■ ^H i"-V>VA ■ ■ "•"vi ■ ■ i ■ V I ,'.'.' , I aass.I)/7 tt }?Ci) Suetonius fell upon Mona, now the Isle of Anglesey, where the howlings, cries, and execrations of the people were so awful, that the name of Mona was singularly appropriate. Notwithstanding, however,, the terrific oaths of the natives, they could not succeed in swearing away the lives of then aggressors. Suetonius, having made them pay the penalty of so much bad language, was called up to London, then a Roman colony ; but he had no sooner arrived in town, than he was obliged to include himself among the departures, in consequence of the fury of Boadicea,, that greatest of viragoes and first of British heroines She reduced London to ashes, which Suetonius did not stay to sift ; but he waited the attack of Boadicea a little way out of town, and pitched his tent within a modern omnibus ride of the great metropolis. His fan* antagonist drove after him in her chariot, with her two daughters, the Misses Boadicea, at her side, and addressed to her army some of those appeals on behalf of " a British female in distress," which havo since been adopted by British dramatists. The valorous old vixen was, however, defeated ; and rather than swallow the bitter pill which would have poisoned the remainder of her days, she took a single dose and terminated her own existence. Suetonius soon returned with his suite to the Continent, without having finished the war ; for it was always a characteristic of the Britons, that they never would acknowledge they had had enough at the hands of an enemy. Some little time afterwards, we find Cerealis engaged in one of those attacks upon Britain which might be called serials, from their frequent repetition ; and subsequently, about the year 75 or 78, Julius Frontinus succeeded to the business from which so many before him had retired with very little profit. The general, however, who cemented the power of Rome — or, to speak figuratively, introduced the Roman cement among the Bricks or Britons — was Julius Agricola, the father-in-law of Tacitus, the historian, who has lost no opportunity of puffing most outrageously his undoubtedly meritorious relative. Agricola certainly did considerable havoc in Britain. He sent th& CHAP. II.] UJLIU8 AGRICOLA HADRIAN SEVERUS Portrait of Julius Agricola. Scotch reeling over the Grampian Hills, and led the Caledonians a pretty dance. He ran up a kind of rampart between the Friths of Clyde and Forth, from which he could come forth at his leisure and complete the conquest of Caledonia. In the sixth year of his campaign, a.d. 83, he crossed the Frith of Forth, and came opposite to Fife, which was played upon by the whole of his band with considerable energy. Having wintered in Fife, upon which he levied contri- butions to a pretty tune, he moved forward in the summer of the next year, a.d. 84, from Glen Devon to the foot of the Grampians. He here encountered Galgacus and his host, who made a gallant resistance; but the Scottish chief was soon left to reckon without his host, for all his followers fled like lightning, and it has been said that their bolting came upon him like a thunderbolt. Agricola having thoroughly beaten the Britons — on the principle, perhaps, that there is nothing so impressible as wax — began to think of instructing them. He had given them a few lessons in war which they were not likely to forget, and he now thought of introducing among their chiefs a tincture of polite letters, commencing of course with the alphabet. The Britons finding it as easy as A, B, C, began to cultivate the rudiments of learning, for there is a spell in letters of which few can resist the influence. They assumed the toga, which, on account of the comfortable warmth of the material, they very quickly cottoned ; they plunged into baths, and threw themselves into the capacious lap of luxury For upwards of thirty years Britain remained tranquil, but in th*7 reign of Hadrian, a.d. 120, the Caledonians, whose spirit had been " scotched, not killed," became exceedingly turbulent. Hadrian, who felt his weakness, went to the wall of Agricola,* which was rebuilt in order to protect the territory the Komans had acquired. Some years afterwards the power of the empire went into a decline, which caused a consumption at home of many of the troops that had been previously kept for the protection of foreign possessions. Britain took this oppor- tunity of revolting, and in the year 207, the Emperor Severus, though far advanced in years and a martyr to the gout, determined to march in person against the barbarians. He had no sooner set his foot on * The remains of this wall are still in. existence, to furnish food for the Archeologians,. who occasionally feast on the hricks, which have hecome venerable with the crust of ages. A morning roll among the mounds in the neighbourhood where this famous wall once existed, is considered a most delicate repast to the antiquarian. 10 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I English ground than his gout caused him to feel the greatest difficulties at every step, and having been no less than four years getting to York, The Emperor Severus leads his Army against the Northern Barbarians. he knocked up there, a.d. 211, and died in a dreadful hobble. Cara- calla, son and successor to the late Emperor Severus, executed a sur- render of land to the Caledonians for the sake of peace, and being desi- rous of administering to the effects of his lamented governor in Rome, left the island for ever. The history of Britain for the next seventy years may be easily written, for a blank page would tell all that is known respecting it. In the partnership reign of Dioclesian and Maximian, a.d. 288, " the land we live in " turns up again, under somewhat unfavourable circum- stances, for we find its coasts being ravaged about this time by Scandi- navian and Saxon pirates. Carausius, a sea captain, and either a Belgian or Briton by birth, was employed against the pirates, to whom, in the Baltic sound, he gave a sound thrashing. Instead, however, of CHAP II 1 BKITAIN A PREY TO NEIGHBOUEING PIBATES. 13 sending the plunder home to his employers, he pocketed the proceed? of his own victories, and the Emperors, growing jealous of his power, sent instructions to have him slain at the earliest convenience. The wily sailor, however, fled to Britain, where he planted his standard, and where the tar, claiming the natives as his " messmates " induced them to join him in the mess he had got into. The Koman eagles were put to flight, and both wings of the imperial army exhibited the white feather. Peace with Carausius was purchased by conceding to him the government of Britain and Boulogne, with the proud title of Emperor. The assumption of the rank of Emperor of Boulogne seems to us about as absurd as usurping the throne of Broadstairs, or putting on the imperial purple at Herne Bay ; but Carausius having been originally a mere pirate, was justly proud of his new dignity. Having swept the seas, he commenced scouring the country, and his victories were cele- brated by a day's chairing, at which he assisted as the principal figure in a procession of unexampled pomp and pageantry. The throne, however, is not an easy fauteidl, and Carausius had scarcely had time to throw himself back in an attitude of repose, when he was murdered at Eboracum (York), (a.d. 297,) by one Alectus, his confidential friend and minister. In accordance with the custom of the period, that the mur- derer should succeed his victim, Alectus ruled in Britain until he, in his turn, was slain at the instigation of Constantius Chlorus, who became master of the island That individual died at York (a.d. 306), where his son Constantine, afterwards called the Great, commenced his reign, which was a short and not a particularly merry one, for after experiencing several reverses in the North, he quitted the island, which, until his death in 337, once more enjoyed tranquillity. Rome, which had so long been mighty, was like a cheese in the same condition, rapidly going to decay, and she found it necessary to practise what has been termed " the noble art of self-defence," which is admitted on all hands to be the first law of Nature. Britain they regarded as a province, which it was not then: province to look after. It was conse- quently left as pickings for the Picts, * nor did it come off scot free from Jhe Scots, who were a tribe of Celtae from Ireland, and who conse- quently must be regarded as a mixed race of Gallo-Hibemian Cale donians. They had, in fact, been Irishmen before they had been Scotchmen, and Frenchmen previous to either. Such were the transla- tions that occurred even at that early period in the greatest drama of all — the drama of history. Britain continued for years suspended like a white hart — a simile justified by its constant trepidation and alarm — with which the Romans and others might enjoy an occasional game at bob-cherry. Maximus (a.d. 382) made a successful bite at it, but turning aside in search of * " The Picts," says Dr. Henry, " were so called from Pictich, a plunderer, and not from picti, painted." History, in assigning the latter origin to their name, has failed tc exhibit them in their true colours. 12 COMIC HISTOltY OF ENGLAND. > BOOK I. the fruits of ambition elsewhere, the Scots and Picts again began nibbling at the Bigaroon that had been the subject of so much snappishness. The Britons being shortly afterwards left once more to themselves- elected Marcus as their sovereign, (a.d. 407); but monarchs in those days, were set up like the king at skittles, only to be knocked down again. Marcus was accordingly bowled out of existence by those who had raised him ; and one, Gratian, having succeeded to the post of royal ninepin, was in four months as dead as the article to which we have chosen to compare him. After a few more similar ups and downs, the Romans, about the year 420, nearly five centuries after Caesar's first invasion, finally cried quits with the Britons by abandoning the island. In pursuing his labours over the few ensuing years, the author would be obliged to grope in the dark ; but history is not a game at blind-man's- buff, and we will never condescend to make it so. It is true, that with the handkerchief of obscurity bandaging our eyes, we might turn round in a state of rigmarole, and catch what we can ; but as it would be mere guesswork by which we could describe the object of which we should happen to lay hold, we will not attempt the experiment. It is unquestionable that Britain was a prey to dissensions at home and ravages from abroad, while every kind of faction — except satis- faction — was rife within the island. Such was the misery of the inhabitants, that they published a pamphlet called " The Groans of the Britons," (a.d. 441), in which they invited iEtius, the Roman consul, to come over and turn out the barbarians, between whom and the sea, the islanders were tossed like a shuttlecock knocked about by a pair of battledores. iEtius, in consequence of previous engagements with Attila and others, was compelled to decline the invitation, and the Britons therefore had a series of routs, which were unattended by the Roman cohorts. The southern part of the island was now torn between a Roman faction under Aurelius Ambrosius, and a British or " country party," at the head of which was Vortigem. The latter is said to have called in the Saxons ; and it is certain that (a.d. 449) he hailed the two brothers, Hengist and Horsa, * who were cruising as Saxon pirates in the British Channel. These individuals being ready for any desperate job, accepted the invitation of Vortigern, to pass some time with him in the Isle of Thanet. They were received as guests by the people of Sandwich, who would as soon have thought of quarreling with their bread and butter as with the friends of the gallant Vortigern. From this date commences the Saxon period of the history of Britain. * Horsa, means a horse ; and the white horse, even now, appears as the ensign of Kent, as it once did on the shield of the Saxons. It is probable that when Horsa came to London, he may have put up somewhere near the present site of the White Horse Cellar. Vide " Palgrave's R ; 6e and Progress of the English Commonwealth." CHAP. III.] THE SAXONS THE HEPTARCHY. 13 CHAPTER THE THIRD. THE SAXONS THE HEPTARCHY. In obedience to custom, the etymologists have been busy with the word Saxon, which they have derived from seax, a sword, and we are left to draw the inference that the Saxons were very sharp blades ; a presumption that is fully sustained by their fierce and warlike character. Their chief weapons were a battleaxe and a hammer, in the use of which they were so adroit that they could always hit the right nail upon the head, when occasion required. Their shipping had been formerly exceedingly crazy, and indeed the crews must have been crazy to have trusted themselves in such fragile vessels. The bottoms of the boats were of very light timber, and the sides consisted of wicker, so that the fleet must have combined the strength of the washing-tub with the •elegant lightness of the clothes' basket. Like their neighbours the wise men of Gotham, or Gotha, who went to sea in a bowl, the Saxons had not scrupled to commit themselves to the mercy of the waves, in these unsubstantial cockle-shells. The boatbuilders, however, soon took rapid strides, and improved their craft by mechanical cunning. Another fog now comes over the historian, but the gas of sagacity is very useful in dispelling the clouds of obscurity. It is said that Hengist gave an evening party to Vortigern, who fell in love with SH, Mcr Rowena and Vortigern. 1 14 COMIC HISTOBY OF ENGLAND [BOOK 1. Rowena, the daughter of his host — a sad flirt, who, throwing herself on her knee, presented the wine-cup to the king, wishing him, in a neat speech, all health and happiness. Vortigern's head was completely turned by the beauty of Miss Rowena Hengist, and the strength of the beverage she had so bewitchingly offered him. A story is also told of a Saxon soiree having been given by Hengist to the Britons, to which the host and his countrymen came, with short swords or knives concealed in their hose, and at a given signal drew their weapons upon their unsuspecting guests. Many historians have doubted this dreadful tale, and it certainly is scarcely credible that the Saxons should have been able to conceal in their stockings the short swords or carving-knives, which must have been very inconvenient to their calves. Stonehenge is the place at which this cruel act of the hard-hearted and stony Hengist is reported to have occurred ; and as antiquarians are always more particular about dates when they are most likely to be wrong, the 1st of May has been fixed upon as the very day on which this horrible reunion was given. It has been alleged, that Vortigern, in order to many Rowena, settled Kent upon Hengist ; but if is much more probable that Hengist settled himself upon Kent with- out the intervention of any formality. It is certain that he became King of the County, to which he affixed Middlesex, Essex, and a part of Surrey ; so that, as sovereigns went in those early days, he could scarcely be called a petty potentate. The success of Hengist induced several of his countrymen, after his death, to attempt to walk in Iris shoes ; but it has been well and wisely said, that in following the foot- steps of a great man an equally capacious understanding is requisite. The Saxons who tried this experiment were divided into Saxons proper, Angles, and Jutes, who all passed under the common appellation of Angles and Saxons. The word Angles was peculiarly appropriate to a people so naturally sharp, and the whole science of mathematics can give us no angles so acute as those who figured in the early pages of our history. In the year 447, Ella the Saxon landed in Sussex with his three sons, and drove the Britons into a forest one hundred and twenty miles long and thirty broad, according to the old writers, but in our opinion just about as broad as it was long, for otherwise there could have been no room for it in the place where the old writers have planted it Ella, however, succeeded in clutching a very respectable slice, which was called the kingdom of South Saxony, which included Surrey, Sussex, and the New Forest ; while another invading firm, under the title of Cerdic and (Son, started a small vanquishing business in the West, and by conquering Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, founded the kingdom of Wessex. Cerdic was considerably harassed by King Arthur of fabulous fame, whose valour is reported to have been such that he fought twelve battles with the Saxons, and was three times married. His first and third wives were carried away from him, but on the principle that no news is good news, the historians tell us that as CHAP. III.] THE SAXONS THE HEPTARCHY. 15 there are no records of his second consort, his alliance with her may perhaps have been a happy one The third and last of his spouses ran off with his nephew Mordred, and the enraged monarch having met his ungrateful kinsman in battle, they engaged each other with such fury, that, like the Kilkenny cats, they slew one another. About the year 527, Ereenwine landed on the Essex flats, which he had no trouble in reducing, for he found them already on a very low level. In 547, Ida, with a host of Angles, began fishing for dominion off Flamborough Head, where he effected a landing. He however settled on a small wild space between the Tyne and the Tees, a tiny possession, in which he was much teased by the beasts of the forest, for the place having been abandoned, Nature had established a Ida quitting his Kingdom. Zoological Society of her own in this locality. The kingdom thus formed was called Bernicia, and as the place was full of wild animals, it is not improbable that the British Lion may have originally come Srorn the place alluded to. Ella, another Saxon prince, defeated Lancashire and York, taking the name of King of the Deiri, and causing the inhabitants to lick the dust, which was the only way they could find of repaying the licking COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK I. they had received from their conqueror. Ethelred, the grandson of Ida, having married the daughter of Ella, began to cement the union in the old-established way, by robbing his wife's relations of all their property. He seized on the kingdom of his brother-in-law, and added it to his own, uniting the petty monarchies of Deiri and Bernicia into the single sovereignty of Northumberland. Such were the several kingdoms which formed the Heptarchy Arithmeticians will probably tell us that seven into one will never go ; but into one the seven did eventually go by a process that will be shown in the ensuing chapter. CHAPTER THE FOURTH. THE UNION OF THE HEPTARCHY UNDER EGBERT. f it be a sound philosophical truth, that two of a trade can never agree, we may take it for granted that, a fortiori, seven in the same business will be perpetually quarreling. Such was speedily the case with the Saxon princes : and it is not improbable that the disturbed condition, familiarly known as a state of sixes and sevens, may have derived its title from the turmoils of the seven Saxon sovereigns, dur- ing the existence of the Hep- tarchy. Nothing can exceed the entanglement into which the thread of history was thrown by the battles and skirmishes of these princes. The endea- vour to lay hold of the thread would be as troublesome as the process of looking for a needle,* not merely in a bottle of hay, but in the very bosom of a haystack. Let us, however, apply the magnet of industry, and test the alleged fidelity of the needle to the pole by attempting to implant in the head of the reader a few of the points that seem best adapted for striking him. * " A needle in a bottle ol; hay," is an old English phrase, of which we cannot trace the origin. Bottled hay must have been sad dry stuff, but it is possible the wisdom of "our ancestors may hare induced them to bottle their grass as we in the present day bottle our gooseberries. \ CHAP. IV.] UNION OF THE HEPTARCHY UNDEK EGBERT. u We will take a run through the whole country as it was then divided, and will borrow from the storehouse of tradition the celebrated pair of seven-leagued boots, for the purpose of a scamper through the seven kingdoms of the Heptarchy. We will first drop in upon Kent, whose founder, Hengist, Bad no worthy successor till the time of Ethelbert. This individual acted on the principle of give and take, for he was always taking what he could, and giving battle. He seated himself by force on the throne of Mercia, into which he carried his arms, as if the throne of Kent had not afforded him sufficient elbow-room. This, however, he resigned to Webba, the rightful heir : but poor Webba (query Webber) was kept like a fly in a spider's web, as a tributary prince to the artful Ethelbert. This monarch's reign derived, however, its real glory from the introduction of Chris- tianity and the destruction of many Saxon superstitions. He kept up a friendly correspondence with Gregory, the punster Pope, and author of the celebrated jeu de mot on the word Angli, in the Roman market- place.* Non Angli sed Angeli forent si fuissent Christiani.' * The pun in question is almost too venerable for repetition, but we insert it in a note, as no History of England seems to be complete without it. The Pope, on seeing the British children exposed for sale in the market-place at Rome, said they would not be Angles but Angels if they had been Christians. Non Angli sed Angeli forent si fuissent Chiistiani. 18 COM rC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK I. Ethelbert died in 616, having been not only king of Kent, but having filled the office of Bretwalda, a name given to the most influential — or, as we should call him, the president or chairman — of the sovereigns of the Heptarchy. His son, Eadbald, who succeeded, failed in supporting the fame of his father It would be useless to pursue the catalogue of Saxons who continued mounting and dismounting the throne of Kent — one being no sooner down than another came on — in rapid succession. It was Egbert, King of Wessex, who, in the year 723, had the art to seat himself on all the seven thrones at once , an achievement which, considering the ordinary fate of one who attempts to preserve his balance upon two stools, has fairly earned the admiration of posterity. Let us now take a skip into Northumberland — formed by Ethelred in the manner we have already alluded to, out of the two kingdoms of Deiri and Bernicia — which, though not enough for two, constituted for one a very respectable sovereignty. The crown of Northumberland seems to have been at the disposal of any one who thought it worth his while to go and take it ; provided he was prepared to meet any little objections of the owner by making away with him. In this manner, Osred received his quietus from Kerned, a kinsman, who was killed in his turn by another of the family ; and, after a long series of assassina tions, the people quietly submitted to the yoke of Egbert. The kingdom of East Anglia presents the same rapid panorama of murders which settled the succession to all the Saxon thrones ; and Mercia, comprising the midland comities, furnishes all the materials for a melodrama. Offa, one of its most celebrated kings, had a daughter, Elfrida, to whom Ethelbert, the sovereign of the East Angles, had made honourable proposals, and had been invited to celebrate his nuptials at Hereford. . In the midst of the festivities Offa asked Ethel bert into a back room, in which the latter had scarcely taken a chair when his head was unceremoniously removed from his shoulders by the father of his intended Offa having extinguished the royal family of East Anglia, by snuffing out the chief, took possession of the kingdom. In order to expiate his crime he made friends with the Pope, and exacted a penny from every house' possessed of thirty pence, or half-a-crown a year, which he sent as a proof of penitence to the Rom^ pontiff Though at first intended by Offa as an offering, it was afterwards claimed as a tribute, under the name of Peter's Pence, which were exacted from the people ; and the custom may perhaps have originated the dishonourable practice of robbing Paul for the purpose of paying Peter After the usual amount of slaughter, one Wiglaff mounted the throne, which was in a fearfully ricketty condition. So unstable was this unde sirable piece of Saxon upholstery that Wiglaff had no sooner sat down upon it than it gave way with a tremendous crash, and fell into the hands of Egbert, who was always ready to seize the remaining stock of royalty that happened to be left to an unfortunate sovereign on the eve of an alarming sacrifice CHAP. IV.] DEATH OF BEOBTTUC. 19 The kingdom of Essex can boast of little worthy of narration, and in looking through the venerable Bede, we find a string of names that are wholly devoid of interest. The history of Sussex is still more obscure, and we hasten to Wessex, where we find Brihtric, or Beortric, sitting in the regal arm-chair that Egbert had a better right to occupy. The latter fled to the court of Offa, king of Mercia, to whom the former sent a message, requesting that Egbert's head might be brought back by return, with one of Offa's daughters, whom Beortric proposed to marry. The young lady was sent as per invoice, for she was rather a burden on the Mercian court ; but Egbert's head, being still in use, was not duly forwarded. Feeling that his life was a toss up, and that he might lose by heads coming down, Egbert wisely repaired to the court of the Emperor Charlemagne. There he acquired many accomplishments, took lessons in fencing, and received that celebrated French polish of which it may be fairly said in the language of criticism, that " it ought to be found on every gentleman's table." Mrs. Beortric managed to poison her husband by a draft not intended for his acceptance, and presented by mistake, which caused a vacancy in the throne of Wessex. Egbert having embraced the opportunity, was embraced by the people, who received him with open arms, on his arrival from France, and hailed him as rightful heir to the Wessexian crown, which he had never been able to get out of his head, or on to his head, until the present favourable juncture. In a few years he got into hostilities with the Mercians, who being, as we are told by the chroniclers, Battle between the Mercians and Egbert.— CoMon MS. « "fat, corpulent, and short-winded," soon got the worst of it. The lean and active troops of Egbert prevailed over the opposing cohorts, who were at once podgy and powerless. As they advanced to the charge, they were met by the blows of the enemy, and as " it is an ill wind that c2 20 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND, [bookl blows nobody good, " so the very ill wind of the Mercians made good for the soldiers of Egbert, who were completely victorious. Mercia was now subjugated ; Kent and Essex were soon subdued ; the East Angles claimed protection ; Northumberland submitted ; Sussex had for some time been swamped; and Wessex belonged to Egbert by right of succession. Thus, about four hundred years after the arrival of the Saxons, the Heptarchy was dissolved, in the year 827, after having been in hot water for centuries It was only when tho spirit of Egbert was thrown in, that the hot water became a strong and wholesome compound. CHAPTER THE FIFTH, THE DANES ALFEED. cabcely had unanimity begun to prevail in England, when the country was invaded by the Danes, whose desperate valour there was no disdaining. Some of them, in the year 832, landed on the coast, committed a series of ravages, and escaped to their ships without being taken into custody. Egbert encountered them on one occasion at Charmouth, in Dorsetshire, but having lost two bishops — who, by the bye, had no business in a fight — he was glad to make the best of his way home again. The Danes, or Northmen, having visited Cornwall, entered into an alliance with some of the Briks, or Britons, of the neigh- bourhood, and marched into Devon- shire; but Egbert, collecting the cream of the Devonshire youth, poured it down upon the heads of his enemies. According to with considerable resistance, and it has even been said that the Devonshire cream experienced a severe clouting. It is certainly sufficient to -make the milk of human kindness curdle in the veins when we read the various recitals of Danish ferocity. Egbert, however, was successful at the battle of Ilengsdown Hill, where many were put to the sword, by the sword An Illuminated Letter. some historians, Egbert met CEAP. V.] THE DANES — ALFKED. 21 being put to them, in the most unscrupulous manner. This was the last grand military drama in which Egbert represented the hero. He died in 836, after a long reign, which had been one continued shower of prosperity. Ethelwolf, the eldest son of Egbert, now came to the throne, but mis- understanding the maxim, Divide et impera, he began to divide his kingdom, as the best means of ruling it, and gave a slice consisting of Kent and its dependencies to his son Athelstane. The Scandinavian pirates having no longer an opponent like Egbert, ravaged Wessex; sailed up the Thames, which, if they could, they would have set on fire; gave Canterbury, Kochester, and London a severe dose, in the shape of pillage ; and got into the heart of Surrey, which lost all heart on the approach of the enemy. Ethelwolf, how- ever, taking with him his second son Ethelbald, met them at Okely — probably in the neighbourhood of Oakley Street — and at a place still retaining the name of the New Cut, made a fearful incision into the ranks of the enemy. The Danes retired to settle in the isle of Thanet, to repose after the settling they had received in Surrey, at the hands ot the Saxons. Notwithstanding the state of his kingdom, Ethelwolf found time for an Italian tour, and taking with him his fourth son, Alfred the Great — then Alfred tho Little, for he was a child of six — started to Home, on that very vague pretext, a pilgrimage. He spent a large sum of money abroad, gave the pope an annuity for himself, and another to trim the lamps of St. Peter and St. Paul, which has given rise to the celebrated jeu de mot that, " instead of roaming about and getting rid of his cash in trimming foreign lamps, he ought to have remained at home for the purpose of trimming his enemies." On his return through France, he fell in love with Judith, the daughter of Charles the Bald, the king of the Franks, who probably gave a good fortune to the bride, for Charles being known as the bald, must of course have been without any heir apparent. When Ethelwolf arrived at home with his new wife, he found his three sons, or as he had been in the habit of calling them, " the boys," — indignant at the marriage of their governor. According to some historians and chroniclers, Osburgha, his first wife, was not dead, but had been simply " put away " to make room for Judith. It certainly was a practice of the kings in the middle age, and particularly if they happened to be middle-aged kings, to "put away" an old wife; but the real difficulty must have been where on earth to put her. If Osburgha consented quietly to be laid upon the shelf, she must have differed from her sex in general. Athelstane being dead, Ethelbald was now the king's eldest son, and had made every arrangement for a fight with his own father for the throne, when the old gentleman thought it better to divide his crown than ran the risk of getting it cracked in battle. "Let us not split each others heads, my son," he affectingly exclaimed, " but rather let us split the difference." Ethelbald immediately cried halves when he 2.^ . COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. found his father disposed to cry quarter, and after a short debate they came to a division. The undutiful son got for himself the richest portion of the kingdom of Wessex, leaving his unfortunate sire to sigh over the eastern part, which was the poorest moiety of the royal property. The ousted Ethelwolf did not survive more than two years the change which had made him little better than half-a-sovereign, for he died in 857, and was succeeded by his son Ethelbald. This person was, to use an old simile, as full of mischief "as an egg is full of meat," and indeed somewhat fuller, for we never yet found a piece of beef, mutton, or veal, in the whole course of our oval experience. Ethelbald, however, reigned only two years, having first married and subsequently divorced his father's widow Judith, whose venerable parent Charles the Bald, was happily indebted to his baldness for being spared the misery of having his grey hairs brought down in sorrow to the grave by the misfortunes of his daughter. This young lady, for she was still young in spite of her two marriages, her widowhood, and divorce, had retired to a convent near Paris, when a gentleman of the name of Baldwin, belonging to an old standard family, ran away with her. He was threatened with excommunication by the young lady's father, but treating the menaces of Charles the Bald as so much balderdash, Mr. Baldwin sent a herald to the pope, who allowed the marriage to be legally solemnised. We have given a few lines to Judith because, by her last marriage, she gave a most illustrious line to us ; for her son having married the youngest daughter of Alfred the Great, was the ancestor of Maud, the wife of William the Conqueror. Ethelbald was succeeded by Ethelbert, whose reign, though it lasted only five years, may be compared to a rain of cats and dogs, for he was constantly engaged in quarrelling. The Danes completely sacked and ransacked Winchester, causing Ethelbert to exclaim, with a melancholy smile, to one of his courtiers, " This is indeed the bitterest cup of sack I ever tasted." He died in 866 or 867, and was succeeded by his brother Ethelred, who found matters arrived at such a pitch, that he fought nine pitched battles with the Danes in less than a twelvemonth. He died in the year 871, of severe wounds, and the crown fell from his head on to that of his younger brother Alfred. The regal diadem was sadly tarnished when it came to the young king, who resolved that it should not long continue to lack lacker ; and by his glorious deeds he soon restored the polish that had been rubbed off by repeated leathering. He had scarcely time to sit down upon the throne when he was called into the field to fulfil a very particular engagement with the Danes at Wilton. They were compelled to stipulate for a safe retreat, and went up to London for the winter, where they so harassed Burrhed the king of Mercia, in whose dominions London was situated, that the poor fellow ran down the steps of his throne, left his sceptre in the regal hall, and, repairing to Rome, finished his days in a cloister. The Danes still continued the awful business of dyemg and scouring, CHAP. V.J GUTHIIUM THE DANE. 23 /or they scoured the country round, and dyed it with the blood of the inhabitants. Alfred, finding himself in the most terrible straits, conceived the idea of getting out of the straits by means of ships, of which he collected a few, and for a time he went on swimmingly. He taught Britannia her first lesson in ruling the waves, by destroying the fleet of Guthrum the Dane, who had promised to make his exit from the kingdom on a previous defeat, but by a disgraceful quibble he had, instead of making his exit, retired to Exeter From this place he now retreated, and took up his quarters at Gloucester, while Alfred, it being now about Christmas time, had repaired to spend the holidays at Chippenham. It was on Twelfth-night, which the Saxons were cele- brating no doubt with cake and wine, when a loud knocking was heard Guthrum pays an Evening Visit to Alfred. at the gate, and on some one going to answer the door, Guthrum and his Danes rushed in with overwhelming celerity Alfred, who had 24 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. been probably favouring the company with a song — for he was fond of minstrelsy — made an involuntary shake on hearing the news, and ran off, followed by a small band, in an allegro movement, which almost amounted to a galop. The Saxon monarch finding himself deserted by his coward subjects, and without an army, broke up his establishment, dismissed every one of his servants, and, exchanging his regal trappings for a bag of old clothes, went about the country in various disguises. He had taken refuge as a peasant in the hut of a swineherd or pig-driver, whose wife had put some cakes on the fire to toast, and had requested Alfred to turn them while she was otherwise employed in trying to turn a penny His Majesty being bent upon his bow, never thought of the cakes, which were burnt up to a cinder, and the old woman, looking as black as the cakes themselves, taunted the king with the smallness of the care he took, and the largeness of his appetite. " You can eat them fast enough," she exclaimed, " and I think you might have given the cakes a turn."* "I acknowledge my fault," replied Alfred, "for you and your husband have done me a good turn, and one good turn, I am well aware, deserves another." The monarch retired to a swamp, which he called CEthelingay — now Athelney — or the Isle of Nobles, and some of his retainers, who stuck to their sovereign through thick and thin, joined him in the morasses and marshes he had selected for his residence. Alfred did not despair, though in the middle of a swamp he had no good ground for hope, until he heard that Hubba, the Dane, after making a hubbub in Wales, had been killed by a sudden sally in an alley near the mouth of the Tau, in Devonshire. Alfred, on this intelligence, left his retreat, and having recourse to Iris old clothes bag, disguised himself as the " Wandering Minstrel," in which character he made a very successful appearance at the camp of Guthrum. The jokes of Alfred, though they would sound very old Joe Millerisms in the present day, were quite new at that remote period, and the Danes were constantly in fits ; so that the Saxon long was preparing : by splitting their sides, to eventually break up the ranks of his enemy. He could also sing a capital song, which with his comic recitations, conundrums, and charades, rendered him a general favourite ; and his vocal powers may be said to have been instrumental to the accomplishment of his object. Having returned to his friends, he led them forth against Guthrum, who retreated to a fortified position with a handful of men, and Alfred, by a close blockade, took care not to let the handful of men slip through his fingers. Guthrum, tired of the raps on the knuckles he had received, threw * Though all the historians have given this anecdote, they vary in the words attributed to the old woman, and make no allusion to the reply of Alfred. So accomplished a, monarch would hardly have found nothing at. all to say for himself; and though he did not turn the cakes, he most probably turned the conversation in the manner we have described. CHAP. V.] THE DANES RAVAGE FRANCE. 25 himself on the kind indulgence of a British public, and appeared before the Saxon king in the character of an apologist. Alfred's motto was " Forget and Forgive ;" but he wisely insisted on the Danes embracing Christianity, knowing that if their conversion should be sincere, they would never be guilty of any further atrocities. He stood godfather himself to Guthram, who adopted the old family name of Athelstane, and all animosities were forgotten in the festivities of a general christening. A partition of the kingdom took place, and Alfred gave a good share, including all the east side of the island, to his new godson. The Danes settled tranquilly in their new possessions, though in the very next year, (879), a small party sailed up the Thames and landed on the shores of Fulham ; but finding the hardy sons of that suburban coast in a posture of defence, the northmen took to their heels, or rather to their keels, by returning to their vessels. The would-be invaders repaired to Ghent to try their luck in the Low Countries, for which their ungentlemanly conduct in violating their treaties most peculiarly fitted them. Alfred employed the period of peace in building and in law, both of which are generally ruinous, but which were exceedingly profitable in his judicious hands. He restored London, over which he placed his son-in-law, Ethelred, as Earl Eolderman or Alderman, and he esta- blished a regular militia all over the country, who if they resembled the militia of modern times, must have kept away the invaders by placing them in the position familiarly known as " more frightened than hurt." In the year 893, however, the Danes under Hasting, having ravaged all France, and eaten up every morsel of food they could find in that country, were compelled to come over to England in search of a meal. A portion of the invaders in two hundred and fifty ships, landed near Romney Marsh, at a river called Limine, and there being no one to oppose them in Limine, they proceeded to Appledore. Hasting, with eighty sail, took Milton ; but he was soon routed out, and cutting across the Thames, he removed to Banfleet, which was only "over the way ;" where he was broken in upon by Aldermen Ethelred at the head of some London citizens. The cockney cohorts seized the wife and two sons of Hasting, who would have been killed but for the magnanimity of Alfred, though it has been hinted that in sending them back to his foe, the Saxon king calculated that as women and children are only in the way when business is going forward, their presence might add to the embarrassments of the Danish chieftain. That sucli was really the case, may be gleaned from the fact that on a subsequent occasion Hasting and his followers were compelled to leave their wives and families behind them in the river Lea, into which the Danish fleet had sailed when Alfred ingeniously drew all the water off, and left the enemy literally aground. This manoeuvre was accomplished partially by digging three channels from the Lea to the Thames, and partially by the removal of the water in buckets, though the bucket got very frequently kicked by those engaged in this perilous enterprise. 26 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 1 The river Lea would have been sufficiently deep for the purposes of Hasting had not Alfred been deeper still, and the fleet, which had been the floating capital of the Danes, became a deposit in the banks for the benefit of the Saxons. In the spring of 897 Hasting quitted England ; but several pirates remained ; and two ships being taken at the Isle of Wight, Alfred, on being asked what should be done with the crews, exclaimed, " Oh ! they may go and be hanged at Win- chester ! " The lung's orders having been taken literally, the marauders were carried to Winchester, and hanged accordingly. Alfred, having tranquillised the country, died in the year 901, after a glorious reign of nearly thirty years, and is known to this day as Alfred the Great, an epithet which has never yet been earned by one of his successors The character of this prince seems to have been as near perfection as possible. His reputation as a sage has not been injured by time, nor has the mist of ages obscured the brightness of his military glory. He was a lover of literature, and a constant reader of every magazine oi knowledge that he could lay his hands upon. An anecdote is told of his mother, Osburgha, having bought a book of Saxon poetry, illustrated according to the taste of our own times, with numerous drawings Alfred and his brothers were all exclaiming, " Oh give it me!" with infantine eagerness, when his parent, hit on the expedient of promising that he who could read it first should receive it as a present. Alfred, proceeding on the modern principle of acquiring " Spanish without a Master," and " French comparatively in no time," succeeded in picking up Anglo-Saxon in six self-taught lessons. He accordingly won the book, which was, no doubt, of a nature well calculated to "repay perusal." Nor were war and literature the only pursuits in which Alfred indulged ; but he added the mechanical arts to his other accomplish- ments. The sun-dial was probably known to Alfred ; but that acute prince soon saw, or, rather, found from not seeing, that a sun-dial in the dark was worse than useless. Not content with being always alive to the time of day, he became desirous of knowing the time of night, and used to burn candles of a certain length with notches in them to mark the hours.* These were indeed melting moments, but the wind often blew the candles out, or caused them to burn irregularly Some- times they would get very long wicks, and, if every one had gone to bed, no one being up to snuff, might render the long wicks rather dangerous In this dilemma he asked himself what could be done, and his friend Asser, the monk, having said half sportively, "Ah! you are on the horns of a dilemma," Alfred enthusiastically replied, "I have it; * The practice of telling the time by burning candles was ingenious, but could not have been always convenient. It must have been very awkward when a thief got into one of the candles, thus exposing time to another thief besides procrastination. After Alfred's invention ot the lanthorn, it might have been worn as a watch, in the same manner as the modern policeman wears the bull's-eje. CHAP. V.] DEATH OV ALFRED. 27 yes ; I will turn the homs to my own advantage, and make a horn lanthom." Thus, to make use of a figure of a recent writer, Alfred never found himself in a difficulty without, somehow or other, making light of it. He founded the navy, and, besides being the architect of his own fortunes, he studied architecture for the benefit of his subjects, for he caused so many houses to be erected, that during his reign the country seemed to be let out on one long building lease. He revised the laws, and his system of police was so good, that it has been said any one might have hung out jewels on the highway without any fear of their being stolen. Much, however, depends on the kind of jewellery then in use, for some future historian may say of the present generation, that such was its honesty, precious stones, — that is to say, precious large stones, — might be left in the streets without any one offering to take them up and walk away with them. Alfred gave encouragement not only to native, but to foreign talent, and sent out Swithelm, bishop of Sherburn, to India, by what is now called the overland journey, and the good bishop was therefore the original Indian male — or Saxon Waghorn. He brought from India several gems, and a quantity of pepper — the gems being generously given by Alfred to his friends, and the pepper freely bestowed on his enemies. He died on the 26th of October, 901, in the fifty-third year of his age, and thirtieth of his reign, having fought in person fifty-six times; so that his life must have been one continued round of sparring with one or other of his enemies. All the chroniclers and historians have agreed in pro- nouncing unqualified praise upon Alfred ; and unless puffing had reached a perfection, and acquired an effrontery which it has scarcely shown in the present day, he must be considered a paragon of perfection who never yet had a parallel. It is certain we have had but one Alfred, from the Saxon period to the present ; but we have now a prospect of another, who, let us hope, may evince, at some future time, something more than a merely nominal resemblance to him who has been the subject of this somewhat lengthy chapter. COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK L CHAPTER THE SIXTH. FROM KING EDWARD THE ELDER TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. the death of Alfred, his second son, Edward, took possession of the throne, when he was served with a notice of ejectment by his cousin Ethel wald. Preparations were made for commencing and defending an action at Wimburn, when Ethel- wald, intimidated by the strength of his opponent, declined to go on with the proceedings, and judgment, as in case of a nonsuit, was claimed on Edward's behalf. Subsequently, however, Ethelwald moved, appa- rently with a view to a new trial, towards Bury, where some of the Kentish men had ventured; and an action having come off, he incurred very heavy damage, which ended in his paying the costs of the day with his own existence. Edward derived much aid from Ethelfleda, a sister, who acted as a sister, by assisting him in his wars against his enemies. This energetic specimen of the British female inherited all the spirit of her father, as well as his mantle, which we find in looking into our own Mackintosh.* She is called " The Lady of Mercia " by the old chroniclers ; but as she was always foremost hi a fight, there seems something slyly satirical in giving the name of lady to a person of the most fearfully unladylike propensities. She beat the Welsh unmercifully, filling their country with wailings a* well as covering then: backs with wails, and she took prisoner the king's wife, with whom it may be presumed she came furiously to the scratch before the capture was accomplished. Ethelfleda died in the year 920, and her brother in 925, the latter being succeeded by his natural son, Athelstane, who had no sooner got the crown on his head, than he found several persons preparing to have a snatch at it. He, however, defeated all his enemies, and devoted his time to polishing his throne, adding lustre to his crown, and giving brightness to his sceptre. It was in this reign that England first became an asylum for foreign refugees, to whom Athelstane always extended his hospitality. Louis d'Outremer, the French King, and several Celtic princes of Armorica or Brittany, Sir James Mackintosh's " History of England," Vol. I. Chap, ii., p. 49. CHAP. VI.] DEATH OF ATHELSTANE. i played at hide-and-seek in London lodgings, -while keepiog out of the way of their rebellious subjects. It is probable that the part of the metropolis called Little Britain, may have derived its name from the princes having established a little Brittany of their own in that locality. Athelstane appears also to have taken a limited number of pupils into his own palace to board and educate, for Harold, the King of Norway, consigned his son Haco to the care and tuition of the Saxon monarch. Athelstane died in the year 940, in his forty-seventh year, and was succeeded by Edmund the Atheling, a youth of eighteen, whose taste for elegance and splendour obtained for him the name of the Magnificent. He gave very large dinner parties to his nobles, and at one of these his eye fell upon one Leof, a notorious robber, returned from banishment, one of the Saxon swell mob who had been transported, but had escaped ; and who, from some remissness on the part of the police, had obtained admission to the palace. Edmund commanded the proper officer to turn him out, but Leof — tempted no doubt by the sideboard of plate — insisted on remaining at the banquet Edmund, Edmund and Leof. »ho, as the chroniclers tell us, was heated by wine, jumped up from ois seat, and forgetting the king in the constable, seized Leof by hia 80 COMIC HTSTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. collar and his hair, intending to turn him out neck and crop. Leof still refusing to " move on," the impetuous Edmund commenced wrestling with the intruder, who, irritated at a sudden and severe kick on his shins, drew a dagger from under his cloak, and stabbed the sovereign in a vital part. The nobles, who had formed a circle round the combatants, and had been encouraging # their king with shouts of " Bravo, Edmund ! " " Give it him, your majesty ! " were so infuriated at the foul play of the thief, and his un-English recourse to the knife, that they fell upon him at once, and cut him literally to pieces. Edred, the brother and successor of Edmund, though not twenty- three years of age, was in a wretched state of health when he came to the throne. He had lost his teeth, and of course had none to show when threatened by his enemies ; and he was so weak in the feet, that he literally seemed to be without a leg to stand upon. Nevertheless he succeeded in vanquishing the Danes, who could not hurt a hair of his head ; but, as the chroniclers tell us that every bit of his hair had fallen off, his security in this respect is easily accounted for. The vigour that marked his reign has, however, been attributed to Dunstan, the abbot, who now began to figure as a political character. Edred soon died, and left the kingdom to his little brother Edwy, a lad of fifteen, who soon married Elgiva, a young lady of good family, and took his wife's mother home to live with them. On the day of his coronation he had given a party, and the gentlemen, including Odo, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Dunstan, the monk, were still sitting over their wine, when Edwy slipped out to join the ladies. Odo and Dunstan, who were both six-bottle men, became angry at the absence of their royal host, and the latter, at the suggestion of the former, went staggering after the king to lug him back to the banquet-room. Edwy was quietly seated with his wife and her mother in the boudoir — for it being a gentlemen's party, no ladies seem to have been among the guests — and the monk, hiccuping out some gross abuse of the queen and her mamma, collared the young king, who was dragged back to the wine-table. Though this outrage may have been half festive, interlarded with exclamations of " Come along, old boy," " Don't leave us, old chap," and other similar phrases of social familiarity, Edwy never forgave the monk, whom he called upon to account for money received in his late capacity of treasurer to the royal household. Dunstan being what is usually termed a "jolly dog," and a "social companion," was of course most irregular in money matters ; and finding it quite impossible to make out his books, he ran away to avoid the inconvenience of a regular settlement. Dunstan, nevertheless, resolved to pay his royal master off on the first opportunity ; and a rising having been instigated by his friend and pot-companion, Archbishop Odo, Edgar, the brother of Edwy, was declared independent sovereign of the whole of the island north of the Thames. Dunstan returned from his brief exile ; but, in the mean time, CHAP. VI. J EDGAR SUCCEEDS TO THE THRONE. 31 Edwy had been deprived of his wife, Elgiva, by forcible abduction, at the instigation of the odious Odo. The lovely unfortunate had her face branded with a hot iron, and the most cruel means were taken to deprive her of the beauty which was supposed to be the cause of her ascendancy over the heart of her royal husband. Some historians have attributed this outrage to the designs of Dunstan, and among the many irons that monk was known to have had in the fire, may have been the veiy irons with which this horrible barbarity was perpetrated. Her scars were, how- ever, obliterated by some Kalydor known at the time, and probably the invention of some knightly Sir Rowland of thatearly era. She was on the point ofrejoiningEdwy at Gloucester, when she was savagely murdered by the enemies of her husband, who did not long survive her, for in the following year, 958, he perished either by assassination or a broken heart. Edgar, a mere lad, of whom Dunstan had made a ladder for his own ambition, now succeeded to his brother's dignities, if a series of nothing but indignities can deserve to be so called. The wily monk had now become Archbishop of Canterbury, and encouraged the new king to make royal progresses among his subjects, in the course of which he is said to have gone upon the river Dee, in an eight-oared cutter, rowed by eight crowned sovereigns. In this illustrious water party Kenneth, King of Scotland, pulled the stroke oar, then* Majesties of Cumbria, Anglesey, Galloway, Westmere, and the three Welsh sovereigns, making up the remainder of the royal crew, over which Edgar himself presided as coxswain. Though the young King gave great satisfaction in his public capacity, his private character was exceedingly reprehensible. His inconstancy towards the fair got him into sad disgrace, and his friend Dunstan on one occasion administered to him a severe reprimand. The monk, how- ever, finished by fining him a crown, prohibiting him from putting on, during a period of seven years, that veiy uncomfortable article of the regalia. As the head is proverbially uneasy which wears a crown, the sentence passed upon the King must have been a boon rather than a punishment. Among the events connected with the reign of Edgar, his marriage with Elfrida must always stand conspicuous. He had heard much of a provincial beauty, the daughter of Olgar, or Ordgar, Earl of Devonshire, and the King sent his favourite, the Earl of Athelwold, to see this rustic belle, with the view of ascertaining whether the flower would be worth transplanting to the palace of the sovereign. Athelwold. on seeing the young lady, fell in love with her himself, from her extreme beauty ; but wrote up to Edgar, declaring that she might well be caller! " the mistress of the village plain, " for her plainness was absolutely pain ful; and indeed he added in a P.S., " She is so disfigured by a squint, a:- to give me the idea of the very scmintessence of ugliness." Athelwold attributed her reputation for beauty to her fortune, and declared thai her money turned her red hair into golden locks, causing her to be wel •' worthy the attention of Persons about to Marry " 82 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. Edgar soon gave his consent to Athelwold's espousing the lady, on the ground of her being a good match for him ; but she proved more than a match for him a short time afterwards. Edgar, at the expiration of the honeymoon, proposed to visit his friend, who made excuses as long as he could, insinuating that he was seldom at home, and that he could not exactly say when His Majesty would be sure of catching him. The king, however, good-naturedly promising to be satisfied with pot-luck, fixed a day for his visit ; and Athelwold confessing all to his wife, begged her to disguise her charms, by putting on her shabbiest gown, and to behave herself in such a manner as to make the king believe he had lost nothing in not having married her. " I should like to see myself appearing as a dowdy before my sovereign," was the lady's feminine reply, and she paid more than usual attention to her toilette in order to attract the favourable notice of Edgar. The monarch finding himself deceived by Athelwold, asked him to come and hunt hi a wood, when, without any preliminary beating about the bush, and exclaiming: " You made game of mc, thus do I make game of you," he stabbed the unfortunate earl, and returned home to marry his widow. Edgar did not live many years after this ungentlemanly conduct, but died at the early age of two-and-thirty. Though he had been favourable to priestcraft, and patronised the cimning foxes of the Church, he was an enemy to wolves, and offered so much per head for all that were killed, imtil the race was exterminated, and the cry of " Wolf" became synonymous with a false alarm of clanger. Edgar was succeeded (a.d. 975) by Edward, his son by his first wife, who was not more than fourteen or fifteen years old ; and thus, at that age before which an individual in the present day is not legally qualified to drive a cab, this royal hobbledehoy assumed the reins of government. His mother-in-law, Elfrida, endeavoured to grasp them for her own son Ethelred, an infant of six, but Dunstan having at that moment the whip hand, prevented her from reaching the point she was driving at. Edward, who acquired the name of the Martyr, was accordingly crowned at Kingston, where coronations formerly came off; but he did not long survive, for hunting one day near Corfe Castle, he made a morning call on his mother-in-law, Elfrida, and requested that a drop of something to drink might be brought to him. As Elfrida was offering him the ale in front, her porter dropped upon him in the back, and inflicted a stab which caused him to set spurs to his horse ; but falling off from loss of blood, he was drawn — a lifeless bier — for a considerable distance Elfrida has been acquitted by some of having been the instigator of this cruel act, but as it is said she whipped her little son Ethelred for crying at the news of the death of his half-brother Edward, we can scarcely admit that there is any doubt of which we can give her the benefit. Both mother and son became so exceedingly unpopular that an attempt was made to set up a rival on the throne, to the exclusion of Ethelred, and the crown was offered to the late king's natural daughter, whose name was Edgitha. CHAP. VI.] ACCESSION OF ETHELRED TO THE THRONE. 33 Edgitha, however, having observed that the regal diadem was looked upon as a target, at which any one might take the liberty to aim, preferred the comfortable hood of the nun — for she was the inmate of a monastery — to the jewelled cap of royalty. The crown was accordingly placed by Dunstan, at Easter, a.d. 979, on the weak head of Ethelred ; and it is said that the monk was in such a fit of ill-temper at the coronation, that he muttered some frightful maledictions against the boy-king, while in the very act of crowning him. The youthful sovereign was also indebted to Dunstan for the nickname of the Unready, which was probably equi- valent to the term " slow coach," that is sometimes used to denote a person of sluggish disposition and not very brilliant mental faculties. Coronation of Ethelred the Unready. Ethelred was wholly incompetent to wear the crown, which was so much too heavy for his weak head, that he appeared to be completely bonneted under the burden. It sat upon him more like a porter's knot than a regal diadem ; while the sceptre, instead of being gracefully wielded by a firm hand, was to him no better than a huge poker in the fragile fingers of a baby. D •*U COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 1 During the early part of his reign, his mother Elfrida exercised con- siderable influence, but she at length retired from government, and took to the building business, erecting and endowing monasteries in order to expiate her sins. She became a sort of infatuated female Cubitt, and at every fresh qualm of conscience ran up another floor, which was, familiarly speaking, the " old story " with persons in her unfortunate predicament. The money expended in the erection of religious houses was thought to be an eligible investment in those days for sinners, who having no solid foundation for their hopes, were glad to take any ground to build upon. The Danes had for some time been tranquil, but their natural fearlessness made them ready for anything, and seeing Ethelred in a state of utter unreadiness on the throne, they indulged the hope of driving off the " slow coach" in an early stage of his sovereignty. It happened that young Sweyn, a scapegrace son of the King of Denmark, had been turned out of doors by his father, and having become by the injudicious step of his parent a gentleman at large, amused himself by occasional attacks upon the kingdom of Ethelred. This sovereign, who, instead of being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, appears to have been born one entire spoon of the real fiddle-headed pattern,* commenced the dangerous practice of paying the foe to leave him alone, which was of course holding out the prospect of a premium to all who took the trouble to bully him. He paid down ten thousand pounds in silver to the sea-kings, on condition of their retiring from his country, which they did until they had spent all the money, when they returned, threatening to pay him off, or be paid off themselves, an arrangement which Ethelred three times mustered the means of carry- ing into operation. Young Sweyn had now become King of Denmark, and had made friends with Olave, King of Norway, the son of old Olave, a deceased pirate, who had made his fortune by sweeping the very profitable crossing from his own country to England. These two scamps ravaged the southern coast in 994, and Ethelred, the unready king, was obliged to buy them off with ready money. In the year 1001, they made another demand of twenty-four thousand pounds, which left the sovereign not a single dump, except those into which he naturally fell at the draining of his treasury. Ethelred, who, if he was unready for everything else, appears to have been always ready for a quarrel, had contrived to fall out with Richard II., Duke of Normandy, and he was on the point of taking up arms, when he laid his hand at the feet of Emma, the sister of his enemy. Emma, who was called the " Flower of Normandy," consented to transplant herself to England, and became the acknowledged daisy of the British Court. We wotdd willingly take an enormous dip of ink, and letting it fall * Others think this royal spoon was not fiddle-headed, but that he was the earliest spe- cimen of the King's pattern. CHAP. VI. J MASSACRE OF THE DANES BY THE ENGLISH. 35 on our paper, blot out for ever from our annals the Danish massacre, which occurred at about the period to which our history has arrived. Unfortunately, however, were we to overturn an entire inkstand, we should only add to the blackness of the page, which tells us that the Danes were savagely murdered at a time when they were living as i'ellow-subjects among the people. It was on the feast of St. Brice, soon after his marriage with Emma, that the order to commit this sanguinary act was given by Ethelred. It is true that the Danish mercenaries had given great provocation by their insolence. They had, according to the old chroniclers,* sunk into such effeminacy that they washed themselves once a week and combed their heads still more frequently. We cannot perhaps accuse the chroniclers of being over nice in their objections to the Danish habits of cleanliness, but we really are at a loss to see the effeminacy of taking a bath every seven days, and preventing the hair from becoming in appearance little better than a quantity of hay in a state of unraked roughness. It was on the 15th of November, 1002, which happened to be one of their weekly washing days, that the Danes were surprised and treated in the bar- barous manner we have alluded to. The Lady Gunhilda, the sister of Sweyn, and the wife of an English earl of Danish extraction, was one of the victims of the massacre, and died lighting to the last with that truly feminine weapon, the tongue, predicting that her death would be followed by the downfal of the English nation. This act of ferocity naturally exasperated Sweyn, who resolved on invading England, and he prepared a considerable fleet, the vessels belonging to which appear to have been got up much in the same style as the civic barges on the Thames, for they were gaily gilded, and had all sorts of emble- matical devices painted over them. Sweyn himself arrived in the Great Dragon, a boat made in the inconvenient form of that disagreeable animal. Had the patron Saint of England been at hand to do his duty at that early period, the great dragon would have been speedily overcome, but it is a familiar observation, that people of this sort are never to be found when they are really wanted. The invaders landed at Exeter, which was governed by a Norman baron, a favourite of the queen ; but, as frequently happens in the course of events as well as on the race-course, the favourite proved deceptive when the enemy took the field, and resigned the place to pillage. The Danish foe marched into Wiltshire, and in every town they passed through they ordered the best of everything for dinner, when, after eating to excess of all the delicacies of the season, they had the indelicacy to settle their hosts when the bill was brought to them for settlement. To prevent even the possibility of old scores being kept against them, which they might one day be called upon to pay off, they burned down die houses, thus making a bonfire of all the property, including account books, papers, and wooden tallies that the establishment might * YAilIingford, p. 547. D 2 at> COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. LBOOK I contain. The entertainers or landlords had no sooner presented a bill, than it was met by a savage endorsement on their own backs ; and, though drawing and accepting may be regarded as a very customary commercial transaction, still, when the drawer draws a huge sword, the acceptor is likely to get by far the worst of it Settling the Bill. An Auglo- Saxon army was, however, organised at last, to oppose the Danes ; but Alfric the Mercian — an old traitor, who had on a former occasion played the knave against the king — was put at the head of it. Ethelred had punished the first treachery of the father by putting out the eyes of the son : but this castigation of the " wrong boy," the young one instead of the old one, had not proved effectual. His majesty must have been as blind as he had rendered the innocent youth, to have again entrusted Alfric with command ; and the consequences were soon felt, for the old imposter pretended to be taken suddenly ill, just as his men were going into battle. He called them off at the most important moment; and instead of stopping at home by himself, putting his feet in warm water, and laying up while the battle was being fought under directions which he could just as easily have given from his own room, he shouted for help from the whole army; and by sending some for salts, others for senna, a cohort here for a pill, and u CHA1'. VI.] 1N0UBSIONS AND SAVAGES BY THE DANES. 37 legion there for' a leech, he managed to keep the whole of the forces occupied in running about for him. Sweyn in the meantime got clear off with all his booty, and by the time that Alfric announced himself to be a little better, and able to go out, the enemy had vanished altogether from the neighbourhood. An appetite for conquest was not however the only appetite which the Danes indulged, for their voracity in eating was such that thev created a panic wherever they showed themselves. They ravaged Norfolk, and having reduced it to its last dumpling, they fell upon Yarmouth, whose bloaters they speedily exhausted, when they tried Cambridge, having probably been attracted thither by the fame of its sausages. Subsequently they advanced upon Huntingdonshire and A Dane securing his Booty. Lincolnshire, where they continued as long as they could find a bone tc pick with the inhabitants. They then crossed the Baltic, (a.d. 1004,"! having been obliged to quit England on account of there being literally nothing to eat ; so that a joint occupation with the natives had become utterly impossible. Those only, who from its being the land of their birth, felt that they must always have a stake in the country, could possibly .have mustered the resolution to remain in it. The vengeance of Sweyn being unsatisfied, he returned in the year 1006, when he carried fire and sword into every part, and it has been said with much felicity of expression, that amidst so much sacking the inhabitants had scarcely a bed to lie down upon. Unable to offer him any effectual check, the Great Council tried what, could be done with ready money, and £36,000 was the price demanded to pay out this formidable " man in possession " from the harassed and exhausted country. The sum was collected by an income-tax of about COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [book I. twenty shillings in the pound, or even more, if it could be got out of the people by either threats or violence. Such as had paid the Danes directly to save their homes from destruction were obliged to pay over again, like a railway traveller who loses his ticket ; and the natives seem to have got into a special train of evils, in which every engine of persecution was used against them. In 1008 new burdens were thrown upon the people, who for every nine hides of land were bound to find a man armed with a helmet and breastplate. This would seem no veiy difficult matter, consider- ing that two or three such men are found annually at the Lord Mayor's show ; but in former times they had something more difficult to do than walk in a procession. Though two shillings and his beer will, it is believed, secure the ser- vices of an ancient knight, armed cap-a-pie at an hour's notice in our own day, such a person was not to be had so cheap in the time of Ethelred. In addition to this in- fliction, eveiy three hundred and ten hides of land were bound to build and equip a ship for the defence of the country ; but it seems, after all, nothing but fair, that the hides should club together to save themselves from tanning. The fleet thus raised was, however, soon rendered valueless, in consequence of the various commanders having refused to row in the same boat, or rather insisting on pulling different ways, to the utter annihilation of their master's interest. Ethelred had selected for his favourite a low fellow of the name of Edric, who was exceedingly eloquent, and had not only talked one of the king's daughters into accepting his hand, but had even talked the monarch himself into sanctioning the unequal marriage. Edric had obtained for his brother Brightric a high post in the navy, as commander of eight vessels ; but the latter got into a quarrel with his nephew, Wulfnoth, who was known by the odd appellation of the " Child of the South Saxons," or the Sussex lad, as we should take the liberty of calling him. The " child " determined on flight ; but with a truly infantine objection to run alone, he got twenty of the king's ships to run along with him. Brightric cruised after him with eighty sail, but the tempest rising, and the rudders at the stern refusing to act, he was driven on shore by stern necessity. Wulfnoth, who had done a little ravaging on his own private account along the southern coast, returned Soldier of the Period. CHAP. VI.J REVERSES OF THE ENGLISH UNDER ETHELRED. 39 to make fire-wood of the timbers of Brightric. which fortune had so cruelly shivered. Ethelred was completely panic-stricken at the news of this reverse, and hurried home as fast as he could to summon a council, but every resolution that was passed no one had the resolution to execute. To add to the king's embarrassments, " Thurkill's host " came over, com- prising the flower of the Scandinavian youth, which planted itself in Kent, and caused a sad blow to the country. Various short peaces were purchased by the Saxons at so much a piece ; but, as Pope Gregory would have had it, every arrangement was not a sale, but a sell on the part of Thurkill, who continued sending in a fresh account for every Thurkill 3 little Account. fresh transaction. Ethelred was now in the very midst of traitors, and it was impossible that he should ever be brought round in such a circle. He had not a single officer to whom a commission could be safely en- trusted. Edric, his favourite, having taken offence, joined the enemy in an attack upon Canterbury, which had lasted for twenty days, when some one left the gate of the city ajar, either by design or accident. Alphege, the good archbishop, who had defended the place, was instantly loaded with chains; and though he felt himself dreadfully 40 COMIC HISTORY OB 1 ENGLAND. [BOOK I fettered, he declined to purchase his ransom, for the very best of all reasons, namely, that he had not the money to pay for it. The old man, wisely making a virtue of necessity, proclaimed his determination not to part with a shilling, "and indeed," said he, "I couldn't if I would ; for to tell you the truth, I haven't got it." The venerable prelate turning his pockets inside out, proved that he was penniless, when they offered to release him if he would per suade Ethelred to subscribe handsomely to the Danish rent, as we are fully justified in calling it. The archbishop, however, grew ex ceedingly saucy, when they pelted him with the remains of the feast, throwing bones, bottles, and bread, in rapid succession at the primate r who meekly bowed his head — or perhaps bobbed it up and down — to the treatment he experienced. The good old man remained for some time unshaken, till a shower of marrow-bones threw him on his knees r and one of the ruffians with a coarse pun exclaiming — " Let us make no more bones about it, but despatch him at once," brutally realised his- own ferocious suggestion. Thurkill now sent in another account of forty-eight thousand pounds,, as the price of his promised allegiance, which was certainly not worth a week's purchase, but Ethelred somehow or other found and paid the money. Sweyn, on hearing of this proceeding, pretended to be very angry with Thurkill, and fitted out a formidable fleet, with the avowed intention of killing with one stone two birds — namely, the Danish crow, and the Saxon pigeon. The ships of Sweyn were elaborately carved for show, and consequently not very well cut out for service. Nevertheless they were quite strong enough to vanquish the dispirited Saxons, who would have been overawed at the sight of a Danish oar, and might have been knocked down with a feather. Sweyn landed at York, and leaving his fleet in the care of his son. Canute, carried fire and sword into the north ; but as the inhabitants- were all. favourable to his cause, he had no more occasion to take fire into the north, than to carry coals to Newcastle. The lung had sought refuge in London, which refused to give in until Ethelred sneaked out,, when the citizens having been threatened, according to Sir Francis- Palgrave,* with damage to their " eyes and iimbs," threw open their gates to the conqueror. The unready monarch made for the Isle of Wight, but finding apartments dear and living expensive, he packed off his wife and children to his brother-in-law, Richard of Normandy, who lived in a court at Rouen. The duke made them as comfortable as he could, and the lady Emma having fished for an invitation for her husband, at length succeeded in getting him asked, to the infinite delight of old " Slowcoach," who for once got ready at a very short notice to avail himself of the asylum that was offered him. Sweyn was now king of England, a.d. 1013, but after a reign of six weeks, entitling him to only half-a-quarter's salary, he died at Gainsborough, very much lamented by all who did not know him. The Saxon nobles, who had so Chap, xiii., p. 310. CHAP. VI.] DEATH OF ETHELUED 41 recently sent Ethelred away, now wanted him back again. They despatched a message, however, to the effect that, if he would promise to be a good king, and never be naughty any more, they would be glad to accept him once more as their sovereign. Ethelred turning his son Edmond into a postman, forwarded a letter by hand, promising reform, but stipulating that there should be no "fraud or treachery," or in other words, no humbug on either side. This arrangement, though growing out of mutual } |g >tf5gu§£ Etneired despatcbiug a Letter by liis >oi distrust, and being little better than a provision which each party thought necessary in consequence of the dishonesty of both, must be regarded as highly important in a constitutional point of view, for it is evidently the germ of those great compacts, which have since been cocasionally concluded between the sovereign and the people. Ethelred, on his arrival at home, found that Canute, the son of Sweyn, having been declared king by the Danes, had coolly set himself up as landlord of the Crown and Sceptre at Greenwich. Ethelred and Canute continued for three years like " the Lion and the Unicorn „ lighting for the Crown," with about equal success, when death overtook ■* Slowcoach," after a long and inglorious reign. He died on St. George's Day, 1016, having been for five-and- thirty years man and boy, on and off the throne of England. 42 COMrC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK T. CHAPTER THE SEVENTH EDMOND IRONSIDES CANUTE HAROLD HAREFOOT HARDIGANCTE EDMOND THE CONFESSOR HAROLD THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS. On the decease of Ethelred the citizens of London offered the throne to his son Edmond, -who had got the strange nickname of Ironsides. He obtained this appellation from his extreme toughness ; for it has been said by a contemporary that if you gave him a poke in the ribs they rattled like the bars of a gridiron, or the railings round an area. There can be no doubt that Edmond had strength on his side, as far as he was personally concerned, but Canute, or as some called him, C'nute and "Cute, often overreached young Ironsides in cunning. In one of their battles — the fifth of a series — the Danes were on the point of defeat, when Edric, whom Edmond, however hard in the ribs, was soft enough in the head to trust after former treachery, raised the cry that the young leader had fallen. By some ingenious contrivance, Edric had cut off somebody s head which resembled Edmond in features, and, perhaps, improving the likeness with burnt cork or other preparations, raised it on a spear in the field, exclaiming " Flee, English ! flee, English ! dead is Edmond."* The whole army became paralysed at the sight, and even Ironsides himself was completely put out of countenance, for he was unable to tell at the moment whether his head was really upon his own shoulders. How Edric could have had the face to practise such an imposition may puzzle the reader of the present day ; but it was exceed- ingly likely that the trick would be aided by Edmond undergoing, as he no doubt would at the moment, a sudden change of countenance. Ironsides, though for the moment put to flight, having been as it were frightened at his own shadow, found on reflection, in the first piece of water he came to, that his head was in its right place, though his heart had slightly failed him, and he consequently paused in his retreat, and met Canute face to face, on the road to Gloucestershire. Ironsides, stepping forward in front of his army, made the cool proposition to Canute that instead of risking the lives of so many brave men, they should settle the quarrel by single combat. Considering that Edmond had not only the advantage of patent-safety sides, which rendered him nearly battleaxe proof, but was also about twice the height of his antago- nist, it is not surprising that Canute declined coming in immediate contact with the metallic plates, which would have acted as a powerful battery upon the diminutive Dane. Had he accepted the crafty chal- lenge, every blow inflicted on Ironsides would have been a severe rap on the knuckles to Canute, who might as well have run his head against a * These are the very words, exactly as they have been preserved. — Vide Sir F. PaL- grave, chapter xliii. page 308. CHAP. VII. EDMOND IRONSIDES AND CANUTE. 43 brick wall as engage in a single combat with a person of such undoubted metal. It was, however, agreed that they should divide the realm, and 7iW " Flee, English I detui is Edmcud I though as a general rule it is not advisable to do anything by halves, this arrangement was decidedly beneficial to all parties. The armies were both delighted at the proposal, and their joy affords proof that their discretion formed a great deal more than the better part cf their valour. 44 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [HOOK 1 Canute took the north, and Edmond the south, with a nominal superiority over the former, so that the crown is said by the chroniclers to have belonged to Ironsides. It was certainly better that the ascend- ancy should have been given to one of the two, for if their territory had been equal the crown must have been divided, and he that had the thickest head might have claimed the larger share of the regal diadem. Edmond lived only two months after the agreement had been signed, and as Canute took the benefit of survivorship, it has been good- naturedly suggested that he must have been either the actual or virtual murderer of Ironsides. There are only one or two facts which spoil this ingenious and amiable theory ; the first of which is, that there is no proof of his having been lulled at all, — an uncertainty that is quite sufficient to allow the benefit of the doubt to those who have been named as his murderers. Hume has, without hesitation, appointed Oxford as the scene of the assassination, and has been kind enough to select two chamberlains as the perpetrators of the deed, but we have, been unable to collect sufficient evidence to go to a\iury against the v anonymous chamberlains, whom we beg leave to dismiss with the comfortable assurance that they quit these pages without any stain on their characters. Canute, as the succeeding partner in the late firm of Edmond and Canute, found himself, in 1017, all alone in his glory on the British throne. His first care was to call a public meeting of " bishops," "duces," and "optimates," at which he voted himself into the chair; and he caused it to be proposed and seconded that he should be king to the exclusion of all the descendants of Ethelred. There can be no doubt that the meeting was packed, for every proposition of Canute was received with loud cries of " hear," and repeated cheers. Strong reso- lutions were passed against Edwy, the grown-up brother of Edmund Ironsides. Proceedings were instantly commenced; he was declared an outlaw, and was soon taken in execution in the then usual form- Edmond and Edwy, the two infant sons of Ironsides, were protected by the plea of infancy ; but Canute sent them out to dry-nurse to the king of the Swedes, with an intimation that if their mouths could be stopped by Swedish turnips, or anything else, the arrangement would be satisfactory to the English monarch. His Swedish Majesty, whether moved by pity or actuated by the feeling of " None of my child," sent the babies on to Hungary, where they were taken in, but not done for, as Canute had desired. The little Edmund died early, but his brother Edward settled respectably in life, married a relation of the Emperor of Germany, became a family man, and one of his daughters was subse- quently a Mrs. Malcolm, the lady of Malcolm king of Scotland. Edmund and Alfred, the other sons of Ethelred by Emma of Normandy, who were still living with their uncle Robert, had a sort of lawyer's letter written in their name to Canute, threatening an action of trover for the sceptre, unless it were immediately restored. After offering a moiety — being equal to a composition of ten shillings- in the pound — he proposed to settle the matter by marrying their CHAP. VII J CANUTE SUCCEEDS TO THE THEOXE. mamma, "who consented to this arrangement ; and the claims of the infants were never heard of again. Neglected by their mother, they forgot their mother tongue — they grew up Normans instead of Saxons, say the old chroniclers, which seems to be going a little too far, for a Saxon cannot become a Norman by living in Normandy, any more than a man becomes a horse by residence in a stable. After triumphing over his enemies, Canute somewhat altered for the better, and became a quiet, gentlemanly, but rather jovial man. He was fond of music, patronised vocalists, and occasionally wrote ballads, one of which is still preserved. As it was said of a certain performer, that he would have been a good actor if he had been possessed of figure, voice, action, expression, and intelligence ; so we may say of Canute, that if he had known anything of sense or syntax, if he had been happy at description, or possessed the slightest share of imagina- tion, he would have been a very fair poet. Canute performing on his favourite Instrument, A portion of one of Canute's once popular ballads has been preserved, and if the other verses resembled the one that has come down to us, there is no reason to regret that the rest is out of print and that nobody has kept the manuscript. 46 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. The following is the queer quatrain which remains as the sole spe- cimen of his Majesty's poetical abilities : — " Merrily sing the monks within Ely, When C'nute King rowed there by ; Row, my knights, row near the iaaa, And hear we these monks sing." This dismal distich is said to have been suggested by his hearing the solemn monastic music of the choir as he rowed near the Minster of Ely ; but we suspect the song must have been rather of a secular kind, or the term merrily would have been exceedingly inappropriate.* About the year 1017, Edric, the royal favourite, evinced some dis- position to strike for an advance of salary,- when Canute resisting the demand, the king and the courtier came to high words. Eric of Nor- thumbria, who happened to be sitting in the room with his battle-axe, — which was in those days as common a companion as an umbrella or a walking-stick in the present age, — got up, on a hint from the king, and axed the miserable Edric to death. Canute, who was also King of the Danes, the Swedes, — whose sove- reign was his vassal. — and of the Northmen, had many turbulent subjects abroad as well as at home, but he was in the habit of employing one against the other, so that it was utterly immaterial to him which of them were slain, so that he got rid of some of them. He kept a strong hand over his Danish Earls, and even his nephew, " the doughty Haco," — though why he should have been called " doughty," is a matter of much doubt — was exiled for disregard of the royal authority. The Swedes, who were always boiling over, got at last completely mashed by Earl Godwin ; and the kings of Fife, who, although mere piccoli, were monarchs of some note, having exerted themselves in a melancholy strain for independence, at length fell, for the sake of harmony, into the general submission to Canute. Six nations were now reduced into one general subordi — nation to the English king, who of course became the object of the grossest flattery* and upon one memo- rable occasion was nearly sacrificed to the puffing system of his inju- dicious friends. One day, when in the plenitude of his power, he caused the throne to be removed -from the throne-room and erected, during low tide, on the sea-shore. Having taken his seat, surrounded by his courtiers, he issued a proclamation to the ocean, forbidding it to rise, and commanding it not, on any accomit, to leave its bed until his permission for it to get up was graciously awarded. The courtiers backed the royal edict, and encouraged with the grossest adulation this first great practical attempt to prove that Britannia rules the waves. Such a rule, however, was soon proved to be nothing better than a rule nisi, which it is impossible to make absolute when opposed by Neptune's * Some writers have endeavoured to justify the royal author or vindicate the characters of the monks of Ely, by saying, that in those days " merry" meant " sad." These gen- tlemen might just as well argue that black meant white — a proposition some people would not hesitate to put forth as a rvea for the errors of royalty. CHAP. VII.] CANUTE REPROVES THE FLATTERY OF HIS COURTIERS. 47 irresistible motion of course. Every wave of Canutes sceptre was answered by a wave from the sea, and the courtiers, who were already up to their ankles in salt-water, began to fear that they should soon be pickled in the foaming brine. At length the monarch himself found his footstool disposed to go on swimmingly of its own accord, and there was every prospect that the whole party would undergo the ceremony of an immediate investiture of the bath. The sovereign, who was very lightly shod, soon found that his pumps were not capable of getting rid of the water, winch was now rising very rapidly. Having sat with his feet in the sea for a few minutes, and not relishing the slight specimen of hydropathic treatment he had endured, he jumped suddenly up, and began to abuse his courtiers for the mess into which he had been betrayed by their out- rageous flattery Canute reproving his Courtiers. One of the attendants who had remained at the back of the others during this ridiculous scene, observed drily, that the whole party would have been inevitably washed and done for, if Canute had not made a timely retreat. The sovereign was so humbled by this incident, that he. took off his crown upon the spot, made a parcel of it at once, for- warded it to Winchester Cathedral, and never wore it again. 48 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. Water, as we all know, can subdue the strongest spirit, and though the spirit of Canute could bear a great deal of mixing, it is evident that the sea had shown hirn his own weakness. In the year 1030 he went on a pilgrimage to Rome, with no other staff than a wooden one in his hand ; and instead of a valet to follow him, he had a simple wallet at his back. From a letter he wrote to his bishops while abroad, it would seem that he received presents of " vases of gold and vessels of silver, and stuffs, and garments of great price ; " so that by the time lie got home again, his wallet must have been a tolerable burden for the royal back. He died at Shaftesbury, in 1035, about three years after his return from Rome, and was buried at Winchester ; so that he finally laid his head where his crown had been already deposited. On the death of Canute there was the usual difficulty as to what was to be done with the British Crown ; for there were two or three who thought the cap fitted themselves, and who consequently claimed the right to wear it. There is no doubt that Hardicanute, the only legiti- mate son of the late King, would have tried it on had it not been left by will to Harold, while his brother Sweyn was the legatee of Norway. A compromise was, however, effected, by which Harold took everything north of the Thames, including, of course, the Baker Street and Fins- bury districts, while Hardicanute, to whom Denmark had been bequeathed., took the territories on the south shore, commencing in the Belvidere Road, Lambeth, and terminating at the southern extremity of the king- dom. He, however, left his English dominions to the management of his mother and Earl Godwin, while he himself lingered in Denmark; on account of the convivial habits of the Scandinavian chiefs ; for Hardi- canute drank, as the phrase goes, "like a fish," though the liquid he imbibed was very different from that which the finny tribe are addicted to. Edward and Alfred, the two sons of Ethelred, had come over to be in the way in case of anything turning up on the death of Canute, but Edward finding himself rather too much in the way, and fearing an unpleasant removal, took a return ticket for himself ancr* party for Normandy. Alfred, after vainly attempting to land at Sandwich, happily thought of Heme Bay, and though it was in the height of the season, he of course found no one there to resist his progress. Having ventured up to Guildford on the invitation of Godwin, Alfred and his soldiers found a sumptuous repast and comfortable lodgings prepared for them. But Godwin had been more downy even than the beds, and the soldiers having been seized and imprisoned found wet blankets thrown on their hopes of hospitable treatment. Edward himself was cruelly murdered, and Harold, who was called Harefoot, from the speed with which he could run, was now able to walk over the course, for there was no opposition to him in the race for the stakes of Royalty. He was fond of nothing but hunting, and as he could catch a hare by his own velocity he generally had the game In his own hands. He died a.d. 1040, after a short reign of four years; and though, if he had l'ved to old age, he might have proved a good sovereign in the long CHAP. VII. J HAR0 LJ) HARDICA N UTE. 49 run, he was certainly not happy in the walk of life where fortune had placed him Hardicanute, a name signifying Canute the Hardy, or the tough, came over on the death of Harold; but with all his toughness he evinced or assumed some tenderness at the cruel fate of his brother Alfred. He showed his sympathy for one by brutality towards another, and subjected Harold's memory to the most barbarous indignities. A frightful Example. Death of Hardicanute. Godwin, fearing that he might share the obloquy of his former master, propitiated Hardicanute by giving him a magnificent toy, con- sisting of a gilt ship, with a crew of eighty men, each having a bracelet of pure gold weighing sixteen ounces, and dressed in the most valuable habiliments. The new long no doubt melted the gold very speedily in drink, to which he was so much addicted, that he actually died intoxicated at a party given at Clapham, by one Clapa, from whose hame, or home, that suburb was called. His majesty was, according to the chroniclers, " on his legs," and the waiters had of course left the room, when Hardicanute unable to get further than " Gentlemen," staggered into his seat, and was carried out — mortally inebriated.* •Other historians say in so many words, that "he died drunk." We prefer using the milder expression of " mortally inebriated." 50 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. The throne being now vacant, Edward, the half-brother of the late King, who happened to be on the spot, was induced to step up and take a seat, though he was the senior of the late sovereign. In those days, however, the rules of hereditary descent were not very rigidly followed, for it was success that chiefly regulated succession. Edward's caus^ had, however, derived much support from Earl Godwin, the most extra- ordinary teetotum of former times. He had practised the political. chassez croisser to an extent that even in our own days has seldom been surpassed. He had turned his coat so frequently that he had lost all consciousness of which was the right side and which the wrong ; but he always treated that side as the right which happened to be upper- most. Godwin had, it is said, commenced life as a cow-boy, but he soon raised himself above the low herd, and eventually succeeded in making his daughter Editha the Queen of Edward. The king, who had lived much in Normandy, and had derived some assistance from Duke William, afterwards the Conqueror, had formed many Norman predilections, which created jealousy among his Saxon subjects. In 1051, he had received as a visitor his brother-in-law, one Eustace, Count of Boulogne, who, on returning home with his followers through Dover, insolently demanded gratuitous lodgings of one of the inhabitants. The Dover people, w lio are still remarkable for their high charges, and who seldom think of providing a cup of tea under two shillings, or a bed for less than half-a-crown, resisted the demands of Eustace and his friend?, when a fight ensued, and the Normans were compelled to make the best of their way out of the neighbourhood. Eustace, still smarting under the blows he had received, ran howling to Edward, like a boy who, upon receiving a thrashing, flies to his big brother for redress. The king desired Godwin, who was governor of Dover, to chastise the place ; but the Earl positively refused, and in- sisted that the Count of Boulogne could not complain if, when he required to be served gratuitously, he had got regularly served out. Edward, irritated at this message, prepared for war, and Godwin, who was joined by his sons, Sweyn and Harold, had collected a powerful army.; but when it came to the point, the soldiers on both sides gave evident symptoms of a desire to see the matter amicably arranged. As the king's forces consisted chiefly of the Fryd or Militia, there can be little doubt where the panic commenced ; and Godwin's men, recog- nising among the foe some of their fellow-countrymen trembling from head to foot, immediately commenced shaking hands, so that there was an end to all firmness on both sides. A truce was consequently con eluded, and the disputes of the parties referred to the arbitration of the Wittenagemot ; who doomed Sweyn to outlawry, and Godwin and Harold to banishment. Thus the " king's darlings," as they had been called, wero disposed of, and the pets became the object of petty vengeance. Editha, the daughter of Godwin, shared in the general disgrace of her family ; for the king, her husband, "reduced her," say the chroniclers "to her la?* CHAP. VII.] EDWARD HAROLD. 51 groat; " and with this miserable fourpeuco she was consigned to a monastery, where she was waited on by one servant of all-work, and controlled by the abbess, who was the sister of her royal tyrant. Edward being now released from the presence of Godwin, began to think of seeing his friends, and invited William of Normandy to spend a few months at the English Coutr. He came with a numerous retinue, and finding most of the high offices in the possession of Normans, he was able to feel himself perfectly at home. On the conclusion of his stay he departed, with a gift of horses, hounds, and hawks ; in fact, a minia- ture menagerie, which had been presented to him by his host, without considering the inconvenience occasioned by adding " a happy family " to the luggage of the Norman visitor. Edward was not allowed much leisure, for his guest had no sooner departed, than he found himself threatened by Earls Godwin and Harold, who sailed up to London, and landed a large army in the Strand. This important thoroughfare, which has been in modern times so frequently blockaded, was stopped up at that early period by men who were paving their way to power ; so that paviours of some kind have for ages been a nuisance to the neighbourhood. Edward agreed to a truce, by which Godwin and his sons were restored to their rank ; but the Earl, while dining soon afterwards with Edward at Windsor, was, according to some, choked in the voracious endeavour to swallow a tremendous mouthful. Thus perished, from an appetite larger than his windpipe, one of the most illustrious characters of his age. Harold, his son, succeeded him in his titles and estates ; but as the latter are said to have consisted chiefly of the Goodwin Sands, the legatee could not hope to keep his head above water on such an inheritance. Harold commenced his career by worrying Algar, a rival earl, who got worried to death (a.d. 1059), and he then turned his attention to the father-in-law of his victim, one Griffith, a Welsh sovereign, whose army not liking the bother of war, cut . off his head and sent it as a peace-offering to the opposite leader. This unceremonious manner of breaking the neck of a difficulty by decapitating their king, says more for the decision than the loyalty of the Welsh people. It was not long after this circumstance, that Harold, going out in a fishing boat on the coast of Sussex with one or two bungling mariners, got carried out to sea, and . was ultimately washed ashore like an old blacking bottle in the territory of Guy, Count of Ponthieu. Having been picked up by the Count, poor Harold was treated as a waii, and impounded until a heavy sum was paid for his ransom. William of Normandy, upon hearing that an Earl and retinue were pawned in the distinguished name of Harold, good naturedly redeemed them, at a great expense, but made the English Earl solemnly pledge himself to assist his deliverer in obtaining the English crown at the death of Edward. The king expired on the 5th of January, 1066, leaving the crown to William, according to some, and to Harold, according to others ; e 2 52 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK II. but as no will was ever found, it is probable enough that he agreed to leave the kingdom first to one and then to the other, according to which happened to have at the moment the ear of the sovereign.* Unpleasant Position of King Harold. Harold, forgetting the circumstance of his awkward predicament in the fishing boat, and ungrateful of William's services, immediately assumed the title of king, and got his coronation over the very same evening. It is even believed by some that the ceremony was so hastily performed as to have been a mere tete-a-tete affair between Stigand, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the new sovereign. When William received the news of Harold's accession he was having a game with a bow and arrows in Ins hunting ground near Rouen. His trembling knees suddenly took the form of his bow, and his lip began to quiver. He threw himself hastily into a skiff, and crossing the Seine, never stopped till he reached his palace, where he walked up and down the hall several times, occasionally sitting down for a moment in the porter's chair, then starting up and resuming his promenade up and down the passage. On recovering from his reverie he sent ambas- * This Edward was generally called the Confessor, hut how he got the name wo aro unable to say with certainty. It has been ingeniously suggssted that it was on the lucus a non lucendo principle, and that he was called the Confessor, from his never confessing anything. CHAP. VII.] INVASION BY WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 53 sadors to demand of Harold the fulfilment of his promise ; but that dishonest person replied, that he being under duress when he gave his word, it could not be considered binding. William accordingly called a public meeting of Normans, at which it was resolved unanimously, that England should be invaded as speedily as possible. A subscription was immediately entered into to defray the cost, and volunteers were admitted to join the expedition without the formality of a reference. Tag from Maine and Anjou, Kag from Poitou and Bretagne, with Bob-tail from Flanders, came rapidly pouring in ; while the riff of the Rhine, and the raff of the Alps, formed altogether a mob of the most miscellaneous character. Those families who are in the habit of boasting that their ancestors came in with the Conqueror, would scarcely be so proud of the fact if they were aware that the com- panions of William comprised nearly all the roguery and vagabondism of Europe. A large fleet having been for some time in readiness at St. Valery, near Dieppe, crossed in the autumn of 1066, and on the 28th of September the Normans landed without opposition at Pevensey near Hastings. William, who was the last to step on shore, fell flat upon his hands and face, which was at first considered by the soldiers as an evil omen ; but opening his palm, which was covered with mud, he gaily exclaimed, " Thus do I lay my hands upon this ground — and be assured The Landing of William i),e Conqueror, 54 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK J. that it is a pie you shall all have a finger in." This speech, or words to the same effect, restored the confidence of the soldiers, and they marched to Hastings, where they waited the coming of the enemy. Harold, who had come to London, left town hy night for the Sussex coast, and halted at Battle, where the English forces kept it up for two or three days and nights with songs and revelry. At length, on Satur- day, the 14th of October, William gave the word to advance, when p gigantic Norman, called Taillefer, who was a minstrel and a juggler, went forward to execute a variety of tricks, such as throwing up his sword with one hand and catching it with the other; balancing his battle-axe on the tip of his chin ; standing on his head upon the point of his spear, and performing other feats of pantomimic dexterity. He . next proceeded to sing a popular ballad, and having asked permission to strike the first blow, he succeeded in making a tremendous hit ; but some one happening to return the compliment, he was very soon quieted. The men of London, who formed the body guard of Harold, made a snug and impenetrable barrier with their shields, under which they nestled very cosily.* From nine in the morning till nine in the afternoon the Normans continued watching for the English to emerge from under their shields, as a cat waits for a mouse to quit its hiding-place. As the mouse refuses to come to the scratch, so the Londoners declined to quit their snug gery, until William had the happy idea of ordering his bowmen to shoot into the air ; and they were thus down upon the foe, with considerable effect, by the falling of the arrows. Still the English stood firm until William, by a pretended retreat, induced the soldiers of Harold to quit their position of safety. Three times were the Saxon snails tempted to come out of their shells by this crafty manoeuvre, but their courage was still unshaken, until an arrow, shot at random, hit Harold in the left eye, when his dispirited followers fled like winking. The English king was carried to the foot of the standard, where a few of his soldiers formed round him a little party of Protectionists. William fought with desperate valour, and was advancing towards the banner, when an English billman drew a bill which he made payable at sight on the head of the Duke of Normandy. Fortunately the precious metal of William's helmet was sufficient to meet the bill, which must otherwise have crushed the Norman leader. Harold, whose spirit never deserted him, observed with reference to the wound in his eye, that it was a bad look out, but he must make the best of it. At length be fell exhausted, when the English having lost their banner, found their energies beginning to flag, and William became the conqueror. * Some of them, who were "buried under their hucklers, may have heen inhabitants of Bucklerobury, which may have derived its name from the practice we have described. BOOK II. THE PERIOD FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE DEATH OF KING JOHN. CHAPTER THE FIRST WILLIAM THE CONQUEROE. Before entering on our account of the reign of William the Conque- ror, a bird's-eye view of the early biography of that illustrious person may be acceptable. He was bom in 1024, of miscellaneous parents, and was a descendant of the illustrious Rollo, who wrested Normandy from Charles the Simple, whose simplicity consisted no doubt in his sub- mitting to be done out of his possessions. William had been in his -early days one of those intolerable nuisances, an infant prodigy, and at eight years old exhibited that ripeness of judgment and energy of action for which the birch is in our opinion the best remedy. He had quelled a disturbance in his own Court, when very young ; but a beadle in our own day can do as much as this, for a disturbance in a court is often quelled by that very humble officer. His marriage with Matilda, daughter of the Earl of Flanders, gave him the benefit of respectable connexion, so useful to a young man starting in life ; and after trying ■with all his might to acquire Maine, his success in obtaining it added to his influence. Such was the man whom we left in our last chapter on the field of Battle, and on our return to him we find him building Battle Abbey in memory of his victory. He caused a list or roll to be made of all the nobles and gentlemen who came over with him from Normandy, and many of them were men of mark, if we are to judge by their signatures. This earliest specimen in England of a genuine French roll was pre- served for some time under the name of the roll of Battle Abbey, but the monks were in the habit of making it a medium for advertisement, by allowing the insertion of fresh names, to gratify that numerous class who are desirous of being thought to have come in with the Conqueror. The roll of Battle Abbey was no longer confined to the thorough-bred, but degenerated into a paltry puff, made up in the usual way, with pasfce — and scissors. William, instead of going at once to London, put up for a few days Hastings, expecting the people to come and ask for peace ; but thoi 50 COITIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND- [BOOK II. he remained at home the greater part of the day, the callers were by no means numerous. He accordingly took his departure for Romney, which he savagely rummaged. He then went on to Dover, which Holin shed describes as the lock and key of all England, but the inhabitants, finding the lock and key in hostile hands, sagaciously made a bolt of it. William's soldiers had no sooner taken possession of Dover than they were all seized with severe illness, but whether they availed themselves of the celebrated Dover Powders is exceedingly dubious. The Con- queror at length went towards London, where the Witan had proclaimed as king a poor little boy of the name of Edgar Atheling, the son of Edmund Ironside. William, however, nearly frightened the Witan out of its wits by burning Southwark, and a deputation started from town to Berkhampstead, to make submission to the Conqueror. Young Edgar made a formal renunciation of the throne, which was not his to renounce, and indeed, when he sat upon it the child fell so very far short, that for him to feel the ground under his feet was utterly impossible. After these concessions, the day was fixed for William's coronation in Westminster Abbey, on the 26th of December, 1066, when the cere- mony was perf< nned amid enthusiastic cheering which lasted for several minutes. The Normans oi : de not being accustomed to Saxon habits, mistook the applause for di probation, and thinking that their Duke was being hooted, or pei^aps pelted, with " apples, oranges, nuts, and pears," they began to avenge the fancied insult by taking it out in violence towards the populace. Houses were burnt down in every direction, when the noise made without became audible to those within, who rushed forth to join in the row, and William, it is said, was left almost alone in the abbey, to finish his own coronation. He, however, went through the whole ceremony, and even added a few extempora- neous paragraphs to the usual coronation affidavit, by the introduction of an oath or two of his own, after the interruption of the ceremony. The Conqueror having taken some extensive premises at Barking, went to reside there for a short time, and was visited by several English families, among whom that of the warrior Coxo — since abbreviated into Cox — was one of the most illustrious. William found considerable difficulty in satisfying the rapacity of his followers, who thought nothing of asking for a castle, a church, an abbey, or a trifle of that kind by way of remuneration for their services. He scattered those articles right and left, according to the chroniclers ; but it would be difficult to say where he got them from, were it not that the chroniclers are so skilled in castle-building that they have always a stock on hand to devote to the purposes of histoiy. * After six months' residence in England, William, having got his half- year's salary as king, was in funds to enable him to take a trip to [ormandy. He took with him a complete sideboard of English — not fritish — plate, and with the treasures of this country dazzled the eyes CHAP. I.] EEIGN OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 57 of his continental friends and subjects. A party of Young England gents who accompanied him attracted also, by their long flowing hair, the admiration of foreigners Odo, William's half-brother, who had been left at home to rule in the absence of the king, soon — as the reader may anticipate from the obvious pun that must ensue — rendered himself utterly odious. His treatment of the conquered people was cruel in the extreme ; he filled the cup of misery not only to the brim, but degradation was kept con- tinually on draft, every new blow being a fresh tap for the victims of tyranny. The very smallest beer will, however, ferment at last if kept continually bottled up ; and though the Entire of England had been for a time rendered flat, there was a good deal of genuine British stout at bottom. A general effervescence broke out on the departure of William, who had acted hitherto as a cork ; but Odo evinced a disposition to play the screw, by drawing out whatever he could in the absence of his superior. , A general conspiracy seemed to be on the point of breaking out, when William, who had allowed letter after letter to remain unanswered which had been sent to entreat him to come home, started late one night for Dieppe, on his return to England. His firs f t care was to assuage the discontent, and he had already learned the acknowledged trick, that the shortest way of stopping a British mquth, is by liberally feeding it. He accordingly gave a series of Chr; iias dinners, and he invited several Saxon Earls, to meet a succession,, of Bovine Barons. If the banquets were intended as a bait, there is no doubt that the English very readily swallowed them. By way of further propitiating the people, he published a law in the Saxon tongue, decreeing " that every son should inherit from his father," or in other words, should take after him. If, however, he was liberal in his invitations to dinner, he took care that the people should pay the bill, for he had scarcely finished entertaining them, when he b^gan taxing them most oppressively. William did not acquire the title of Conqueror quite so speedily as has been generally imagined, for he was occupied at least seven years in running about the country from one place to the other, wiping out, by many severe wipes, the remaining traces of insubordination to his government. In the year 1068 he besieged Exeter, where Githa, the aged mother of Harold, was leading a quiet life, surrounded by a bevy of venerable gossips. The Conqueror routed them out, and they repaired to Bath, where their taste for tittle-tattle might have been indulged, but meeting with rudeness from the celebrated Bath chaps, they hastened to Flanders. William now sent for his wife Matilda, whom he had not brought over until he could form some idea how long he was likely to remain in his new quarters. A cheap coronation was got up for her a£ Winchester, the contract having been taken by Aldred, Archbishop York, who it is believed found all the materials for the ceremo without extra charge; and as the queen was rather short, we presume that everything w 7 as cut down to a low figure. A little afi lyto 3r at^^gfl j^ I iffl 58 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK II. this event, Harolds two sons, Godwin and Edmund, with a little brother, facetiously called Magnus, came over from Ireland, and hovered about the coast of Cornwall, where young Magnus, being a minor, perhaps hoped for sympathy. They planted their standard, expecting that the inhabitants would fly to it, but they only flew at it, to tear it in pieces. Poor Magnus, with infantine tenderness, cried like a baby over the insulted bunting. Tired with then* ill success, the three brothers eventually went over as suppliants to Denmark, where the unhappy beggars were received by Sweyn with amiable hospitality. In the ensuing year, William turned Somerset so completely upside down that it could not have known whether it stood on its head or its heels ; and in eveiy shire he took, he built a castle, by way of insuring the lives of himself and his followers in the county. According to Hollinshed, the greatest indignities were passed upon the conquered people. They were compelled even to regulate their beards in a par- ticular fashion, from which the youngest shaver was not exempt. They were obliged to " round their hair," which probably means that they were obliged to keep it curled, and thus even in their coiffure they were ruled by a rod of iron. In addition to this, they were forced to " frame themselves in the Norman fashion," which must have made them the pictures of misery. William had, in one of his amiable moods, probably over a bottle of wine, promised Edwin, the brother-in law of Harold, his daughter in marriage. When, however, the Earl came to claim his fair prize, tho Conqueror not only withdrew his consent, but insulted the suitor, and a William refusing his Daughter to Edwin. CIIAP. I.J DIVISION OF LANDS AMONGST THE NORMANS. 59 scene ensued very similar to the common incident in a farce, when a testy old father or guardian flies into a passion with the walking gentle- man, exclaiming " Hoity-toity ! " and calling him a young jackanapes Edwin, irritated at this treatment, collected an army in the north, and waited near the river Ouse ; hut the courage of his soldiers soon oozed out when the Conqueror made his appearance. William was victorious ; but he had much to contend against during the few first years of his reign, and an invasion of the Danes, under Osborne, was a very trouble- some business. The Normans, having shut themselves up hi York, set fire to some of the houses outside the city, to check the approach of the foe ; but the flames catching the Minster, a " right wi' Burns " seemed to be inevi- table. Not wishing to remain to be roasted, they risked the minor inconvenience of being basted, and made a very lively sally out of the city. They were nearly all killed, and the Danes took possession of York ; but the place being reduced to ashes, was little better than an extensive dust-hole. Osborne and his followers not wishing to winter among the cinders, retired to then* ships, and William thus had time to make further arrangements. The Conqueror was hunting in the Forest of Dean when he heard of the catastrophe, and having his lance in his hand, he swore he would never put it down until he had exterminated the enemy. This must have been a somewhat inconsiderate vow, for though it may have been chivalrous to declare he would never put down his lance until a certain remote event, the weapon must have been at times a very inconvenient companion, as he did not commence his campaign until the spring ; but as his vow came into operation immediately, the lance must have been a dead weight in his hand during the whole of the winter season. At length he mounted his horse, and rode rough-shod over the people of York, after which he took Durham, and ultimately repaired to Hexham, to which he administered a regular Hexham tanning. Robbery, under the less obnoxious name of confiscation, now became veiy general, and William commenced the wholesale subtraction of lands, with a view to their division among his Norman followers. The conquered English had nearly all their property seized, and those who had but little shared the lot of the wealthiest in the spoliation to which all were subjected. William de Percy profited largely in purse; and if in those days maimers made the man, he must have been a made man indeed, for he got no less than eighty manors. Several other names will be found in Domesday Book, drawn up about fifteen yt& - after the conquest, from which some of our oldest ancestors may learn iull par- ticulars of their early ancestors. The title of Richmond had its origin from a Breton ruffian of the name of Allan, who having got a mount near York as his share of the plunder, gave it the name of Riche-Mont, or Rich-Mount ; and the Earl of Cumberland was a low fellow named Reuouf Meschines latter title being no doubt derived from mesquin, to express someti 60 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK IT. mean and pitiful in this individual's character. The boast of having come in with the Normans is equivalent to a confession of belonging to a family whose founder was a thief, or at least a receiver of stolen articles. The resistance to the Conqueror was, in many parts of England, exceedingly obstinate, and Hereward of Lincoln, commonly called 11 England's Darling," or the Lincoln pet, was one of the most resolute of William's enemies. Such was the impetuosity of the pet, that the Normans imagined he must be a necromancer : and William, in order to turn the superstitions of the people to his own account, engaged a rival conjuror, or sorceress, who was placed with much solemnity on the top of a wooden tower, among the works that were proceeding for the defence of the invader's array. Hereward, however, seizing his opportunity, set fire to the wizard's temple, and the unfortu- nate conjuror being puzzled, terminated his career amidst a grand pyrotechnic display, which proved for Hereward and his party a blaze of triumph. The English had established a camp of refuge at Ely, but the hungry monks, whose profession it wa3 to fast, were the first, when provisions ran short, to grumble at the scarcity. Their vows were evidently as empty as themselves, and though they had pledged themselves to abstinence, they began eating their own words with horrible voracity. They betrayed the isle to the Conqueror ; but Hereward refusing to submit, plunged, like a true son of the soil, into the swamps and marshes, where the Normans would not venture to follow him. Protected to a certain extent in the bosom of his mother earth, he carried on a vexatious warfare, until William offered terms which took the hero out of the mud, and settled him in the estates of his ancestors. It has been customary with historians to cut the conquest exceedingly short, as if Vcni, vldi, vici, had been the motto of William ; and that, in fact, the Anglo-Saxons had surrendered at Ins nod, — overcome by the waving of his plume — if he ever wore one ; or in other words, knocked down with a feather. Such, however, was not the case ; for it took seven years' apprenticeship to accustom the hardy natives of our isle to the subjection of a conqueror. While William was in Normandy, whither he had been called to protect his possessions in Maine — for, as we are told by that mad wag. Matthew Paris, he never lost sight of the Main chance, — Philip of France offered some assistance to Edgar Atheling. This individual accordingly set sail, but the unlucky dog had scarcely got his bark upon the sea, when the winds set up a dismal howl, and he was driven ashore near Northumberland. Edgar and a few friends escaped to Scotland, and at the advice of his brother-in-law, Malcolm, sought a onciliation with the Conqueror, who allowed the Atheling his lodging the palace of Rouen, with a pound's worth of silver a day for his ^Hhtenance. CHA1. I.] INSURRECTIONS ROBERT OF NORMANDY. 61 The king was soon recalled to England by an insurrection, got up by Roger Fitz Osborn, who, together with a large number of persons, who were all subject to Fitz, determined on resisting the insolent oppressior of the Conqueror. Young Roger, whose father, William Fitz Osborn, had been of great service to the Norman invader, was engaged to Emma de Gael, a daughter of the Duke of Norfolk, when the banns were most unreasonably forbidden by the sovereign. The young couple, however, determined not to be foiled, had made a match of it ; and at the wedding feast, which was given at Norwich, some violent speeches were made, in the course of which William was denounced as a tyrant and a humbug, amid repeated shouts of " hear, hear," from the whole of the company. The grand object of the Norman rebels was to bring round Earl Waltheof, and having taken care to heat him with wine, they did succeed in bringing him round in a most wonderful manner. He assented to every proposition, and his health was drunk with enthusiasm, followed, no doubt, by the usual complimentary chorus, attributing to him the festive virtues of jollity and good fellowship. The next morning, however, after " a consultation with his pillow," according to the Saxon chroniclers — from which we are to infer that he and his pillow laid their heads together, on the principle of goose to goose— he began to think he had acted very foolishly at the party of the previous night, and, jumping out of bed, packed off a communication to those with whom he had promised to co-operate. After presenting his compliments, he " begged to say, that the evening's amusement not having stood the test of the morning's reflection, he was under the painful necessity of withdrawing any consent he might have given to any enterprise that might have been proposed at the meeting of the day preceding." The conspiracy, which had commenced in drinking, ended, very appropriately > in smoke ; nearly all who took a part in the Norwich wedding were killed, and it has been well said by a modern writer that a share in the Norwich Union was not in those days a very profitable matter. It was about the year 1077 that William began to be wounded by that very sharp incisor — the tooth of filial disobedience. When preparing for the conquest of England he had promised, in the event of success, to resign Normandy to his son Robert, and had even taken an oath — clenched, probably, with the exclamation, " So help me, Bob ! " — that if Robert assisted in his father's absence the boy should have the Duchy. Having conquered England, the Governor returned, and wanted Normandy back again, observing, with coarse quaintness, that he was " not going to throw off his clothes till he went to bed," or, in other words, insisting that Robert, who had got into his father's shoes, should instantly evacuate the paternal high-lows. Robert was brave, but by no means foppish in his dress, and had acquired the nick-name of Robert Curt-hose or Short-stockings. He probably derived this appellation from a habit of wearing socks, and it is not unlikely that he was famm* I 62 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK li. liarly known as Bob Socks among his friends and acquaintances. Young Socks, who had always been irritable, was on one occasion roused to a pitch of passion by having the contents of a pitcher pitched upon his head by his two brothers, from the balcony of his own lodging. He became mad with rage, and, irritated by the water on the brain, he ran up-stairs with a drawn sword in his hand, when the king, hearing the row among the three boys, rushed to the spot, and succeeded in quelling it in a manner not very favourable to young Socks, who ran away from home towards Kouen. Through the inter- cession of his mother, he was persuaded to return home, and it is probable that M B. S." — the initials of Bob Socks — was " entreated to return home to his disconsolate mother, when all would be arranged to his satisfaction." Nevertheless, his pocket-money continued to be as short as his hose, and his companions declared it to be a shame that he aever had a shilling to spend in anything. He accordingly went to his father, and demanded Normandy, but the monarch refused him, reprimanded him for his irregular habits, and recommended him to adopt "the society of serious old men," — the " heavy fathers " of that early peiiod. Robert declared irre\erently that the old pumps were exceed- ingly dry companions, and reiterated his demand for Normandy. The king wrathfully refused, when young Socks announced his determination to take his valour to the foreign market, and place it at the service of any one who chose to pay him his price for it. He visited various localities abroad, where he recounted his grievances, and borrowed money, making himself a sort of begging-letter impostor, and going about as if with a board round his neck, inscribed " Turned out of doors," or " Totally destitute." Though he collected a good round sum, he spent the whole of it in minstrels, jugglers, and parasites, so that he divided his time between the enjoyment of popular songs, conjuring tricks, and paid paragraphs, embodying the most outrageous puffs of his own character. After leading a vagabond life for some lime, he was set up by Philip of France, in a castle on the confines of Normandy ; but as he was only allowed lodging, he had to find his board as he could, by plundering his neighbours. One day he had sallied forth in search of a victim, when he found himself engaged in single combat with a tall gentlemanly man in a mail coat and a vizor, forming a sort of iron veil, which covered his countenance. The combatants had been for some time banging at each other with savage vehemence, when Robert delivered " one, two, three," with such rapid succession on the head of his antagonist, that the latter, unable to resist so many plumpers coming at once to the pole, retired from the contest. The stalwart knight being regularly knocked up, was glad to knock under, and fell to the earth with a piteous howl, in which Robert recognised the falsetto of his own father. Young Socks, who had a good heart, burst into tears, and instead of falling on his antagonist to finish .him as he had designed, he fell upon his own knee to ask forgiveness CHAP. 1.] IMPRISONMENT OF ODO, BISHOP OF BAYEUX. ca of his parent. William, who would have been settled in one more crack, took advantage of his sons assistance, but went away muttering maledictions against Young Socks, who subsequently finding the vin- dictiveness of his father's character, declined any fm'ther communication with the " old gentleman," and never saw him again. In the reign of William the Church was always disposed to be militant, and among the most pugnacious priests was Walcher de Lorraine, the bishop of Durham, who, it is said, often turned his crozier into a lance, by having, we presume, a long movable hook at the end of it. He divided his time between preaching and plunder, correcting the morals of the people one day, and on the next picking their pockets. The Bishop of Durham. He was, in fact, alternately teaching and thrashing them, as if the only way to impress them with religious truth, was to beat it regularly into them. At length, however, the right reverend robber having become very unpopular in his neighbourhood, agreed to attend a public meeting of the inhabitants at Gateshead, to offer explanations on the subject of the murder of one Liulf, a noble Englishman, and on other miscellaneous business. The attendance was far more numerous than select, and the old bishop becoming exceedingly nervous, ran away into the church with all his retinue. The people declared that if he did not come out they would smoke him out, by setting fire to the building ; and they had proceeded to carry their threats into execution, when, half suffocated with the heat, the bishop came to the door with his face muffled up hi 64: COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND BOOK II. the skirts of bis coat, and addressed a few words to the mob in so low a tone, that our reporters being at a considerable distance — almost eight centuries off — have not succeeded in catching them. The bishop, however, caught it at once, for he was slain after a short and rather irregular discussion. The words " Slay ye the bishop," were distinctly heard to issue from a voice in the crowd, and the speaker, — whoever he was, — having put the question, the ayes, and the bishop had it. William selected one bishop to avenge another, and chose the furious Odo, who in spite of cries for mercy, and piteous exclamations of " O ! don't, Odo !" killed every one that came across his path, without judicial forms, or, familiarly speaking, without judge or jury. This ambitious butcher looked with a pope's eye at the triple crown of Kome, and set out for Italy, with plenty of gold, to cany his election to the papal chair by corruption and bribery. The virtues of the cardinals might not have proved so strong as the cardinal virtues ; but Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux, had no chance of trying the experiment, for he was stopped in his expedition to Borne, at the Isle of Wight, by his brother-in-law, the Conqueror William ordered his arrest ; but no one volunteering to act as bailiff, the king seized the prelate by the robe, and took him into custody. " I am a clerk — a priest," cried Odo, endeavouring to get away. " I don't care what you are," exclaimed William, retaining his hold upon his prisoner. " The pope alone has the right to Uy me," shrieked the bishop, getting away, and leaving a fragment of his robe m the king's hand. " But I 've got you, and don't mean to part with you again in a hurry," muttered William, after darting forward and effecting the recapture of Odo, who was immediately committed to a dungeon in Normandy. The king soon after this incident lost his wife Matilda, and he became, after her decease, more cruel, avaricious, and jealous of his old companions-in-arms, than ever. One of the worst acts of his reign was the making of the New Forest in Hampshire, which he effected by driving away the inhabitants without the smallest compensation, from a space of nearly ninety miles in circumference. He appointed a bow- bearer, whose office still exists as a sinecure, with a salary of forty shillings a year, for which the gentleman who holds the appointment, swears " to be*of good behaviour towards the sovereign's wild beasts," and of course, in compliance with his oath, would feel bound to touch his hat to the British Lion. After founding the New Forest, the king enacted the most oppressive laws ; placing on the killing of a hare such penalties as are enough to cause "ea:h particular hair to stand on end ; " by their extreme barbarity. CfeAP I.J WILLIAM MAKES HIS WILL. 65 Towards the end of the year 1086 William, who had grown exceed- ingly fat, started for France, to negotiate with Philip about some William departing for France. possessions, when the latter indulged in some small puns at the expense of the corpulency of the Conqueror. By comparing him to a fillet of veal on castors, and suggesting his being exhibited at a prize monarch show» Philip so irritated William that the latter swore, with fearful oaths, to make his weight felt in France ; and he kept his word, for falling upon Mantes, he succeeded in completely crushing it. Having, however, gone out on horseback to see the ruins, the gigantic animal he was riding stepped on some hot ashes, which set the brute dancing so vigorously that the pummel of the saddle gave the Conqueror a fearful pummelling. He' was so much shaken by this incident that he resolved never to ride the high horse or indeed any other horse again ; and he was soon after removed, at his own request, to the monastery of St. Gervas, just outside the walls of Rouen. Becoming rapidly worse, his heart softened to his enemies, most of whom he pardoned, and he then proceeded to make his will, by which he left Normandy to his son Robert, and bequeathed the crown of England to be fought for by William and Henry, with a significant wish, however, that the former T>6 COMIC HIST0K7 OF ENGLAND [BOOK IX. might get it. Henry exclaimed emphatically, " What are you going 1x> give me?" and on receiving for his answer, "Five thousand pounds weight of silver out of my treasury," ungraciously demanded what he should do with such a paltry pittance. " Be patient," replied the king ; "suffer thy elder brothers to precede thee — thy time will come after theirs ; " but Henry, muttering " It 's all very well to say ' be patient,' " hurried out of the room, drew the cash, weighed it carefully, and brought a strong box to put it in.* To think of an iron chest at such a moment proved the possession of a heart of steel ; and William, the elder son, was nearly as bad, for he hastened to England to look after the crown before his father had expired. It was on the 9th of September, 1087, that the Conqueror died, and his last faint sigh was the signal for a rush to the door, in which priests r doctors, and knights joined with furious eagerness. In vain did a dimi nutive bishop ask a stalwart warrior " where he was shoving to?" and the expostulations of a prim doctor to the crowd, entreating them to keep back, as there was "plenty of time, "were utterly disregarded. The scene resembled that which may be witnessed occasionally at the pit door of the Opera, for the whole of William's attendants were eager to get home for the purpose of being early in securing either some place or plunder. The inferior servants of the royal robber — like master, like man — commenced rifling the king's trunks and drawers of all the cash r jewels, and linen. There seemed every prospect of the Conqueror being left in the city of Rouen to be buried by the parish, when a few of the clergy began to think of the funeral. The Archbishop ordered that it should take place at St. Stephens, in Caen, and none of the family being present, the undertaker actually came down upon a poor good- natured old knight, who had put himself rather prominently forward as a sort of provisional committee-man. How the affair was settled we are unable to state, but we have it on the authority of Orderic, that when the Bishop of Evreux had pronounced the panegyric, a man in the- crowd jumped up, declaring the Conqueror was an old thief, and that he — the man in the crowd — claimed the ground on which they were then standing. Many of the persons round cheered him in his address, and the bishops, for the sake of decency, paid out the execution from the Conqueror's grave for sixty shillings. The character of William has been a good deal blackened, but scarcely more than it deserves, for there is no doubt that he was cruel, selfish, and unprincipled. It is, however, a curious fact, that what receives blacking from one age gets polished by the next ; and this may account for the brilliance that has been shed in this country over the name of one who introduced the feudal system, the Game Laws, and other evils, the escape from which has been the work of many centuries. Though a natural son he was an unnatural father, and the result was, that being an indifferent parent, his children became also indifferent. He had a * For further particulars of Henry's conduct, vide Orderic. CHAP. II.] WILLIAM RUFUS. 67 violent temper, and was such a brutal glutton that he aimed a blow at Fitz-Osborne, his steward, for sending to table an under-done crane, when Odo interfered to check his master's violence. Of his personal appearance we have an authentic record in a statue placed against one of the pillars of the church of St. Stephen, at Caen ; but as the figure is without a head, we have tried in vain to form from it some idea of the Conquerors countenance. From the absence of the face in the statue we can only infer that William wore an expression of vacancy. CHAPTER THE SECOND. WILLIAM RUFUS. illiam, the son of the Conqueror, had ob- tained the nick-name of Rufus, from his red hair, and these jokes on personal peculiarities afford a lamentable proof of the rudeness of our ancestors. Having left his father at the point of death, he hastened to England, where he pretended to be acting for the king; resorting to what, in puffing phraseology, is termed the untradesmanlike artifice of " It 's the same concern," and doing business for himself in the name of the late sove- reign. One of his first steps was, of course, towards the treasury, from which he drew sixty thousand pounds in gold and silver. Having received from his father a letter of introduction to Archbishop Lanfranc, he rushed, with the avidity of a man who has got a reference to a new tailor, and presenting it to the primate, requested that measures might be taken for putting the crown on his head as soon as possible. Lanfranc, having secured the place of Prime Minister for himself, issued cards to a few prelates and barons, inviting them to a coronation on Sun- day, the 26th of September, 1087, when the event came off rather quietly. When Curt-hose — whom the reader will recognise as our old friend Socks — first heard of his father's death, he was living on that limited !>ut rather elastic income, his wits, at Abbeville, or in some part of Germany. He, however, repaired to Rouen, where he was very well received; while Henry, the youngest brother, stood like a donkey between two bundles of hay, not knowing whether he should have a bite at Britain or a nibble at Normandy. Rufus had, at the commencement of his reign, to contend with a f2 68 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK II. conspiracy got up by his uncle Odo, to place Robert on tbe throne of England as well as on that of Normandy; for the great experiment of sitting on two stools at once had not then been sufficiently carried out to prove the folly of attempting it. Odo took rapid strides, but as Robert, if he took any stride at all, must have attempted one from Rouen to Rochester, he remained in his Duchy, leaving his followers to follow their own inclination at their own convenience. They had fortified Rochester Castle, but being besieged, and a famine threatening, they were glad to find a loop-hole for escape, which they effected by capitulating on certain conditions, one of which, proposed by Odo, was a stipulation that the band should not play as the vanquished party left the Castle. Rufus. feeling that a procession without music would go off flatly, refused his assent to this proposal, and the band accordingly struck up an appropriate air at each incident Odo dismissed from Rochester Castle. As Odo left the Castle the " Rogue's March" resounded from tower to tower and battlement to battlement, while the people sang snatches of CHAP. Jl ] RALPH LE FLAMJBARD. 69 popular airs, among which " ger, Hubert determined that no one else should enjoy a position which he himself was unable to profit by. This was an " artful dodge " of the cunning Hubert, to get the game into his own hands, for Henry on being pronounced " of age," having received a surrender of various castles and fortified places from the barons, gave back those which he had no occa- sion for to the wily minister. The barons, finding themselves bam- boozled, became exceedingly angry with the king and Hubert, but the latter went on, alternately hanging and excommunicating, until he had settled the obstreperous and quelled the turbulent. The year 1225 must ever be remarkable for the refusal of Parliament — a name that was then coming into use — to grant supplies without asking any questions. This had formerly been the usual practice, but when Hubert coolly proposed a grant of a fifteenth of all the movable property in the kingdom for the use of the king, the Parliament said it was all very well, but if the money was given there ought to be some- thing to show for it. Henry accordingly gave another ratification of Magna Charta, which was a good deal like the old superfluous process of putting butter upon bacon, for he had already twice ratified that im- portant document. In those days, however, there was no objection to giving the lily an extra coat of paint, or treating the refined gold to an additional layer of gilding. In the year 1228, Henry had collected an army at Portsmouth to sail for France, but Hubert de Burgh, who seems to have held the place of First Lord of the Admiralty as well as his other oflices, had not provided a sufficient number of vessels. When the troops were about to embark it was found impossible to stow them away even with the closest packing. 118 COMIC EISTOE,i r OF ENGLAND. ("book in. Henry flew into a violent passion with Hubert, accusing him of pocket- ing the money he ought to have laid out in ships, and the king had drawn his sword, intending to run the minister through, when the Earl of Chester ran between them, exclaiming " Hold ! " with intense signi- The Earl of Chester interposing between Henry III. and Hubert de Burgh. ficance. This fine dramatic situation told exceedingly well ; for Hubert de Burgh got off, though the king did not, and the expedition was post- poned until the year following. He passed over into Normandy, a.d. 1229, but he preferred feasting to fighting, and the only advance he made was by continually running away, which kept him constantly ahead of the enemy. He, however, threw all the blame of the failure on Hubert, whose shoulders must have been tolerably broad to have borne all that his master chose to cast on to them. The king returned to England very much out of pocket and com- pletely out of spirits. He applied to his old paymaster, the Parliament, but his conduct had excited so much disgust, that instead of money, or as it was then called, blunt, he got a blunt refusal. His Majesty, whose tone had hitherto been that of command, now assumed the humble air of the mendicant, and he adopted the degrading clap-trap of his being "a real case of distress," in order to obtain a subsidy. He declared his inability to pay his way, but as his way was never to pay at all, this argument availed him very little. He was, however, getting rapidly shorter and shorter every day, when fearing that he would perhaps com- CHAP. I.] DISGRACE AND FALL OF DE BURGH 119 promise the dignity of the crown by pawning it, or sell the regalia for the purpose of regaling himself, the Parliament agreed to let him have a trifle for current expenses. This consisted of three marks for every fief held immediately of the Crown,* which was little enough to give him an excuse for not paying his debts, and yet sufficient to allow him to rush into fresh extravagancies. In the year 1232, Henry, having of course spent every shilling of this small supply, renewed his application to Parliament, alleging that he was desirous of discharging the liabilities incurred in his expedition to France, but the barons firmly, and not very respectfully, refused any further pecuniary assistance. They urged in effect, that they had already been doubly robbed of their ser- vices and their cash, for they had never been paid for the one, and had been almost drained of the other. The nobles, who had derived nearly all they possessed from plunder, could not see the justice of the prin- ciple, that as they had done to others they deserved to be done, and they peremptorily refused to comply with the attempted exactions of the sovereign. Having failed in his attack on the pockets of his Parliament, Henry looked with an envious eye on the comfortably lined coffers of his minis- ter. Hubert de Burgh, though he enjoyed the reputation of a trusty servant, had taken care to feather his nest, nor did the feathers lie very heavily on his conscience, for in those days the greatest weight that could be placed upon the mind was always portable. The tonnage of Hubert's conscience appears to have been considerable, for though he carried a good cargo of peculation he seems never to have evinced any disposition to sink under his burden. Henry became jealous of the good fortune of his minister, and resolved, for the purpose of getting his savings, to effect his ruin. Presuming Hubert to have been a dishonest man, and granting that there is policy in the recommendation to " set a thief to catch a thief," the king could not have done better than to send for Des Roches, the Bishop of Winchester, to assist in cleaning out the favourite. Poor de Burgh was in the first instance charged with magic and enchantment ; which may be considered equivalent to an impeachment of the minister of the present day for phantasmagoria and thimble-rig. In these enlightened times we cannot conceive the Premier being sent to the Tower on a suspicion of jack-a-lantem and blind hookey, though it was for offences of this class that Hubert was at first arraigned on the prosecution of his sovereign. These frivolous charges having fallen to the ground, the king called upon him for an account of all the money that had passed through his hands ; when the minister having kept no books and being wholly without vouchers, cut a very pretty figure. As he had been in the habit of cutting figures all through his career, this result was not to be wondered at. He, however, rummaged among his papers and found an old patent, given him by John, absolving him from the necessity of rendering any account, but his enemies replied, that this was only a receipt in full up to the time of Henry's accession. *Supiu'3 Misloire d'Angletcrre, torn. ii. pa^e 386 of the second edition. 120 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. Hubert finding he oould not get out of the scrape, determined, if possible,, to get out of che country ; but he proceeded no further on the road than Merton, where he turned in to the Priory. The king at first determined to have him out, dead or alive, and a mob of upwards of twenty thousand people, says Rapin,* were about to start with the Mayor of London to take the ex-minister into custody How such a crowd was got together in those days out of the mere superfluous idlers of the city, is not known, and we are equally in the dark how it happened that this mob conti- nued doing nothing, while the king listened to remonstrances from various quarters against the violence of his measures. London mobs must have been rather more tractable in the thirteenth than in the nineteenth century, for the twenty thousand people dis- persed when it was understood, after considerable negotiation, that their services would not be required. Indeed, according to a more recent historian,! they had actually started when a king's messenger was- despatched to call them back again. Hubert, who had found the priory at Merton exceedingly slow,, started off to St. Edmonds Bury to see his wife, who resided there. He had got as far as Brentwood, and had gone to bed, when he was roused by a loud knocking at the door, which caused him to put his head out of the window, and inquire, who or what was wanted. " Is there a person of the name of Hubert de Burgh stopping here '? " exclaimed the captain of the troop ; but the wily minister, for the sake of gaining time, pretended to misunderstand the question. " Hubert de What ? " he exclaimed, as he slipped on a portion of his dress ; but the soldier repeated the name with a tremendous emphasis on the syllable Burgh, which caused a shudder in the frame of Hubert. He, however, had the presence of mind to direct them to the second door round the corner. Having got them away from the front of the cottage by this manoeuvre, he ran down stairs into the street, and made his way to the chapel. Here he was seized by his pursuers, who placed. him on a horse, and tied his feet together under the animal's stomach. Hubert must have had legs of a most extraordinary length, or the horse must have been a very genteel figure to have permitted this, arrangement, which we find recorded in all the histories. It is possible that the brute upon which De Burgh was secured may have been a donkey, in which case the legs of the ex-favourite might have been long enough to admit of their being tied in a double knot — and perhaps even in a bow — under the animal's stomach. In this uncomfortable position he was trotted off to the Tower ; but the clergy being incensed at the violation of sanctuary, Hubert was re-mounted in the same style, and trotted back again. He was placed in the church as before, but all communication with it was cut off, a trench dug round it, and Hubert was left without any food but that which is always so plentiful under similar circumstances — namely, food for reflection. * Tom ii. page 391. *T Macfarlane's Cabinet History of England, vol. iii. page 229. CHAP I.J ASSASSINATION OF PEMBROKE J 21 After " chewing the hitter cud " until there was nothing left to masticate, he intimated from the steeple his desire to surrender. Ha had remained forty days shut up without food, fire, or any other clothing but the wrapper in which he had made his escape from his lodgings at Brentwood. The once burly De Burgh had, of course, become dread- fully thin, and the thread of existence seemed to be inclosed in a mere thread-paper. In this state he was taken to the Tower ; but he was soon released to take his trial before his peers, who would have con- demned him to death, but the king, looking on the minister as a golden goose, merely seized the accumulated eggs, and sent him to prison at the Castle of Devizes, until some other means were devised of getting hold of the remainder of his property. Hubert had scarcely been in prison a year, when he took advantage of a dark night to drop himself over one of the battlements. He however found that one good drop deserved another, for he had fallen into a ditch containing a good drop of water, in which he remained absorbed for several seconds. Having crawled out, he commenced wringing his hands and his clothes, but feeling there was no time to be lost, he made his way to a country church, whither he was traced by the drippings from his garments, which had left a mark something like that of a water-cart, along the path he had taken. Though captured by one party, he was set at liberty by another, with whom the king had become very unpopular, and Hubert was carried off to Wales, where a sect of discontents who, had they lived in these days, would have been called the Welsh Wings, had long been gathering. Hubert in about a year and a half, obtained a return of part of his estates, and was even restored to his honours ; but the king still kept him as a sort of nest- egg to plunder as occasion required. Hubert finally compromised the claims of the sovereign by surrendering four castles, in which Hollinshed is disposed to believe that Jack Straw's and the Elephant could not have been included. The Bishop of Winchester, or as he is termed in history, the Poictevin bishop, succeeded to power on the downfal of Hubert, and Des Roches soon filled the Court with foreign adventurers. Two of a trade never agree ; and the nobility who had originally been foreign adventurers themselves, objected to the importation of any more scamps from abroad, on the principle, perhaps, that England had got plenty of that sort already. The Poictevin bishop was particularly hostile to the son of the late regent, the young earl of Pembroke, who inherited some of his father's virtues, and what was far more interesting to old Des Boches, the whole of his father's property. Young P. was in Ireland,, where he had large estates, which the Poictevin bishop desired the governors of that country to confiscate. He promised them a slice, and the governors being — as Bapin has it — avides d'un si bon morceau — (ravenous for such a tit-bit) determined on getting hold of it. Treachery was accordingly resorted to, and Pembroke was basely stabbed in the back while sitting unsuspectingly at his own Pembroke table. This was 122 COMIC HISTOKI OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. more than the barons could bear ; and they told Henry very plainly, through Edmund, the new archbishop of Canterbury, that if Des Roches was not dismissed, the sovereign himself would be sent forthwith about his business. The Poictevin was ordered off to Winchester, with directions to limit his views to his own see ; and the patriotic Canterbury, who had of course only been anxious for the good of his country, obtained the power from which his predecessor had been cleverly ousted. The Bishop of Winchester was soon afterwards called to Rome by the Pope, who pretended to require his advice, but really had an eye to his money. Des Roches imagined that he was invited for protection, but he was in fact wanted for pillage. The Poicteviu was glad to escape from English surveillance, and was quite content to eat his mutton under the pope's eye, though he was hardly prepared for the process of picking to which he was subjected. The predecessor of Urban* was, however, all urbanity, and thus made some amends to Des Roches, who, like the majority of mankind, found victimisation a comparatively painless operation when performed by the gentle or light-fingered hands of an accomplished swindler. In the year 1236, Henry married Eleanor of Provence, with immense pomp and another coronation — a ceremony the frequent repetition of which in former times was a proof of the uncertainty of regal power, for the crown could not be veiy firm that so often required re-soldering. The king's marriage formed, perhaps, a reasonable excuse for placing an extra hod of cement between the monarch's poll and the hollow diadem The marriage festivities were followed by the summoning of a Parlia- ment at Merton, where Henry passed a series of statutes that became famous under the name of the Statutes of Merton ; and where he also pocketed, in the shape of subsidies, a considerable sum of money. Eleanor, the new queen, brought with her to England a quantity of needy and seedy foreigners, most of whom were immediately promoted. One of her uncles, "named Boniface," says Mathew Paris, "from his extraordinary quantity of cheek," was raised to the see of Canterbury. She invited over from Provence a quantity of demoiselles a marier, whom she got off by palming them upon rich young nobles, of whom her husband held the wardship. The court was turned into a kind of matri monial bazaar, where the wealthy scions of English aristocracy were hooked by the portionless but sometimes pretty spinsters of Provence. Nor was this all, for Isabella, the queen mother, sent over her four boys, Guy, William, Geoffrey, and Aymer, her sons, by the Count de la Marche, to be provided for. England was in fact regarded as an enor- mous common, upon which any foreign goose or jackass might be turned out to grass, provided he was patronised by a member of the reigning family. Henry, who was the victim of his poor relations, soon found himself short of cash, and he was obliged to get money in driblets, from * According to some authorities Celestine Tras pope at this period, and Urban did not reach the papal dignity till some time afterwards. CHAP. I.] SUMPTUARY PROCEEDINGS WITH THE BARONS. 1*S the Parliament, who never allowed him much at a time, and always exacted conditions which were invariably broken as soon as the cash was granted. Marriage of his most Gracious Majesty Henry HI. and Eleanor of Provence. Henry had been married about a year, when he had the coolness to ask the nation for the expenses of his wedding. The Barons declared that they had never been consulted about the match, and that the king up to the last hour of his remaining a single man had acted with great duplicity Finding it useless to command, he resorted to the old plan of humbug, and fell back upon his old friend Magna Charta, which he confirmed once more, for about the fifth or sixth time, and of course got the money he required. This great Bill of Rights was to him a sort of stereotyped bill of exchange, upon which he could always raise a sum of money by going through the formality of a fresh acceptance. The history of this reign for the next few years would furnish fitter materials for the accountant than the historian, and Henry's career would be better told in a balance-sheet than in the form of narrative Had his schedule been regularly filed it would have disdosed a series of insolvencies, from which he was only relieved by taking the benefit of some act of generosity and credulity on the part of his Parliament. At one moment he was so fearfully hard up that he was advised to sell all 124 comic history of England. [book ur. his plate and jewels.* "Who will buy them?" he exclaimed; — "though," he added, glancing at his four awkward half brothers, " if any one would give me anything for that set of spoons, I should be glad to take the offer." He was told that the citizens of London would pur- chase plate to any amount, at which he burst into violent invectives against " the clowns," as he termed them, probably on account of the presumed capacity of their breeches pockets. He made every effort to annoy the citizens, and showed his appreciation of their superfluous cash by helping himself to ten thousand pounds of it by open violence. In the year 1253, Henry was once more in a fix, and again the Par- liament had the folly to promise him a supply if he would go through another confirmation of Magna Charta. On the 3rd of May he attended a general meeting of the nobility at Westminster Hall, where he found the ecclesiastical dignitaries holding each a burning taper in his hand, intending probably that the melting wax should make a deep impression on the sovereign. Some are of opinion that this process was illustrative of the necessity sometimes said to exist for holding a candle to a certain individual. Henry took the usual quantity of oaths, and the priests dashed to the ground their tapers, which went out in smoke, and were so far typical of the lung's promises. On receiving the money he went to Guienne, from which he soon came back — as a popular vocalist used to say by way of cue to his song — " without sixpence in his pocket, just like — Love among the roses." The Pope now brought in a heavy bill of £100,000 for money lent, of which Henry declared he had never enjoyed the benefit. The Pope merely observed, that he was clearing his books and must have the matter settled. The king turned upon the clergy, upon whom he drew bills, one of which was addressed to the Bishop of Worcester, who de- clared they might take his mitre in execution for the amount, and the Bishop of Gloucester said they might serve his the same ; but if they did he would wear a helmet. Richard, the king's brother, who was very wealthy, hearing that the German empire was in the market for sale, made a bold bid for it. There was another competitor for the lot in the person of Alphonso, king of Castile, but Richard put down £700,000 and was declared the purchaser. This liberality was of course at the expense of poor England, which was so completely drained of cash that when Heniy met his Parliament on the 2nd of May, 1258, he found the barons in full armour, rattling their swords, as much as to say, that these must furnish a substitute for the precious metals. Henry was alarmed at the menacing aspect of the assembly, but 'one of his foreign half-brothers began vapouring, in a mixed patois of bad French, to the bent down, but not yet broken, English. The king himself resorted to his old trick of promising, and pledged his word once more with his usual success, though it was already pawned over and over again for a hundred times its value. The barons, however, were still ready to take it in ; though they had got by them already an * Mathew Paris. Mat. West. Chron. Dunel. CHAP. I.] SALE OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE. 125 enormous stock of similar articles, all unredeemed, and daily losing their interest. The leader of the country party was at this time Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, a Frenchman, who had married Eleanor, the king's sister. He had quarrelled and made it up with Henry once or twice, and the following conversation is recorded to have taken place, in 1252, between the earl and his sovereign : — " You are a traitor," said the king. " You are a liar 2 " replied the courtier. After this brief and decisive dialogue Leicester went to France, but his royal brother-in-law soon invited him back again. On the 11th of June, 1258, there met, at Oxford, an assembly to which the royalists gave the name of the Mad Parliament. There was a good deal of method in the madness of the members, for they appointed twenty-four barons and bishops as a committee of government. There was some insanity in the proposition to hold three sessions in a year, but it is doubtful whether Dr. Winslow, or any other eminent physician would have found, in the statutes passed at the time, sufficient to form the foundation of a statute of lunacy. Henry seems to have been most in want of Dr. Winslow's care, for his majesty was exceedingly mad at the decisive measures of the barons, and would have been glad of an asylum where he would have been safe from their influence. The Oxford parliament, which was certainly an odd compound of good and bad, or light and dark — the regular Oxford mixture — passed some measures of a very miscellaneous character. The annual election of a new sheriff, and the sending to Parliament of four knights, chosen by the freeholders in each county, were judicious steps; but in some other respects the barons abused their power, and got a good deal of abuse themselves in consequence. The queen's relations and the king's half-brothers were literally scared out of the kingdom but only to make way for the advancement of the friends and relatives of the Mad Parliament. Soon after it met, Richard, who had emptied his pockets in Germany, wanted to come to England to replenish them. He was met at St. Omer by a messenger, stating that there would be no admittance unless he complied with the new regulations made by the barons. To this he reluctantly consented, and he joined his brother the king, with the full intention of organising an opposition, which he found already com- menced by the Earl of Gloucester, who had grown jealous of Leicester's influence. Even at that early period the struggles between the " Ins and the Outs," which form the chief business of political life, had already commenced, and there was the same sort of shuffling from side to side, and principle to principle, which the observer of statesmanship at the present day cannot fail to recognise. There was among all parties a vast protestation of regard for Magna Charta, which served the same purpose then as has since been answered by the British Constitution and the British lion. Henry, seeing with delight the divisions of the barons, got a bull from the pope to serve as 126 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. a piece of Indian-rubber for his conscience, by rubbing out all the oaths he had taken at Oxford. On the 2nd of February, 1261, he announced his intention of gov- erning without the aid of the Committee, and immediately went to the Tower, of which he took possession. He then dropped in at the Mint, where he emptied every till, and even waited, according to some, while a shilling, which was in the course of manufacture, got cool in the crucible. The Mint authorities were of course exceedingly obsequious, and may probably have offered to send home a batch of new pennies that were not quite done, if his majesty desired it. " No thank you," would have been Henry's reply, "I '11 take what you 've got; " and so he did, for off he marched with the whole of it. The arbitrary conduct of the barons had somewhat disgusted the people, many of whom had discovered that one tyrant was not quite so bad as four-and-twenty. London declared for Henry, and Leicester ran away ; but the vacillating cockneys soon declared for Leicester, which brought him back again. The king, who had been at such pains to secure the Tower, had the mortification to find it secured him, for he was safely locked up in it. Prince Edward, his son, flew to Windsor Castle, and the queen, his mother, was going down to the stairs at London Bridge to take a boat to follow him. She had shouted "Hi ! " to the Jack-in-the-water, and was stepping into a wherry, when she was recognised by the mob, who called after her as a witch, and pelted her with mud and missiles. The Lord Mayor, who happened to be passing, gallantly offered her his arm, walked with her to St. Paul's, and left her in the care of the door-keeper. This anecdote is circumstantially given by all the chroniclers, among whom we need only mention Wykes West, and Trivet — the correctness of the last being so remarkable that M right as a Trivet " is to this day a proverb. After a prodigious quan- tity of quarrelling between Henry and Son on one part, and Leicester and Co. on the other, the matters in dispute were referred to the arbitra- tion of the French king, Louis the Ninth, who made an award in favour of Henry, which the barons of course refused to abide by. A civil war broke out with great fury, in which the Jews were victimised by both parties, though opposed to neither. They were slaughtered by the barons for being attached to the king, and were also slaughtered by the king's party for being attached to the barons. If they were attached to either it certainly was ofte of the most unfortunate attachments we ever heard of, and the strength of the attachment must have been great which could have survived such horrible treatment. On the 14th of May, 1264, the king's party and that of Leicester met in battle. His majesty was at Lewes, in a hollow, where he thought himself deep enough to have got into a position of safety. The ear! was upon the Downs, which Wykes calls a " downy move," for the spot was raised, and commanded a view of the movements of the sovereign. Leicester commenced the attack, which soon became general. Prince Edward charged the London militia, who could have charged pretty CHAP. 1.] CIVIL WARS IN ENGLAND. 127 well in return had they been behind their counters ; but they had no idea of selling their lives at any price. They accordingly fled in all directions, and the prince paid them off all he owed them for the man- ner in which they had served his mother. Leicester concentrated his force upon the king, to whom he gave personally a sound thrashing. Having cudgelled the monarch to his heart's content, he took him into custody. Prince Edward was also seized, but the latter escaped on the Thursday in Whitsun week, 1265, and raised a powerful force, with which he marched to Evesham against his father's enemies Leicester had formed a camp near Kenilworth, and having got the king still in his possession, he encased the poor old man in armour, put him on a horse, and turned him into the field on the morning of the battle. The veteran was soon dismounted, and was on the point of being killed, when he roared out " Hollo ! stop ! I am Henry of Win- chester ! " His son recognising his voice, seized him and literally bundled him into a place of safety. "What do you do here?" muttered Edward, somewhat annoyed, but the aged Henry could not explain a circumstance which might have played old Harry with the cause of the royalists. Leicester's horse fell under him, but the earl bounding to his feet, continued to fight, until finding the matter getting serious, he paused to inquire whether the royalists gave quarter. " There is no quarter for traitors," was the only reply he received, followed by a poke in the shape of a home-thrust from the sword of one of the enemy. Deprived of their leader, Leicester's followers had nothing to follow, and the royalists obtained a victory. The king was now restored to power, but there were still a few rebels in the forest of Hampshire, one of whom, named Adam Gourdon, came to a personal contest with Prince Edward, who got him down, placed his foot on his chest, and generously restored him to liberty. Gourdon was introduced to the queen the same night as a sort of prize rebel, and became a faithful adherent to the royal family. Henry was now left at home all by himself, his son Edward having gone to Palestine. The old man often wrote to request the Prince to return, for his majesty found himself unequal to the bother of ruling a people still disposed to be occasionally turbulent. A sedition had broken out at Norwich, which Henry had gone to quell, and he was on his way back to London, when he was laid up at St. Edmond's Bury by indis- position. Being considered a slight illness, it was at first slighted, but the royal patient became worse, and he died on the 16th of November, 1272, at the respectable age of sixty-eight, according to one historian,* sixty-four according to a second,! and sixty-six according to a third.* The last seems to be the nearest to the truth, for Henry had been a king about fifty-six years, and he was about ten when he came to the throne. He was buried at Westminster Abbey, where for nothing on Sundays and for twopence on week days, posterity may see his tomb. * Macfarlane. *f* Hume. J Rapin. 128 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. The character of Henry III. was an odd compound, a species of physiological grog, a mixture of generous spirit and weak water, the latter predominating over the former in a very considerable degree. He was exceedingly fond of money, of which he extracted such enormous quantities from his subjects, that if the heart and the pocket were synonymous, as they have sometimes been called, Henry would have had the fullest possession of the hearts of his people. His manner must have been rather persuasive ; for if the Parliament refused a subsidy at first, they were always talked over by his majesty, and made to relax their purse-strings before the sitting closed. Some gratitude may perhaps be due to him on account of his patronage of literature, for he started the practice of keeping a poet, in an age when poets found considerable difficulty in keeping themselves. The bard alluded to was one Master Henry, who received on one occasion a hundred shillings, * and was subsequently " ordered ten pounds ; " but, considering the unpunctuality of the king in money matters, it is doubtful whether the order for ten pounds was ever honoured. The persecution of the Jews was among the most remarkable features of the career of the king, who used to demand enormous sums of them, and threatened to hang them if they refused compliance. In this he only followed the example of his father, John, who, it is said, demanded ten thousand marks of an unfortunate Jew, one of whose teeth was pulled out every day, until he paid the money. It is stated by Matthew Parisf that seven were extracted before the cash was forthcoming. This was undoubtedly the fact, but it is not generally known, that, with the cunning of his race, the Jew con- trived to get some advantage out of the treatment to which he was subjected. It is said that he exclaimed, after the last operation had been performed, " They don't know it, but them teeth was all decayed. There's not ashound von among the lot, so I 've done 'em nicely; " and with this piece of consolation, he paid the money. To Henry's reign has also been attributed the origin of the custom of sending deputies to Parliament to represent the commons, a practice that we find from looking over the list of the lower house, is liable to be in some cases greatly abused. "We may in conclusion, say of Henry III. that, " take him for all in all," as the poet says, " we shall never " — that is to say, we hope we shall never — " look upon his like again." * Mad ox, page 268. f Page 1 60. chap, n.] ACCESSION OF EDWARD I. 120 CHAPTER THE SECOND- EDWARD THE FIRST, SURNAMED LOXGSHANKS. dward was the first king who came to the throne like a gentleman, with- out any of that inde- cent clutching of the crown and sacking of the treasury which had been practised by al- most every one of his predecessors. Perhaps his absence from Eng- land was the chief cause of this forbear ance ; but it is at all events refreshing to meet with a sovereign whose accession was not marked by a bur- glary upon the premises where the public trea- sure happened to be deposited. On the 20th of No- vember, 1 2 7 2 , four day s after his father's death, Edward was proclaimed king by the barons at the New Temple. It was probably under the shade of the old fig-tree in Fig-Tree Court, that they read his titles of King of England, Lord of Ireland, and Duke of Aquitaine. Edward had been engaged in the crusades, as one of those fighting missionaries who conveyed " sermons in stones " through the medium of slings, and knocked unbelief literally upon the head with the Christian battle-axe. One day he nearly lost his life, by the hands of an assassin, disguised as a postman from the Emir of Jaffa, who, feigning a wish to be converted, had opened a cor- respondence with Edward. The English prince was lying in his robe-de-chambre on a couch* when the usual salaam — the emirs postman's knock — was made at the door of his apartment. The messenger had brought a letter, of which Edward had scarcely broken the wax, when his doom was nearly sealed by a blow from a dagger, hidden in the postman's sleeve. The prince parried the attack with his arms, which were his only weapons, until, wresting the dirk from his assailant's hands, he used it to put 130 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK HI, a period to the existence of the would-be murderer, by a process of punc- tuation which no grammarian has attempted to describe. Edward's wound was not deep, but his enemies had been deep enough to introduce some venom into it When he heard the fact he gave himself up to despair, for he considered that his existence was irretriev- ably poisoned. A romantic story is told of Queen Eleanor having sucked the poison from her husband's arm, but it is quite certain that such succour was never afforded him, and the anecdote is therefore not worth the straw that the operation would have required. The prince owed his recovery to the prompt attendance of an English surgeon, who happened to be settled at Acre, and to some drugs supplied by the Grand Master of the Templars, who opened his heart and his chest — of medicine — for the relief of the suffering Edward. There is ^o doubt that Eleanor had sufficient affection for her husband, to have prompted her to draw the poison into her mouth had it ever entered her head ; but the fact appears to be that the remedy w%s never thought of until a century after the infliction of the wound, which was a little too late to be of service to the patient, though nothing is ever too late to be made use of by the chroniclers. The notion was too good to be rejected by these very credulous gentlemen, who are easily induced to convert might have been, into has been, when the latter course is better adapted for exciting an agreeable interest. Feeling tolerably secure of the throne, he was in no hurry to take possession, but enjoyed an agreeable tour before returning to England. He paid a visit to the new pope, his old friend Theobald, though there was some difficulty in getting into Theobald's road, for his Holiness had left Rome for Civita Vecchia. Edward spent some time in Italy, for among the many irons he had in the fire were two or three Italian irons, which he desired to look after before arriving in his own country. He next visited Paris, and instead of coming straight home with the diligence that might have been expected, he turned back to Guienne, where he was invited by the Count of Chalons to a tournament. " 'Twas in the merry month of May," in the year twelve hundred and seventy-four, "When bees from flower to flower did hum," exactly as they do in the present day, that the parties met lance to lance, each attended by a host of champions. Edward brought one thousand with him, but the Count of Chalons came with two thousand, an incident which at once raised a suspicion that the chivalrous knight intended foul play towards his royal antagonist. A tournament in sport soon became a battle in earnest, and the count rushed upon ' Edward, grasping him by the neck to embrace the opportunity of unhorsing him. Nothing, however, could make him resign his seat, and the Count of Chalons was soon licking the dust, or rather, the saw-dust spread over the arena in which the tournament was given. Edward was so angry at the trick which had been played, that he hit his antagonist several times while down, and kept hammering at the armour of the count like a smith at an anvil. The Count of Chalons roared out lustily for mercy, but Edward chap, ii.] edwajid's arrival in England and coronation. 181 refusing to grant it, continued to "give it him" in another sense for several minutes. At length the count offered to surrender his sword, Edward and the Count of Chalons which was ignominiously rejected by the English king, who called up a common foot soldier to take away the dishonoured weapon It was not till the year 1274, that Edward thought of returning to England, and he sent over to order his coronation dinner on a scale that would have done honour to a mayoral banquet The bill of fare included so many heads of cattle, that the shortest way to get through the cooking would have been to light a fire under Leadenhall Market, and roast the whole of the contents by a single operation. If such a feast had really taken place, it was enough to put the times out of joint for a twelvemonth afterwards. On the 2nd of August, 1274, Edward arrived at Dover, and on the 19th of the same month he was crowned at Westminster Abbey, with his wife, Eleanor. This was the wonderful woman who was erroneously alleged to have sucked the poison from her husband's arm, a feat that has had no parallel in modern times, if we except the individual who undertook to swallow liquid lead and arsenic before a generous British public, and who, by surviving the operation, gave great offence to a portion of the enlightened audience. Edward, on coming to England, found plenty of loyalty, but very little cash ; and though he had no objection to reign in the hearts of his people, he felt the necessity of making himself also master of their pockets A crown without money would have been a mere tin k2 132 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGTAND. [UOOK III, kettle, tied to the head, instead of the tail, of the unlucky dog who- might be compelled to wear it. The king turned his attention to the- unfortunate Jews, who seemed to he tolerated in England as human bees, employed in collecting the sweets of wealth only for the purpose of having it taken away from them. Edward literally emptied them out of the kingdom, for the purpose of plundering their hives more- effectually. He allowed some of them their travelling expenses out of England, but even this was more than they required in many cases, for the inhabitants of the ports saved the Jews the cost of their journey by most inhumanly drowning them. Edward, however unjust himself, disliked injustice in others ; and in- deed, with the common jealousy of dealers on a very large scale, he seemed to desire a monopoly of all the robbery and oppression practised within his own dominions. In the year 1289, the judicial bench was disgraced by a set of extortioners whose existence we can scarcely comprehend in the present age, when a corrupt judge would be as difficult to find as the philosophers stone, or as that desirable but impossible boon to the briefless barrister, perpetual motion. The Chief Justice of the Kings Bench had actually encouraged his own servants to commit murder, for the sake of the fees that would accrue upon the trial, and, of course, the acquittal of the culprits. The Chief Baron of the Ex- chequer had kept all the money paid into court upon every action that had been tried, and was even discovered going disgraceful snacks with the usher in illegal charges upon suitors. As to the puisnes, they had been detected in selling their judgments in banco at so much a folio, and even hiring pickpockets to rob the leading counsel as they went out of court with their fees in their pockets. The Chancellor had spent the money of nearly all his wards, and would never fix a day for a decree until he was positively forced, when he would pronounce a decision unintelligible to all parties These disgraceful proceedings were made a pretext by the king for taking eighty thousand marks from the judges, his majesty observing, that if he took from them all the marks they possessed, he could not remove the stains from their characters. This shallow sophism, though it might have satisfied the king himself, was not consolatory to the judges, nor was it calculated to reimburse the people for the losses sustained by judicial delinquency It is said that the first clock placed opposite the gate of Westminster Hall was purchased with a fine of 800 marks upon the Chief Justice of the Kings Bench, and the popular saying "that's your time of day" is supposed to have arisen from a sarcasm that used to be addressed by the crowd outside to the judicial delinquent. As a measure of further extortion, Edward became suddenly very particular as to the titles by which the nobles held their estates, and sent round commissioners to demand the production of the deeds by which the barons acquired their property. Earl de Warenne was called upon, among the rest, and desired that the commissioners might be politely shown in to him. " So, gentlemen," he mildly observed. .CHAP. II ] INVASION OF WALES. IBS " you wish to see the title by which I hold my property." "Exactly so," •was the reply, which was followed by a common-place expression of ■sorrow at being obliged to trouble him. " It is no trouble in the least," rejoined Earl de Warenne, drawing a tremendous sword, which he bran- dished before the eyes of the commissioners, and begged their close jjjhilLil Ml Earl de Warenne producing his title to the Commissioners. inspection of the title by which his ancestors had acquired his posses- sions. " You see, gentlemen," he continued, " there is no flaw to be detected, and if after looking at my title you want a specimen of my deeds, I can very speedily give you the satisfaction you require " The historian need scarcely add that the commissioners backed out, with an observation, " that a mere abstract of the title — a drawing of the sword out of its scabbard — was all that could possibly be required." Edward having other fish to fry, had hitherto neglected Wales, but that land of mountains was a scene of frequent risings, which he now de- termined to " put down" with promptitude and vigour. Llewellyn, the Prince of North Wales, was summoned to London to do homage as a tributary to the English crown, but his ambition having been fired by some prophecies of the famous Merlin, the fiery Welshman sent word that he would not come so far to see Edward, which was equivalent to a declaration that he would see him further The English king having 134 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IU. resolved to punish so much insolence, about Easter 1277, crossed the Dee — not the sea, as some historians have alleged — -with a large army and blocked poor Llewellyn up in his own principality. His brother David having been made an English baron, and married to the daugh- ter of an English earl, was at first devoted to the English, but his native breezes fanned the still dormant flame of patriotism, and he joined his brother in resisting the foreign enemy. Edward occupied Anglesey, but in crossing over to the main land he found himself in the most dreadful straits at the Menai He lost several hundred men, and was obliged to fly for protection to one of his castles, but a king in those •lays could make every Englishman's house his castle, by unceremo- niously walking into it. Llewellyn was somewhat emboldened by par- tial success, and foolishly advanced to the valley of the Wye, without any one knowing wherefore. Roger, the savage Earl of Mortimer, was immediately down upon him, and sacrificed hint before he had time even to put on his armour, in which he was only half encased when he was cruelly set upon by the enemy. He had buckled on his greaves, and was in the act of putting on his breast-plate over his head when he was decapitated with the usual disregard which was at that time continually shown to the heads of families. His brother David kept cutting about the country with his sword in his hand for at least six months, until he was basely betrayed into the hands of the English. He was condemned to die the death of traitors, which included a series of barbarities too revolting to mention. This sentence, which formed a precedent in the punishment of high treason for many ages, is one of the most disgraceful facts of our history. It casts a stigma upon every parliament and every generation of the people in whose time this fearful penalty either was or might have been inflicted. The leek of Wales was now entwined with the rose of England, and Edward endeavoured to propitiate his newly acquired subjects by becoming a resident in the conquered country His wife Eleanor gave birth to a son in the castle of Caernarvon, and he availed himself of the circumstance to introduce the infant as a native production, giving him the title of Prince of Wales, which has ever since been held by the eldest son of the English sovereign. After remaining about a year in Wales, Edward was enabled by the tranquillity of the kingdom to take a continental tour, in the course of which he was often appealed to as a mutual friend by sovereigns between whom there was any differ- ence. He acted as arbitrator in the celebrated cause of Anjou against Aragon ; but while settling the affairs of others, his own v. ere getting rather embarrassed, and he was compelled in the year _*!S9 to return to England. Upon reaching home he found that Scotland was in that state of weakness which offered an eligible opportunity to u royal plunderer. The King, Alexander III., had died, leaving a little grandchild of the name of Margaret, as his successor. This young lady was the daughter of Eric, King of Norway, who wrote over to Edward requesting he would CHAP. II.] CLAIMANTS FOE THE SCOTTISH CEOWN. 185 do what he could for her in case of her title being disputed. The English sovereign, with a cunning worthy of a certain French old gentle- '"^^^i'bra 1 ward introducing his Son as Prince of Wales, to his newly acquired Subjects. man whom we need not name, recommended a marriage with his son as the best mode of protecting the royal damsel. The preliminaries were all arranged, and Eric had agreed to forward the little 2\largaret, who was only eight years of age, by the first boat froin Norway to Britain. The child had been shipped and regularly invoiced., when she fell ill, and being put ashore at one of the Orkney Islands, she unfortunately died. On the death of the queen being made known, claimants to the Scottish crown stalled up in all directions, and it was necessary to find the heir by hunting among the descendants of David of Huntingdon. 1136 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK III. John Baliol was the grandson of David's eldest daughter, and John's grandmother therefore gave Baliol a right to the crown, which wa? disputed by Bruce and Hastings, the sons of the youngest daughters of Huntingdon senior, whose only son, Huntingdon junior, died without issue. An opening was thus left to the female branches, and the intro- duction of those charming elements of discord — the ladies — into the question of succession, created, of course, all the confusion that arose. Edward, having advanced to Norham, a small town on the English side of the Tweed, which, as every one knows, forms a land of Tweedish wrapper for Scotland, appointed a conference, which took place on the 10th of May, 1291, at which he distinctly stated that he intended regulating the succession to the Scotch throne. At this meeting Edward himself proposed the first resolution, which pledged the assembly to a recognition of the right of the English king not only to do what he liked with his own, but to do what he liked with Scotland also, which did not belong to him. One gentleman, in the body of the assembly, who remains anonymous to this day, ventured to suggest by way of amendment, that no answer could be made while the throne was vacant, and an adjournment until the next morning was agreed upon. No business was, however, done on the morrow, but a further postponement till the 2nd of June was eventually carried. When that day arrived the attendance was numerous and highly respectable, for on the plat- form we might have observed no less than eight competitors for the crown. Robert Bruce, who was there in excellent health and spirits, publicly declared his readiness to refer his claims to Edward's arbitra- tion, and all the other claimants did the same. On the next day, Baliol made his appearance and followed the example of the others, and it was agreed that one hundred and four commissioners should be appointed to inquire and report to Edward previous to his giving his final award. There is little doubt that this enormous number of commissioners could only have been intended to mystify the case, and to leave Edward at liberty to settle it his own way; a suspicion that is still further justified by his having reserved the right to add, without any limit or restriction, to the number of commissioners, and thus make " confusion worse con- founded " should occasion require. The wily Edward, pretending that it was necessary to the performance of his duty as arbitrator, got the kingdom, the castles, and other pro- perty surrendered into his hands on the 11th of June; though the Earl of Angus refused to give up Dundee and Forfar without an in- demnity, which he stoutly stuck up for, and eventually obtained. None of the clergy joined in this disgraceful concession but the Bishop of Sodor, who ought to have been the very first to effervesce. The king himself went to the principal towns in Scotland with the rolls of homage, which were allowed to lie for signature, and he sent attornies, empowered to take affidavits, into the various villages. At length, on the 3rd of August, the commissioners met for the despatch of business, and of course, came to no decision. In the year CETAP. II.] WILLIAM WALLACE-, j«S7 following they taclded the subject again, but it was found that the more they talked about it, the more they differed . Edward, by way of com- plicating the affair still further, summoned a Parliament to meet at Berwick on the 15th of October, 1292, at which Bruce and Baliol were fully heard, when the assembly laid down a general proposition that the lineal descendant of the eldest sister, however remote in degree, was preferable to the nearer in degree, if descended from a j-ounger sister. This decision left every thing undecided, and accordingly Edward gave judgment that Baliol should be King of Scotland, with the simple proviso that Edward should be King of Baliol. The whole affair having been " a sell " got up between the English sovereign and the Scottish claimant, there was no demur on the part of the latter, who swore fealty, as he would have sworn that black was white, had such been the purport of the oath that his master required. Edward took every opportunity of bullying Baliol, and even ordered him to come all the way to Westminster to defend an action brought against him for money due from Alexander III., his great grandfather. He was also served with process in the paltry suit of self ats Macduff; and other writs, to which he was forced to appear in person, w r ere con- tinually served upon him. For the smallest pecuniary claim the Scotch king was compelled to come to England to plead, until his patience at last gave way, and he turned refractory. Edward was now at war with Philip of France, whom Baliol agreed to serve by harassing their mutual enemy. The Scotch king, who was at heart a humbug and a coward to the core, became exceedingly in- solent, from the belief that Edward was somewhat down, and that the proper time had arrived for hitting him. The English sovereign, who had heen harassed at first by the Scotch cur, soon brought him howling for mercy, which was accorded on condition of his resigning the kingly office, a proposition which Baliol basely submitted to. Edward made a triumphal progress through Scotland, and taking a fancy to an old stone, upon which the kings had sat to be crowned at Scone, caused the very uncomfortable coronation chair to be removed to Westminster.* The people of Scotland had always considered this block to be the corner stone of their liberties, and its removal seemed to take away the only foundation that their hopes of regaining their independence were built upon. As long as it was in their country, they believed it w 7 ould bring them good fortune ; but they dreaded the reverse if the stone should be removed even so far as a stone's throw from the borders of Scotland. Edward having appointed the Earl de Warenne governor of the van- quished kingdom, and given away all the appointments that were vacant to creatures of his own, returned in triumph to England. In the year 1 297 William Wallace, commonly known as the hero of Scotland, made his first appearance on the stage of history as a supernumerary, carrying a banner, for we find him engaged in un- furling the standard of liberty. He was at first merely the captain * Hemiugford. 138 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fl300K III. -in the great drama in He was the second son of a small band of outlaws — a sort of first robber which he was soon to sustain a principal character of Sir William Wallace, of Ellers- lie, and had all the qualities of a melodramatic hero, as far at least as we are enabled to judge by a description of him written a hundred years after his death with that minuteness which the old chroniclers were so fond of adopting when they knew that no one had the power of contradicting them. The celebrated Bower, who continued the Scotichroni- con of Fordun, tells us that Wal- lace was " broad shouldered, big- boned, and proportionately cor- pulent," so that his shoulders were broad enough to bear the bur- den he undertook ; and his being corpulent gave him this advantage over his enemies, that if they had fifty thousand lives, he had un- doubtedly " stomach for them all." Mr. Tytler, who will perhaps excuse us for venturing onTytler's ground, informs us in his History of Scotland that " Wallace had an iron frame," so that we have the picture of the man at once before us For a quarrel with an English officer he had been banished from his home, and by living in fastnesses he acquired some of those loosenesses which are inseparable from a roving character. His followers comprised a few men of desperate fortunes and bad reputation, who had turned patriots, as gentlemen in difficulties generally do ; for it is a remarkable fact, that the men who endeavour to discharge a debt to their country are those who never think of discharging the debts which they owe to their creditors. Success, however, covers a multitude of sins, and Wallace with his little band of outlaws, having achieved one or two small triumphs, soon found out the fact that the world which sneers at the very noblest cause in its early struggles, will always be ready to join it in the moment of victory. Wallace having been fortunate in his efforts, soon had the co-operation of Sir William Douglas and all his vassals; just as Mr. Cobden and the Anti-Corn-Law League, after having been denounced as turbulent demagogues, and threatened with prosecu- tion, were assisted on the eve of the fulfilment of their object by the leaders of the opposition and the principal members of the Government. Portrait of William Wallace, from an old wood block. CHAP. II.] BATTLE OF FALKIRK. 139 Edward, who had been in Flanders during the commencement of the Scotch rebellion, now returned to England, and by way of propitiating his subjects, he summoned a Parliament, at which Magna Charta was again voluntarily confirmed. It is true he made a cunning effort to insert at the end of it the words " saving always the rights of our crown,"* which would have been almost equivalent to striking out all the other clauses of the document. The Parliament hotly opposed the crafty suggestion, which was accordingly withdrawn, and supplies for carrying on the war against the Scotch insurgents were readily granted. In the summer of 1298, Edward came in person to Scotland at the head of a large army. Wallace, instead of waiting for a battle, retired slowly before the forces of the English king, clearing off all the pro- visions on the way, and thus aiming a blow at the stomach of the enemy. The invaders advanced, but there was nothing to eat ; or as Mr. Tytler well expresses it, "they found an inhospitable desert" where — he might have added — they had occasion for a hospitable dinner. Wallace was now at Falkirk, from which he meditated an attack upon the king, but Edward, having been apprized of his intention, reflected that it was a game at which two could play, and he thought it as well to secure the first innings. The English king accordingly, rinding the ball at his foot, took it up immediately, and at once bowled out the Scottish hero. The battle of Falkirk was fought on the 22nd of July, 1298, and the Scotch loss is variously stated at ten, fifteen, and sixty thousand men. In ordinary matters it is sometimes safe to believe half that we hear, but it would be more judicious to limit one's trust to ten per cent, in the records of history. The Scotch war had of course been a very expensive business, and Edward had been sponging upon his subjects to an alarming extent during its continuance. In 1294 he had taken from the clergy half their incomes and nearly all their eatables. His purveyors first emptied their granaries, then robbed their farm-yards, and ultimately pillaged their pantries ; so that the king having already ransacked their pockets, the /* reverend fathers," as he insultingly termed them, were in a very pretty predicament. Their larders were laid waste, their safes were no longer safe, they could not preserve their jam, their corn was instantly sacked, and even their joints of meat, from the leg to the loin, were walked off or pur-loined by the order of the sovereign. The pope, who had been applied to for protection when they were being deprived of their cattle, sent over a bull, which proved of veiy little use, for he soon despatched a second, by which the first was recalled in all its most important provisions The trading classes were not so easily robbed, for when the long began to deal with them in his own peculiar fashion, he found them rather awkward customers. Some wool had been prepared for shipping by the London merchants, when the king's agents came wool gathering to the wharfs, and carried it off with a high hand for the use of the * Rapin, vol. iii. page 72, second edition, quarto, 1727. 14.0 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 6overeign. It is true they promised to pay, and ordered the owners to put it down to the bill ; but the traders determined that they could not do business in that manner. They were joined by some of the nobles, and among others by Hereford, the constable, and Norfolk, the marshal of England, who had a joint audience of his majesty, who threatened to hang them if they did not do his bidding. " I will neither do so, nor hang, sir king," was Norfolk's reply, in which Hereford acquiesced ; so that it was evident Edward could neither trample on the marshal, nor any longer overrun the constable. Thirty bannerets and fifteen hundred gen- tleman whom the king had dubbed knights joined the two nobles in their refusal to dub up,* and Edward was left almost alone. In this dilemma he appealed to the people by the old trick of an effective speech, inter- larded with those clap-traps which he knew so well how to employ. He caused a platform to be erected at the door of Westminster Hall, and appeared upon it, supported by his son Edward, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earl of Warwick. Like the schoolmaster who never administered a flogging without saying it hurt him a great deal more than the boy, the king told the people that it was more grievous to him to exact taxes from his dear people than it could be to them to bear the burden. "I am going," he exclaimed, "to expose myself to all the dangers of war for your sakes," and here he pulled out his pocket- handkerchief, behind which he winked at the Archbishop of Canterbury, who thrust his tongue into his cheek to show the prelate's relish for his master's hypocrisy. " If I return alive," continued the royal humbug, "I will make you amends for the past; but if I fall, here is my dear son (step this way, Ned), place him on the throne (hold your head up, stupid), and his gratitude (bow, you blockhead) will be the reward of your fidelity." Here he fairly swamped his face in tears, while the archbishop turned on a couple of fountains, which came gushing through his eyes, and the meeting was literally dissolved by the practice of this piece of crying injustice towards the people. Not only had he melted the hearts of th-f traders by this manoeuvre, but he drew streams of coin for the liquidation of his debts from their pockets. With the cash thus collected he stalled to join Guy, Earl of Flanders, against Philip le Bel, a very pretty sort of fellow, between whom and Edward there was a contest for the possession of the daughter of the Guy, the fair Philippa. The English king had, as early as 1294, contracted a marriage for the Prince of Wales with this young lady, who was only nine when the match was agreed upon. The happiness of the Flemish infant of course went for nothing in the game of craft and ambition which was being played by the intriguing French king, who had no other object but the extension of his personal influence. Though he may have been the first, he was certainly not the last Philip on the throne of France to force the inclinations of royal children on the subject of marriage for his own purposes. Edward IV. had expended a large amount of English money in pur- * Hem i ncr. CHA? II. J OPPOSITION TO THE TAXES. MI chasing the support of foreign mercenaries, who had no sooner spent their wages than they discontinued their services. The English king, finding he was likely to get the worst of it, concluded a truce in the spring of 1298, and left the unfortunate Guy to fight his own battles. Before Edward's return home, the London citizens refused to pay the taxes, on the ground of their not having been imposed by the consent of Parliament. Many a tax-gatherer lost his time and his temper in going from door to door, and was told, tauntingly, to collect himself. Tax Collecting in the reign of Edward the First. when he sought to collect money for the royal treasury. The king, who was at Ghent, tried the never-failing experiment of another confirmation of Magna Charta, with the addition of what he called — in a private letter to his son — " a little one in," namely, a confirmation of the Statute de Tallagio non concedendo, which was an act declaring that no talliage or aid should be levied without the consent of the Parliament. This was the first occasion upon which the nation was formally invested with the sole right of raising the supplies, but the investment, after all, was not particularly eligible, as the sole right of raising the supplies carries with it the sole duty of finding the money Not content with his con- 142 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND, [BOOK III. firmation of the charter, Edward, in May, 1298, was called upon to ratify, at York, the confirmation itself, and thus spread with additional butter the constitutional bacon. This he for some time evaded by a series of paltry excuses, in which "head-ache," " previous engagement," and " out of town," were pleaded from time to time, until the barons, by following him up, got him into a cut de sac from which there was no escaping. He consented at last to ratify, but, in the most dishonourable manner, he contrived while signing to smuggle in a clause at the end, which, by saving the right of the Crown, rendered the whole document a wretched nullity. This was a trick he was much addicted to, for he had tried the paltry subterfuge on a previous occasion. The barons, when they saw the addition, merely shook their heads, murmured some- thing about " a do," and returned to their homes ; but Edward thought he should find no difficulty in coming over the citizens. He accordingly called a meeting in St. Paul's Churchyard, when the confirmation was read over, amid cheers, and cries of " hear " at the end of every clause, until the last, when the shouts of " Shame ! " " No, no ! " " It 's a dead swindle ! " and " Don't you wish you may get it ? " became truly terrible. Edward retained his usual self-possession during the meeting, but expressed, in side speeches to his attendants, his fears that the citizens were not such fools as he had taken them for. Making a virtue of necessity — though, by the way, virtues made out of that material very seldom appear to fit, but sit veiy awkwardly on the wearer — he with- drew the offensive clause at a Parliament that was held soon after Easter. Edward and Philip, finding it convenient to make up their differences, threw overboard their respective allies, the French king giving up the Scots, and the English sovereign completely sacrificing the poor old Guy of Flanders. This earl has got the name of the Unfortunate, but he better deserves the title of the soft Guy, the silly Guy, or the Guy that, if there happened to be a difficulty within his reach, was sure to blunder into it. He had twice been fool enough to accept an invi- tation from Philip, and had twice been detained as a prisoner. We therefore have little sympathy with him when we hear of his being deserted by Edward ; for " the man who " will continually run his head into a noose, must expect to find the stringency of the string at some time or another Peace was made between the French and English kings by means of two marriages ; but it seems rash to calculate upon matrimony as a source of quietude. Edward, who was a widower, married Philip's sister, Margaret, and the Prince of Wales was affianced to little Isabella, aged only six years, the daughter of the French sovereign. A treaty was concluded between the two countries on the 20th of May, 1303, by which Edward took Guienne, and gave up Flanders. The unhappy Guy was sent thither to negociate a peace with his own subjects, but, like everything else he undertook, the poor old man made a sad mess of it Returning to Philip with the news of his failure, he was com- CHAP. II.] ROBERT BRUCE. DEATH OF EDWARD. 143 mitted to prison, which really, considering all things, seems to have been the best place for him. He was, at all events, out of harm's way, and prevented from doing mischief to himself and others by his pro- voking stupidity. He remained in custody till he died, but it was said of him by a contemporary that he was never known to " look alive " during the whole of his existence. Edward, having settled his dispute with France, had time to turn his attention to Scotland, which had always been his " great difficulty," as Ireland became the "great difficulty" to England at a later period. The English king advanced against the Scotch in a sort of hop-scotch style, first making for the North, then returning to the South, or going to the East, in a zig-zag direction. The Scots soon surrendered, and were allowed to go scot-free, with a very few exceptions. Stirling Castle proved itself possessed of sterling qualities. It held out against the besiegers with determined obstinacy, and Edward himself came to assist by throwing stones, which caused the remark to be made that the king had been brought to a very pretty pitch through the audacity of the Scotch rebels. When the provisions were exhausted, the garrison made an unpro visional surrender, and the governor gave out that he gave in, with all his companions. Wallace, having been betrayed into Edward's power, was cruelly murdered; but within six months of his death, Liberty, like a new-born infant, was in arms once more in Scotland. Eobert Bruce, the grandson of old Bruce, was the new champion of his native land, and intrusted his scheme to Comyn. The latter proved treacherous, and Bruce, seeing what was Comyn, or rather, what Comyn was, killed him right off out of the way, in a convent at Dumfries. Young Bruce having mustered a party of about a dozen friends, took an excursion with them to Scone, where, in the course of a kind of pic-nic party, he was crowned on the 27th of March, 1306, with some solemnity Edward was at Winchester when he heard the news, and, though very far from well, he determined on being carried to Scotland. Like John, who had been dragged about the country in a horse-box till within a few hours of his death, Edward was packed on a litter and conveyed with care to Carlisle, whence he wished to be forwarded to Scotland. Making a desperate effort, he mounted his horse, and went six miles in four days, a pace which could only have been performed by an equestrian prodigy ; for the slowest animal, unless he were a determined jibber, could scarcely have accomplished a task so difficult.* This anything but " rapid act of horsemanship " was the last act of Edward's reign, for having got to Burgh upon the Sands, he found the sand of his existence had run out, on the 7th of July, 1307. He had lived sixty-eight years, and had reigned during half that time ; so that for him the stream of life had been a sort of half-and-half — an equal mixture — crowned by a frothy, foamy diadem. His remains were, some short time afterwards, * It is possible that the horse hired by the king on this occasion may have been accus- tomed to draw a fly, the owner of which may have been in the habit of charging by the hour. 144 COMIC HISrOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. sent to Westminster, via Waltham, and were buried on the 8th of October, with those of his father Henry The character of Edward has been generally praised, but we are compelled to tender a bill of exceptions to the report of previous historians. He certainly added to his dominions, but if this is a merit, it may be claimed for any man who, by fraud or violence, increases his own property at the expense of his neighbours. The improvements effected in hi3 reign were rather in spite of him than owing to his sense of justice or his liberality. He had the talent of talking people out of their money, but this quality he has only shared with many equally accom- plished, but less exalted, swindlers. His attempt to smuggle a clause into Magna Charta, before the face of the citizens, was an act calculated to ruin him in the City, where putting one's hand to paper is a pro- ceeding that must not be trifled with. His treatment of Wallace proves him to have been a cruel and vindictive enemy ; his abandonment of the poor Earl of Flanders shows that lie was an insincere and treacherous friend : he was constant to his hatreds, and fickle in his likings : his animosity had the strength of fire, but in him the milk of human kind- ness was greatly diluted with water. He made some good laws, such as the statute of mortmain, which was first passed in his reign, but so far from there being any truth in the proverb, neccssitas non habet ler/em, it is certain that necessity produced nearly every good law that Edward gave to his people. In person, he was a head taller than the ordinary size, with black hair that curled naturally, and eyes that matched the hair in colour.* His legs were too long in proportion to his body, which gained him the nickname of Longshanks, though it would have been more respectful to have called him Daddy Long-legs, in allusion to his being the father of his people. He observed the outward decencies of life, but in this he evinced the strength of his hypocrisy rather than the extent of his morality. It may be worthy of remark, that the title of Baron, which had hitherto been common to all gentlemen who held lands of the Crown, was in this reign restricted to those whom the king called to Parliament.! During the monarchy of Edward, Koger Bacon lived and died ; but as we have already expressed our antipathy to putting butter upon Bacon, we refrain from any eulogy upon that illustrious character * Rapin, Vol. III., page 88. f The last of the Non-Parliamentary baron9 is the well-known Baron Nathan of Xennington. He still claims a seat among the Piers of Gravesend and Rosherville. CHAP. IIT.J EDWARD S PARTIALITY FOR GAVESTON. 145 CHAPTER THE THIRD. EDWARD THE SECOND, SURNAMED OF CAERNARVON. dward II. was, in common phraseo- logy, a very nice young man when he came to the throne, being twenty- three years of age, and tolerably good-looking, though he turned out eventually, according to one of the chroniclers of the times, "a very ugly customer." His first step on coming to the throne was to send for a scamp named Piers Gaves- ton, a Gascon youth who was full of gasconade, and had been sent out of England by the late king as an improper character. Young Edward who hadbeen much attached to this early specimen of the gent., recalled Piers Gaveston, and made him a nobleman by creating him Duke of Cornwall, but never suc- ceeded in making him a gentleman. This step was in direct violation of a solemn promise to Edward I., who had warned his son against Gaveston, as a bad young man and by no means a desirable acquaintance for an English sovereign. Directly Piers arrived, he and his young master began to play all sorts of tricks, and, by way of change, dismissed the Chancellor, the Treasurer, the Barons of the Exchequer, and all the Judges. The whole of the judicial staff of the kingdom being thrown out of employ, a panic was created in all the courts, and some of their lordships, being unable to meet the demands upon them, were compelled to go to prison. Many were stripped of all their property by the king, at the instigation of Gaveston, and the Chancellor not only lost the seals, but his watch, and a number of other articles of value. Edward and his friend were determined to pay off those who had been instrumental to the latter s disgrace, and among others, Langton, the Bishop of Lichfield, was put into solitary confinement, no one being allowed to speak to him, so that the unfortunate Lichfield found himself literally sent to Coventry Gaveston, who was a dashing young spark, nearly set England in a blaze by his return, for he was very far from popular. He could dance and sing, was passionately fond of bagatelle, and as to wine, when he took it into his head he could always drink his bottle. Edward went over to Boulogne, in January, 1308, to get married to 146 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. Isabella, the daughter of the King of France, and left Gaveston regent of the kingdom. His majesty soon got tired of a French watering-place, and returned to England for his coronation, which took place on the 24th of February, at Westminster. All the honours were showered upon Gaveston, and instead of giving the perquisites to the proper officers, the king handed them over, one by one, to the favourite- " Put that in your pocket, Piers, my boy," exclaimed Edward, as he transferred to his disreputable friend each article that some officer of state was entitled to. The English nobility, as they saw everything passing into the hands of the Gascon, could only murmur to each other, *' What a shame ! " " That 's mine, by rights ! " and " Well, I never r did you ever ? " But the Bishop of Winchester gave his majesty a dose, by mixing up a pretty strong oath and making him swallow every word of it. He undertook of course to confirm the Charter, which really becomes quite a bore to the historian, who cannot help feeling something of the satiety induced by toujours perdrix, and he draws the humiliating conclusion that his countrymen, having got hold of a good thing, never knew when they had had enough of it. Gaveston's conduct became so overbearing, that a regular British cry of " Turn him out ! " resounded from one end of the kingdom to the other. Englishmen seldom do G^iGvctlTiI Edward II. and his Favourite, Piers Gaveston. CHAP. III.] BANISHMENT OF GAVESTON. 147 things by halves, and having once raised a shout, they did not desist from it, hut to the howl of " Turn him out," they added a demand for the sovereign to " Throw him over ! " With this requisition Edward reluctantly complied, and Gaveston was expelled from England ; hut only to be made Governor of Ireland, until the king could get the per- mission of the Barons to allow the favourite to come back again. This, with their usual imbecility, they speedily agreed to, and Piers soon returned to the Court, which he filled with buffoons and parasites. Any moun- tebank who could make a fool of himself was sure of an engagement at the palace. The king's horse-collars were worn out with being grinned through, and the family circle of royalty was never without a clown to the ring, under the management of Piers Gaveston. The favourite himself became so arrogant that he would dress himself up in the royal jewels,* wearing the crown instead of his own hat, and turning the sceptre into a walking-stick. Edward, being in want of supplies, called a Parliament in 1309, but the Parliament would not come, which caused him to call again ; and the more he kept on calling the more they kept on not coming, until the month of March, 1310, when they came in arms, for they were determined no longer to submit to Gaveston's insolence. He had offended their order by giving them all sorts of nicknames, which are less remarkable for their wit than their coarseness. He called the Earl of Lancaster an old hog, or, perhaps, a dreadful bore ; to Warwick he gave the name of the Black Dog, in reply, perhaps, to an insinuation that he, Gaveston, was a puppy ; and the Earl of Pembroke was allite- ratively alluded to as "Joe the Jew,"f by the abusive but not very facetious favourite. In August, 1311, Edward met the Barons at Westminster. Their lordships would seem to have all got out of bed on the wrong side on the morning of the assembly, for their surliness and ill-temper were utterly unparalleled. They prepared forty-one articles, to which they insisted on having the consent of his majesty. Of course, in the catalogue of claims our old friend Magna Charta was not forgotten. This glorious instrument of our early liberties, was once more touched up, and a new clause introduced, which imparted freshness to the document. It provided " that the king should hold a parliament once a year, or twice if need be," as if the Barons had been impressed with the idea that " the more the merrier," was a sound maxim of politics The banishment of Gaveston was, however, the grand desideratum, and this was at length consented to by Edward, who on the 1st of November, 1311, took leave of the favourite. His majesty retired to York, but soon began to ask himself — " What 's this dull town to me ?" in the absence of Piers, who, in less than two months, was again sharing the dissipations of his sovereign. The royal party had gone for a * II joignoit a cela une vanite ridicule, en affectant de porter sur sa personne le j'oyaux du Roi ct de la couronne meme. — Rapin, Yol. III., p. 94. + Vide Rapin, Vol. III., p. 95, and also a Note in Lineard. l2 148 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK UI. change to Newcastle, when the cry of " somebody coming " disturbed the revels of the king and his courtiers. This unwelcome " somebody" was no less a personage than Edward's cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, who had arrived with a few barons for the purpose of, as they said, " giving it " to Gaveston. The king and the favourite escaped from Newcastle in a ship — probably a collier — but the sovereign was heart- less enough to leave his wife behind him with the utmost indifference. It was sauve qui peut with the whole Court, and the queen was lost in the general scamper. The favourite, after running as hard as he could, threw himself, quite out of breath, into Scarborough Castle, which was strong in everything but eatables, for the supply of provisions was perfectly contemptible. Piers Gaveston, who had never been accus- tomed to short commons, went to the window of the castle, and calling Parley bstween Piers Gaveston and the Earl of Pembroke. CHAP. 111.] BATTLE OF BANNOCKBUKN. 149 out to the Earl of Pembroke, who was waiting outside, proposed to capitulate. " Can we come to any terms?" cried Piers ; but the earl would at first hear of nothing short of an unconditional surrender. After some parleying, Pembroke exclaimed — "I'll tell you what I'll do for you. If you choose to place yourself in my hands, I '11 promise to take you to your own castle at Wallingford." " You 're not joking?" cried Gaveston, as he looked through the rusty bars of the fortress. " Honour bright," was the substance of the earl's reply, and Piers put himself at once into the hands of Pembroke. It was arranged that the king should meet the favourite at Wallingford ; but one morning on the road, he was ordered out of bed at an unusually early hour, when whom should he see upon going down stairs, but the grim Earl of Warwick ! Gaveston began to feel that it was all up with him. Putting him on a mule, they conveyed him to Warwick Castle, where a hurried council was got up — the Duke of Lancaster in the chair — for his trial. He was of course condemned, when he threw himself for pardon at the feet of Lancaster, who kicked him aside, and all the rest gave him a lesson on the Lancastrian system, by a similar indignity. A proposition was made in the body of the hall, to spare his life, but somebody exclaimed that "Gaveston had been the cause of all their difficulties, and that, when a difficulty came in the way, the best plan was to break the neck of it." The stern justice of this remark was instantly acknowledged, and amid savage cries of " Bring him along," they dragged the favourite off to Blacklow Hill, where, by removing his head from his shoulders, they made what may be called short work of him Upon hearing the news, the king cried for grief, and then cried for vengeance. After reconciling himself to his loss, he reconciled himself to the Barons, and the double reconciliation was greatly assisted by the barons having given up to him (a.d. 1313,) the plate and jewels of the deceased favourite. Edward, on looking round him, found that the *' Scots whom Bruce had often led " were making considerable progress. The English king at once ordered an army to meet him at Berwick, and by a given day one hundred thousand men had assembled. Bruce had got scarcely forty thousand, so that the chances were more than two to one against him. He took them into a field near Bannockburn, and spread them out so as to make the very most of them. On Sunday, the 23rd of June, 1314, Edward and his army came in sight. After some desultory fighting, the monotony of the day's proceedings was relieved by a somewhat curious incident Bruce, who seems to have been rather eccentric in his turn-out, was riding on a little bit of a pony, quite under the duty imposed upon it, in front of his troops. He wore upon his head a skull-cap, over that a steel helmet, and over that a crown of gold, while in his hand he carried an enormous battle-axe. He and his Shetland were frisking about, when an English knight, one Hemy de Bohun, or Boone, came galloping down, armed J 50 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. at all points, upon a magnificent British dray-horse. Bruce, instead of getting out of the way, entered into the unequal combat, amid cries of " Go it, Bob ! " from his own followers. He instantly fell upon and felled to the earth the English knight, amid the acclamations of the surrounding soldiers. The battle was very vigorously fought on both sides, and victory seemed doubtful, when suddenly there appeared on a hill, at the back of the Scotch, an immense crowd, that looked like a new army. The group in reality consisted of nothing but a mob of suttlers and camp-followers, who had been kept back by Bruce to look like a tremendous reserve, and who might be called the heavy scarecrows of the Scotch army. The plan succeeded admirably, for although the English did not receive a single blow, they were completely panic-struck, which had the same effect as the severest beating. They fled in all directions, with the Scotch in hot pursuit ; and it is said that Edward himself had to run for it as far as Dunbar, a distance of sixty miles, with the enemy after him. According to the Scotch historians, the results of this victory were truly marvellous, for the number of prisoners alleged to have been taken is actually greater than the number of the combatants. The chariots and waggons, it is also said, would have extended for many leagues if drawn up into a line ; but this is merely one of those lengths which are too frequently gone to by the old chroniclers. Though it is impossible that the Scotch could have killed fifty thousand, and made double the num- ber of prisoners out of a hundred thousand men, — unless they manufac- tured fifty thousand additional foes as readily as Vauxhall can put forth its fifty thousand additional lamps, — it is, nevertheless, certain that on this occasion England experienced the severest defeat it had encountered since the establishment of the monarchy. Such was the effect created by the battle of Bannockburn, that for some time after three Scotchmen were considered equivalent to a hundred Englishmen. There is every reason to believe that the Scotch were exceedingly vigorous in coming to the scratch at that early period. Encouraged by the success of his brother Robert in Scotland, Edward Bruce thought that the Crown of Ireland was a little matter that would just suit him, and he accordingly passed over to the green isle in the hope of finding it green enough to accept him as its sovereign. He was for a time successful in his project, and was actually crowned at Carrickfergus, on the 2nd of May, 1316. But after knocking about the country, and being knocked about in the country, for a year and a half, he got a decisive blow from the English, on the 5th of October, 1318, at Fagher, near Dundalk. Though he had landed in Ireland with only five Jiundred Scotchmen, he was left dead in the field with two thousand of his fellow-countrymen. He had been joined no doubt by several after his first arrival, but if he had not, it would have been all the same to the Chroniclers, who would not have scrupled to kill the same indi- viduals four times over, to make a total sufficiently imposing for historical purposes. The historians would have been invaluable to a CHAP HE.] PK01I0TI0N OF THE DESPENCEES. 151 minister of finance, for they could always create an enormous surplus out of a vast deficiency. The Scotch continued their successes until a truce was agreed upon for two years, and thus Edward had leisure to look after domestic affairs, which had been fearfully neglected. Since the death of Gaveston, the royal favourite, there had been just room for one in the not very capa- cious heart of the English sovereign. A certain Hugh Spencer had been introduced to the Court by the barons, as a sort of page, to act as a spy upon the king, and it is a curious feet, that the spencer, or jacket, has been the characteristic of the page from that time to the present Hugh Spencer had a shrewd father, who advised his son to care no more for the barons, who had got him his place, but to work it to his own advantage, and make the most of the perquisites. Young Hugh, taking the parental hint, determined on booking him- self for the inside place in Edward's heart, which has been already alluded to as vacant. Not only did he succeed in his design, but con- trived to take up his old father, and carry him along as a sort of outside passenger. Riches and promotion were showered on the Spencers, who adopted a coat of arms, and made themselves Despencers, by prefixing the syllable de, which can impart a particle of aristocracy to the most plebeian of patronymics. The Despencers had obtained such influence over the king that he allowed them to do as they pleased ; and as they took all the good things to themselves, the nobles — who were getting nothing — began to evince considerable anxiety for the public interest. The Earl of Lancaster, a prince of the blood, felt his order insulted by the promotion of the two plebeians, and he one day energetically -exclaimed, " that Spencers could not have anything in tail, though the king might try to fasten it on to them." Lancaster marched upon London, and pitched his tent in Holborn, among the hills that abound in that locality. He gave out half jocularly, that " he had come to baste a couple of Spencers, by trimming their jackets," but he was saved the trouble by a Parliament, which met armed at Westminster, and passed on the two Despencers a sentence of banishment. They were accordingly exiled in August, but came back in October, presenting an instance of a quick % return without the smallest profit. Lancaster retired to the north, and was met at Boroughbridge by Sir Simon Ward and Sir Andrew Harclay, a couple of stout English knights, who stopped up the passage. Lancaster endeavoured to swim across the river, but the tide had turned against him, and he was taken prisoner. The unfortunate earl having been tried, was condemned to an ignominious death, and the mob were allowed to pelt him with mud on his way to execution, — a privilege of which a generous public took the fullest advantage. Edward had now to encounter opposition from a new quarter, or rather from two quarters, for his better half, Isabella, the sister of Charles le Bel, was now plotting against him. She left him under the pretence of going to settle some business for him in France, and then 152 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. refused to return to him. Some ambassadors volunteered to bring her back, but the ambassadors never came back themselves, for they had been in league with the queen, and only wanted an opportunity of joining her. Their conduct brings to mind the anecdote of a scene that once passed in the shop of a shoemaker. A stranger had tried on a pair of shoes, and another stranger had been trying on a pair of boots at the same moment. Suddenly the shoes decamped without payment, when the boots standing upon their professed swiftness, offered to go in pursuit of the unprincipled shoes ; and as neither shoes nor boots were ever seen again by the tradesman, it is probable that the " false fleeting perjured Clarences " are still being pursued by the immortal Wellingtons. Thus the Earl of Kent, the king's own brother, the Earl of Richmond, his cousin, and others, who had undertaken to go after the queen to bring her back, remained with her, until she returned as an enemy to her own husband. Edward was now compelled to run away in his turn from his angry wife ; and, rather than encounter the fury of a domestic storm, he got into a ship with young Despencer, to brave the elements. Old Despencer was taken and hanged, without the ceremony of a trial. The Prince of Wales was appointed guardian of the kingdom on account of the absence of his father, who had been regularly advertised, but had declined to come forward lest he should hear of something to his disadvantage. Having been tossed about upon the waves for several days, he came ashore on the coast of Wales, and hid himself for some weeks, with young Despencer and another, in the mountains of Glamor- ganshire. His two companions were one day startled by a cry of " We 've got you ! " and were instantly seized, upon which, Edward exclaiming, "It's no use: you've got the two birds in the hand, and may as well have the one in the bush," rolled out of a hedge and gave himself up to his pursuers. Young Despencer was taken to Hereford, and hanged at once, upon a gallows fifty feet high ; but why severity was carried to such a height is a question we have no means of answering. It has been brutally said by an annotator that the culprit had been accustomed to the high ropes during his life, and it was therefore deter- mined that they should accompany him even to the gibbet. The king was sent in custody to Kenilworth Castle, and Parliament met on the 7th of January, 1327, to consider what should be done with him. His deposition was a preliminary step ; for it was the custom in those days to punish first, and try the culprit afterwards. It was determined to place his son upon the throne in his stead, and on the 20th of Janu- ary, 1327, a deputation went to Kenilworth to receive his abdication, if he liked to give it, or to take it by force if he should prove refractory. The king, seeing Sir William Trussel, the Speaker, at the head of his- enemies, observed calmly, but sadly, " Alas ! the Trussel I depended upon for support has joined in dropping me." He renounced the regal dignity, and, on the 24th of January, Edward III. was proclaimed king, and crowned on the 29 th at Westminster. CHAP. III. DEPOSITION AND DEATH OB EDWAED II 153 Edward II. resigning his Crown. This proceeding is on many accounts remarkable, and of the utmost value, as settling a point of constitutional practice, which had never before been recognised It established a precedent for dissolving under extraordinary circumstances the compact between the king and the people. It negatived the alleged " right divine of kings to govern wrong," and proved that it was not always necessary to take violent means for ridding a country of a tyrant. It showed that the crown might be removed from the head without taking off the head and all, which had been hitherto the recognised mode of effecting a transfer of the royal diadem. The unhappy Edward was kept for a time at Kenil worth; but ultimately by command of Lord Mortimer, who had entire influence over the queen, the deposed king was removed to Berkeley Castle- Here it is believed he was most cruelly murdered, though it was given out by his keepers that his death was perfectly natural. He died on the 21st of September, 1327, in the forty- third year of his age, and the nineteenth of his reign. No inquiry took place, and although no coro* ner's inquest was held, " Wilful Murder against some person or persons unknown " is the almost unanimous verdict of posterity. The character of this long has been said to have been chiefly dis- figured by feebleness of judgment, which prevented him from knowing what was good for him He managed, nevertheless, to find out what was 154 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. bad for his subjects, and he was never at a loss to secure the means of enjoyment for himself and his favourites, at the expense of his people. In the reign of Edward II. the order of Knights Templars was abolished, a circumstance which arose from the King of France being short of cash, and casting a longing eye upon the rich possessions of the order. In France they were put to the torture to force them into con- fessions of crimes they had never committed ; but in England the same effect was produced by imprisonment ; for instruments of cruelty were never recognised by English laws, or encouraged as articles of British manufacture. The Archbishop of York finding nothing of the kind in the country, wished to send abroad for a pattern,* but it must be spoken to the credit of our ancestors, that though, in a pecuniary sense, they were famous for applying the screw, the thumb-screw was never popular. Rapin mentions among the great events of this reign, a tremendous earthquake, but it can have been no great shakes, for we do not find any details of its destructive effects in the old chronicles. It occurred on the 14th of November, 1820, to the unspeakable terror of all classes; but it did not swallow up half as much as is swallowed up annually on the 9 th of November at the Mansion House in London CHAPTER THE FOURTH. EDWARD THE THIRD. The young king did not upon his father's death come to the throne, for he had taken his seat upon the imperial cushion eight months before the decease of his by no means lamented parent. Mortimer had caused a medal to be struck in celebration of the accession of Edward III., in which he was represented receiving the crown, with the motto, " Non rapit sed recipit" which we need scarcely translate into " he did not snatch it, but got it honestly."f A council of regency was appointed, to which" Mortimer, with affected modesty, declined to belong, but he and the Queen did as they pleased with the affairs of government. Her majesty got an enormous grant to pay her debts, but knowing the extravagant and dishonest character of the woman, we have reason to believe that she pocketed the money and never satisfied the demands of her credi- tors. She obtained, also, an allowance of twenty thousand a year, which was better than two-thirds of the revenues of the crown ; so that a paltry six-and eightpence in the pound was the utmost that young Edward •could have had to live upon. The Earl of Lancaster was appointed * Hemingford. + It is a curious fact that Mortimer should have heen in the medal line, a business in which bis namesake of the house of Storr & Mortimer has since become so illustrious. OHAP. IV.] WAR WITH SCOTLAND. 155 guardian, and began doing the best for himself, after the approved fashion of the period The attainders against the great Earl of Lan- caster were of course reversed, and the confiscation of the estates of the Despencer, afforded some very pretty pickings to the party that was now dominant. Though the king was too young to govern, his admirers persuaded him that he was quite old enough to fight, and he was recommended to try his hand against Bruce, who was getting old ; so that, in the Ian guage of the ring, the British pet was not very ill matched against the Scottish veteran. The Caledonian Slasher, as Bruce might justly have been called, had broken the truce agreed upon with Edward II., and had sent an army into Yorkshire, which plundered as it went every town and village. The stealing of sheep and oxen was carried on to such an extent by the Scotch troops that their camp resembled Smith- field market, or a prize cattle show. Sixty thousand men gathered round the standard of Edward, but the foreign and native troops quar- relled with such fury among themselves that they had little energy left to be expended on the enemy. Fortunately for the English king the vastness of his army made up for its want of discipline. Bruce, directly he saw the foe, waited only to take their number, and retired with the utmost rapidity, amusing himself with the Scotch favourite Bums, by setting fire to all the villages. The English, instead of following the enemy, waited a night upon the road for some provisions expected by the Parcels Delivery, which had been •delayed by some accident. The Scotch were thus allowed to get ahead, and Edward sent a crier through his camp, offering a hundred a year, with the honour of knighthood, to any one who would apprise him of the place where he should find the opposing army. Thomas of Eokeby, so called from his habit of rokeing about, was successful in the search, and came galloping into the English camp with a loud cry of Eureka, and a demand of " money down," with knighthood on the spot, before he divulged his secret. "You're very particular, Sir," said Edward, flinging him a purse, containing his annuity for the first year, and dubbing him a knight by a blow on the head from the flat of the sword, administered Tvith unusual vehemence. Thomas of Eokeby having pocketed the money, and secured the dignity, pointed to a hill three leagues off, observing, "There they are!" an observation which caused a general exclamation of " Well, it s very fimny ! To think that they should have been so near us all the while and we not aware of it ! " The English having made for the spot, sent a challenge, inviting the Scotch to meet them in a fair, open field, but the proposition was declined, with thanks and compliments. The English, on the return of the herald, went to sleep, for the presence of the herald always had a soporiferous influence. Edward was exceedingly severe upon the occasion, and commented upon the herald's news, which the king declared was always most unsatis factory. For three days and three nights, the English laid by the sido of the river, having been thrown by the herald into a state of dreamy 156 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK III inactivity At length, on the fourth day, they woke from their transient trance, when they found that the Scotch had once more changed their Thomas of Rokeby receiving the honour of Knighthood. position. Edward moved higher up, keeping opposite to the foe, and the two armies lay facing each other for eighteen days and nights, like- two great cowardly boys, both afraid of " coming on," but each assuming a menacing attitude. There is every reason to believe that the herald had mesmerised the whole of the English troops, for they allowed the Scotch to go away in the dead of the night for want of proper vigilance The probability, however, is that both armies were illustrating the proverb, that " none are so blind as those who won't see," and that their aversion to "come on," was mutual. A truce was concluded, and Edward, according to Froissart, returned " right pensive " to London ; but his " right pensiveness " may have been accounted for by the fact that he was on the eve of marriage His mother had, during her visit to the Continent, arranged to wed him to Philippa of Hainault, a lady who, to judge from her portrait on her tomb in Westminster Abbey, was one of those monsters commonly called a " fine woman." This fineness in the female form consists of excessive coarseness, which is better adapted to the laundry than the CHAP IV.] ASSOCIATION OF THE BAEONS AGAINST MORTIMER. 157 domestic circle. She however made Edward an excellent better half, or perhaps a better two-thirds is a more suitable term to indicate the relative proportions of the royal couple. She was brought to London by her uncle John, surnamed of Hainault, and it being Christmas-time, she was taken about to enjoy all the amusements of the festive season Jousts and tournaments, balls and dinner-parties, were given in her honour during her stay in town ; and on the 24th of January, 1328, the nuptial ceremony was performed with great solemnity. Edward being now married, was desirous of avoiding that roving life which the constant pursuit of Bruce had rendered necessary. The English king thought it better to settle down into the domestic habits of a family man, which was impossible as long as he was compelled to be out all night, watching the foe, and bivouacking with his soldiers. Bruce, who had grown old and gouty, was also eager for peace, which was concluded on the condition of his little boy, David, aged five, being married to Edward's little sister Joanna, aged seven. The English king gave up all claim to the sovereignty of Scotland, causing even the insignia of Scotch royalty to be carefully packed and forwarded to Bruce, who, on opening the parcel, was delighted to find himself in possession of the crown and sceptre of his predecessors. He did not, however, get quite the best of the bargain, for he undertook to pay thirty thou- sand marks into Edward's Court as compensation, in the form of liqui- dated damages, for the mischief that the Scotch invaders had committed. Bruce had obtained a sort of letter of licence, allowing him to take three years for the payment of the sum agreed upon. A more formidable creditor, however, took him in execution, for he was called upon to pay the debt of Nature within the ensuing twelvemonth. Mortimer, who had advised the peace with Scotland, which was by no means popular, got himself created Earl of March, for it is the policy of crafty politi- cians to obtain rewards for their most objectionable measures. It will be remembered that the Earl of Lancaster had been appointed guardian of the young king, but no scapegrace in a comedy ever made such an undutiful ward as the youthful Edward. He remained with his mother and Mortimer, the latter of whom was particularly distasteful to Lancaster, who endeavoured to get up a party to oppose the favourite. This association was joined by the Earls of Kent and Norfolk, two of the king's uncles, as well as by some other gentlemen, who set forth in an advertisement the reason of their having combined. The statement of grievances was drawn up with the usual tact of red-hot patriots, who always put down a few impossibilities in the list of things to be achieved, for the impracticability of their objects prevents their trade from being suddenly brought to a dead stand-still. There were eight articles in the Lancastrian manifesto, which chiefly aimed at Mortimer and the queen, who soon persuaded Edward that the real object of the advertisers was to deprive him of his crown. " I thought you were the parties pointed at," said the young king to his mother and her paramour ; but the latter merely observing, " My dear fellow, they mean you, as sure as J 58 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 112. my name is Mortimer," soon taught Edward to believe that he was the object of the hostility of the rebellious nobles. Preparations were being made to chastise them, when Kent and Norfolk abandoned Lancaster, who justly complained of having been trifled with. The humiliated and humbugged Lancaster was glad to accept a pardon, and pay down a considerable sum towards the expenses which had been incurred in pre paring for his own discomfiture. Mortimer did not forgive the parties who had contemplated his overthrow, but formed a determination to get hold of them when a good opportunity offered. Kent, the king's uncle, who was rather a feeble-minded person, became the victim of " a mockery, a delusion, and a snare." He received a number of anonymous letters, informing him that his brother, the late king, was alive, in Corfe Castle. " Pooh, pooh," said Kent to himself, as he perused the first three or four epistles ; " I 'm not quite such a fool as to be taken in upon that point. I 'm not going to believe my brother is alive, when I happen to have been present as chief mourner at his funeral." Every post, however, brought such a pile of corre- spondence upon the subject that he first began to believe that half of what he was told might possibly be true, and when credulity admits one half of a story, the other half soon forces an entrance. Kent's anony- mous correspondents, not content with declaring the late king to be alive, gave the circumstantiality to their statement which is generally resorted to in the absence of truth, and indicated Corfe Castle as the place where the second Edward , was "hanging out" at that very moment. The credulous Kent being in doubt as to the fate of his brother, wrote at once to ask him whether he was really dead or alive ; saying to himself as he put the epistle into the post, " There ; I 've written to him now, and so we shall soon settle that question one way or the other." The party being deceased, the letter came back to the dead-letter- office, and fell into the clutches of Mortimer. Everything was done to humour the delusion of poor Kent, who, having been told that his brother was confined in Corfe Castle, sent a confidential messenger to make inquiries in the neighbourhood. It is even said that a sort of optical illusion, a jack-o'-lantern, or phantasmagoria, or dissolving view, had been resorted to, for the purpose of showing a representation of Edward II. sitting in Corfe Castle at his luncheon,* with a waiter or two in attendance, as a mark of respect to the unhappy sovereign. The messenger returned with the news to Edmond, who determined to use his own eyes, by going to Corfe Castle and judging for himself. When he arrived and saw the governor, that wily official pretended to be much surprised at the secret having been divulged. He did not deny that Edmond was at the castle, but merely remarked that the captive could not be seen. " At all events you can give him this letter," said Edward, putting into the governor's hands a douceur and a commu- nication directed to the deceased monarch, offering to aid him in his escape from captivity. * Rapin, torn, iii., p. 152. chap. iv. J Edward's assertion op his rights. 159 The governor took the billet to the queen, and Edmond was arrested on a charge of endeavouring to raise a deceased individual to the throne. Poor Kent was put upon his trial, and his own letter having been pro- duced, with witnesses to prove his hand-writing, the case against him was complete. The whole proceeding was disposed of with the rapidity of an undefended cause ; speedy execution was asked for and granted, but the headsman was nowhere to be found, though persons were sent to look for him all over Winchester. A delay of four hours was occasioned, and the generous British public began to expect that they should lose the spectacle they had assembled to witness, when a convicted felon came forward in the handsomest manner, at a moment's notice, to pre vent disappointment, by undertaking the part of headsman. Thus, at the early age of twenty-eight, perished Prince Edmond, on the charge of having sought to put a sceptre in the hands of a spectre, and raise a phantom to the throne. He left two sons and two daughters, one of whom was a beauty whom we will not attempt to paint, for our inkstand is not a rouge-pot, and if it were we should be sorry to apply its contents to so fair a countenance. She married eventually the eldest son of Edward the Third, who became so celebrated as the Black Prince, and who was born at about the period (1330) to which our history has arrived. The king finding himself a father, determined to be no longer a child in the hands of a tyrannical mother, and he longed for some assistance from his subjects, to enable him to throw off the maternal yoke as soon as possible. . Edward at last opened his mind— a very small recess — to Lord Montacute. A parliament was being held at Nottingham, where Mor- timer and the queen had lodgings in the Castle, while the Bishops and Barons took apartments in the town and suburbs. How to get hold of Mortimer was the great difficulty, for queen Isabella had the keys of the Castle brought up to her every evening, and placed at her bedside.* Her majesty na( i g one round as usual to see everything safe, and all the candles out; but of course, like other sagacious people, who examine minutely the fastenings of the doors, she never gave a thought to the cellars. Through one of these the, governor, (who, like all the great officers of that period — the founders of our illustrious families — was a sneaking knave, ready to do anything for money,) admitted Montacute and his followers. They crawled along a dark passage, at the end of which they were met by Edward, who conducted them up a staircase into a room adjoining his mother's chamber. The queen had gone to bed, but Mortimer, the Bishop of Lincoln, and one or two others, were sitting — probably over their grog — in an apartment close at hand. Their language had all the earnestness that might be expected from the time of night, and the manner in which they were occupied. They were, in fact, all talking at once, when Montacute and party rushed in, knocking down two knights f who sat near the door, and seized Mor- * Heming, Knyght, Holinshed. f Knyght, Hening, Rymer. 160 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK III . timer, in spite of the entreaties of Isabella, who ran screaming out of bed on hearing the noise and confusion The favourite was dragged off to the nearest station-house, and Edvard issued a proclamation the next morning, announcing his inten- tion to try his own hand at government forthwith. A parliament met at Westminster on the 26th of November, 1330, by which Mortimer was tried and condemned, though a short time before he enioyed the command of a large majority. The favourite had, however, fallen into disgrace, and the old proverb, " Give a dog a bad name and hang him," was literally realised. After the death of Mortimer, queen Isabella was shut up in a place called the Castle of Risings, on a pension of three thousand a year, according to one historian, four thousand according to others, while Rapin unceremoniously cuts her down to the paltry pittance of five hundred per annum. It is probable that the last-named sum is the nearest the mark, for all agree in saying that " she lived a miserable monument of blighted ambition," and it is obvious that a miserable monument would not require an outlay of three or four thousand a year to keep it in condition during an existence of rather better than a quarter of a century. Though Edward had agreed to a truce with the Scotch, he did not scruple to take a favourable opportunity of breaking it. Though his sister was married to little Master David Bruce, the nominal king, Edward did not hesitate to turn that young gentleman off the throne, to make way for his creature, Edward Baliol. Young David was sent to France, while Baliol kept up a kind of semblance of royalty, but his rebellious subjects took every opportunity, when the backs of the English were turned, to fall upon and baste the bewildered Baliol. Edward was soon compelled to leave his vassal to get on as he could, for the entire throne of France appeared to be open to the ambition of the English sovereign. The French crown seemed to be " open to all parties and influenced by none," when Edward of England and Philip of Valois became candidates for the vacancy. The former claimed as grandson of Philip IV., the latter as grandson of Philip III., and each party endeavoured to complicate the matter as much as he could by producing a number of perplexing and unintelligible pedigrees Philip claimed through his grandfather, who was thought to be a sure card for the French king to depend upon ; but Edward tried to play something stronger, in the shape of what he affectionately called that "• fine old trump, his mother." She, however, was objected to as a female, and the question was, to save further trouble, referred to the arbitration of the peers and judges of France, who decided in favour of Edward's op- ponent. The English king declared the French judges were no judges at all, and refused to be bound by the award ; for it was the royal prac- tice of those days to abide by an agreement only so long as might be convenient CHAP. IV.] EDWARD FAWKS THE CROWN 161 Edward having appointed the Earl of Brabant his agent, coolly de- manded, through that individual, the French crown. The English seconded their sovereign in his preposterous request, and he took ad- vantage of their acquiescence to squeeze out of them all he could in the shape of subsidies, tallages, and forced loans. He raised money by the most disgraceful means, and even pawned the crown with the Archbishop of Treves, who after trying the purity of the gold with the usual test, unpicking the velvet cap, to examine the setting of the jewels, and sub- mitting it to as many indignities as a hat in the hands of an old clothes- man, consented to lend about one tenth of its value on the degraded diadem. Edward pawning the Crown with the Archbishop of Treves. The conversation between the parties, though it has not been authen- tically handed down by the chroniclers, may be very easily imagined. It is probable that Edward, forgetting the dignity of the king in the meanness of the borrower, may have familiarly asked the Archbishop to 44 make it a trifle more " than the sum at first offered. It may be pre- sumed that the greedy ecclesiastic would have objected, that the crown had been very ill-used ; that it got badly treated in the time of John, and that even Edward himself had had a good deal of hard wear out of 162 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. it, which had rubbed off ve,ry much of its pristine brilliancy. But it was not to the comparatively honest expedient of pawning his own property that the king had recourse, for replenishing his exhausted treasury. When he had got all he could by pledging his own honours, and deposited the sceptre and single ball at the sign of the three, he began the old royal trick of plundering his people From the inhabitants of Cornwall Edward took nearly all their tin, and every part of England allowed itself to be fleeced for the purpose of affording one man the means of attempting to gratify his ambition at the expense of an entire people The money thus obtained was devoted to the payment of foreign mercenaries, so that he robbed his own subjects for the double purpose of corruption and usurpation. To enable him to oppress the French, he bribed the Germans with money obtained by plundering the English. He sailed on the 15th of July, 1338, with an army rather more select than numerous, and landed at Antwerp, where he had secured himself a friendly reception by sending emissaries before him to marshal the pea- santry into enthusiastic groups, and " get up" the spectacle without regard to outlay. The burghers were called to numerous rehearsals before the appointed day, and on the arrival of the English king they were tolerably perfect in the parts assigned to them. Edward engaged a few foreign potentates — principally small Germans — to aid him in his audacious enterprise. Louis of Bavaria, Emperor of Germany, came to terms ; the Dukes of Brabant and Gueldres did not refuse his money; the Archbishop of Cologne consented to add a few pounds to his salary ; while the Marquis of Juliers, and the Counts of Hainault and Namur, jumped at a moderate stipend for their services. Every adventurer who was to be had cheap, found instant employment, and James von Artaveldt, a brewer of Ghent, the Barclay or Perkins of his time, made an arrangement for farming out a few of his stoutest draymen. Philip availed himself of a couple of kings in reduced circumstances — those of Navarre and Bohemia — besides securing a few dukes who were in want of a little cash for current expenses. A rope of sand could scarcely have been more fragile than Edward's band of hired followers. Like a Christmas-pudding made of plums and other rich ingredients without any flour to bind it, his sup- porters though comprising a compound of dukes, marquises and counts, with even an archbishop and an emperor, was not likely to hold together as long as it was deficient in the flower of an army, a zealous soldiery. The Flemings and Brabanters having spent his money sneaked off with a promise to meet him next year, and 1338 was consequently lost in doing nothing. By the middle of September 1339, there Avas another muster of the mercenaries, with whom Edward started for Cambray, but happening to look back when he got to the frontiers of France, he saw the Counts of Namur and Hainault disgracefully backing out of the expedition. Having in vain hallooed to them, and finding that the more he kept on calling the more they persevered in not coming, he pushed CHAP. IV.J NAVAL BATTLE AT SLUTS. ]C3 • on as far as St. Quentin, when the rest of his allies struck,, and declared they would not go another step without an advance of wages. Edward, who had spent all his own money and a good deal of somebody else's, — for he was fearfully in debt — could only say" Very well, gentlemen, I 'm in your hands," and turn into the town of Ghent, where he took lodg- ings for a limited period. While here he amused himself by taking the title of King of France, and he had the French lily quartered on his arms ; which, as Philip said when he heard of it, was "like the fellow's impudence." Edward had previously endeavoured to draw his adversary into a battle, but the latter shirked the contest under various pretexts. Some say that he was ready for a terrific combat and was "just going to begin" when he received a letter predicting ill luck, from the King of Naples, who was looked upon as^ sort of Wizard of the South, or royal conjuror No fight took place, and Edward ran across to England in the middle of February 1340, to make a call upon the pockets of his people. The Parliament foolishly throwing good money after bad, granted immense supplies, for which the king thanked them in the fulness of his heart, for the fulness of his pocket. Returning to Flanders, he met the enemy at the harbour of Sluys, on the 24th of June 1340, when a battle en- sued, in which Edward astonished his own followers by his most suc- cessful debut in a naval character. He gave orders to the sailors as freely as if' he had been playing in nautical dramas and dancing naval hornpipes from the days of his infancy. So complete was the victory of the English that nobody dared inform the French king of the extent of his calamity, until the court jester was fool enough to put the news in the shape of a conundrum to Philip. The latter was enjoying his glass of wine and his nut, when the buffoon in waiting declared that he had a nut to crack which would prove somewhat too hard for his royal master. " Were it a pistaccio or a Brazil," cried the king " I would come at the kernel of it." When however the riddle was put* and the sovereign had guessed it, the unhappy fool found it no joke, for he was sorely punished for his ill-judged pleasantry. Edward's success brought round him troops of friends, and finding himself strong, he wrote a letter addressed to Philip of Valois, offering to tackle him singly in a regular stand-up fight man to man, to pit a hundred soldiers against a hundred on the other side, or to pitch into each other's armies by a pitched battle, embracing the entire strength of their respective companies. The French King, who was not disposed to give battle, which he thought might end in his taking a thrashing, evaded the matter, by saying that he had seen a letter addressed to Philip of Valois, but as it could not be meant for him, he should *Rapin, vol. iii. page 178. We haye used every possible exertion to obtain a copy of thfe celebrated riddle, but without having succeeded. The nearest approach we have made to it is an old conundrum in the Hy leaf of the Statutes at Large, which is nearly as follows : — " What was the greatest fillip to the success of Edward ? " There is no answer udded, but there can be little doubt that some allusion to Philip's loss giving a fillip to Edward is intended. M 2 164 COMIC HISTOBY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. certainly decline sending an answer. This shabby subterfuge succeeded in baffling the English king, who consented to a truce and returned to his own country. Edward arrived in London late one night in November, without a Edward's arrival at the Tower. penny in his pocket. He went at once to the Tower, where everybody had gone to bed, for he was not expected, and where there were signs of culpable negligence. There was no fire in his room, and nothing to eat ; which put him into such an ill -humour, that he had three of the judges called up to be thrown into prison, he turned out the Chancellor, the Treasurer, and the Master of the Rolls, besides committing to jail a number of subordinate officers. Those who had been employed in col- lecting the revenue, were the especial objects of his rage, for he expected to have received a large sum, and was irritated beyond measure at the contemptible amount of available assets. Stratford, the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, on hearing of the king's arrival at the Tower — in what has perhaps been since called a " towering passion," from the historical fact— observed to his informant, " Oh ! indeed. Well, I shall bo off out of his way," and fled to his official residence. The king sent CHAP. IV.] TKUCE CONCLUDED WITH BRUCE. 165 him a summons, which he refused to attend, and threatened with excommunication any rascally officer who might attempt to execute the process. Want of money soon softened Edward's heart, and Parliament refused a grant until there had heen another confirmation of Magna Charta, which served the double purpose of a blister to draw the people's cash and a plaster to heal their wounded liberties. In the year 1341, little David of Scotland came over with a little money and a few troops lent to him by the king of France, and with this assistance the Bruce made a tolerably decent appearance in his own country. Edward having projects of wholesale robbery abroad, gave up Scotland as a piece of retail plunder, that was wholly beneath his attention, and concluded a truce with David, who compromised with Baliol, by appointing him to keep watch and ward against the Scottish Fancy Portrait of Inspector Baliol. borderers. A situation in the police seems to have been a sorry com- pensation for one who had aspired to a throne, but it is probable that the pride of Baliol was in some degree consulted by nominating him A. 1, in his new capacity. One would have thought that Edward had had enough of continental warfare, and that " look at home " would have been his motto for the remainder of his reign, but he was soon induced to join in a squabble that had arisen about the crown of Brittany. John the Third, the late 166 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III . Duke, had lately died, leaving one brother and a niece named Jane, who having the misfortune to be lame, had got brutally nicknamed La Boiteuse, in accordance with the coarse and unfeeling practice of that chivalrous period. The contest for the Duchy was between this young lady, who had married Charles de Blois, the French king's nephew, and her uncle John de Montfort, who professed to have a superior claim, and who savagely pooh-poohed her pretensions by allusions to her infirmity. " Hers is indeed a lame case," he would fiendishly exclaim. "Why by my troth, she hasn't got a leg to stand upon.'" This argument was the old rule of grammar, that the masculine is worthier than the feminine ; but this arrangement La Boiteuse determined to kick against. Charles de Blois, her husband, did homage to his uncle Phil for the duchy — Brittany being a fief of France — while John de Montfort propitiated Edward by doing homage to him as the lawful sovereign. Philip and Edward thus became bottleholders to the two competitors ; but through the tardiness of the English king in supporting his man, de Montfort was taken prisoner. This gentleman had the advantage — or the disadvantage as the case may be — of being married to a high-spirited woman. It is fortunate for a man wedded to a vixen wife, when the affectionate virago, instead of making a victim of him, vents her fury upon his enemies. Mrs. de Montfort had, according to Froissart, " the courage of a man and the heart of a lion." In addition to these fascinating qualities she had the tongue of a true woman. She went about with her child in her arms, holding forth in a double sense, for she held forth her infant, and was continually holding forth on the subject of her hus- band's wrongs to the populace. A pretty woman, who takes to public spealdng, is always sure of an approving audience ; but when she began to give recitations in character, by putting a steel casque on her head and a sword in her hand, the effect was truly marvellous. She took a provincial tour, with the never-failing motto of " Female in Distress " as her watchword; and a host of young men engaged themselves as assistants under her banner. She threw herself into a place called Hennebon, where she was besieged by the French, but she ran up and down the ramparts with all the agility of a young tigress. She stood firmly among a shower of arrows, and though danger darted across her every now and then — so much that her casque got a rapid succession of taps — she merely observed that she had never been afraid of a living beau and would certainly not shrink from a bow without vitality. Aid was expected from the English, but as it did not arrive the Bishop of Leon began to croak most horribly, and proposed to capitulate. The Bishop had been to the larder, and finding provisions running exceed- ingly low, declared there was nothing left for them but to eat humble pie as speedily as possible. He had succeeded in raising an emeute d'estomac in the garrison, when the Countess, who had begged the troops to hold out a little longer, saw the English fleet from the window of her dressing-room. " Here they are ! " cried she as she ran down stairs ; and CHAP. IV.] THE FRENCH EA1SE THE SIEGE OF HENNEBON. 167 the whole of the inhabitants were soon watching the arrival of the boats with intense interest. Sir Walter Manny commanded the squadron, and after a good night's rest and a capital dinner the next day, which con- cluded amid a slight shower from the French battering-ram, he declared that he would not run the risk of having any more batter pudding from the same quarter. " That ram," he exclaimed, " must not again disturb me over my mutton; " and he had no sooner dined than he went forth, followed by a few select soldiers, and broke the instrument to pieces. The French, having raised the siege of Hennebon, left Lady de Montfort leisure tc go over to England for the purpose of getting a present of troops that Edward had promised her. She was retuiTring to France with her reinforcements when she fell in with a French fleet, and they fell out as a natural consequence. De Montfort s wife rushed on deck in a coat of mail over her petticoat of female, and fought with Madame de Montfort astonishing the French fleet 1(38 COMIC HISTOtn: OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. tremendous vigour. One of the foe tauntingly told her the needle wa? a fitter instrament for her than the sword, when she rushed upon him, exclaiming, " I want no needle, fellow, to trim your jacket." She cut the thread of several existences, and there is no doubt that had the gun cotton been discovered in those days, she would have used it for the purpose of whipping, basting, hemming in, felling to the earth, and, in a word, sewing up her unfortunate antagonists. Darkness having set in upon this fearful set out, the battle was cut short, for night dropped her curtain in the middle of the act, and brought it to an abrupt conclusion. Edward now came over to superintend the war in person, and he began by looking the danger in the face, which he accomplished by laying several weeks opposite the foe — an example that was followed by the other side ; and thus the two armies continued to take sights at each other during the entire winter. At length a truce for three years and eight months was agreed upon; but its conditions were not attended to. John de Montfort was to have been released from prison, according to the agreement; but Philip, by pitiful quibbles, found excuses for keeping him in closer custody. At length, the old gentle- man escaped in the disguise of a pedlar ; but he was cruelly hounded by his enemies, and with a pack at his back was for some time hunted about, until, by dint of the most dogged perseverance, he arrived safely in England. Coming to the door of his own house, he set up a faint cry of " Stay-lace, boot-lace, shoe-tie," in a disguised voice, which brought the mistress of the establishment to the window ; but she merely shook her head, to indicate that nothing was wanted. Upon this the supposed pedlar threw off his hat and wig, and being instantly recognised, was dragged into the hall, to the surprise of the various servants, until the words " It s your master come back," furnished a clue to the mystery. His wife's joy at meeting her " old man," as she affectionately called him, was extreme ; but the excitement was too much for the veteran, who went bang off, like an exhausted squib, while Lady de Montfort fell in an explosion of grief by the side of her husband. The fortune of war had been oscillating with the regularity of a pendulum between England and France, when the Earl of Derby threw himself into the scale with tremendous weight, and turned it completely in England's favour. In the emphatic language of the day, he was " down upon the French like a thunderbolt." Edward went off to Flanders to treat with the free cities for their allegiance, and, in fact, ascertain the price of those friends of Liberty. Louis the Count, though deprived of nearly all his revenue, kept up his independence, and re fused to pay allegiance or anything else to Edward. The English king tried to effect a transfer of the loyalty of the Flemings from Louis, the Count of Flanders, to his own son. Edward the Black Prince ; and with this view he obtained the support of his old friend James von Arta- veldt, the brewer, whose stout gave him a great ascendancy over the actions of the people. He addressed to them a good deal of frothy CHAP. IV.] EDWARD LANDS IN NORMANDY. 169 declamation, and endeavoured to brew the storm of revolution ; but it ended in very small beer, amid which Artaveldt himself was eventually washed away through the impetuosity of the stream he had himself set in motion. A popular insurrection broke out, and the brewei behaved with great gallantly. He wore a casque on his head which pointed him out as a butt for the malice of his enemies. He was Assassination of Artaveldt the Brewer. cruelly murdered, and Edward vowed vengeance when he heard that the lifeless bier was all that remained of his friend the brewer. In 1346, the English king landed on the coast of Normandy, with an army containing not only the flower of his own troops, but a regular bouquet, in which the English rose was blended with the Welsh leek and a sprig of the Irish shilelah. He marched towards Paris, and his van had even entered the suburbs of that city; but, without attacking the capital, he contented himself with a little arson in the small towns in the neighbourhood. His antagonist was not inactive, and succeeded In getting the English into a corner, from which escape seemed almost impossible. It was necessary to cross the Somme'f r but Philip and the river were rather too deep for Edward and his soldiers. Having waited till the tide went down, they took a desperate plunge, and the foe- having also resolved on making a splash, the two armies met in the 170 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fBOOK III. middle of the stream, where they fought with an ardour that was not damped by the surrounding element. Edward and his troops found as much difficulty in reaching the Bank as if they had made the attempt in an omnibus during one of the blockades of Fleet Street. At length they succeeded, and after travelling for some distance, they put up in the neighbourhood of the village of Cressy. On the 26th of August, 1346, the English sovereign took an early supper, and went to bed. having given instructions for his boots to be brought to his door by dawn on the following morning. The whole army slept well, considering it was the first night in a strange place ; and, having been called by that valuable valet, the lark, every one was up and down by the hour of daybreak. Breakfast was scarcely con eluded when Edward ordered the army to arms, and sent for the Herald in the hopes of getting the news ; but from this quarter he learned nothing. At length he took up his Post, and chose three leaders, a column being assigned to each of them. The first was under the com- mand of his young son, Edward the Black Prince, a youth of fifteen, who held very high rank in the army, having been included in every brevet, not- Edward HI. on the morning of the Battle of Cressy. withstanding the brevity of his service. Two experienced captains — the Earls of Warwick and Oxford — were employed under him to do the work, so that the boy prince had nothing to do but to reap the glory of his position. Reaping laurels under such circumstances was a common practice in those days ; and the vulgar expression " with a hook" may have originated in allusion to the reaping of the harvest created by another's merit. It must, however, be stated in justice to the Black Prince, that he proved himself quite equal to the position in which fortune had placed him. If we examine his character, we shall find in it many good points, and it may fairly be said that the Black Prince was by no means so black as history has painted him. The three divisions took up their position on the hill, and the archers stood in front, forming a semicircle or bow, from which they could more effectually discharge their arrows. The Battle of Cressy is perhaps one of the most interesting in English history; and though part of it was fought in a tremendous shower of rain, which has caused some CHAP. IV.] THE BATTLE OF CEESSY. 171 frivolous writer of the period to give it the name of Water Cressy, we are not induced by this idle and impotent play upon words to lose our respect for one of the greatest exploits of our countrymen. Philip slept at Abbeville on the 25th of August, and rising in a terrible ill-humour set out early in the morning to give battle. He started off in such a fit of sulkiness that he did not even give the word to " march," and breaking suddenly into a run, his impatience carried him far in advance of his army. By the time he came in sight of the foe, he was ever so much ahead of his own troops, and was obliged to sit down .quietly until they had come nearly up to him By some mis- management, the troops at the back started off quicker than those in front, who began to hesitate still more as they approached the enemy, and thus one part of the army beginning to back while those behind pressed forward, a state of confusion which can only be described as a dreadful squeege, was the immediate consequence. " Now then, stupid," resounded from rank to rank, and comrade addressed comrade with the words " Where are you shoving to ? " The king got hurried head fore- most almost into the English camp, in spite of the vehement cries of " Keep back ! " which however were no sooner acted upon than the rear ranks were seized with a panic, and the soldiery began tumbling over each other like those battalions in tin which in youthful days have fallen prostrate beneath the power of the pea-shooter. Philip, who had never intended to take the honour of a foremost rank, was pushed willy-nilly into the front place, like a gentleman who happened to be walking down the Haymarket on an opera night, and found himself suddenly engulfed in a stream which washed him off his legs, and left him high and dry in a stall to which he had been driven by the impetuosity of the torrent. Finding himself in the heat of an engage- ment in which he had not intended to be so closely engaged, his French majesty called to the Genoese crossbow-men to advance, but they pleaded sudden indisposition and fatigue, when Philip's brother deeply offended them by exclaiming — " See what we get by employing such scoundrels, who fail us in our need." The Genoese were rather nettled — that is to say, somewhat stung — by this remark, and made a rush which was worth no more than a rush, for they were really worn out with their morning's walk, and felt fitter to be in bed than in battle. Though their arms and legs were tired, they still had the full use of their lungs, and began to shout out with tremendous vehemence, in the hope of frightening the English. This horrible hooting had no effect, and a Scotch veteran, by happily exclaiming " Hoot awa," turned the laugh in favour of the English. Upon this, the Genoese gave another fearful yell, when one of Edward's soldiers inquired whether the crossbow-men wanted to frighten away the birds, and gave them the nick-name of the heavy scarecrows. They advanced a step, when the English archers sent forth a volley of arrows, which fell like a snow-storm upon the Genoese, who converting their shields into umbrellas, tried to take shelter under them. Philip was so disgusted with this pusillanimous 172 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. conduct, that he cried out in a fury, " Kill me these scoundrels, for they stop our way without doing any good;" and the poor Genoese caught it severely from both sides. During the battle Edward sat on the tip- top of a windmill, situated on the summit of a lofty hill, where, completely out of harm's way, he Edward III. at the Battle of Cressy. could watch the progress of the action. While in this elevated position, he was asked by a messenger to send a reinforcement to the Prince of Wales, who was performing prodigies of valour. " I 'm glad to hear it," said the affectionate father ; " but," he added, " return to those who sent you, and tell them they shall have no help from me. Let the boy win his spurs," continued the old humbug, who was too selfish to put himself out of the way to assist his son, and would rather have let him perish, than make any sacrifice to aid him in his arduous struggles. When these unaided exertions came to a triumphant issue, the father endeavoured to gain a reflected glory from the brilliance of his sons achievements. It is, however, due to the reputation of the latter to assert that the glory was all his own ; for his selfish father had taken CHAP. IV.] DEATH OF THE KING OF BOHEMIA. 173 care of himself, while the son fought the battle alone, and -won it with- out any assistance that it was in the power of his parent to have afforded him. Poor Philip fought desperately as long as he could, till John of Hainault, who had several times advised him to "go home and go to bed, for it was of no use," went up to the horse of the French king, seized the bridle, and quietly led him off in the direction of the nearest green- yard. Seeing it was a bad job, Philip requested to be taken to the castle of La Broye, but the gates were shut, and the chatelain, looking out of window, inquired who was knocking him up at such an unreasonable hour " Me," cried Philip, in the grammar of the period ; but " who s me V " was the only response of the governor. " Why, don't you know me ? I 'in Philip, the fortune of France." " Pretty fortune, indeed ! " muttered the chatelain, as he came down stairs, keys and candle in hand, to admit his unfortunate sovereign. The king's suite had dwindled down to five barons,* who turned in anywhere for the night, on sofas and chairs, while Philip took the spare bed usually kept for visitors. Thus ended the memorable Battle of Cressy, from our account of which we must not omit the incident of the King of Bohemia, who, old and blind, was perverse enough to tie the bridle of his horse to those of two knights, and with them he plunged into the midst of the battle. Considering that he could not have seen his way, there is something very rash, though perhaps very valiant, in this behaviour. Nor should we in our admiration of the bravery of the King of Bohemia, forget to sym- pathise with the two knights, upon whom he must have been a precious drag, by tying his horse's bridle to theirs, and making them no doubt the victims of a most unfortunate attachment. The King of Bohemia of course fell, for the union he had formed was anything but strength, and the Prince of Wales picking up his crest — a plume of ostrich feathers — adopted it for his own, with the celebrated motto of Ich Dien.\ The literal meaning of this motto is simply " I serve," but it has been very naturally suggested that " I am served out " would have been a more appropriate translation of the phrase, as long as it appertained to the unfortunate King of Bohemia. Bapin, the French historian, who is naturally anxious to make the best case he can for his countrymen, attributes their defeat at Cressy to the use of gunpowder by the English, who introduced, for the first time in war, a small magazine of this startling novelty. Such a magasin des nouveautes of course would have taken the French by surprise, and would easily have accounted for any little deficiency of valour they might have exhibited. When the battle was over, Edward sneaked out of his windmill, where he professed to have been " overlooking the reserve," and joined his successful son, whom he warmly congratulated on his position. • * Froissart. + Doubts have been lately cast on this old story. See the Cabinet Portrait Gallery of British Worthies, vol. i., page 81. 174 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. The night after the battle was of course a gala night with the English, who lighted fires, torches, and candles, including probably " fifty thou- sand additional lamps," in celebration of the victory. So excellent., however, were the regulations on the occasion, that we have not heard of a single instance of disturbance or accident. The day after the battle was disgraced by a series of attacks on some French unfortunates, who not knowing of the defeat of their king, were coming to his assistance. It happened that, as if to make the English quite at home, a regular English fog set in, and some French militia, not being able to see their way very clearly, mistook a reconnoitreing party of the enemy for their own countrymen. The French hastened to join their supposed comrades, but soon found out their mistake from the cruel treatment they ex- perienced. Other stragglers, who had missed their way in the mist, were also savagely attacked, and when Edward heard the facts, he sent out Lords Cobham and Stafford, with three heralds, to recognise the arms, and two secretaries to write down the names of those that had fallen. The party returned in the evening, with a list of eleven princes, eighty bannerets, twelve hundred knights, and thirty thousand com- moners. We can only say that the herald of those days could not have been such a very slow affair as the Herald of these, and the secretaries must have written not merely a running but a galloping hand to have in so few hours deciphered the arms, and made a list of the names of such an enormous number of individuals. Having remained over Sunday at Cressy, Edward set out on Monday morning for Calais, with the intention of besieging it. While he was occupied abroad, his enemy, little David Bruce, at the instigation of Philip, attempted to disturb England. After a brief campaign, in which the Scotch king was joined by the Earls of Monteith and Fife, David Bruce was placed in custody. Monteith lost his head for showing his teeth, and Fife would have had a stop put to him, but for his relation- ship to the Koyal Family, his mother having been niece to the first Edward. Calais was kept in a state of blockade, for the English king had resolved upon hemming in and starving out the inhabitants. John de Vienne, who was the governor, finding provisions getting low, turned what he called the " useless mouths " out of the place, and among these " useless mouths" were a number of women, who must have been rare specimens of their sex to have kept their mouths in a state of useless- ness. The brutal policy of John de Vienne was to continue weeding the population as long as he could by turning out the old and helpless, the women and the children. Seventeen hundred victims were thrusf" from the town and driven towards the English lines by the Governor of Calais, who was reckless of the lives of the citizens so long as the sacrifice enabled him to hold out and gain a character for braveiy. It is easy for a military commander to win a reputation for extreme heroism if he is utterly regardless of the expense, and chooses to pay for it in the blood of those under his control ; but it is the duty of the CHAP. IV.] 6UHKENDER OF CALAIS. 175 historian to audit the accounts and justly strike the balance In looking into the case of John de Vienne we adjudge him guilty of fraudulent bankruptcy in his reputation, for he sought to establish himself in the good books of public opinion by trading on the lives of the citizens of Calais, which were his only capital. If he were now before us, we should assume the part of a commissioner, and should say to him, " Go, Sir. We cannot grant you your protection from the heavy responsibi- lities you incurred when you wasted human life which you were bound to preserve as far as you were able. You have violated a sacred., trust ; and we must therefore adjourn your further examination sine die, for it is quite impossible to grant you your certificate." As long as John de Vienne could find anything to eat, and could have his table tolerably well provided, he held out; but when starvation threatened himself as well as the citizens, he asked permission to capitulate Edward, annoyed by the obstinacy of the resistance, refused to come to any terms short of an unconditional surrender, but he at length consented to spare the town on condition of six burgesses coming forth naked in their shirts, with halters round their necks, and without anything on their legs, as a proof of their humiliation being utterly inexpressible. When John de Vienne was apprised of this resolution, he called a meeting in the market-place, and stated the hard condition which Edward had imposed, but the governor had not the heroism to propose to make one of the party required for the sacrifice. He was exceedingly eloquent in urging others to come forward, and was loud in his protestations that such an " eligible opportunity," such an "opening for spirited young men " would never occur again ; but the citizens turned a deaf ear to all his arguments. No one seemed inclined to set a noble example, but all the inhabitants gave way to a piteous fit of howling, until Eustace de St. Pierre, a rich burgess, drying his eyes and mopping up his emotion with the cuff of his coat, offered himself as the first victim. Five others followed his example, and the six heroes, taking off their trowsers, prepared to throw themselves into the breach, and slipping off their slippers, went barefooted into the presence of the conqueror. He eyed the miserable objects with malicious pleasure, and according to Froissart, insulted the unhappy burgesses by a series of grimaces, like those with which the clown accompanies the ironical inquhy of "How are you?" which he always addresses to his intended victim in a pantomime. The wrenched state of the burgesses shivering in their shirts — but not shaking in their shoes, for they were bare-footed— had a softening influence on all but Edward, who with a clownish yell of " I 've got you," desired that the headsman might be sent for immediately. The queen threw herself on her knees, and representing that she had never asked a favour of Edward in her life, entreated him to spare the trembling citizens. "Look at them!" exclaimed her Majesty, as she dragged one forward and turned him round and round to show what a miserable object ho was " Look at them ! and observe how piteously they implore mercy ; 176 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOGK III for though their tongues do not speak, their teeth are constantly chattering." Edward looked at his wife, and then at the citizens. " I wish," said he to the former, "that you had been somewhere else; but take the miserable beggars and do what you can with them." Philippa instantly took the coil of rope from the necks that were so nearly on the point of " shiiffling off the mortal coil,'* and told them to go and get rigged out in a suit of clothes each, which made the oldest of them observe that " the rigger of the queen was much less formidable than the rigour of the king, with which they had been so lately threatened." The imbecility to which fear had brought their minds is fearfully shadowed forth in this miserable piece of attempted pleasantry, and it was perhaps fortunate that Edward did not overhear a pun, the atrocity of which he might have been justified in never pardoning. The six citizens having received their dressing, in a more agreeable shape than they had expected, and having sat down to an excellent dinner, provided at the queen s expense, were dismissed with a present of six nobles each, that they might not be without money in their pockets. As they partook of the meal prepared for them, the wag of the party, whose vapid jokes had already endangered the lives of himself and his com- panions, ventured to observe that he should look upon the ordinary as one of the most extraordinary events in his life ; but as none of the king's servants were at hand to overhear the miserable jeu de mot, it was not followed by the fatal consequences we might otherwise have been compelled to chronicle. On the 3rd of August, 1347, Edward and his queen made their triumphant entry into Calais, which was transformed into an English colony; and as the residents at that early period were debtors to the generosity of the sovereign, the place has become a favourite resort for debtors even to the present moment. Edward having returned to England began to try the squeezability of his parliament, and got up various pretexts for demanding money. He pretended to ask advice about carrying on the w T ar with France, but the parliament suspecting his intention declined giving any answer to his message. He next had recourse to intimidation, by spreading a report that the French contemplated invasion ; and though it was little better than a cry of " Old Bogy," it had the desired effect. There is no doubi. that Edward was guilty of obtaining money under false pretences, for he and Philip had agreed between themselves for a truce, and yet each taxed his subjects under the pretence that war might be imminent. About the year 1344, according to some, but in the year 1350, on the authority of Stowe, the celebrated Order of the Garter was founded. If we may put faith in an old fable, it originated in the Countess of Salisbury having danced her stockings down at a court ball ; when trie king seeing her garter dangling at her heels, took hold of it and gave it to her, exclaiming, Honi soit qui rnal y pense, which was a cut at some females who pretended to be shocked at the incident. Their smothered CHAP. IV.] rHILIP DIES JOHN CONTINUES THE TRUCE. J77 exclamations of " Well, I 'm sure ! " " Upon my word ! " and " Well, really I never ! Did you ever ! " were thus playfully rebuked by Edward Origin of the Order of the Garter. the Third, who afterwards made the words we have quoted the motto of the Order. We need scarcely tell our readers in this enlightened age, that Honi soit qui mat y pense, is equivalent to saying that those M r ho see harm in an innocent act, derive from themselves all the evil that presents itself. Edward's old enemy Philip of France was now dead, but his son and successor, John, continued the truce, or renewed the accommodation bill, which was entered into for the purpose of stopping proceedings on either side. In state affairs as in pecuniary matters, these temporary arrangements are seldom beneficial, for they cause a frightful accumula- tion of interest, which must some time or other be paid off or wiped out tit a fearful sacrifice. ITS COinC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. The continental successes of the English king were marred by the trouble that Scotland gave to him, and he was often heard to say that '* though he could make the French poodle — by whom he meant the King of France — do as he pleased, he hated the constant barking at his heels of the Scotch terrier." He therefore determined on attempting to buy the country out and out. So, going over to Roxburgh, he asked Baliol point-blank what he would take for the whole concern, exactly as it stood, including the throne, the title-deeds of the kingdom, and the crown and sceptre. " Let me see ; what has it cost me ? " said Baliol, evidently contemplating a bargain; but Edward interrupting him with " A precious deal more than it is worth," somewhat modified the figure that was on the tip of the tongue of the Scotch sovereign. " Will fifty thousand marks be too much V " observed the vendor, with an anxious look; but Edward's rapid "Oh, good morning," instantly told the wary Scot the shrewdness of his customer. " Stop, stop," said Baliol, " I like to do business when I can. What will you give ? for I 'm really tired of the thing, and would be glad to accept any reasonable offer ? " Edward resumed his seat, made a few calculations on a scrap of vellum with a pocket stile, and then jumping up, exclaimed, " 1 11 tell you what I '11 do with you. 1 11 give you five thousand marks down, and an annuity of two thousand pounds per annum." The bargain was struck; with the title-deeds laden, Edward joyfully flew to his own country, and he had scarcely turned his back when " Adieu," said Baliol, "you are not the first humbug who, coming to cheat, have got cheated yourself." The fact was, that the Scotch- man, with characteristic cunning, got the best of the bargain; for the crown had been fearfully ill-used, the sceptre had got all the glitter worn off vy the hard rubs it had endured, and the throne would cost more to keep in substantial repair, than twice its value. Edward having bought up the country, began to exercise the right of ownership, by setting fire to little bits of it. He marched through the Lothians, where he met with loathing on every side, and set Haddington as well as Edinburgh in flames, which caused Scotland to be propheti- cally called the Land of Burns by a sage of the period. While the king was thus engaged at home, his son Edward, the Black Prince, so called from the colour of his armour, which he had blackleaded, to save the trouble of keeping it always bright, was occupied in France, where he fought and won the famous battle of Poictiers. The truce had, with the customary faithlessness of royalty in those days, been broken. Young Edward, having a small force, made a most earnest appeal to his army, and said something very insinuating about " his sinewy English bowmen." Before the commencement *of the battle, a diplomatist of the name of Talleyrand, who seems to have been worthy of his celebrated modern successor, rode from camp to camp trying to arrange the affair, and making himself very influential with both parties. John was, however, so confident in the superiority of his numbers, that he declined a com- CHAP. IV. J THE BATTLE OF POICTIERS. 179 promise except on the most humiliating terms to the Black Prince, who looked blacker than ever when the degrading proposition was made to him. On the 19th of September, 1356, the battle began with a duet played by two trumpets — one on each side — but this -did not last long, for neither party desired to listen to overtures. The French com menced the attack, but they came to the point a little too soon, for they actually ran upon the arrows of the English bowmen. The Constable of France tried to inspire courage into the troops on his side by roaring out " Mountjoy ! St Denis !" but a stalwart Briton, telling him to hold his noise, felled him to the ground. A strong body of reserve, who carried their reserve to downright timidity, fled without striking a blow. They had scarcely drawn their swords, and received the word of command to " cut away," when they did literally cut away, and having cut refused to come again. John of France flourished his battle-axe with ferocious courage ; but at last he received two tremendous blows in the face which brought him to the ground. His son Philip, a lad of sixteen, fought by his side, encouraging him with cries of " Give it 'em, father ! " which aroused the almost exhausted John, and caused him to recover his legs Every kind of verbal insults was offered to him by the enemy, and particularly by the Gascons, who indulged in a great deal of their usual gasconade. " Stand and surrender ! " cried a voice ; to which John replied, " If I could stand, I would not surrender, but I suppose I must fall into your hands." With this he tottered into a circle of English knights, by whom he was nearly torn to pieces in the scramble that arose for the royal captive. Some among the crowd of his victors endeavoured to induce his Majesty to place himself under their charge, and one or two began to talk to him in bad French, when Sir Denis, a real Frenchman, who had been dismissed from the service of his own country and entered that of England, addressed the monarch politely in his native tongue. John was in the act of offering up his glove to this gentleman as a token of surrender, when the royal gauntlet was torn to pieces by the surrounding knights, who all wanted to have a finger in it. Every one was eager to claim the French monarch, who seemed on the point of being torn to pieces like a hare by a pack of ill-bred hounds. " I took him," exclaimed fifty voices at once, when the Earl of Warwick, rushing into the front, thundered forth in a stentorian voice, " Can't you leave the man alone ! " and drawing Johns arm within his own, led off the conquered king to the camp of Edvmrd. Warwick took little Philip by the hand, and presented father and son to the Black Prince, who received them with much courtesy.* He invited them both to supper, waited on the French king at table, and soothed his grief with probably such kind expressions as " Poor old chap ! " " Never mind, old fellow ! " and other words of respectful sym- pathy. The Black Prince made them his companions to London, which they entered in the character of his prisoners, on the 24th of April, * Froissnrt. N 2 180 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK III. 1357. The pageant was very magnificent, the citizens hanging out their plate to do honour to the occasion ; and the windows were filled with spoons, just as they are when a modern Lord Mayor's show is to be seen within the city. Edward had now a couple of lungs in custody; Edward, the Black Prince, conducting ids Prisoner. but in November, 1357, one of them, David Bruce, was released, upon drawing a bill for 100,000 marks on his, Scotch subjects. There can CHAP. IV.] DEATH OF JOHN OF FBANCE. 181 be no doubt that the latter were regularly sold by their weak-minded monarch, who had become the mere creature of the English sovereign. John remained in captivity in London, while Edward carried the war into France ; but having got nearly as far as Paris, he was caught in a shower, which completely wet him down, and diluted all the spirit he had, up to that point, exhibited.* The wind was terrific ; but it was not one of those ill winds that blow nobody good, for the blow it inflicted on the courage of Edward made good for those he came to fight against. The French justly hailed the rain as a welcome visitor, for it completely softened Edward by regularly soaking him. On the 8th of May, 1360, peace was concluded, and John was set at large on condition of the payment of three million crowns of gold, which was rather a heavy sum for getting one crown restored to him. Some hostages were given for the fulfilment of the bargain ; but poor John fomid he had undertaken more than he could perform, and though he did not exactly stop payment, it was because he had never commenced that operation. He was exceedingly particular in money matters, and it annoyed him not to be able to fulfil his pecuniary arrangements. Some of his bail having bolted, he could bear the degradation no longer, and ho volun- tarily went over to London, where he put himself in prison, as a defaulter, though others say it was a love-affair in England, rather than his honesty as a debtor, which brought him up to town. The royal insolvent did not long survive, for he died in the month of April 1 364, at the Palace of the Savoy ; and it was tauntingly said of him by a contemporary buffoon, that the debt of nature was the only debt he had ever paid. The Black Prince, who had been created Duke of Aquitaine, governed for his father in the South of France, but was induced to espouse the cause of one Pedro, surnamed the Cruel, who, for his ferocious conduct: had been driven from the throne of Castile. Bertrand du Gueselin, a famous knight in his day, and Don Enrique, the illegitimate brother of the tyrant, had expelled him from his dominions, when the Black Prince, tempted by offers of an enormous salary, undertook to restore Pedro to his position. Edward fought and conquered, but could not get paid for his services ; and, as he had undertaken the job by contract, employing an army of mercenaries at his own risk, he was harassed to death by demands for which he had made himself liable. Captains were continually calling to know when he intended to settle that little matter, until he got tired of answering that it was not quite convenient just now ; and he that had never turned his back upon an enemy, ran away as hard as he could from the importunity of his creditors. Pedro, abandoned by his chief supporter, agreed to a conference with his half brother Enrique ; but cruelty seems to have been a family failing, for the couple had scarcely met when they fell upon each other with the fury of wild beasts, and Pedro the Cruel was stabbed by Enrique the Crueller, who threw himself at once upon the throne. f * Froissart, Knyght, Ryraer, and Company. f Froissart. — Mariana. 1 82 COMIC HISTORY O^ ENGLAND. [BOOK III. Charles of France now thought that the harassed mind and declining health of the Black Prince afforded an eligible opportunity of attacking him. His Royal Highness resisted as well as he could ; but he was so exceedingly indisposed that he was carried about on a litter from post to post, as if he had been compelled to rest at the corner of every street through sheer exhaustion. He marched, or rather was jolted, towards Limages, the capital of the Limousin, which he stormed in two places at once ; and at the sight of the pair of breaches he had made, the women fled in inexpressible terror and confusion. His conduct to these poor defenceless creatines was merciless in the extreme ; and this one incident in the life of the Black Prince is sufficient to give to his name all the blackness that is attached to it. Some allowance may, however, be perhaps made for the state of his health, which now took him to England to recruit — not in a military but in a physical sense — but it was too late, for he died at Canterbury, on the 8th of January, 1376, to the great regret of his father, who only kept the respect of the people through his son's popularity. Edward III. had been for some time leading a very disreputable life, and had been captivated by one Alice Perrers, to whom he had given the jewels of the late queen, and who had the effrontery to wear them when abroad in the public thoroughfares. Among other freaks of his dotage was a tournament which he gave in Smithfield — the origin, no doubt, of the once famous Bartholomew Fair — where Alice Perrers figured in a triumphal chariot, as the Lady of tie Sun, the king himself appearing in the character of the Sun, though it was the general remark that, as the couple sat side by side, the Sun looked old enough to be the father. It was towards the close of this reign that Wycliffe, the celebrated precursor of Huss, Luther, and Calvin, as well as the curser of popery, began preaching against the abuses of the Catholic clergy. His cause was espoused by the Duke of Lancaster, who had been in power since the death of the Black Prince, and who is said to have taken Wycliffe 's part so ardently, as to have threatened to drag the Bishop of London by the hair of his head out of St. Paul's Cathedral. Considering that the priest was all shaven and shorn, it would have been difficult for Lancaster to have carried out his threat by tugging out the bishop in the manner specified. It i3 a curious fact that this alleged attack on one of the heads of the church was soon followed by a general burden on the national poll, in the shape of a poll-tax, which was imposed to provide for the renewal of the war, as the truce in existence was on the point of expiring. Edward had now become old and miserable ; for having done nothing to gain the affection of others, he was abandoned at the close of his life, by even the members of his own family. One or two sycophants clung to him, in the hope of getting something ; but his children had all separate interests of their own, for the cold and selfish conduct of their parent had driven them quite away from him. He endeavoured to with the words, " I say, Uncle, do you know how old I am?" " Of course I do," replied Gloucester, a little puzzled at the oddness of the question ; " you are in your twenty- second year ; and a fine boy you are of your age," continued the crafty Duke ; " but why so particular about Uichard thinks it high time he managed his own affairs. dates at the present moment?" "Because," replied the king, "I've been thinking, if I 'in not old enough to manage my own affairs now, I never shall be." An expression of "hoity toity ! " came into the countenance of the duke ; but Richard continued, with much earnestness, that all the youDg men of his age were released from the control of their guardians, and he did not see why he should any longer be kept morally in pinafores. With this he thanked the council for their past services, which, however, he declared he should no longer require. Before there was time to prevent him, he had snatched the seals from the Archbishop, and seized the bunch of keys from the Bishop of Hereford. Everybody was completely dumfoundered by this exhibition on the part of a lad who had never before been known to do more than stammer out a bashful "bo ! " to some goose he may have met with in his youthful wanderings. Gloucester CHAP. V.] AKEEST OF THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 191 was driven from the council, and the whole thing was done hefore any one present had time — or if he had time he certainly omitted the oppor- tunity — to say " Jack Robinson." An affecting reconciliation afterwards took place between Gloucester and the king; but we believe the recon- ciliation itself to have been more affected than the parties who were concerned in it. Richard had soon afterwards the misfortune to lose his wife ; and in 1394 he went over to Ireland with a considerable army, but, as it would seem, less for the purpose of making war than making holiday. The English king never struck a blow, and the Irish did not resist, so that the whole affair was a good deal like that portion of the performance of Punch, in which one party is continually bobbing down his head, while the other is furiously implanting blows on vacancy. Richard entertained the Irish with great magnificence, and at one of the banquets said the evening was so pleasant he wished he could make several knights of it. Some of the guests taking up the idea, persuaded him to make several knights by knighting them, which he did with the utmost affability. Richard did not remain very long a widower, for in October 1396 he married Isabella the daughter of Charles VI., an infant prodigy, for she was scarcely more than seven, though a prodigy, according to Frois- sart, of wit and beauty. Our private opinion — which we do not hesitate to make public — is that there must have been some mistake about the infant's age, and that the parents and nurses of that period were not so particular in proving registers and records of birth as they might, could, or should have been. The wit of a child of seven must have been fearfully forced to have been so early developed ; and in spite of the tendency there has always been to exaggerate the merits of royalty, we respectfully submit that the J 'acetic of a child of seven must have been of the very smallest description. The king, who had never been cordially reconciled to Gloucester, was annoyed by the opposition of the latter to the royal marriage, and resolved on striking a blow at his uncle as well as at one or two of his chief partisans. Richard's plan was to ask people to dinner, and in the middle of one of the courses, give a signal to a sheriff's officer, who was concealed under the table-cloth, from which he sprang out and arrested the visitor. He served the Earls of Warwick and Arundel one after the other in this way, having invited them each in turn to a chop, which it was designed that they should eventually get through the agency of a hatchet.* His uncle Gloucester was not to be caught in this way, and declined several invitations to a tete-a-tete, when Richard, determined to accom- plish his object, went to Bleshy Castle in Essex, where his uncle was residing. " As you won't come to see, me, I Ve come to see you," were the king's artful words, when he was naturally invited to partake of that fortune du pot which is the ever-ready tribute of English hospitality While Richard was doing the amiable with the Duchess, Gloucester, * This must not be confounded with an old legend, that he asked his friends occasion- ally to a chop at Hatchett's — the well known hotel in Piccadill)'. 192 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. the Duke, was seized by one of the bailiffs in the s^ite— disguised, of course, as a gentleman of the household — and hurried to the Essex shore, where he was shoved off in a boat, and conveyed, almost before he could fetch his breath, to Calais. It was the practice of Richard to do things by fits and starts ; so that he accomplished an object very often by getting people to aid him with- out knowing exactly what they were about, in consequence of the sud- denness with which he claimed their services. A few days after poor Gloucester had been " entered outwards" for Calais, the king went to Nottingham Castle, where, taking his uncles Lancaster and York by surprise, he pulled out a document, requesting them to favour him with their autographs. They could not very well refuse a request so strangely made, and it eventually turned out that they had put their names to a bill of indictment against Gloucester, Warwick, and Arundel. A Par- liament was called to try the traitors, who were condemned, as a matter of course ; for Richard, walking into the house with six hundred men-at-arms and a body guard of archers, was pretty sure of a large majority. Arundel was beheaded, and a writ was issued against Gloucester, commanding him to return from Calais, to undergo the same disagreeable process. Fortunately, or unfortunately for the duke, he was dead before the writ could be served ; but the Parliament, though they could not kill him twice over, indulged the satisfaction of declaring him a traitor after his decease, by which all his property became forfeited. This proceeding was a good deal like robbing the dead ; but it was by no means con- trary to the spirit of the period. Warwick pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment in the Isle of Man — a sort of lucus a non lucendo, which was called the Isle of Man from there being scarcely a man to be seen in the place from one week's end to the other. The peculiar richness of this reign consists in the historical doubts, of which it is so full that the chroniclers are thrown into a state of pleasing bewilderment. Nobody knows what became of Gloucester while in captivity at Calais ; and therefore every writer is at liberty to dispose of the Duke in any manner that may tempt an imagination in- clining to riot and rampancy. The treatment of his Royal Highness oecomes truly dreadful in the hands of the various antiquarians and others who have undertaken to deal with him. By one set of authori- ties he is strangled, in accordance with the alleged orders of the king ; others kill him of apoplexy ; a few poison him ; ten or a dozen drown him , six or seven smother him ; but all agree in the fact that he was surreptitiously settled. We are the only faithful recorders of the real fact, when we state upon our honour that nobody knows the manner of the duke's death, which is involved in the dense fogs of dim obscurity. Into these we will not venture, lest we lose our own way and mislead the reader who may pay us the compliment of committing himself to our guidance. CHAP. V.] NORFOLK AND HEREFORD BANISHED. 193 Richard having got rid of Gloucester, was anxious for the removal of Norfolk and Hereford, whom he involved in a quarrel with each other, intending that they should realise the legend of the Cats of Kilkenny. When, however, they had entered the lists to decide their dispute by wager of battle, Richard thought it better to run no risk of either of them escaping, and he therefore sentenced both to banishment. Poor Norfolk, a pudding-headed fellow, who might have gone by the name of the Norfolk Dumpling, was soft enough to die of grief at Venice, on his road to Jerusalem, whither he contemplated a pilgrimage. Hereford remained in France, having been promised a pardon, but as it did not arrive he took French leave to return to England, in 1399, after scarcely more than a year's absence. His retinue was so small as to be utterly ridiculous, for it consisted of one exiled archbishop, fifteen knights, and a small lot of servants, who may be put down as sundries in the little catalogue. One fool, however, makes many, and one rebellious earl was soon joined by a number of other seditious nobles The plan of Hereford was that of the political quack who pretends to have a specific for every disease by which the constitution is affected. He published a puffing manifesto declaring that he had no other object but the redress of grievances, and that the crown, was the very last thing to which his thoughts were directed. One of his confederates to whom Hereford was reading the rough draft of his proposed address, suggested that the disclaimer of the crown which it contained, might prove inconvenient, when the royal diadem was really obtainable. " Don't you see," replied the crafty Hereford with a smile, " I have not compromised myself m any way. I have only said it is the last thing to which my thoughts are directed, and so indeed it is, for I think of it the last thing at night as well as the first thing in the morning." Thus with the salve of speciousness, did the wily earl soothe for a time the irritations of his not very tender conscience. The manifesto had its effect, for it is a remarkable fact that they who promise more than it is possible to perform, find the greatest favour with the populace; for an undertaking to do what cannot be done always affords something to look forward to. Expectation is generallj disappointed by fulfilment, and the most successful impostors are con .sequently those who promise the most impracticable things without evei doing anything. The imposition cannot be detected until the impossi- bility of the thing promised is demonstrated ; and this does not often happen, for the difficulty of proving a negative is on all hands admitted. It was therefore a happy idea of Hereford, as a political adventurer, to promise a redress of every grievance ; and if he could have added to his pledge of interference de omnibus rebus an assurance of his ultimately applying his panacea to qucedam alia, there is little doubt that he would have been even more successful than he was in augmenting the number of his followers. By the time he reached London he had got sixty thousand men of all sorts and sizes about him, for the people in those days were fond of o 194 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. changing their leaders, and Hereford was popular as the latest novelty. The Duke of York — the king's uncle — moved to the West-end, as Henry and his forces entered at the East ; but Henry of Bolingbroke — alias Hereford, who was also the nephew of York — invited the latter to a conference. After talking the matter over, the worthy couple agreed Henry of Bolingbroke and the Duke of York transacting business. to a coalition ; the conduct of York being very like that of an individual left to guard a house, and joining with the thief who came to rob the premises. Kichard, who was in Ireland, knew nothing of what was passing at home, for in consequence of contrary winds, the non-arrival of " our usual express " was for three weeks a standing announcement with all the organs of intelligence. When he received the news from his " own reporter," he started for Milford Haven, where he was almost over- whelmed with disagreeable information from gentlemen who evinced the genius of true penny-a-liners in making the very most and the very worst of every calamitous incident. Eichard's soldiers seeing that their king more than ever required their fidelity and aid, immediately, accord- ing to the usual practice, ran away from him " They deserted," says CHAP. Y.J FLIGHT OF RICHARD. 195 the Chronicler, " almost to a man," and it is to be regretted that we have not the name of the " man " who formed the nearly solitary exception to the general apostacy. Whoever he may have been, he must have exercised a great deal of self-command, for he was of course his own officer ; he must have reviewed himself, as well as gone through the ceremony of putting himself on duty, and taking himself off at the proper periods. We must not, however, take too literally the calcula- tions of the old chroniclers, who reduce the number of Richard's adherents to an almost solitary soldier, for the truth appears to be, that the king mustered almost six thousand men out of the twenty thousand he had brought with him from Ireland. Flight was therefore his only refuge, and selecting from his stock of fancy dresses the disguise of a priest, Richard, accompanied by his two half-brothers, Sir Stephen Scroop the Chancellor, and the Bishop of Carlisle, with nine other followers, set off for the Castle of Conway. There he met the Earl of Salisbury and a hundred men, who had eaten every morsel of food to be found in the place, and Richard was occupied in running backwards and forwards from Conway to Beaumaris, then on to Carnarvon, then back to Conway again, in a wretched race for a dinner. It is pitiable to find a king of England reduced to the condition des- cribed in the old nursery ditty. He went to Conway for provisions ; but — " When he got there The cuphoard was hare ; " and the same result followed his journey to Beaumaris and Carnarvon. Notwithstanding the number of bones that his subjects had to pick with him, there was not one in the larders of the three castles he visited. "And so," in the emphatic words of the nursery rhyme, "the poor dog had none." So complete was the desertion of Richard, that the Master of the Household, Percy, Earl of Worcester, called all the servants together, and broke his wand of office, accompanying the act by exclaiming — "Now, I'm off to Chester, to join the Duke of Lancaster." This ceremony was equivalent to a discharge of all the domestics under him, and the king, had he returned to his abode, would have been com- pelled to " do for himself " in consequence of the disbanding of all his menials. The members of the establishment, fancying they had an opportunity of bettering themselves, did not hesitate to follow the example of their chief, and there is no doubt that a long list, headed want places, was at once forwarded to the Duke of Lancaster. Having ransacked every corner of Conway Castle without finding any provisions, Richard had nothing left, but an uirprovisional surrender. He got as far as Flint Castle, which was only three miles from Chester; but he found the inhabitants had flinty hearts, and he met with no sympathy. Henry of Bolingbroke came to meet him, when Richard, touching his hat, bid welcome to his " fair cousin of Lancaster." "My lord," replied Henry somewhat sarcastically, " I 'm a little before my time, but really your people complain so bitterly of your not having the knack to rale them, that I 've come to help you." Richard gave a 196 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK 111. mental " umph," but added, " Well, well, be it as you will ;" for his hunger had taken away all his appetite for power. After a repast, unto which the king did much more ample justice than he had ever done to his subjects, a hackney was sent for, and Richard rode a prisoner to Chester. No one pitied him as he passed, though the spectacle was Richard II. conducted a prisoner to Chester. a truly wretched one. The horse was a miserable hack, while Richard himself was hoarse with a hacking cough, caught in the various expo- sures to wind and weather he had undergone in his vicissitudes. The dismal cortege having put up at Litchfield, for the king and his horse to have a feed, of which both were greatly in want, Richard made a desperate attempt, while the waiter was not in the room, to escape out of a window. He had run a little way from his guards, but a cry of " Stop thief " caused him to be instantly pursued, and when taken he was well shaken, for the trouble he had occasioned. He was treated with increased severity, and on arriving in London was conveyed amid the hootings of the mob to the Tower. Parliament had been appointed to meet on the Q9th of September. 1399, and on that day Richard received in his prison a deputation, to whom he handed over the crown and the other insignia of royalty. Not CHAP. V.] RICHARD SIGNS HIS ABDICATION. 197 satisfied with the delivery of the sceptre as a proof of the king's abdica- tion, a wish was expressed to have it in writing, and he signed, aa well as resigned, without a murmur. His enemies had, in fact, deter- mined on his downfall, and they seemed anxious to he prepared at all points for dragging the throne from under him. In order to make assurance doubly or trebly sure, an act of accusation against him was brought before Parliament on the following day, when Richard's conduct was complained of in thirty-three, or as some authorities have it, thirty- five * separate articles. There is no doubt that Richard had behaved badly enough, but the articles, taking the definite and indefinite together, attributed to him a great deal more than he had really been guilty of. His punishment having taken place before his trial, it was of course necessary, for the sake of making matters square, that the offence should be made to meet the penalty. Had he been tried first and judged afterwards, a different course might have been taken, but as he had already been deposed, it was desirable — if only for the look of the thing — that he should be charged with something which would have warranted the Parliament in passing upon him a sentence of deposition. Upwards of thirty articles were therefore drawn up, for the great fact that in laying it on thick some is almost sure to stick, was evidently well known to our ancestors He was charged with spending the revenues of the crown improperly, and choosing bad ministers, though he might have replied that bad had been the best, and that he and Hobson were, with reference to choice, in about the same predicament. He was accused, also, of making war upon the Duke of Gloucester, as well as on the Earls of Lancaster and Chester, to which he might have responded that they began it, and that it was only in his own defence he had treated them as enemies. It was alleged against him, also, that he had borrowed money and never paid it back again ; but surely this has always been a somewhat common offence, and one which the aristocracy should be the last persons in the world to treat with severity. In one article he was charged with not having changed the sheriffs often enough, and, as if to allow him no chance of escape, another article imputed to him that he had changed the sheriffs too frequently. Some of the counts in the indictment were utterly frivolous, and the twenty-third stated that he had taken the crown jewels to Ireland, as if he could not legally have done what he pleased with his own trinket-box. It must be presumed that Richard allowed judgment to go by default, for all the accusations were declared to be proved against him. If he had been assisted by a special pleader, he might have beaten his accusers hollow on demurrer, for many of the counts in the declaration were, in legal phraseology, utterly incapable of holding water.f Not- * The Pictorial History of England, which is generally very accurate, mentions thirty-three articles. Rapin sets out the substance of thirty-one of the articles, and adds that there were four others. *t« Mackintosh, who keeps the facts always very dry, seems inclined to our opinion that the indictment would not have held water. 198 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. withstanding the weakness of the articles, they were not attacked by any one in Parliament except the Bishop of Carlisle, who, in a miserable minority of one, formed the entire party of his sovereign. The vener- able prelate, in a powerful speech, talked of Richard's tyranny, including his murder of Gloucester, as mere youthful indiscretion ; and described his excessive use of the most arbitrary power, as the exuberance of gaiety. The Bishop's freedom of speech was fatal to his freedom of person ; for he was instantly ordered into custody by the Duke of Lan- caster. No one followed on the same side as the prelate, whose removal to prison had the effect of checking any tendency to debate, and the articles were, of course, agreed to without a division. Sen- tence of deposition was accordingly passed on the king, who had been already deposed, and the people of England revoked all the oaths and homage they had sworn to their sovereign. Such, indeed, was tho determination of his subjects to overturn their king, that his deposition was not unlike the practical joke of drawing the throne literally from A Practical Jok&. Deposition of Richard II. under him. They knew he had not a leg to stand upon, and they seemed determined that he should not have a seat to sit down upon ; for even established forms were overturned in order to precipitate his downfall . CHAP. V.] CHAEACTER OF RICHARD 199 What became of Richard after his having been deposed, is a point upon which historians have differed ; but the favourite belief is, that he was cut off with an axe by one of his gaolers at Pomfret Castle, where he was kept in custody. Some are of opinion that he was starved, and died rather from want of a chop than by one having been administered. Mr. Tytler believes that the unfortunate ex-monarch escaped to Scot- land, where he resided for twenty years ; but the story is doubtful, for even in Scotland it is impossible to live upon nothing, which would have been the income of Richard after his exclusion from the royal dignity. When we come to weigh this sovereign in the scale, we can scarcely allow him to pass without noticing his deficiency. He seems to have had originally a due amount of sterling metal, but the warmth of adula- tion melted away much of the precious ore, as a sovereign is frequently diminished in value by sweating. To this deteriorating influence may be added that of the clipping process, to which he was subjected by his enemies, who were bent on curtailing his power. He had by nature a noble and generous disposition, which might have made him an excellent monarch. But our business is with what he really was, and not with what he might have been. He was alternately cowardly and tyrannical, in conformity with the general rule — applicable even to boys at school — that it is the most contemptible sneak towards the stronger who is towards the weaker the fiercest bully Wholesome resistance tames him down into the sneak again, and in pursuance of this ordinary routine, Richard from an overbearing tyrant, became a crouching poltroon, when his enemies got the upper hand of him. It was during this reign that the authority of the pope was vigor- ously disputed in England, chiefly at the instigation of John Wickliffe, who denied many of the doctrines of the church of Rome, and protested against its supremacy. Its influence was, moreover, weakened by its being in some sort " a house divided." Avignon had been for some time the papal residence, but the Italian cardinals having persuaded the pontiff to return to Rome, the French cardinals set up a sort of opposition pope, who continued to live at Avignon. Urban did the honours with great urbanity in the Eternal City, while Clement carried on the papal business at the old establishment in France, and Europe became divided between the Clementines and Urbanists. These two sects of Christians continued to denounce each other to eternal perdition for some years, and their trial of strength seemed to consist chiefly in a competition as to which could execrate the other with the greatest bitterness. This dissension was no doubt favourable to the views of Wickliffe, who, like other great reformers, renounced in his old age the liberal doctrines by which he had obtained his early popularity. We have alluded in the course of this chapter to a combat which was about to take place between the Earls of Hereford and Norfolk, in pur- suance of the practice of Wager of Battle, which was in those days pre- 200 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III valent. It may seem unjust and ridiculous to the present generation, that the strongest arm or stoutest spear should have settled a legal dif ference, hut even in our own times it is frequently the longest purse which determines the issue of a law-suit. The only difference is that litigants formerly knocked about each other's persons instead of making their assaults upon each others pockets, and the legal phrase, that "so and so is not worth powder and shot," preserves the allegory of a combat, to which an action at law may be compared with the utmost propriety. There has always been something chivalric in entering upon the perilous enter- prise of litigation, and we are not surprised that the forensic champions of England should have been originally an order of Knights Templars. The only military title which is still left to the legal corps is that of Sergeant, and the black patch in the centre of their heads is perhaps worn in memory of some wound received by an early member of their order in the days of Wager of Battle. The sword of justice may also be regarded as emblematical of the hard fight that is frequently required on the part of those who seek to have justice done to them by the laws of their country. Contemporaneously with the Wager of Battle, there was introduced during the reign of Henry II a sort of option, by which suitors who were averse to single combat, might support their rights by the oaths of twelve men of the vicinage. Thus it was possible for those who were- afraid of hard hitting to have recourse to hard swearing, if they could get twelve neighbours to take the oath that might have been required. These persons were called the Grand Assize, and formed the jurors — a word, as everybody knows, derived from the Latin juro, to swear — but the duty has since been transferred from the jury to the witnesses, who not unfrequently swear quite as hard as the most unscrupulous of our ancestors. We have seen that there were very few improvements in the reign of Bichard II. ; but we think we may justly say of the sovereign, that though: he did no good to his country, yet, in the well-known words of a contem- porary writer, " He would if he could, but he could'nt " CHAP VI.] DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. SOI CHAPTER THE SIXTH. ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE. efore entering on the fourth book of our history, we may perhaps be allowed to pause, for the purpose of taking a retrospective glance at the condition, customs, candle- sticks, sports, pastimes, pitchers,, mugs, jugs and manners of the people. It is curious to trace the progress of art, from the coarse pipkin of the early Briton to the highly respectable tankard * found in the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey, which proves the teeth of the monks to have been decidedly liquorish. We must not however plunge prematurely into the pot of a more polished era : but we must go regularly back to the earthen- ware of our earliest ancestors. The furniture of the Britons was substantial rather than elegant. A round block of wood formed their easiest chair, which, we need hardly say, was easier to make than to sit upon. The earth served the purpose of a bed, not only -for the parsley but for the people ; and in winter they made fires on the floor, till the Romans, who brought slavery in one hand, gave the brasier with the other. Thus did even subjugation tend to civilisation, and the very chains of the conqueror contained links for the enlightenment of the conquered. The diet of the Britons was as poor as their apartments, and consisted chiefly of wild berries, wild boars, and bisons. We have no record of their cookery, and it is doubtful whether they cooked at all, though some antiquarians have endeavoured to find evidence of a stew, a roast or a curry, and have ended after all in -making a mere hash of it. In clothes the Britons were by no means strait-laced, though their intercourse with the Gauls was of inexpressible advantage to them, for it introduced the use of Braccse, or trowsers made of fine wool woven in stripes or chequers. \ Of the domestic habits of the early tenants of our isle very little is- * The tankard has no name distinctly bitten into it. *f It is probable that we get out our own word braces from the Braces of our forefathers- 202 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. known, and we regret to say there can be little doubt they might most of them have been indicted for polygamy had they lived under our present system of laws, for a plurality of wives was in those days nothing singular. Their mode of bringing up children is wrapt in obscurity, but the treatment, if we are to believe a story told by Salinus,* was rather less tender than vigorous ; for the first morsel of food was put into the infant's mouth on the point of his father's sword, with the hope that the child would turn out as sharp a blade as his parent. The Saxons brought very material improvements to the mode of living in our island, though we cannot compliment them on the comfort of all their upholstery. Their chairs were a good deal like our camp-stools, without the material which forms the seat ; for the Anglo-Saxons were satisfied to sit in the angle formed by the j miction of the legs of the article alluded to. The drinking-cups in use at this period began to be very elaborate, and were made of gold or silver, while glass was a luxury unknown, though the venerable Bede, who had a good deal of glass in his family, mentions lamps and vessels of that material. The Anglo-Saxons had beds and bolsters ; but from illustrations we have seen in the Cotton MS., we think that if, as they made their beds, so they were obliged to lie, our ancestors could not have slept very pleasantly. Some of the Saxon bedsteads were sexagonal boxes, into which it was impossible to get, without folding one's self up into the form of an S ; and another specimen is in the shape of an inverted cocked hat, somewhat smaller than the person by whom it is occupied Nothing but a sort of human half-moon could have found accommodation in this semilunar cradle, in which to have been " cribbed, cabined, and confined," could not have been very agreeable. Costume could scarcely be considered to have commenced before the Anglo-Saxon period, for the Britons persevered in a style of undress which was barely respectable. It is therefore most refreshing to find our countrymen at last with stockings to their feet and shirts to their backs, in which improved case they are to be met with in the Anglo- Saxon period. The shoe also stands boldly forward at about the same time, and shows an indication of that polish which was eventually to take a permanent footing. Amid the many irons that civilisation had in the fire at this date, are the curling-irons for ladies' hair, which began to take a favourable turn during the Anglo-Saxon period. The armour worn by the military part of the population was very substantial, con sisting chiefly of scales, which gave weight to the soldiery, and often turned the balance in their favour. This species of defence was, however, too expensive for the common men, who generally wore a linen thorax or " dickey," with which they offered a bold front to the enemy. It would be exceedingly difficult to give an accurate account of Anglo- Saxon life, for there are no materials in existence out of which a statement could be framed ; and though some historians do not object * Pictorial History of England, vol I., Book I., Chapter vi., page 129. CHAP. VI.l DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. •203 to have "their own materials made up," we should be ashamed to have recourse to this species of literary tailoring. We think it better to cut our coat according to our cloth ; and we had rather figure in the sparest Spencer of fact, than assume the broadest and amplest cloak, if it were made of a yam spun from the dark web of ambiguity. What we say, we know, and what we are ignorant of, we know much better than to talk about. The Anglo-Saxon husbandman was little better than a serf who was paid for his labour by the land- owner; but the former furnished the base, without which there would have been no locus standi for the latter's capital. It was customary in those days to encourage the peasantry by prizes, which did not consist of a coat for a faithful servitude of nearly a life, but a grant of a piece of the land to which the labourer had given in- creased value by his industiy. The proprietors of the soil had not yet learned the wisdom of trying how much a brute could be made to eat, and how little a human being could exist upon. With reference to the domestic habits of the period, it has been clearly ascertained that people of substance took four meals a day, and as they took meat at every one, their substance can be no matter of astonishment. The Britons had not been in the habit of dressing their food, which is not surprising, for they scarcely dressed themselves ; but the Anglo-Saxons were not so fond of the raw material. With them the pleasures of the table were carried to excess, and drinking went to such an extent, that every monk was prohibited from taking any more when his eyes were disturbed, and his tongue began to stammer. The misfortune, however, was, that as all who were present at a banquet, generally began to experience simul- taneously a disturbance of the eye and a stammering of the tongue, no one noticed it in his neighbour, and the orgies were often continued until the stammering ended in silence, and the optical derangement finished by the closing of the organs of vision. The chase was a popular amusement with the Anglo-Saxons, but it does not seem to have been pursued with much spirit, if we are to believe an illustration from the Cotton M.S.* of the practice of boar-hunting Two men and one dog are seen hunting four boars, who are walking leisurely two and two, while the hound and the hunters are hanging back, * Julius, A. 7. Anglo-Saxon Husbandman. 204 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IIL as if afraid to follow their prey too closely. In another picture, from the Harleian MS., seven men are seen huddled together on horseback, as if they had all fainted at the sight of a hawk, who flaps his wings in solently in their faces. Nothing indeed can be more pusillanimous than the sports of the Anglo-Saxons as shown in the illustrations of the period. The only wonder is, that the animals hunted did not turn suddenly round and make sport of the sportsmen. The condition of the great body of the people was that of agricultural labourers, who, it is said, were nearly as valuable to their employers or owners as the cattle, and were taken care of accordingly. In this res- pect they had an advantage over the cultivators of the soil in our own time, who remain half unfed, while pigs, sheep, and oxen, are made too much of by constant cramming. The Normans added little to the stock of English furniture, for wo have looked through our statistical tables and find nothing that would furnish an extra leaf to our history. It is, however, about this time that we find the first instance of a cradle made to rock, an arrangement founded on the deepest philosophy ; for by the rocking movement the infant is prepared for the ups and downs of life he will soon have to bear up against. The reign of John introduces us to the first salt-cellar on record, though, by the way, the first vinegar cruet is of even earlier date, for it is contemporary with the sour- tempered Eleanor, who is reported to have- played a fearful game at bowls with the unfortunate Rosamond. When Fashion first came to prevail in dress, Taste had not yet arrived, and the effect was truly ridiculous. It does not follow, however, that if Fashion and Taste had existed together, they would have managed to agree ; for though there is often a happy union between the two, they very frequently remain at variance for considerable periods. Fashion being the stronger, usually obtains the ascendancy in the first instance ; but Taste ultimately prevails over her wayward rival. In nothing so- much as in shoes, have the freaks of Fashion been exemplified. She has often taken the feet in hand, and in a double sense subjugated the understanding of her votaries. In the days of Henry I. shoes were worn in a long peak, or curling like a ram's hom, and stuffed with tow, as if the natural toe was not sufficient for all reasonable purposes. The rage for long hair was so excessive that councils * were held on the subject, and the state of the crops was considered with much anxiety. The clergy produced scissors at the end of the service to cut the hair o£ the congregation ; and it is said of Serlo d'Abon, the Bishop of Seez, that he, on Easter day 1105, cut every one of the locks off Henry I.'s knowledge-box. We have hinted at the out-of-door amusements of the people, but those pursued within doors may deserve some passing notice. The juggler, the buffoon, and the tumbler were greatly in request, and we see in these persons the germ of the wizards, the Eamo Samees, the * At Limoges, in 1031, by Pope Gregory VII. in 1073, and at Rouen in 3095. CHAP. VI.] DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. 205 clowns, with their " Here we ares," and the various families of Indian rubber incredibles, Mackintosh marvels, or Kensington untrustables, that have since become in turns the idols of an enlightened British public. That there is nothing new under the sun, nor in the stars— - at least those belonging to the drama — is obvious enough to any one who will examine the records of the past, which contain all that are declared to be the novelties of the present. Learned monkeys, highly-trained horses, and — to go a little further back — terrific combats, or sword dances, in which deadly foes go through mortal conflicts in a pas de deux, are all as old as the hills, the dales, the vales, the mountains, and the fountains. Even the reading easel — for those who wish to read easily — which was advertised but yesterday, and patented the other day, was a luxury in use as early as the fourteenth century. Even Polka jackets, imported from Cracow in Poland, were "very much worn," and, for what we know, the Polka itself may have been danced in all its pristine purity. In head-dresses we have seen nothing very elegant, for, during Eichard II. 's reign, a yard or two of cloth, cut into no regular pattern, formed a bonnet or hood for a lady, while an arrangement in fur very like a muff, constituted the hat of a gentleman. Out-of-door sports were much in favour during the fourteenth century, and the priesthood were so much addicted to the pleasures of the chace, Fox-hunting Bishop of the Period. &G6 COMIC HISTORY OF ENOLAND [BOOK III. that a clergyman was prohibited from keeping a dog for hunting unless he had a benefice of at least ten pounds per annum. The fox-hunting parson is therefore a character as old as the days of Eichard II., in whose reign the Bishop of Ely was remarkable for activity in the field, where the right reverend prelate could take a difficult fence with the youngest and best of them. He was particularly active in hunting the wolf, and he often said jestingly, that the interests of his flock prompted him to pursue its most formidable enemy. We have seen what our ancestors were in their habits, pleasures, and pursuits, none of which differed very materially from those that the people of the present generation are or have been in the habit of fol- lowing. As the child is father of the man, the infancy of a country is the parent of its maturity. Reproduction is, after all, the nearest approach we can make to novelty, and though in the drama of life " each man in his time plays many parts," there is scarcely one of which he an be called the original representative. BOOK IV. THE PERIOD FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. TO THE END OF THE REIGN OF RICHARD III., a.d. 1399—1485. CHAPTER THE FIRST. HENRY THE FOURTH, SURNAMED BOLINGBROIvE . he wily Henry had now got the whip hand of his enemies, and had grasped the reins of government. He ascended the throne on the 30th of September, "3^7 1399, and began to avail himself at once of the patronage at his disposal, by filling up as fast as he could all vacant offices. His pretext for this speed was to prevent justice from being delayed, to the grievance of his people ; and by pretending that there was no time to elect a new parliament, he continued the old one, which was in a state of utter subservience to his own purposes. At the meeting of the legislative as- sembly, which took place on the 6th of October, Thomas Arundel, the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, made " the speech of the day," which was a power- ful panegyric on the new sovereign. There is no doubt that the whole oration was a paid-for puff, of which the primacy was the price, for the prelate had been restored by Henry to the archiepiscopacy, out of which Richard had hurried him. The new candidate for the crown gave three reasons for claiming it ; but when a person gives three reasons for anything, it is probable they are all bad, for if one were good, the other two would be, of course, superfluous He declared his triple right to be founded, first on conquest, which was the right of the ruffian who, having knocked a man on the head, steals his purse and runs off with it ; secondly, from being the heir, which he was not ; and thirdly, from the crown having been resigned to him, 208 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. ■which it certainly had been, when the resigning party was under duress, and when his acts were not legally binding. Upon these claims he asked the opinion of Parliament, which having been cleverly packed by Arundel and his whippers-in, of course pronounced unanimously in Henry s favour. Upon this he vaulted nimbly on to the steps of the throne, and pausing before he took his seat, he cried out in a loud voice, " Do you mean what you say ? " when the clacqeurs raised such a round of applause that, whispering to one of his supporters, " It 's all right," he flung himself on to the regal ottoman. Another round of applause from the privileged orders secured the success of the farce, and the usual puffing announcements appeared in due course, intimating the unanimous approbation of a house crowded to suffocation. This had been certainly the case, for the packing was so complete as to stifle every breath of free discussion. A week's adjournment took place, to prepare for the coronation, which came off on the 13th of October, in a style of splendour which Froissart has painted gorgeously with his six-pound brush, and which we will attempt to pick out with our own slender camels-hair. On the Saturday before the coronation, forty-six squires, who were to be made knights, took each a bath, and had in fact a regular good Saturday night's wash, so that they might be nice and clean to receive the honour designed for them. On Sunday morning, after church, they were knighted by the king, who gave them all new coats, a proof that their wardrobes could not have been in a veiy flourishing condition. After dinner his Majesty returned to Westminster, bare-headed, with nothing on, according to Froissart,* but a pair of gaiters and a German jacket. The streets of London were decorated with tapestry as he passed, and there were nine fountains in Cheapside, running with white and red wine, though we think our informant has been drawing rather copiously upon his own imagination for the generous liquor. The cavalcade comprised, according to the same authority, six thousand horse ; but again we are of opinion that Froissart must have found some mare's nest, from which to supply a stud of such wondrous magnitude. The king took a bath on the same night, in order perhaps to wash out the port wine stains that might have- fallen upon him while passing the fountains. " Call me early, if you're waking," were the king s last words to his valet, and in the morning the coronation procession started for the Abbey of Westminster. Henry walked under a blue silk canopy, supported on silver staves, with golden bells at each corner, and carried by four burgesses of Dover, who claimed it as their right, for the loyalty of the Dover people was in those days inspired only by the hope of a perquisite. The king might have got wet through to the skin before they would have held a canopy over him, had it not been for the value of the silver staves and golden bells, which became their property for the trouble of porterage. On each side were the sword of Mercy and the sword of Jastice, though these articles * Vol. II., page 699, edition 1842. V CHAP. I.] CORONATION OF HENRY IV. 200 must have been more for ornament than for use, in those days of regal cruelty and oppression. At nine o'clock the king entered the Abbey, in the middle of which a platform, covered with scarlet cloth had been erected ; so that the pro- ceedings might be visible from all corners of the Abbey. He seated himself on the throne, and was looking remarkably well, being in full regal costume, with the exception of the crown, which the Archbishop of Canterbury proposed to invest him with. The people, on being asked whether the ceremony should be performed, of course shouted " Aye," for they had come to see a coronation and were not likely to deprive themselves of the spectacle by becoming, at the last moment, hyper- critical of the new king's merits. We cannot say we positively know there was no " No," but the " Ayes " unquestionably had it ; and Henry was at once taken off the throne to be stripped to his shirt, which, in the middle of the month of October, could not have been very agreeable treatment. After saturating him in oil, they put upon his head a bonnet, and then proceeded to dress him up as a priest, adding a pair of spurs and the sword of justice. While his Majesty was in this motley costume, the Archbishop of Canterbury, clutching off the bonnet from the royal head, placed upon it the crown of Saint Edward. Henry was not sorry when these harassing ceremonies were at an end, and having left the Abbey to dress, returned to the Hall to dinner. Wine continued to play, like ginger-beer, from the fountain ; but the jets were of the same paltry description as that which throws up about a pint a day in the Temple. We confess that we are extremely sceptical in reference to all allegations of wine having been laid on in the public streets, particularly in those days, when there were neither turncocks to turn it on, nor pipes through which to carry it. Even with our present admirable system of water- works, we should be astonished at an arrange- ment that would allow us to draw our wine from the wood in the pavement of Cheapside, or take it fresh from the pipe as it rolled with all its might through the main of the New River. Whether the liquid could be really laid on may be doubtful, but that it would not be worth drinking cannot admit of a question. Under the most favourable circumstances, our metropolitan fountains could only be made to run with that negative stuff to which the name of negus has been most appropriately given. Let us, however, resume our account of the ceremonial, from which, with our heads full of the wine sprinkled gratuitously over the people, we have been led to deviate. Dinner was served for the coronation party in excellent style, but before it was half over it was varied by an entree of the most extraordinary and novel character. It was after the second course that a courser came prancing in, with a knight of the name of Dymock mounted on the top of the animal. The expression of Henry's astonished countenance gave an extra plat, in the shape of calf's head surprised, at the top of the royal table. The wonder of Henry was somewhat abated when the knight put into the royal hand a written offer to fight any knight p 210 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. or gentleman who would maintain that the new king was not a lawful sovereign. The challenge was read six times over, but nobody came. Entrance of Dyraock the Champion, at the Coronation Banquet. forward to accept it ; and indeed it was nearly impossible, for care had been taken to exclude all persons likely to prove troublesome, as it was very desirable on the occasion of a coronation to keep the thing respect- able. The champion was then presented with " something to drink," in a golden goblet, and pocketed the poculum as a perquisite. Thus passed off the coronation of Henry IV. which is still further remarkable for a story told about the oil used in anointing the head of the new monarch. This precious precursor of all the multitudi- nous mixtures to which ingenuity and gullibility have since given their heads, was contained in a flask said to have been presented by a good hermit to Henry Duke of Lancaster, the grandson of Henry III., who CHAP. I.] PA1UJAMENT EESUMES ITS SITTINGS. Q1I gave it to somebody else, until it came, unspilt, into the possession of Henry of Bolingbroke. We confess we reject the oil, with winch our critical acidity refuses to coalesce, and we would almost as soon believe the assertion that it was a flask of salad oil sent from the Holy Land by the famous Saladin. The day after the ceremony, or as soon after as the disarrangement caused by the preparations for the Coronation could be set to rights, the Parliament resumed its sittings. The terrible turncoatery of the last few years gave rise to fearful recriminations in the House of Lords, and the terms "liar" and "traitor" flew from every corner of the building. At one time, forty gauntlets were thrown on the floor at the same moment, as pledges of battle, but there was as little of the fortiter in re as of the suaviter in modo, and the gloves not being picked up became, of course, the perquisites of the parliamentary char- woman. Some wholesome acts were passed during the session, but the chief object of the new king was to plant himself firmly on the throne of England. A slip from the parent trunk was grafted on to the Dukedom of Cornwall, and the principality of Wales, to both of which Henry's eldest son was nominated. No act of settlement of the crown was introduced, for his Majesty wisely thought, that it would only have proclaimed the weakness of his title had he made any attempt to bolster it. Had the question of legitimacy been tried, the young Earl of March would have turned out to be many steps nearer to the throne than Henry, who, however, laughed at his claims, and the old saying of "as mad as a march hare," was quoted by a para- site, to prove the insanity of regarding March as a fit heir to the throne of England. Besides, the little fellow was a mere child, and was, of course, a minor consideration in a country which had a natural dread of a long regal minority. " A boy of eight or nine" said one of the philo- sophers of the day, " cannot sit upon the throne, without bringing the kingdom into a state of sixes and sevens." It was, however, to strengthen the presumed legitimacy of his family that Henry got his son created Prince of Wales, and though the circumstance is said to have weighed but as a feather in the scales, the Prince of Wales's feathers must always go for something in the balance. Richard, who was still in custody, was kept continually moving about from castle to castle, like a spring van in town or country, until a few of the Lords devised the plan of murdering Henry and restoring the late king, just by way of novelty. A tournament was got up, to which the king was politely asked, and the words " Tilting at two. An answer will oblige," might be found in the comer of the invitation card. Henry " had much pleasure in accepting" the proposal to join the jousting party, but having received an intimation from the Earl of Rutland, his cousin and one of the conspirators, his Majesty did not attend the soiree. The intention was to have hustled him and killed him on the spot, but he did not come, and the jousting was, of necessity, carried on for some time by the traitors at the expense of each other. At length, as the day wore on, they began p2 212 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IT. to think it exceedingly odd that Henry had not arrived, when, suspecting they had been betrayed, tney determined to make for Windsor, where they knew the king had been passing his Christmas holidays. He had, however, received timely warning, and had left for London, so that the conspirators were utterly baffled. On their arrival at Windsor, they hastened to surprise the Castle ; but the greatest surprise was for themselves, when they heard of the escape of their intended victim. Henry had rushed up to town to issue writs against every one of the traitors, who ran away in all direc- tions before he had time to return to Windsor. Some of them attempted to proclaim King Richard in every town they passed through; but they might as well have proclaimed old king Cole, or any other merry old soul, for they only got laughed at and slaughtered by the inhabitants. Poor Richard was also a sufferer by his injudicious friends, for it was agreed that he would become an intolerable nuisance if he should serve as a point for the rebels to rally round. It was therefore thought advisable to have him abated, and according to the Chroniclers of the day, who confess they know nothing about it, he was either starved or murdered. The condition of Richard's young wife, Isabella, a girl of eleven, the daughter of King Charles of France, was exceedingly deplorable. She had brought a large fortune to her husband, and upon his death, her father wished her to be restored to the bosom, and her money to the pockets of her family. The young lady was promised by an early boat; but Charles insisted that she should be allowed to bring her dowry back with her. Henry, who had spent at least half of it, declined this proposal, and her papa, who had an eye to the cash, would not receive her without, so that she really seemed on the point of becoming a shuttlecock tossed between two enormous battledores in the shape of Dover and Calais. Every kind of paltry excuse was set up to avoid payment of the demand, and the English pretended to find upon their books an old claim for the ransom of the French king, John, who had been taken by Edward III., and had never been duly settled for. This plea of set-off was over-ruled on demurrer by the French, who kept reiterating their applications for Richard's widow and her dowry, with a threat of ulterior proceedings if the demand were not speedily complied with. At length Henry agreed to restore her like a toad, " with all her precious jewels in her head." Her old father received her with the exclamation of " Oh, you duck of diamonds," in allusion, no doubt, to the valuable brilliants she carried about her ; and there is every reason to believe that had her teeth been literally pearls, the king would have made copious extracts from the choice collection. Henry now began to consider the best means for making himself popular, and after thinking it well over, he came to the conclusion that a war would be a nice little excitement, of which he might reap the benefit. Upon looking about him for an eligible object of attack, Scotland seemed to be the most inviting ; for Robert, the actual king. CllAi* I.J HENRY SUMMONS ROBERT TO EDINBURGH. J3 i 3 was old and helpless, while his eldest son David, Earl of Rothsay, was a drunken, dissipated, reckless, but rather clever personage. He had quarrelled with his uncle the Duke of Albey, who had acted as regent during the illness of the king, and who was himself a remorseless ruffian ; so that the Scotch royal family consisted of a dotard, a drunkard, and a bully. Henry, though he wanted a war, wished to get it without paying for it, to prevent the odium he might incur by taxing the people. He therefore tried the old plan of feudal service, by calling upon all persons enjoying fees or pensions, to join him in arms at York, under pain of forfeiture. The lay lords were ordered to come at their own charge with their retainers, but the result afforded a strong proof of the fact that a thing is never worth having if it is not worth paying for. Those who came in arms were fearfully out at elbows ; and amid the owners of fees with their retainers, was perhaps some unhappy Templar, with his one fee and one retainer, urged by an ordinary motion of course, to appear in the great cause of the King versus Bruce, Rothsay, and others. Henry began boldly with a writ of summons directed to Robert, greeting, and ordering him to come to Edinburgh to make submission. The Earl of Rothsay entered an appearance for his father ; a declaration of war ensued on Henry's part, when Rothsay, without putting in a plea, took issue at once, and threw himself upon the country. Henry, not expecting the action to come off so speedily, was but ill prepared, and after making a vain attempt at a fight — in the course of which he tried all his earls and failed on every count — he retired from the contest. He endeavoured, nevertheless, to make the best of it, and observed pleasantly to his followers, " Well, gentlemen, I told you we were sure to beat, and so we will yet. Come, let us beat a retreat : that is better than not beating anything." Thus ended, in a pitiable and most humiliating pun, a campaign commenced in pride, confidence, and insolence. While Henry was fooling away his time and resources in the North, a little matter in the West was growing into a very formidable insurrec- tion. Owen Glendower, Esquire, a Welsh gentleman " learned in the law," who had held a place in the household of Richard II., perhaps as standing counsel, became involved in a dispute about some property with Lord Grey de Ruthyn. Mr. Glendower petitioned the Lords, who rejected his suit, which so irritated him that he instantly exchanged the. pen for the sword, the forensic gown for the coat of mail, and dashing his wig violently on the floor, ordered a helmet to fit the head and the box hitherto devoted to peaceful horse-hair. In the course of his legal studies he had learned something of the art of making out a title, and he immediately set to work to prove himself the lineal descendant of the native Welsh princes. By drawing upon fact for some portions, and his imagination for the remainder, he con- trived to get up an excellent draft abstract, which he endorsed with the words "Principality of Wales. Grey Ruthyn ats self;" and uu COMIC HISTOBY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IY. adding the usual formula of " Mr. 0. Glendower, to settle and advise, 2 Guas. ; Clerk, 2s. 6d. ;" he placed it among his papers. The Welsh peasants set him down as a magician at the least, and the barrister had no difficulty in placing himself in a little brief authority over them. Mr. Owen Glendower armed by his trusty clerk. Assisted by his clerk the trusty Thomson, Mr. Owen Glendower armed himself for the contest upon which he had determined to enter ; and the learned gentleman, who had never used any weapon more formidable than a file, upon which he had occasionally impaled a decla- ration, now girded on the sword, and prepared to listen to the war- trumpet as the only summons to which he would henceforth pay attention. Taking the somewhat professional motto of " deeds not words," he sallied forth, as he boldly declared, for the purpose of subjecting all his opponents to special damage. He collected a small band, and made an attack on the property of Grey de Ruthyn, for which the king had Mr. Glendow r er's name published in the next batch of outlaws. Irritated by this indignity, the learned gentleman declared himself sovereign of Wales, observing with much quaintness " One may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, and why not for a Welsh rabbit ?" Henry at once marched in pursuit, but the CHAP. I.] BATTLE OF NISBET MOOK. 9J5 barrister was cautious enough to avoid an action, and led Lis antagonist all over the Welsh circuit, by which he continually put off the day of trial. Henry, who had a variety of other little matters to attend to, was compelled to allow the cause of himself versus Glendower to stand over to an indefinite period. Among the businesses getting into arrear at home, was an absurd declaration of war by Walleran of Luxemburgh, the Count of Ligny and St. Pol, who had married a sister of the deposed Richard, and was suddenly seized with a fit of fratemo-legal or brotherly-in-lawly affection, and began to talk of avenging his unfortunate relative. In spite of the recommendations of his best friends, who all urged him t! not to make a fool of himself," he insisted on going to sea, where a fate a good deal like that of the three wise men of Gotham appeared to threaten him. Conspiracies now sprung up on every side, and a rumour was spread, that Richard was alive in Scotland, and was coming presently to England at the head of a large army, to play old Harry with Henry's adherents. Never was a cry of " Bogy" more utterly futile than this assertion, for Richard was really dead, though it suited a certain party of malcontents to resuscitate him for their own purposes. Henry was exceedingly angry at the rumour, and every now and then cut off some half dozen heads, as a punishment for running about with a false tale, but there was no checking the evil. At length an army came from Scotland, but Richard was not with it, and the Scotch no longer kept up the delusion, but, like the detected impostor who confessed "It is a swindle, and new do your worst," they acknowledged the hoax they had been previously practising. The Scotch proved mischievous, but impotent; and Henry was not far from the truth when in one of his remonstrances he remarked, " You are doing yourselves no good, nor me either." They were defeated at Nisbet Moor by the English, under the command of a disaffected Scot, the old Earl of March, who was piqued at his daughter Elizabeth having been jilted by the Earl of Rothsay, to whom she had been affianced. The Earl of Rothsay had made another, and let us hope, a better match, so that the action fought at Nisbet Moor was, as far as the Earl of March was concerned, in reality an action for a breach of promise of marriage. Young Rothsay had united himself to Miss Mariell Douglas, the daughter of old Douglas, who had noj; only got for his child the husband — that was to have been — of Earl March's daughter that was, but had also obtained for himself a grant of the estates of the father of Rothsay 's ex-intended. Douglas, with ten thousand men at his heels, hurried to take possession, and they soon carried sword and fire — but we believe it was fire without coals — to Newcastle. Having completely sacked this important city — but mark I there were in those days no coals to sack — he returned laden with plunder, towards the Tweed, for which way he went, was- — like Twecdle-dum and Tweedle-dee — a matter of pure indifference. The Duke of Northumberland, aided by his son, the persevering Percy, sur- 216 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. named Hotspur, -with the indignant March, had got an army in the rear, when Douglas, seeing a good position between the two forces, called Homildon Hill, was the first to take possession of it. Harry Percy was about to charge up the hill, when the Earl of March, seizing his bridle, backed him cleverly into the ranks, and advised him to begin the battle with his archers. The advice was taken ; they shot up the hill, and success was the upshot. Every arrow told with terrific effect upon the Scotch, who presented a phalanx of targets, and the stalwart troopers became at length so perforated with darts, that they looked like so many fillets of veal, skewered through and through by the enemy. Douglas was wounded in so many places, that he resembled a porcupine rather than a Scottish chief, and he was taken into custody, regularly trussed like a chicken prepared for roasting. Among his fellow-prisoners were the Earls of Moray and Angus, who had tried in vain to escape ; but neither did Moray nor Angus reach their own quarters in time to escape the grasp of the enemy. The battle of Homildon Hill, which we have thus faintly described, was fought on the 14th of September, 1402, while Heniy himself was much less profitably occupied in hunting up his learned friend, or rather Ins knowing opponent, Owen Glendower. The lawyer-like cunning of this gentleman carried him triumphantly through all his engagements ; and though good cause might have been shown against it, yet, by his- cleverness and tact in Wales, he was nearly successful in getting his rule made absolute. Henry's next annoyance was an impertinent letter from a former friend and " sworn brother," the Duke of Orleans, uncle of Isabella, the widow of the late king, and the acknowledged " female in distress," whom it was fashionable for the " recognised heroes" of that day to talk about aveng- ing. The letter of the Duke of Orleans was a mixture of ferocity and facetiousness ; it deplored the inactivity prevailing in the military market, and offered to do a little business with Henry, either in " lances, battle- axes, swords, or daggers." He sneeringly repudiated " bodkins, hooks, points, bearded darts, razors, and needles," as if Henry had been in the habit of arming himself with the fittings of a work-box or a dressing- case. An answer was returned in the same sarcastic strain, and an angry correspondence ensued, in which the parties gave each other the lie, offered to meet in single combat, and indeed entered into a short but- sharp wordy war, which was followed by no more serious consequences. Northumberland, who had struck for the defence of his country, now struck for his wages, which were unsatisfactory, and several other patriotic noblemen insisted on more liberal terms for their allegiance. Henry having resisted the extortion, gave, of course, great offence to his faith- ful adherents, w T ho veered, at once, clean round to the scale of the king's enemies. In those days the principles of great men seemed to go upon a pivot, and Northumberland's swivel was evidently in fine working order on the occasion to which we have alluded. Scroop, the Archbishop of York, who might well have been called the Unscrupulous, advised that CnAP. l.J DOUGLAS MADE PRISONER 217 Henry should be treated as a wrongful heir, and that the young Earl of March should be rallied round, as the rightful heir, by the dissatisfied nobles. They sent a retaining fee to Owen G-lendower, and marked upon his brief " With you theEarl of Northumberland and Henry Percy," and appointed a consultation at an early period. Earl Douglas was re- leased from custody without payment of costs, on condition of his leaving the rebels ; and 0. Glendower, Esquire, married the daughter of his prisoner, Mortimer, the young Earl of March's uncle. The conspirators having consulted, determined to proceed, and though Northumberland himself was kept at home by indisposition, Hotspur marched to meet Glendower. That learned gentleman, who had probably not received his refresher, did not come, but young Percy, nevertheless, sent to Henry a written notice of trial. The king proposed referring it to arbitration, but the offer was treated with contempt ; and he then rejoined that he had no time to waste in writing, but he would, " by dint of sword and fierce battle," prove their quarrel was false and feigned; " whereupon," as the lawyers have it, "issue was joined." Each army consisted of about fourteen thousand men, and on the morning of the *21st of July, 1403, both being full of confidence, began sounding their horns, or blowing their own trumpets. Hotspur and Douglas led the first charge with irresistible vigour, and one or two gentlemen who had carried their loyalty so far as to wear the royal arms as a dodge, while the king fought in plain clothes, paid with their lives the penalty of their fidelity. Henry of Monmouth, the young Prince of "Wales, got several slaps in the face, and once or twice exclaimed, in the Norman- French of the period, " Oh ! Man mouth I " but he nevertheless con- tinued to the last, showing his teeth to the enemy. Douglas and Hotspur were not ably supported, and the latter was struck by an arrow shot at random ; while Douglas, losing command over his head, took to his heels, and becoming positively flighty in his flight, fell over a preci- pice. This was his downfall but not his death, for he was picked up and made prisoner. Old Percy who had been absent from ill health, but had now got much better from his illness, was marching to join the insurgents with a considerable force, and had paused on the road to take his medicine, when he was met by a messenger, who glancing at the physic, exclaimed, " Ah ! my lard I've got a blacker dose than that for you." With this, he administered two pills in the shape of two separate announcements of the deaths of Hotspur and Worcester, the son and brother of the Earl, who bidding good morning to his retainers, all of whom he dismissed, shut himself up in the castle of Warkworth. The king soon routed him out, when Northumberland, like an old sycophant as he was, pretended that Hotspur had acted against his advice, for the venerable humbug, though eager enough to share in his son's success, was meanly anxious to repudiate him in his misfortunes. By this paltry proceeding, Northumberland was allowed to get off cheap, and even to win commiseration as the victim of the imprudence of his heir, though the fact was that the latter had beeix completely sacrificed to his parent's 218 COMIC HISTORY 01? ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. selfishness. In the year 1404, the old ciy of "Dick's alive" was renewed, and some people even went so far as to say that they had recently walked and talked with the deposed King Kichard. The rumour ran that he was living in Scotland, and one Serle, an old servant, went over to recognise his Majesty, but found in his place the court jester, who bore some resemblance to the unfortunate sovereign. Serle, however, determined on playing his cards to the best advantage, and thought it a good speculation to play the fool off in place of the king, a trick which was for a time successful. The buffoon humoured the joke, which was a sorry one for its author, who was executed as a traitor, and it might be as well if the same justice were dealt out to similar delinquents in the present day, for indifferent jokes are the madness of few for the gain of nobody. Henry was now frightfully embarrassed by the quantity of bills pour- ing in upon him for carrying on the war in Wales, and every day brought him a fresh account which he had never expected. Even the musicians made a claim, and the king running his eye down a long list of items, including a drum, a ditto, a ditto, a flute half a day, a pandean pipe et catera, et catera, exclaimed mournfully to his treasurer, " Alas ! I fear I cannot manage to pay the piper." In fact, the claims on account of the war left him no peace, and he proposed taking a quantity of the property of the church to settle with his creditors. This proposition raised a perfect flame amongst the whole body of the clergy. The Archbishop of Canterbury instantly took fire, while the in- ferior members of the church were fearfully put out ; and cold water being thrown on the attempt, it was soon extinguished. Fighting was still the business that Hemy had on hand ; for as fast as one of his foes was down, another was ready to come on with fresh vigour. Old Northum- berland could not keep quiet, but Owen Glendow^er was perhaps the most troublesome of all the kings enemies. The rapidity of the learned gentleman's motions kept the other side constantly employed ; for he never hesitated to change the venue, or resort to a set-off, when he wished to baffle his antagonists. At length, lack of funds, and its customary concomitant, the loss of friends, compelled him not only to stay proceedings, but to keep out of the way to avoid his heavy respon- sibilities. He is supposed to have been engaged for years in a pro- tracted game at hide and seek, living at the homes of his daughters and friends, but disguised always in a shepherd's plaid, to prevent the ser- vants from knowing him. What became of him was never known, and, unfortunately for the historian, there were in those days no registrars of either births, deaths, or marriages. Some say that Owen Glendower ended his days at Mornington ; but they might as well say Mornington Crescent ; and the place of his interment is no less doubtful ; for where he was buried is now buried in obscurity. There is a tradition that his tomb is in the Cathedral of Bangor, but this story is of little value to any one, except to the Bangor beadle, who makes an occasional sixpence by calling the attention of visitors to CHAT. I.] DEATH OF ROBERT. 210 a spot which he. and Common Rumour, between them, have dignified with the title of the tomb of Owen Glendower. "We all know the character which Common Rumour bears for an habitual violation of truth ; and we are afraid that if she is no better than she should be, the Bangor beadle is not so good as he ought to be. Henry was fortunate in overcoming his enemies, but his treatment of them was frequently cruel in the extreme. Poor old Robert, the nominal King of Scotland, was driven about from abbey to abbey, but had no sooner got comfortably settled in one, than a cry of " Here he is ! we Ye got liim ! " drove him to take refuge in another. At last he hid himself in the Isle of Bute, where he is supposed to have remained to the close of his existence, and it is certain that he never addressed to the Isle of Bute the celebrated apostrophe, " Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well ! " His eldest son Rothsay was imprisoned in the castle of Falk- land (March 1402), into which it is supposed he was pitched with a pitcher, containing about a pint of water, and furnished by a crusty gaoler, with a piece of crust. Even this miserable diet is said to have been very irregularly administered, and was of course insufficient for an able-bodied young man like Rothsay. He was treated like a pauper under the new Poor-law, and is believed to have died of inanition ; for though the chronicles of that day attributed his death to starvation, the chronicle of our day prefers a genteeler term. The King of Scotland's second son, James, had been shipped by his father for France, to be out of the way, when the vessel was seized by the crews of some English cruisers. Robert died of grief at the loss of young James, whom he called his precious jewel of a* gem, and the little fellow, though a prisoner, was lodged and boarded in comfort, allowed masters, and instructed in all the usual branches of a sound education. Constitutional liberty had in previous reigns taken veiy irregular hops, skips, and jumps ; but, during the reign of Henry, it began taking rapid strides. During the latter part of his life the tranquillity of his own country gave him the power to lend out his soldiers to fight the battles of others ; but it never paid him : for though there was a good deal owing to him, he was unable to get the money. His second son, the Duke of Clarence, had landed in Normandy with a large army ; but rinding he could not get a penny to pay his troops, he began to insist on a settlement, He was insultingly told that he was not wanted, and might take his army back again ; but he soon brought the people to their senses by a little prompt pillage. The matter was arranged, and the Duke of Orleans brought all the ready money he could raise as the first instalment to the head-quarters of the English. It is doubtful whether the payments were regularly kept up, but every possible pre- caution was taken that bail or bills could afford. Henry's reign was now drawing to a close, and he became exceedingly sentimental in the latter years of his existence. He had discovered the hollowness of the human heart, together with its propensity for wearing 220 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. a mask, and the keen perception of this perpetual fancy-dress ball of the finest feelings, rendered him gloomy, solitary, and suspicious. He was also in a wretched state of health, for nothing agreed with him, and he agreed with nobody. He became jealous of the popularity of his son, whom he declared to be everything that was bad, though the after life of the young man gave the perfect lie to the parental libel. Many anec- dotes are related of the low freaks of Henry and his companions, who seem to have been the terror of the police and the people. If we are to believe all that is said concerning them, we should look upon the Prince of Wales and his associates as the foes to that great engine of civilisation the street-door knocker, and the determined enemies to enlightenment by the agency of public lamps. Anecdotes are told of their being brought before the Chief Justice Gascoigne, the Denman, Pollock, or Wilde of his day, who took cog- nizance of a case, which would induce either of these learned and upright individuals to exclaim to a complainant, " You must not come here, sir ; we don't sit here to decide upon the merits of street rows." Gascoigne, who was a chief justice and a police magistrate all in one — like an article of furniture intended for both a bedstead and a chest of drawers, but offering the accommodation of neither — Gascoigne committed to prison some of the Prince's associates. The learned judge, setting a precedent that might be followed with advantage in the present day, inflicted imprisonment, instead of a fine, on those to whom the latter would have been no punishment. The Prince of Wales, on hearing of the incarceration of his companions, rushed into court, demanding a habeas corpus, and drew his sword upon the judge when asked for a case in point. Judge Gascoigne ordered the usher to take the Prince into custody, and the officer of the court having hesitated, young Henry, politely exclaiming, " I'm your prisoner, sir," surrendered without a murmur. When the king heard the anecdote, he became mawkishly sentimental, exclaiming, "Happy the monarch to have such a good judge for a justice, and happy the father to have a son so' ready to yield to legal authority." If the latter is really a subject for congratulation, what happiness the police reports of each day ought to afford to those parents who have had sons confined in the station-houses for intoxication, by whom the penalty of five shillings has been paid with cheerful alacrity We can fancy the respectable sire of some youth who has formed the subject of a case at Bow-street, and who has submitted to the decision of the Bench ; we can imagine the parent exclaiming with enthusiasm, " Happy the Englishman to have such a magistrate to enforce the law, and such a son to yield obedience to its orders." Another anecdote is told of the amiable feeling existing between the sovereign and his heir, which we insert without vouching for its truth, though it is not by any means improbable. The king was ill in bed, and the Prince of Wales was sitting up with him in the temporary capacity of nurse. The son, however, seemed to be rather waiting for his father's death, than hoping for the prolongation of his life, and the CHAP. I.] DEATH OF HENRY IV. 22 J King, having gone off into a fit, the Prince, instead of calling for assist- ance, or giving any aid himself, heartlessly took that opportunity to see how he should look in the Crown, which always hung on a peg in the royal bed-chamber. Young Henry was figuring away before a cheval glass, with the regal bauble on his head, and was exclaiming " Just the thing, upon my honour," when the elder Henry, happening to recover, sat up in his bed, and saw the conduct of his offspring. " Hallo," cried Unseemly conduct of Henry, PriDoe of Wales. the King, " who gave you leave to put that on? I think you might have left it alone till I've done with it ? " The Prince muttered some excuse, which was not long needed, for on the 23d of March, 1413, Henry IY. died, in the 47th year of his age, and the 14th of his reign. The character of Henry IV. may be told in a few words, and the fewer the better for his reputation, inasmuch as it is impossible to furnish him 222 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. with that passport to posterity with which it would give us pleasure to present the whole of our English sovereigns. Other historians have puffed him, hut the only puffing we can promise him is a regular blowing up. He was cautious how he gave offence to his subjects, but this was less out of regard to their interests than care for his own. He knew that the hostility existing towards him among the nobles ou account of his usurpation, could only be counteracted by obtaining the support of the people. He therefore refrained from irritating the latter by taxing them heavily for his wars, but he never scrupled to help him- self to the goods of the former whenever his exigencies required. The only difference between him and some of his predecessors in the practice of extortion and robbery, is in the fact that while others plundered principally the people, Henry IV. thought it better worth his while to plunder the nobles. Some of our predecessors have praised his prudence, which was unquestionably great ; for never was a king more cunning in his attempts to preserve the crown he had unjustly acquired. He was not wantonly barbarous in the treatment of his enemies when he got them into his power, and, in this respect, his conduct presents an honourable contrast to that of the sanguinary monsters who committed the greatest crimes to surmount the smallest obstacles. He did not seek to stop the merest breath of disaffection by the most monstrous murders, nor to rid himself of the annoyance of suspicion by incurring the guilt of slaughtering the suspected. His treatment of his predeces- sor, Richard, and one or two others, who are yet unaccounted for, and returned " missing " in the balance-sheet of history, must always leave a blot, or, rather, a shower of blots, throwing a piebald aspect upon the character of Henry. Among the distinguished individuals who shed lustre on a reign which derived no brilliance from the sovereign himself, are the poets Chaucer and Gower, as well as William Wickham, and Richard Whittington, the Lord Mayor of London We have been at some pains to trace the story of the latter, in the hope of being able to find accommodation for his cat in the pages of history. We regret to say that our task has ended in the melancholy conviction that the cat of Whittington must make one in that imaginary happy family which com- prises the puss in boots of the Marquis of Carabas, the rats and lizards of Cinderella, and the chickens of Mother Carey. Among the distinctions to which this reign is entitled, we must not omit to mention that it was the first in which the practice prevailed of burning what were called heretics. Had this circumstance occurred to us before we commenced the character of Henry, we think we might have spared ourselves the trouble of writing it. The .burning of heretics ought, of itself, to brand his name with infamy. CHAP. II.] HENKT THE FIFTH. 223 CHAPTER THE SECOND. HENRY THE FIFTH, SURNAMED OF MONMOUTH. Henry the Fifth, on coming to the throne, pursued the policy of conciliation ; but it so happened that his first act of magnanimity was bestowed in a quarter where it could do no good, and excite no gratitude. The act in question, for which he has been greatly praised, was the removal of the body of Richard II. from an obscure tomb in the Friars' Church, at Langley, to a place beside his first wife, the good Queen Anne, in the Abbey of Westminster. Had Richard II. been aware of the honour reserved for him after his death, he might probably have requested the advance of a small instalment during his lifetime, when it would have been of some use to him. The greatest magnificence that can be lavished on a tomb will scarcely compensate for an hour's confinement within the dreariness of a prison. Had Richard been living, there would have been some magnanimity in restoring him to his proper position ; but giving to his remains the honours due to sovereignty was only a confession on the part of Henry that he and his father had usurped the crown of one who, being dead, could no longer claim retribution for his injuries. It was a mockery to pretend to uphold the deposed king by the agency of an upholsterer, and the funeral was nothing more than another black job added to the many that had already arisen out of the treatment of poor Richard The release of the Earl of March from captivity, and the restoration of the son of Hotspur to the honours of the Percies, were acts of more decided liberality ; but, if we are to believe the gossip of the period, these two young gentlemen were a pair of spoons, wholly incapable of making a stir of any kind. The Earl of March was, it is true, a spoon of the king's pattern, for he was a scion of a royal stock, but he never- theless had enough of the fiddle-head about him to render it certain that he could be played upon, or let down a peg when occasion required. From the wildness of Henry's life during his Welsh Princedom, it was expected that his career as king would have been a series of practical jokes upon his officers of state and his subjects in general. He had, when a young man, " scrupled not," according to Hume, " to accompany his riotous associates in attacking the passengers in the streets and highways, and despoiling them of their goods; and he found an amusement in the incidents which the tears and regret of these defenceless people produced on such occasions." It was feared, therefore, that he would have continued to riot in runaway knocks, not only at the doors but upon the heads of the public. Happily he disappointed these expectations, for from the moment of his ascending 224 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. the throne he became exceedingly well conducted and highly respectable. He did not exactly cut his old friends, but told them plainly that they must reform if they desired to retain the acquaintance of their sovereign. He stated plainly that it would not do for the king of England to be figuring at fancy balls, and kicking his heels about at Casinos, as in former times, for he was now no longer a man about town, but the sovereign of a powerful country. Poor Gascoigne, the Chief Justice, had approached the royal presence with fear and trembling, fully expecting to be paid off without any pension, for having committed Henry when Prince of Wales, but, to the surprise of everyone, the king commended the judge for his firmness, and advised him, in the words of the song — " To do the same thing were he in the same place," should he, the king, be placed to-morrow in another similar position. In the first year of the new reign a commotion sprung up, which first developed itself in a violent fit of seditious bill-sticking. In the course of a night some party succeeded in getting out an " effective poster," announcing the readiness of " a hundred thousand men to assert their rights by force of arms, if needful." What those rights were the pla- cards did not state, and probably this would have been the very last subject that the hundred thousand men would have proceeded to think about. They were supposed to have been instigated by the Lollards, one of whom, Sir John Oldcastle, their leader, was sent for by the king to have a little talk, in the course of which the wrongs of the Lollards might perchance be hit upon. Sir John Oldcastle, who was one of the old school, found plenty to say, but he never could find any one to listen patiently to his rigmaroles. Henry V. was obliged to cut the old gentleman short, by hinting that the statute de heretico comburendo was in force, and Sir John, who had been about to fire up, cooled down very decidedly on hearing the allusion. Henry, finding nothing could be done with Oldcastle, who was as sturdy and obstinate as his name would seem to imply, turned him over to Archbishop Arundel. The prelate undertook to bring Sir John to his senses, but the junction could not be effected, for the objects were really too remote to be easily brought together. A writ was issued, but Oldcastle kept the proper officer at bay, and assailed him not only with obstructive missiles, but with derisive ridicule. At length a military force was sent out to take the Old-castle by storm, when Sir John unwillingly surrendered. Though taken he refused to be shaken in his obstinate resolves, and he pleaded two whole days before his judges, in the hope of wearing them out and inducing them to stay the proceedings, rather than subject themselves to the fearful blow of his excessive long-windedness. He was, however, condemned, but the king granted a respite of fifty days, during which the old fellow either contrived, or was allowed to escape from the Tower ; and the probability is, that the gaolors had instructions to wink, in the event of his being seen to pass the portals of his prison. CHAP. II. J AKREST ON TWELFTH NIGi 225 Oldcastle, or Lord Cobham, as he was also called, had no sooner got out of prison than he rushed into the flames of sedition, and illustrated by his conduct the process of a leap from the frying-pan into the fire He appointed a meeting of his followers at Eltham for the purpose of surprising Henry, but the king observing the moves of the knight determined if possible to avoid being check-mated. His Majesty re- paired to Westminster, when Cobham, changing his tactics, fixed upon St. Giles's Fields as the place of rendezvous. The king thought to himself " Now we've got them there well keep them there," and shut the gates of the city. This was on the feast of the Epiphany, or Twelfth Day, 1414, and in the evening the Lord Mayor of London arrested Lord Mayor of the Period arresting a suspicious Twelfth-night Character. several very disreputable Twelfth-night character^ a little after midnight, Henry went forth expecting Q On the next day, to find 25,000 men 226 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. L B00K 1V - assembled in St. Giles's Fields, but lie met only eighty Lollards lolling about, expecting Sir John Oldcastle. Several of them were hanged on the charge of having intended to destroy king, lords, commons, church, state, and all the other sundries of which the constitution is composed, and to turn England into a federal republic, with Sir John Oldcastle as president. The idea of eighty enthusiasts meeting in a field near London to slice their country into republics, and make a bonfire of the crown, the scep- tre, the throne, and the other appointments of royalty, is really too ridi- culous to be entertained, though it is almost funny enough to be enter- taining. Such, nevertheless, was the alarm the Lollards had inspired, that eveiy one suspected of Lollardism was condemned to forfeit his head first and his goods afterwards, though after taking a man in execution it was rather superfluous cruelty to take his property by the same process. Life, however, was held of so little account in those days that there was considered to be no such capital fun as capital punishment. Henry had scarcely worn the English crown for a year, when, in the spirit of an old clothesman, who delights in a plurality of hats, he thought the crown of France might furnish a graceful supplement to his own head-dress. He therefore sent in his claim to the French diadem, making out a title in right of Edward III.'s wife, who had no right at all, or if she had, it is clear that Henry V. had no right to the lady, whose heir was Edward Mortimer. France w T as in a wretched state when Henry put in his claim ; for Paris was in one of its revolutionary fits, and intrigue was rampant in the royal family. The dauphin, Louis, w r as continually fighting jrith his mother, and insulting his father, while the Duke of Orleans and his cousin, the Duke of Burgundy, were perpetually quarrelling Each had his partisans, and those belonging to the latter w T ere in the habit of declaring that an Orleans plum — alluding, of course, to the Duke's vast fortune — w-as preferable to an entire dozen of Burgundy. In the mean time Paris was infested by a band of assassins, professing to be the friends of liberty, and wearing white hoods, which they forced on to everybody's head; and this act was no doubt the origin of the expression with reference to the hoodwinking of the people. Before proceeding to arm, Henry proposed a compromise. He demanded two millions in cash, and King Charles's daughter, Catharine, in marriage. The latter offered the lady in full, but only a moiety of the money. This arrangement was scornfully rejected, and Henry held a council on the 17th of April, 1415, at which he announced his determi- nation to go " over the water to Charley." Having resolved upon what to do, the next question was how to do it ; and the first difficulty that occurred was the refusal of his soldiers to stir a step without an advance of three months' wages. He first tried the Parliament, and got a good supply, which was further increased by borrowing from or robbing his subjects. Even this would not do, and recourse was had to the common but disgraceful practice of unpicking the crown, for the purpose of ^ 1- * CHAP. II.] EMBARKATION OF HENRY. 2'27 sending the jewels to the pawnbroker's. A trusty officer was despatched •to deposit with one of the king's relatives a brilliant, in the name of Bolinbroke. The news of the preparations being made in England, spread terror in France, for the distant roaring of the British Lion came across the main, with portentous fury. The French King, Charles, was utterly useless in the emergency — for he was a wretched imbecile — and several artful attempts were made to get rid of his authority. Every now and then he was made the subject of a commission of lunacy, as a pretext for placing power in the Dauphin's hands ; and that undutifui son, having turned his mother out of doors, seized the contents of the treasury, which made him at once master of the capital. At one time, while the pusillanimous Charles was lying at Arras, an attempt was made to burn him out, by setting fire to his lodgings ; but, having all the essential qualities of a perfect pump, he does not appear to have been of a combustible nature. He certainly was not of a very fiery disposition, and his enemies declared that he owed his escapo from the flames to his being utterly incapable of enlightenment. Such was the King of France, and such the feeling entertained towards him by the majority of his subjects, when the English sovereign resolved on his aggressive enterprise. Henry left London on the 18th of June, 1415, and proceeded to "Winchester, where he was met by another offej: of a compromise. This he refused, and rudely pushing the deputation aside, he pressed on to Southampton. Here his fleet awaited him, but receiving news of a conspiracy to take his life, he, instead of putting off to sea, put off his departure. Sir Thomas Grey, the Lord Scroop, and the Earl of Cambridge were all in the plot ; and the two latter having claimed the privilege of being tried by their peers, took very little by their motion, for they were condemned by a vote of wondrous unanimity. Having heard the heads of the treason, Henry cut off the heads of the traitors, and embarked, on the 10th of August, on board his ship the "Trinity." The scene on the Southampton pier was animated and brilliant when the sovereign placed his foot upon the plank leading to the vessel that was to conduct him to the shores of his enemies. Gentle breezes were in attendance to waft him on his way, and Neptune, who is sometimes ruffled on these occasions, presented an even calmness that it was quite delightful to contemplate. An en- thusiastic crowd on the shore burst forth into occasional cheers, which were succeeded now and then by the faint sob of some senti- mental trooper, taking leave of the fond maid whose heart — and last quarter's wages — he was carrying away with him. The civic authorities were, of course, active in their demonstrations of loyalty on this occasion ; and the Mayor of Southampton, in backing to make one of his sycophantic bows, sent one of the attendants fairly over the bows of the vessel. With this exception, no accident or mischance marked the embarkation of Henry, which seemed to proceed under the most favourable auspices. Q 2 228 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. His fleet consisted of more than a thousand vessels, and some swans having come to look at it, he declared this little mark of cygnal attention to be a capital omen. We must request the reader to bear in mind, that though all the authorities justify us in announcing one thousand as the number of the ships constituting Henry's fleet, we should not advise any one to believe the statement, who has not had an opportunity of counting the vessels. Either the ships in those days were very small, or Southampton harbour has been fearfully contracted by the contractors who have since undertaken to widen it. We have been ac- customed to place implicit faith in the rule of arithmetic, that " a thou- sand into one won't go !" nor do we feel disposed to alter our impression in favour of a thousand of Henry's ships being able to go into Southamp^ ton harbour. We suspect that a hundred would have been nearer the mark, for posterity is greatly in the habit of putting on an 0, and really Delieving there is nothing in it Whatever the numerical strength of Henry's fleet may have been, it is certain that he entered the mouth of the Seme, which made no attempt to show its teeth, and he landed on the 13th of August, three miles from Harfleur, without any resistance. He severely deprecated all excesses against the peaceful inhabitants, but he nevertheless besieged the fortress of Harfleur with tremendous energy ; so that his conduct towards the natives was a good deal like that of the individual who knocked another down stairs with numerous apologies for being under the painful neces- sity of doing so. The siege was under the conduct of " Master Giles," the Wellington of the period. Master Giles must have been somewhat of a bungler, for he was not successful until he had lost nearly all his men, and been six and thirty days routing out the garrison. Even then the foe surrendered through being too ill to fight, rather than from having got much the worst of it. Henry's army was also reduced to a pack of invalids, and his ships were turned into infirmaries for his soldiers. Though the troops were wretchedly indisposed, Henry himself was only sick of doing nothing, and he accordingly sent a challenge by a friend to the Dauphin of France, inviting him to a single combat. The feelings of Louis were not in correspondence with those of the English king, whose invitation to a hostile tete-a-tete was never answered. The friend sent by Henry was not by any means the sort of person to tempt the representative of Young France to a hostile meeting. The bearer of the challenge was, in fact, a walking pattern of what the Dauphin might expect to become in the event of his engaging in a duel. A countenance which looked more like a mug that had been cracked and rivetted in twenty places, was the letter of recommendation presented by Henry's second. As the friend was evidently not a man to take a denial, Henry contented himself with scratching off a few hieroglyphics on a sheet of paper — to make believe that he was writing a note — and hastily seizing an envelope, he sealed and delivered the delusive missive. Henry's friend went away satisfied, with the full conviction that he was CHAP. II.] CHALLENGE BY HENRY 229 taking back an acceptance of his master's challenge, but when the com- munication came to be opened, the English king was indignant at the hoax that had been played upon him Henry V. sends a friend to the Dauphin. Finding nimself foiled in an attempt to settle his dispute by single combat, Henry called over the muster-roll of his troops, which presented a frightful number of vacancies since the making up of his last army list. He had lost several hands from his first foot, and he was com pelled to say to his adjutant, "Eeally, if we go on at this rate we shall be compelled to notify that Nobody is promoted, vice Everybody, killed, or retired." His entire force having dwindled down to the mere shadow of its former self, he was advised to get home as speedily as possible. "No," he replied, " I have no notion of coming all this way for nothing, and I shall see a little more of this good land of France before I go back again." The army, which was nearly all under the doctor's hands, seemed, upon being drawn up in marching order, far fitter to go to bed than to go to battle. Every regiment required medical regimen, and when the soldiers should have been sitting with their feet in hot water and comforters round their throats, they were required, with a callous indifference to their state of health, to march towards Calais. 250 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. The journey began on the 6th of October, when the French King and the Dauphin had a large force at Rouen, while the Constable of France was in front of the English, with an army consisting of the very pick of Picardy. In passing through Normandy Henry met with no opposition, but his movements were watched by a large force, which kept continually cutting off stragglers, or in military language, clipping the wings of his army. Those who lingered in the rear, or, as it were hung out behind like a piece of a pocket-handkerchief protruding from the skirts of the main body, were cut off with merciless alacrity. The English continued to be dreadfully ill, and were proper subjects for the Hotel des Tnvalides, but they nevertheless pursued their march with indomitable courage. In crossing the river Bresle, beyond Dieppe, they made a decided splash ; but the garrison of Eu interrupted them in their cold bath, though with very little effect, for the French leader was killed and his followers were driven back to the ramparts. On reaching the Somme the English army found both banks so strongly fortified, that had they resorted to the most desperate hazard, or played any other reckless game, breaking the banks would have been impossible. Henry consulted with his friends as to the best means of getting across, but nothing was suggested, except to tunnel under the banks and dive along the bottom of the stream ; but this was objected to for divers reasons. Henry kept marching up the left bank of the river, in the hope of finding a favourable opportunity to dash across ; but every attempt terminated in making ducks and drakes of his brave soldiers. Wherever a chance appeared to present itself he tried it, but without success, for the river had been filled with stakes, though the extent of the stakes did not prevent him from carrying on the game as long as possible. At length, on reaching Nesle he hit the right nail on the head, for running across a temporaiy bridge near the spot, he found the accommodation passable. The Constable of France, on hearing what had occurred, retired to St. Pol, like a poltroon, and sent heralds to Hemy, advising him to avoid a battle, for the French fully intended to give it him. The Constable then fell back upon Agincourt, in which direction the English army prepared to follow him. On the 24th of October Henry and his soldiers came in sight of the enemy's outposts, and their columns served as advertising columns to indicate their position. During the night it is said that the English played on their trumpets, so that the whole neighbourhood resounded with the noise ; but as they were all very tired, and had gone to sleep, it is probable that the only music heard by the inhabitants emanated from the nasal organs of the slumbering'' soldiers. By the French the night was passed in noise and revelry ; but the English were chiefly absorbed in repose, or occupied in making' their last wills and testaments. These were far more suitable employ- ments than the performance of those concerted pieces which would only have disconcerted the plans of their leaders. The moon, which on that occasion was up all night, enabled the CHAP. II.] STATE OF THE FRENCH ARMY. 231 English officers to ascertain the quality of the ground that the French occupied. The Constable stuck the royal banner into the middle of the Calais road, an achievement which the muddy nature of the soil, rendered softer by the drizzly rain, prevented from being at all difficult. The French took the usual means of counteracting the effect of external wet by internal soaking. " Every man," says the chronicler, " dydde drynke lyke a fyshe," though the simile does not hold, for we never yet found one of the finny tribe who was given to the sort of liquor that the French were imbibing before Agincourt. They passed round the cup so rapidly that what with the clayey nature of the soil, and the whirl of excitement into which their heads were thrown, they found it almost impossible to preserve their respective equilibria. They floundered about in the most disgraceful manner, and there was " many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip " on that memorable occasion. In addition to the excesses of the table, they availed themselves of the resources of the multiplication table, by calculating the amount of the ransoms they should receive for the English king and the great barons, whom they made sure of capturing. Thus in the agreeable but delusive occupation of turning their imaginations into poultry-yards, and stocking them with ideal chickens that were never destined to be hatched, did the French pass the night before the battle. Still there was a melancholy mixed with the mirth in the minds of many, who in the midst of the general counting of the phantom pullets found sad thoughts to brood over. It so happened that there were scarcely any musical instruments among the French, and their horses, it was remarked, never once neighed during the night, which was thought to be ominous of bad, for if a dismal foreboding intruded, there was not even an animal to say " neigh " to it. Some of the older and more experienced officers were seized with gloomy anticipations, but they were either coughed, laughed, or clamoured down, and when the veteran Duke of Berri ventured to allude to Poictiers, on which occasion the French had been equally sanguine, he was tauntingly nick-named the Blackberry, for his sombre sentiments. To add to the discomfort of the troops, there was a deficiency of hay and straw for the use of the cavalry. The piece of ground where the horses had been taken in to bait was a perfect pool, in which the poor creatures could be watered, it is true, but could not enjoy any other refreshment. The earth had proved itself indeed a toper according to the song, and had moistened its clay to such a degree, that every one who came in contact with it, found himself placed on a most uncomfortable footing. However resolved the French might have been to make a stand on the day of battle, it was impossible for them to make any stand at all on the night preceding it. At early dawn Henry got up in excellent spirits, and declared himself ready to answer the communication of the French Constable, which he had received some time before, advising him to treat or re-treat, and which had hitherto remained un-responded to- A movement of astonish- 232 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 17. ment was evinced by his followers at the announcement of the English king's intention to reply to the message he had received ; but when he said, " I shall trouble him with three lines, which may extend to three columns," and proceeded to divide his army into that form, the gallant soldiers understood and cheered his meaning. The archers were placed in front, and every one of them had at least four strings to his bow, in the shape of a billhook, a hatchet, a hammer, and a long thick stake, in addition to his stock of arrows. Having made these preparations, Henry mounted a little grey pony, and reviewed his army. He wore his best Sunday helmet, of polished steel, which had received, expressly for the occasion, an extra leathering ; and on the top of that he wore a crown of gold, richly set with jewels In this head-gear, he presented such a dazzling spectacle to the enemy, that it would have been almost as difficult to take an aim at the sun itself as at the blazing and brilliant English leader. As he rode from rank to rank, he had an encouraging word for every soldier ; and his familiar "Ha, Briggs," to one; his cheerful "What, Jones, is that you. Henry inspecting his troops before the Battle of Agincourt. my boy? " to another ; and his invigorating " Up, Smith, and at 'em?" to a third, contributed greatly to increase the confidence of his men and CHAP. II.] BATTLE OF AGINCOURT. 233 strengthen their attachment to their general. "As for ine" he said, " you'll have to pay no ransom for me, as I 've fully made up my mind to die or to conquer." On passing one of the divisions he heard Walter Hungerford — the original proprietor of Hungerford stairs — regretting there were not more of them " What do we want with more ? " ex- claimed Henry, " I would not have an extra man if you would give him me. If we are to fall, the fewer the better, and if we are to conquer I would not have one pair of additional hands to pick a single leaf of our laurels." The French were at least six to one of the English, but the former wers horridly out of condition on the night before the battle. They wore long coats of steel down to their knees, which gave them the look of animated meat screens, and the armour they carried on their legs served to complete the resemblance. " They wore a quantity of harness on the upper part of their bodies," says M. Nicolas, but he does not tell us whether the harness consisted of horse, collars, which by being grinned through would have enabled them to advance towards the foe with a smiling aspect. The ground was remarkably soft, and the French troops being exceedingly heavy they kept sticking in the mud at every step, while the ensigns, who had the additional weight of their flags, got planted in the ground like a row of standards. The horses were up to their knees in no time, and when they attempted to pull up they found the operation quite impossible. Henry had declared he would roll the enemy in the dust, but the wet had laid all the dust, and he must have rolled them in the mud if he had rolled them in anything. The French are said by a recent historian* to have been suffering under a " moral vertigo," but as the vertigo had been brought on by drinking during the previous night, the morality of the " vertigo" will bear questioning They had got themselves into a field between two woods, where they had no room to " deploy" and they were tumbling over each other like a pack of cards, or a regiment of tin soldiers. Though they had im- bibed a large quantity of wine and spirits, the rain, which fell in torrents, only added water to what they had drunk, and threw them into what is technically termed a " groggy" condition. Henry compared them to so many tumblers of rum-and-water, so comical was their appearance as they fell about in a state of soaked stupidity. To increase their con- fusion, the Constable of France was unable to keep order, for several young sprigs of French nobility were all tendering their advice, and thus there were not only cooks enough to spoil the broth, but to make a regular hash of it. At length, about the hour of noon, Henry gave the word to begin, by exclaiming " Banners, advance ! " and at the same moment Sir Thomas Erpingham, a grey old knight, who appears to have been a kind of military Pantaloon, threw his truncheon into the air with true panto- mimic activity. " Now, strike ! " exclaimed the veteran, as he performed this piece of buffoonery, and followed it up with the words " Go it ! " "At 'em again!" "Serve 'em right!" and "Give it 'em." The French * Mac Farlane. Cabinet History, vol. v. page 21. 234 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. fought bravely, and Messire Clignet, of Brabant, charged with twelve hundred horse, exclaiming "Mountjoye, St. Denis! " when down he fell, on the soft and slippery ground, like a horse on the wooden pavement. Everywhere the French cavalry cut the most eccentric capers; and even when there was an opportunity of advancing, the advantage seemed to slip from under them, for the ground was as bad as ground glass to stand upon. The English archers rushed among the steel-clad knights, who were as stiff as so many pokers — though not one of them could stir — and they were thus caught in their own steel traps, or trappings. The Constable of France was killed, and the flower of the French chivalry was nipped in the bud, or, rather, experienced a blow of a fatal tharacter. " This is a very hard case, indeed," roared one of the victims, as he pointed to his suit of steel, which rendered him incapable of fighting or running away, though he was quite ready for either. But the hardest part of all was the softness of the ground, into which the French kept sinking so rapidly that they might as well have fought on the Goodwin Sands as on the field of Agincourt. The weight of their armour caused them to disappear every now and then, like the Light of All Nations, on the spot we have just named, and an old French warrior — one of the heavy fathers of that day — was seen to subside so completely in the mud, that in a few minutes he had left only his hair apparent. The English, who were lightly clad, kept up wonderfully under the fatigues of the day, and some of them performed prodigies of valour. Henry himself seems to have acquitted himself in a style quite worthy of Shaw, or Pshaw, the Life Guardsman. His Majesty was charged by a band of eighteen knights, whom it is said he overcame, but it is much more likely that finding themselves ready to sink into the earth, they were compelled to knock under. Their cause was desperate, it was neck or nothing with many ; but as they became immersed in the soil by degrees, it was neck first, and nothing shortly afterwards. The Duke of Alencon made a momentary effort to be vigorous, in spite of his steel petticoats, and gave Hemy a blow on the head that broke off a bit of the crown which he had been wearing, over his helmet. This embarras des chapeaux, or inconvenient super- fluity of hats, was a weakness Henry was subject to, and there was nc* harm in his being made to pay for it. The Duke of Alencon had no sooner broken the king's crown than he received a fracture in his own, which proved fatal. The battle was now over, and the English began to secure prisoners, taking from each captive his cap, or hat, but it is to be presumed giving a ticket to each, by which all would get back their own helmets. Henry having taken it into his head that the battle was going to be renewed, ordered the prisoners to be killed ; but he afterwards apologised for his mistake, though posterity has never been satisfied with the excuse he offered. As far as we have been able to learn the particulars of this atrocious blunder, it arose in the following manner. The priests of the English army — with a sort of instinctive CHAP. II.] PJLUNDEKING THE SLAIN. 235 tendency to taking care of themselves — were sitting amongst the baggage. Henry, hearing a noise among the reverend gentlemen, looked round, English Soldier securing Prisoner at the Battle of Agincourt. and found them apparently threatened with an attack from what he thought was a hostile force, but which turned out to be a few peasants, who were scrambling with the priests for a share of the luggage. This attempted appropriation of church property was resisted by a vigorous ecclesiastical clamour, which led Henry to believe there had been a rally among the foe, and that the priests were giving the signal Had he been aware that they were crying out before they were hurt, there is eveiy reason to believe that he would not have issued the mandate which has so much compromised his otherwise fair average character. The French loss at the battle of Agincourt was quite incredible, but not a bit the less historical on that account, for if history were to reject all that cannot be believed, its dimensions would be fearfully crippled. The English, sinking under the weight of their booty, as well as the mud on their boots, marched towards Calais. Henry s army was reduced almost to a skeleton, but he used to say jocosely, that with that skeleton key he would find an opening anywhere. Though rich in conquest, he was short of cash, and as England was always the place for getting 236 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. money, he determined on hastening thither. The people received him with enthusiasm, and at Dover they rushed into the sea to carry him on shore, so that he literally came in on the shoulders of the people. Proud of this popular pickaback, he made a speech amid the general ■waving of hats, which was responded to by the gentle waving of the ocean. The tide, however, began to rise, when Henry cut short the proceedings of the meeting between himself and his subjects by ex- claiming, " But on, my friends, to the shore, for this is not the place for dry discussion." On his way up to town each city vied with the other in loyalty. Eochester contended with Canterbury, Chatham struggled with Graves- end, and Blackheath entered into a single combat with Greenwich ; Deptford ran itself into debt, which it retains nominally to this day ; and the Bricklayers presented their arms to Henry as he passed into the metropolis. In London he was met by the Lords and Commons, the mayor, aldermen, and citizens ; but the sweetest music was that made by the wine as it poured down the streets, and caught a guttural sound as it turned into the gutters. Many a bottle of fine old crusted port was mulled by being thrown into the thoroughfare, and though it might have been good enough to have spoken for itself, it ran itself down through the highways with much energy. Nor was this enthusiasm confined to hollow words, for all the supplies which the king requested were freely voted him. It was only for Henry to ask and have, at this auspicious moment ; and if, like some children, he had cried for the moon, it is not unlikely that his subjects, in the excess of their loyalty, would have promised to give it him. In the spring of the year 1416, London was enlivened by a visit from the Emperor Sigismund. He imparted considerable gaiety to the season, and his entry into the city gave occasion for a general holiday. His object was to endeavour to effect a coalition between the tw T o rival popes, and to get the kings of France and England to make it up if possible. He was followed by some French ambassadors who marred the harmony of the procession by looking daggers at the English nobles. Occasionally they proceeded from glances to gibes, which naturally led to pushes, that were only prevented from coming to blows by the sudden turning round of the emperor whenever he heard a disturbance going on amongst those who followed him. During Sigismund's stay in town, the French besieged Harfluer, which was guarded by the Earl of Dorset and a most unhealthy garrison. Toothache, elephantiasis, and sciatica, had so reduced, the spirit of the English force that the Duke of Bedford, the king's brother, was sent to aid the Earl of Dorset, and the poor old pump was grateful for this timely succour. Bedford having put matters quite straight, returned to England, and Henry proposed a run over to Calais with his imperial visitor, Sigismund. Here a sort of Congress was held, at which Henry made himself so popular, that his rights to the French throne were partially recognised. France was at this CHiLP. II. J SIEGE OF ROUEN. 1>37 juncture in a very unpromising condition, for the royal family did nothing but quarrel and murder one another's favourites Isabella, the queen, lived in hostility with the king, who arrested several of his wife's servants, and had one of them, whose name was Bois-Bourdon, sewn up in a leather-bag and thrown into the Seine, from which the notion of giving a servant the sack, on the occasion of his getting his discharge, no doubt takes its origin. The Dauphin John having died, he was succeeded by his brother Charles, a boy of sixteen, who was continually fighting with his own mother, and getting a good deal the worst of it. This state of things tempted Henry to bring an army into France in August, 1417, when, after the surrender of a few smaller places, he took Caen by assault, or rather by a good Caen pepper. In the ensuing year he undertook several sieges at once,and played with his artillery upon Cherbourg, Damfront, Louviers, and Pont de l'Arche as easily as the musician who plays simul- taneously on six different instruments. His next important undertaking was the siege of Kouen, before which he sat down, and having looked at it through his glass, he made up his mind that starving it out was the only method of taking it. The inhabitants held out for some time on their provisions, but these being exhausted, they began to devour all sorts of trash, that was never intended for culinary purposes. Soupe au shoe became a common dish, and though for a brief period they had mutton chop en papillotes they were at last reduced to the papillotes without the meat, but with their tremendous twists they of course could not be expected to make a satisfactory meal cff curl-papers. They accordingly surrendered, and Henry, on the 16th of Jannary, 1419, entered Bouen, where ambassadors from the various factions in France were sent to him. He was, however, quite open to all, but decidedly influenced by none, and had a polite word for each, but a wink for those in his con- fidence, as he administered the blarney to the various legates. At length it was agreed that he should have an interview with the king and queen of France and the Duke of Burgundy. The French sovereign was not presentable when the day came, for excessive indulgence in wine had reduced him to a state from which all the soda-water in the world could not, at that moment, have recovered him. Henry, therefore, met the queen, who was attended by her lovely daughter, the Princess Catharine, and her cousin of Burgundy, while the English king was supported by his brothers, Clarence and Gloucester. The meeting was exceedingly ceremonious, and was con- ducted a good deal in the style of a medley dance, comprising the minuet, the figure Pastorale in the first set of quadrilles, and Sir Koger de Coverley. At a signal announced by the striking up of some music, Henry advanced first, performing as it were the cavalier seal, when the Princess Catharine and the Queen, with the Duke of Burgundy between them also advanced, until all met in the centre. Henry bowed to the queen, and took her hand, and then did the same with the Princess Catharine, a movement resembling the celebrated chaine des dames — 238 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [book rv. and Burgundy fell in gracefully with what was going on by an occa- sional balancez to complete the action of the second couple. The Duke of Burgundy introducing Queen Isabella and his daughter to Henry V. This was the first occasion upon which Henry had seen his intended oride, and whether in earnest or in sham, he appeared to he at once struck by her surpassing beauty. He enacted the lover at first sight with a vigour that would have secured him a livelihood as a walking gentleman, had he lived in our own time, and been dependent for sup- port on his theatrical abilities. The whole day was spent in formalities, and Henry sat opposite to the princess till the close of the interview, looking unutterable things, for she was so far off that it would have been vain to have uttered any thing. In two days afterwards Henry and the queen paid each other a second formal visit ; but -the English king looked in vain for the young lady, who like a true coquette, seems CHAP. TI.J MURDER OF BURGUNDY. 239 to have kept away for the purpose of increasing the impatience of her lover. Her mother, with the tact of an old match-maker, tried to get the best possible terms from Henry; but with all his affection, he would not stir from his resolution, to insist on having the possession of Normandy and a few other perquisites as the young lady's dowiy. The French queen pretended to take time to consider his proposal, and seven formal interviews were held ; but all of them were of so dull, stately, and slow a character, that no progress was made at any one of them. The fact is, that Hemy was being humbugged, and if he had suspected as much during the seven first meetings, he was convinced of it at that, which should have been the eighth, for on going to keep his appointment he found neither the queen, the duke, the princess, nor any of the attendants of either of them. All ceremony was at an end, the diplomatic quadrille parties were broken up, and Henry, disgusted at having been made to dance attendance for nothing at all, became so angry that his brain began a reel on its own account, and he set off to his own quarters in a galop. He ascertained the truth to be, that the Queen and Burgundy had made it up with the Dauphin, whom they had gone to join, and the precious trio having sworn eternal friendship to each other, added a clause to the affidavit for the purpose of swearing eternal hatred to all Englishmen. Tired of kicking his heels about to no purpose, Hemy determined on practising some entirely new steps ; the first of which was to advance upon Pontoise and chassez the inhabitants. He then pushed on towards Paris, when Burgundy, fearful of a rencontre, retired from St. Denis, where he had taken up his position. Henry again offered to treat, but in sending in the particulars of his demand he added Pontoise to the list of places he should require to be transferred to his possession. The alliance between the Dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy was as hollow as the hollow beech tree rendered famous by a series of single knocks at the hands, or, rather, at the beak, of the woodpecker. After a little negotiation, and a great deal of treachery, Burgundy, in spite of the warnings of several of his servants, was induced to visit the Dauphin at Montereau. The duke went unarmed, on the assurance that he should return unharmed, and instead of his helmet he wore a velvet cap, which one of his attendants declared was a wonderful proof of soft- headedness. Burgundy, on coming into the presence of the heir to the throne of France, bent his knee ; when the President of Provence whispered something in the Dauphin's ear, and both began winking fear- fully at a man with a battle-axe. The man with the battle-axe gave a significant nod, and dropped his weapon, as if by mistake, upon Bur- gundy ; when the Sire de Navailles, a friend of the Duke, pointing to the fearful dent the axe had made, exclaimed, " This is not a mere accident." This was immediately obvious ; for several others rushed upon poor Burgundy, who devoted his last breath to exclaiming to the Dauphin, " You are an ass — ass — " for he died before he could get out the word ass — ass — in. 240 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. Young Philip, the heir of Jean Sans-peur — or Jack Dreadnought, as we should have translated this nickname of the Duke of Burgundy — succeeded to his father's estates, as well as becoming residuary legatee of the affections of most of his subjects. The Dauphin's foul deed was execrated on all sides ; for though the state of morals was low at the period of which we write, there was always a certain love of fair play inherent in the human character. The younger Burgundy was in a state of effervescence, and though he kept bottled up for a short time, his rage soon spirted out with fearful vehemence. He entered into a coalition with Henry, who stipulated for the hand of the Princess Ca- tharine in possession, with the crown of France in reversion, and a few ether trifling contingencies. In the year 1420, one day in the month of April — probably the first — the imbecile Charles, guided by Queen Isabella and the Duke of Burgundy, put his hand to the treaty. The unhappy monarch was in his usual state, when a pen having been thrust into his grasp, and while somebody held the document, somebody else directed the motion of the royal fingers. The treaty thus became dis- figured by a series of scratches and blots which were declared to be the king's signature. An appendix to this document contained a fulsome panegyric on the English king, which wound up with a declaration of his fitness to succeed to the French crown, because " he had a noble person and a pleasing countenance. " This shallow argument was intended to lead to the conclusion that he would treat his subjects handsomely; or that, at all events, should he ever reign over France, that his rule would not be without some very agreeable features. In May of the same year — 1420 — Henry started for Troyes, where the young Duke of Burgundy, and the French royal family were sojourning. The English king was all impatience to see^is bride, and he found her sitting with her papa and mamma in the church of Saint Peter. They had intended a little surprise for their illustrious visitor, and everything being ready beforehand, he was affianced on the spot to the lovely Catharine. They were regularly married on the 2nd of June, and some of the gay young nobles hoped there would be a series of balls, dinner parties, and tournaments, in celebration of the wedding : Henry, however, declared he would have "no fuss," but that those who wanted to show their skill in jousting and tourneying might accompany him to Sens, which he purposed besieging on the second day after his marriage. He declined participating in the child's play of a tournament when there was so much real work to be done, "and as to feasting," he exclaimed, " let us give the people of Sens their whack, or, at all events, if we are to have a good blow-out, it must be by blowing the enemy out of the citadel." He proceeded at once with his beautiful bride from Troyes, and soon reaching Sens, lie in two days frightened the inhabitants out of their Senses. They surrendered, and he then advanced to Monte- reau, which he took by assault — or rather, as one of the merry old chroniclers hath it, " which he took, not so much by assault as by a pepper." After besieging a few other places in France, Henry, in con- CHAP. H.J QUEEN CATHERINE CROWNED HENRY'S DEATTI. 241 junction with Charles, the French king, made a triumphal entry into Paris. The inhabitants of that city gave him an enthusiastic reception, for, like the populace in every period, they were delighted at anything in the shape of change, and paid the utmost respect to those from whom .they had experienced the greatest injury. In January, 1421, Henry heing very short of cash, determined on going home to England, which was even in those days the most liberal paymaster to popular favourites. Having with him a good-looking queen, his reception in his own country was most gratifying, for the old clap-trap about " lovely woman " was inherent from the earliest periods in the English character. This fascinating female was crowned at Westminster Abbey with tremendous pomp, and the happy couple went " starring it " about the country in a royal progress immediately after- wards. Their success in the provinces was immense ; but their pleasant engagements in their own country were soon brought to an end by the announcement that France was still in a state of turbulence, requiring the immediate presence of Heniy in Paris. Having warmed his subjects' hearts, he struck while the iron was hot, and took an aim at their pockets. Parliament was hi a capital humour, and came out splendidly with pecuniary votes for a new expedition. He left the queen at Windsor Castle, where she shortly after gave birth to a son ; and having landed a large but very miscellaneous army at Calais, Henry marched to Paris, to reinforce the Duke of Exeter, who nad been left there as governor. The English were successful at all points, and Queen Catherine having joined her husband, they held their court at the Louvre, where they sat in their coronation robes*, with their crowns on their heads, as naturally as if they had formed a part of " the Pioyal Family at Home " in Madame Tussaud's far-famed collection of wax- work. In the midst of his victorious career in France, Henry had started off to the relief of a town invested by the Dauphin — an investment that was profitable to nobody. The English king had reached Corbeil, when lie was taken suddenly ill, and throwing himself on a litter, he declared himself to be literally tired out with his exertions. Having been taken home to the neighbourhood of Vincennes, and put to bed, he summoned his brother, the Duke of Bedford, and some other nobles, to whom he recommended amity ; but, above all, he advised them to continue the alliance with Burgundy, whose habit of sticking to his friends has given the name of Burgundy to the well-known pitch plaster. Having -appointed his brothers Gloucester and Bedford regents, the one for England and the other for France, during the minority of his son, he seemed perfectly resigned ; but his attendants literally roared like a parcel of children, so that he was compelled to tell them that crying would do no good to anybody. He died on the 3 1st of August, 1422, aged thirty-four, having reigned ten years with some credit to himself, and in full, as far as conquest may be desirable, with advantage to his country. R 242 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. On the death of a king, it had been usual for the attendants to rush helter-skelter out of the room, and ransack the house of the deceased monarch, while his successor generally made the best of his way down to the treasury. Henry V. was an exception to the rule, for he had earned so much respect in his lifetime, that at his death there was no indecorum, but a desire was manifested to give him the benefit of a decent, and indeed a magnificent, funeral. When a king of England had died abroad on previous occasions, his remains were seldom thought worthy of the expense of carriage to his own country ; but in this instance no outlay was considered too extravagant to bestow on the funeral procession of the sovereign. Hundreds of mutes followed, with that mute solemnity which is the origin of their name ; and on this occasion there were hundreds of knights, all in the deepest mourning. Several esquires had their armour blackleaded, and their plumes dyed in ink, while the king of Scotland acted as chief mourner, and the widow of the deceased sovereign came in at the end of the gloomy retinue. On its arrival in England, when it drew near London, fifteen bishops popped on their pontifical attire, and ran to meet it ; while the abbots, taking down their mitres from the hat-pegs in the halls of their houses,, sallied forth to join the sad procession. The remains of the king were carried to Westminster Abbey, and consigned to the tomb with every token of esteem, and the reverence it had been customary to show to the rising sun alone, was on this occasion extended to the luminary that had just set in unusual glory. The queen, desirous of evincing her affection for such a prince, caused a silver-gilt statue as large as life to be placed on the top of his monument. This piece of extravagance was, however, before the invention of British Plate, or that " perfect substitute for silver," which is a perfect substitute in everything but value, strength, purity, appearance, and durability. In painting the character of Henry V., the English historians have used the most brilliant colours, while the French writers have thrown in some shades of the most Indian-inky blackness. The former have been lavish in the use of couleur de rose, while the latter have selected the very darkest hues, and, indeed, produced a picture resembling those dingy profiles which give a hard outline of the features, but render it impossible for us to judge of the aspect or complexion of the original. It is for us to look at both sides, like the apparently inconsistent pen- dulum, which, by constantly oscillating from right to left, becomes the instrument of furnishing a faithful record of the time. Henry V. was devoted to the happiness of his people; but be had sometimes an odd way of showing his attachment, by ill-using the few for the satisfaction of the many. Thus, he persecuted the Lollards in the most cruel manner, out of the purest condescension towards the clergy, who had got up a clamour against the sect alluded to. This obliging disposition may be carried too far, when it urges the commission of an injustice to one party, in order to favour another, and the persecution of the Lollards at the call of the clergy was a good deal like an acquiescence CHAP. II. ] CHARACTER OF HENRY V. 243 in a cry of '"' throw him over" got up in the gallery of a theatre, against some unfortunate who may have incurred the momentary displeasure of a " generous British audience." The military exploits of Henry V. have been praised by English historians ; but the French writers have contrived to show, that even the battle of Agincourt was nothing more than a mistake, like the one which happened at Waterloo, about four centuries afterwards. " He ought to have been conquered at Agincourt," say the annalists of France ; but we are quite content that his conduct was not precisely what it ought to have been — according to them — on this great occasion. Some praise has been given him for his tact in negotiating with the Duke of Burgundy and the Dauphin at the same time; but we must confess that our notions of honour do not permit us to approve the act of temporising with two parties for the purpose of joining that which might prove to be the strongest He was brave beyond a doubt, but he was cruel in the treatment of some of the prisoners who fell into his hands, and we cannot give him the benefit of the presumption suggested by a French historian, that if he hanged a quantity of unfor- tunate captives, he had probably very good reasons of his own for doing so.* Among the other defects attributed to the character of Henry V. is a degree of shabbiness towards the people in his employ, whom he is said to have paid very inadequately for their services. Considering, however, that the liberality of kings is often practised at the expense of the people, and that Henry was so crippled in his own means, that the crown jewels were, on one occasion, pawned, we have no right to blame him for refusing to reward his soldiers with what could only have been the proceeds of plunder. In person Henry V. was tall and majestic, but his neck was a little too long, which may have given him that supercilious air for which some of his biographers have censured him. In his social habits he resembled the celebrated Mynheer Von Dunk of anti-intoxication notoriety, for Henry " never got drunk " even with success, which is of all things the most fatal to temperance. * Pour les autres qui furent executes dans le mime terns fen ignore Ics raisons niais il est a presumer, &c, dec. — Rapin, torn, iii., p. 504. R2 244 COMIC HTSTORY OF ENGLAND. [ROOK IV. CHAPTER THE THIRD. HENRY THE SIXTH, SUENAMED OF WINDSOR. the Sixth was not out of his long frocks when he came to the throne, for he had not yet completed the ninth month of his little existence. Though he succeeded peacefully to the crown, he was in arms from the first hour of his reign; and though he was not born literally with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had one there on his accession to the throne, for he was being fed at the very moment that the news of Ins father's death was announced in the royal nur- sery. It is easy to conceive the interesting proceedings that took place on its being proclaimed, that the child, then in the act of having its food, had become the King of England. A clean bib was instantly brought, and he was apostrophised as a little " Kingsey Pingsey" — a " Monarchy Ponarchy," — and was addressed by many other of those titles of affectionate loyalty, which are to be found nowhere but in the nursery dialect. A parliament was sum- moned to meet in November, 1422, and the regency being a good thing, there commenced a desperate struggle as to who should be allowed to have and to hold the baby. The Duke of Gloucester claimed the post of nurse, in the absence of his elder brother the Duke of Bedford. The lords named the latter president of the council, but while he was away the former was permitted to act as his deputy, and, what was more to Gloucester's purpose, he was allowed to receive the salary of £5,333 per annum. Having got the money and the power, Gloucester was not parti- cularly anxious to have the charge of the royal baby, who was accord ingly handed over to the Earl of Warwick, jointly with Henry Beaufort, IJHAP. III. J ACCESSION OF HENRY VI. 215 Bishop of Winchester, a half-brother of Henry IV., who had also a high seat — convenient, by the way, for the infant king — in the council. This Beaufcrt was the second son of John of Gaunt, and founder of the illustrious family of the Beau^orts, who derive their original nobility from an ancestor who was beau and fort — strong as well as good-looking. If aristocracy in these days were derivable from the same source, the handsome and brawny drayman might take his seat in the House of Lords, while ticket-porters, coalheavers, railway navigators, and other representatives of the physical force party would constitute an extensive peerage, of what dramatic authors, when they write for the gallery, are in the habit of apostrophising as " Nature's noblemen." The Beauforts, besides the good looks and strength of their founder, had collateral claims to muscular eminence. The uncle of the first Beaufort was called John Df Gaunt, from his gaunt or gigantic stature; and one of the family had been, in 1397, created Duke of Somerset, most likely on account of the somersets he was able to turn by sheer force of sinew We beg pardon for this slight digression, but as there are many who take a deep and reverential interest in everything appertaining to rank, it may be gratifying to them to know the precise origin of some of our most ancient and most aristocratic families. Let us then resume the thread of our history. Bedford was still in France, and, in the month of October, King Charles VI. expired at Paris. The Dauphin was at Auvergne, with a set of six or seven seedy followers, who could not muster the means of proclaiming him in a respectable manner. They hurried off altogether to a little road-side chapel, and having one banner among the whole lot, with the French arms upon it, they raised it amid feeble shouts of " Long live the King," aided by a few " hurrahs" from some urchins on the exterior of the building. This farce having been performed, and the title given to it of " The proclamation of Charles the VII," the party repaired to lun v cheon at the King's lodgings. Having come into a little money by the death of his father, he went with a few friends to Poictiers, where a coronation, upon a limited scale, was performed, at an expense exceed- ingly moderate. While this contemptible affair was going on in a French province, the Duke of Bedford was busy, in Paris, getting up a demonstration in favour of the infant Henry. Fealty was sworn towards the British baby in various great towns of France ; and Bedford, anxious to cement the alliance with Burgundy, married the Duke's sister, Anne ; though it seems strange that he should have calculated upon a marriage as a source of harmony. He must have had a strong faith in wedded life, to have anticipated a good understanding as the effect of that which so frequently opens the door to perpetual discord. While Bedford was making strenuous exertions to promote the as- cendancy of the English in. France, the nominal King of that country. Charles the VII., had given himself up to selfish indulgences. His . 240 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. energies were diluted in drink ; but a few vigorous men, who were about him, forced him occasionally into the field, from which he always sneaked out on the first opportunity. He was compelled to engage in two or three actions, and was defeated in all, though he had the benefit of about seven thousand Scotch, under the command of the Earl of Buchan ; and threatened to cure, his enemies of their hostility by administering a few doses of Buchan 's domestic medicine. After two or three reverses, Charles thought his army strong enough to attempt to relieve the town of Ivry, which, in the summer of 1424, was besieged by the Duke of Bedford. Charles's force consisted of a strange mixture of Scotchmen, Italians, and Frenchmen, who were all continually giving way to their national preju- dices, and quarrelling in broken French, broken Italian, or broken Scotch, — which is a dialect something between a sneeze, a snore, and a howl, spiced with a dash of gutturalism, and mixed together in a whine of surpassing mournfujness. The French declared the Scotch were mer- cenaries, who had an ' : itching palm"; but the Scotch savagely replied, that " they came to the scratch with a true itch for glory." While the three parties were engaged in a vigorous self-assertion, and were loud in praise of their 6wn valour, they caught a glimpse of the English force — and, halting in dismay, retreated without drawing a sword. The garrison of Ivry, which had been waiting the approach of its friends, who were to do such wonders, and had been watching the scene with intense anxiety from the battlements, could only murmur out the words " pitiful humbugs," and surrender at discretion. By some lucky chance — or, as other historians have it, by the revolt of the inhabitants — Charles and his mongrel army had got possession of the town of Vemeuil, which was a very strong position. They had scarcely got snugly in, when the Duke of Bedford presented himself before the walls, and a council was instantly held, to consider how they should get out again. Everybody talked at once, and a mixed jargon of Scotch and French, flavoured occasionally with a little Italian sauce, was the only result of the deliberation of the gallant army. At length, by common consent, they ran away, preferring to fight in an open field, if they must fight at all — for there would then be more margin for escape, or latitude for bolting, in the event of then: getting the worst of it. So rapid was their desertion of the town, that they left behind them all their luggage, which was perhaps a wise precaution, for they were thus enabled to run the faster, in case of having to execute a retreat, which was one of the military manoeuvres in which they had had the most experience. The two armies were now in presence of each other, and on both sides the feeling was like that of the young lady who " wondered when them figures was a going to move," at an exhibition of wax- work. The Earl of Douglas, with Scotch caution, wanted to wait, but the Count of Narbonne, with French impetuosity, was for making a beginning, and rushed forward, shouting " Mountjoye St, Denis!" — which was synony- tJHAP. III.] JACQUELINE OF HAINAULT. 247 inous, in those days, with " Go it !" in ours. The whole line followed, helter-skelter and pell-mell, so that when they got up to the stakes the English had run into the ground — to show, perhaps, they had a stake in the country — the French were out of breath, out of sorts, and out of order. They were miserably panting, but not panting for glory, and the punches in the ribs they got from the English, made them roar out like so many paviours in full work — as they always are — down Fleet Street. Their temporary want of wind was soon changed into permanent breathlessness, and thus, in spite of all their boasting, there was a miserable end to their puffing. The battle was very severe, for they had been " at it " for three hours. Douglas, it being before the time when " the blood of Douglas could pro- tect itself," was slain. Buchan, who had been taunted by his allies with being nothing better than a buccaneer, also fell, and the French lost a countless number of Counts, as well as a host of miscellaneous soldiers. The Italians, who had boastingly called themselves the Italian cream of the army, turned out to be the merest milk-sops, and kept as much out of harm's way as possible. The Duke of Bedford ordered the heads of several prisoners to be cut off, and the Bedford executions were so numerous, that the headsman's axe got the name of "the Bedford level." The battle of Verneuil had been fought on the 17th of August, 1424, and Charles the Seventh seemed on the eve of bankruptcy, both in cash and credit. His money was all gone, and his friends had — of course — gone after it. Fortune, however, favoured him, at the expense of his enemies, for they began to disagree with each other. To say that there was a quarrel is equivalent to saying that there was a woman in the case, and the woman was — upon this occasion — .the celebrated Jacque- line of Hainault. This prize specimen of a 7irago was the daughter of the Count of Hainault, and the niece of John the Merciless, from whom she inherited all that coarse unwomanly bluster, which, in one of the fair sex, is called by courtesy " a proper spirit." She had been married to a little bit of a boy of fifteen, her cousin-german and her godson, — an urchin commonly known as John Duke of Brabant. Jacqueline, who was beautiful and bold, was no match; or, rather, was more than a match — for a stripling not half way through his teens at the time of his marriage. The puny lad had got into bad company, and was surrounded by a set of low favourites. The masculine Jacqueline was not exactly the woman to submit tamely to any injury, and taking offence at one of her boy-husband's friends, she had him murdered. This stamped her as that most objectionable of characters, an acknow- ledged heroine, and she became " a woman of strong mind" in all the chronicles of the period. Her liliputian husband was persuaded to retaliate by dismissing all his wife's ladies-in-waiting, upon which Jacque- line became a greater vixen than ever. After a powerful scene of domestic pantomime, in which she alter- nately tore her hair and that of her husband, she declared her determination to leave him. " A thplendid riddanthe." lisped the 248 CO.MIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fEOOK IV. aggravating boy ; upon which Jacqueline, making another rush at his hair, and taking a large lock of it in her hands — not, howewer, to be preserved as a pledge of affection — she hurried off to Valenciennes, and thence to Calais. The runaway next made for England, where she remained on a visit with Henry's queen, Catherine, at Windsor Castle- Here she soon began flirting with the king's brother, the Duke of Gloucester, and though the poor man was not deeply in love with her, he was persuaded to agree to a marriage. Jacqueline being already the wife of another, was compelled to seek a dispensation from Pope Martin Vi, but he looked at the matter with an unfavourable eye when Jacqueline making a coarse allusion to her own eye, and a female branch of the Martin family, despatched a messenger to the opposition pope, the thirteenth Benedict. Being a Benedict he could not consistently oppose a marriage, and he granted the dispensation immediately. Gloucester, who had determined on making his new wife profitable, ii she could not be pleasant, claimed without delay her possessions in Hain- ault, Holland, and elsewhere, which she had inherited. It was a few- weeks after the battle of Verneuil, which we have recently described, that Gloucester and his considerably better-half — in quantity if not in quality — started off with a large army to take possession of Hainault. They soon frightened the inhabitants of the capital, of which they made themselves master and mistress, without any previous warning, Philip,. Duke of Burgundy, the uncle of the boy-Duke of Brabant, was very angry at the lad's wife coming to cheat the boy, as it were, out of his property. After a good deal of hard struggling to keep his position at Hainault, Gloucester came to the determination that his wife was- not worth the bother she occasioned him, and he accordingly went home, leaving her to defend herself as well as she could, when she was instantly besieged, given up to the Duke of Burgundy, by the- inhabitants of Mons, and sent to Ghent in close imprisonment. Neither bolts nor bars could restrain the impetuosity of this tremendous woman, who burst from her prison, and putting on male- attire, which became her much better than her own, she escaped into Holland. It was not to be expected that a fighting woman would remain very long without followers, and the "Hainault Slasher" — as Jacqueline might justly be called — soon mustered a strong party in her favour. The novelty of going to battle with a woman for a leader told well at first, but as the attraction wore off her soldiers dwindled away by degrees, until her forces became utterly insignificant. Even her chosen Gloucester took advantage of her absence to treat his marriage as a nullity, and to unite himself with Miss Eleanor, the daughter of Lord Cobham. The desertion of the husband she preferred was in some degree compensated by the death of the husband she hated, for the boy-Duke of Brabant lived only until April, 1427, and thus, by the abandonment of one, and the decease of the other, she became doubly dowagered. Still she continued to struggle with the Duke oS CHAP. III. J SIEGE OF ORLEANS — JOAN OF ARC. 249 Burgundy, but she was now advancing in years, and her efforts becama perfectly old-womanish. The summer of 1428 was the means of bringing her to her senses, for she was severely drubbed by the Duke, and finally quelled in a career as unbecoming to her age and sex as it was inimical to her interest. She agreed to recognise Burgundy as direct heir, at her death, to all she possessed, and he made her hand over everything at once, which was a capital plan for making sure of his inheritance. We have, however, devoted to the Hainault vixen more time and space than she is perhaps worth, but we have thought it better to dispose of her off-hand, to prevent so disagreeable a person from again intruding herself on the pages of our history. From the time the English took possession of Paris, Orleans, like a ripe and tempting Orleans plum, had been the object of their desires. The French knew the importance of the place, and had concentrated within it ammunition, eatables, and stores of every description. Barrels of beef, and barrels of gunpowder — hams and jams — wine for the garrison and grape for the foe — preserves for themselves and destruc- tives for their enemies, were laid up in abundance in the city of Orleans. In addition to all these articles, enormous supplies of corn had been poured into the place, which contained something superior even to the corn, for it held all the flower of the French nobility. Regardless of these facts, the Earl of Salisbury began to attack the city, and the English commenced an attempt to scale the walls, but having some- missiles thrown at them from above, those engaged in the scale soon lost their balance. Salisbury, nevertheless, persevered by attacking some other point; but the garrison determined to pay him off, and having recourse to their shells, they shelled out with such effect as to kill the English leader. Salisbury was succeeded by the Earl of Suffolk, who employed the winter of 1428 in cutting trenches round the- city, and throwing up redoubts, which rendered him very redoubtable. Orleans was thus cut off from the chance of further supplies, and the awful words, "When that's all gone you'll have no more," began to be whispered into the ears of the inhabitants. Charles himself was for surrendering, and several mealy-mouthed courtiers, who feared they should soon be without a meal for their mouths, seconded the king in his pusillanimous project. Others were for holding out instead of giving in, and Charles's fortune seemed to be at the lowest ebb, when a letter arrived from one of the posts to announce the prospect of an early deliver} 7 . This early delivery was not, however, to be looked for by the mail, but by that illustrious female, Joan of Arc, familiarly known as the Maid of Orleans. Charles, who had little faith in the power of a female to get one out of a scrape, and who believed the tendency of the interference of the sex to be a good deal the other way, burst out into a fit of immoderate laughter at hearing the news that had been brought to him. "Never laughed so much in my life," occasionally ejaculated the French king, as the tears rolled 250 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK IT. down his cheeks, in douhle-distilled drops of the extract of merriment. He, nevertheless, granted her permission to give him a look-in when she was coming that way ; hut it was more from curiosity, or to have another hearty laugh at the Maid's expense, that he consented to an interview. Joan arrived, with her squires and four servants ; but even this retinue, small as it was, must have been larger than her narrow circumstances could have fairly warranted. The two squires could have got in the service of two knights a certain sum per day, and the four servants, at a time when war was being waged, might have obtained better wages than a poor and friendless girl could possibly have paid to them. These, or similar reflections, occurred to some of the people about the court of Charles, who, considering that Joan must be an impostor, advised his Majesty to have nothing to do with her. At all events, it was deemed as well that her previous history should be known ; and as the reader may wish for the character of the Maid, before permitting her to engage even his attention, we will, at once, say what we know concerning her Joan was the child of a brace of peasants, in a wild and hilly district of Lorraine, on the borders of Champagne, a country of which she seems in a great degree to have imbibed the qualities. Living in the neigh- bourhood of the sparkling and effervescing Champagne, her head became turned, or, at least, began to be filled with those bold aspirations which the genius loci might have had some share in engendering. It is undeniable that when a mere child, she delighted to roam about for the purpose of drinking at the great fountain of inspiration, which Champagne so abund- antly supplies, and she would often go on until she heard voices — or a sort of singing in her ears — which told her she was destined for great achievements. Her birth-place was a short distance from the town of Vaucouleurs, at a little hamlet called Domremy, into which faction and dissatisfaction had so far forced their way, that the children used to pelt the children of the next village with mud and stones, on account of their political differences. Joan's attachment to her native soil caused her to be among the foremost of those who took up earth by handfulls, and threw each other's birth-place in each other's faces. Being in the habit of holding horses at a watering-house on the Lorraine road, she frequently heard the conversations of the waggoners, and, amid their " Gee-wos !" the woes of France were sometimes spoken of. Invisible-voices now began to tell her that she was destined to set everything to-rights, and to be her country's deliverer. Though her father called it " all stuff and nonsense," she had talked over an old uncle, a cartwright at Vaucouleurs, whom she persuaded of her fitness to repair the common weal, and the honest cartwright promised to assist her in putting a spoke into it. The brace of peasants were annoyed at the very high-flown notions of their offspring, and when she talked of going to King Charles, they asked her where the money was to come from for the purposes of her journey. Joan immediately had a convenient dream, appointing the governor of Vau- couleurs, one Sire de Baudricourt, her banker on this occasion. CHAP. III.J INTERVIEW OF JOAN OF ARC WITH CHARLES. 251 Under the guidance of her uncle, she visited the Sire, and told him the high honour her visions had awarded him. in naming him treasurer to her contemplated expedition. The Sire, not at all eager to become a banker on such unprofitable terms, refused at first to hear her storj, or indeed to allow her to open an account, so that the first check she received was somewhat discouraging. He suggested that she should be sent home to her father with a strong recommendation to him to take a rod and whip all the rhodomontade completely out of her. Joan, however, cared little for what might be in pickle for herself while she was bent on preserving her country. She went constantly to the house of the Sire de Baudricourt, but he never allowed her to be let in, for he verily believed it would only have been opening the door to imposition. At length, more out of pity to his hall-porter than from any other motive, the Governor agreed to see that troublesome young woman who had given no peace to his bell since the first day of her arrival at Vaucouleurs. After the interview, Baudricourt came to the conclusion that Joan was crazed ; but she declared she would walk herself literally off her legs, until they were worn down to the stump, if the Sire refused to stump up for the expenses of the journey. Some of the people beginning to believe the maid's story, she was enabled to get credit in Vaucouleurs for a few trappings as well as for a horse, and at the same time six donkeys, in the shape of two squires and four servants, consented to follow her. On the 15th of February, 1429, the Maid began her journey, in the course of which her companions frequently came to the conclusion that she was a humbug, and on arriving at a precipice they often threatened to throw her over. At length, all difficulties being surmounted, she arrived at Chinon, near Orleans, where Charles was residing. " I won't see her," cried the king, upon hearing she had come ; ;< I am not going to be bored to death by a female fanatic. A man who believes himself to be inspired is bad enough, but there is not a greater plague on earth than a woman-prophet." At length, after being pestered for three days, he consented to grant an interview to Joan, who stood unabashed by the sneers of the courtiers. Every word that flowed from her lips had the effect of curling fluid on the lips of those who listened. Some would have coughed her down, others began to crow over her, and the scene was a good deal like the House of Commons during the speech of an unpopular member, when Charles, who was ;\ good deal struck by the assurance of the Maid, took her aside to have a little quiet talk with her. " Well, my good woman," he observed, " what is all this ? Let me know your views as briefly as possible." Joan explained that her views consisted of magnificent visions, but Charles declared them to be mere jack-o'-lanterns of the brain, which were not worth attending to. Never- theless, the earnestness of her manner had its effect, and the king sent her to Poictiers, where there was a learned university, and, though Joan SJ52 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK IV. was rather averse to the fellows, she allowed them to question her. Some of them began to assail her -with their ponderous learning, but she cut them short by acknowledging that she did not know a great A or a little a from a bouncing B. She declared herself, however, ready to fight, and the learned men, who were not anxious for a contest with the Maid in her own style, pronounced a favourable opinion on her pre- tensions. To raise the siege of Orleans, and take the Dauphin to be crowned at Rheims, were the feats she undertook to perform. As one tiial would prove the fact, Charles consented to grant it. The soldiers, however, refused to follow her until they had seen how she would manage a horse, and they consequently all stood round her while she went through a few scenes in the circle. One of them, who acted as a kind of clown to the ring, put a lance into her hand, which she wielded with great dexterity, while she was still in the performance of her rapid act of horsemanship. Joan having passed her examination with success, was invested with the rank of a general officer. In spite of her masculine undertaking, there was still enough of the woman in her disposition to induce her to be very particular in ordering her own armour and accoutrements She had herself measured for an entirely new suit of polished metal, her banner was white, picked out with gold, and her horse was as white as milk when properly chalked for metropolitan consumption. The Maid looked exceedingly well when made up, and people flocked round her with intense curiosity ; for if even the man in brass at the Lord Mayor's Show will attract a mob, a woman regularly blocked in by block tin was a novelty that every one would be sure to run after. Full of enthu- siasm, she started off to the relief of Orleans, and the garrison, encouraged by her approach, sallied out upon the besiegers with unusual vigour, exclaiming " The Maid is come! " and the result realised the old saying that " where there 's a will, there s a way," or in the Latin proverb, possunt (they can) qui (who) videntur (seem) posse (to be able). With the aid of the posse comitatus the object was achieved, and it may, perhaps, have happened that the superstitious fears of the English had much to do with the result of the battle. They declared that she was a witch, and some of them pretended to have seen her looking at them with great saucer eyes, which was, in those days, a test of sorcery The sentinels, at night, got so nervous, that they used to be startled by their own shadows in the moon, and would rim away, declaring that they were pursued by black figures stretched on the ground, from which there was no escaping. Others declared the stars were all out of order, and that they heard the band of Orion playing, out of tune, at midnight- Some declared they had seen a horse galloping along the Milky Way, and they inferred that Joan of Arc sent her steed along it at full speed to keep up his milky whiteness. The English army had been completely panic-struck by the successes of Joan, which were owing nearly equally to the zeal she inspired in her friends and to the superstition of her enemies. She caused a letter to CHAP. III.] SIEGE OF ORLEANS JOAN OF ARC. 253 be written to the latter, in her name, strongly advising them to " give it up," and now she determined to give them a bit of a speech from the ramparts of Orleans. Taking her place on the top of a ladder, resting against a high wall, she advised them to " he off; " that it was " no use ; " they were " only wasting their time there," and recommended that if they had business elsewhere they had better go and attend to it. Sir William Gladesdale, an English leader, rose to reply, amid cries of " Down, down! " "Off, off! " " Hear him! " "Oh, oh! " and the usual ejaculations which a difference of opinion in a crowd has always elicited. As soon as Sir William could obtain a hearing, he was understood to advise the Maid to "go home and take care of her cows; " upon which Joan cleverly replied, that if " a calf were an object of care as well as a cow, he, Sir William Gladesdale, ought to be placed at once in safe keeping." The knight, finding the laugh against him, sat down without another word, and Joan became more popular than ever after this little incident. It was part of the plan of the Maid to work upon the imagination of the foe, and an amanuensis was employed to write another threatening letter, in her name, to the English soldiers. The communication was thrown into the midst of them, and Joan, being anxious to know what effect it produced, stood on the ramparts to overhear what they said to it. "Listeners never hear any good of themselves," and the Maid had the mortification of listening to some fearful abuse of herself; which, perhaps, served her right, for her behaviour was, to say the least of it, exceedingly un-ladylike. Vanity became one of her most powerful incentives, and she took upon herself to disagree with the Governor of Orleans, the great captains, and all the military authorities, on points of military tactics. Joan was, in fact, a very impracticable person, but it was necessary to let her have her way to a considerable extent, on account of her immense popularity with the soldiers. She insisted on making an attack which was considered very premature, and while leading it in person she got knocked over into a ditch by a dart, which set her off crying veiy bitterly. A valiant knight picked her up, and placed her in the rear, consoling her by saying, " There, there — you 're not a great deal hurt. Come, come, dry your eyes. Don't cry, there 's a good girl," and other words of encouragement. Joan feeling that it would not do for a heroine to be found roaring and whimpering at the first scratch she received, soon recovered her self-possession, and was soon at the ditch again, but on this occasion it was less for the purpose of fighting herself than of urging on others to battle. The English, though they did not know whether Joan was a witch or a what, were nevertheless ready to fight her on a fair field, if she would give them the opportunity. Her voices had not, however, given her the word of command, and she found it advisable to put a poultice on her neck, which rendered it necessary that she should keep for some days as quiet as possible. Her voices were often exceedingly considerate in refraining from advising her to go to battle when she might have got the worst of it. In tins instance they were accommodate g enough fc> £54 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. give her the opportunity of nursing her neck, for at least a limited period. The English waited a little time for the Maid, expecting that she would prove herself a " maid of all work," by venturing to go single- handed into a very difficult place ; but, as she did not make the attempt, they retired with flying colours. These colours, had they been war- ranted not to run, might never have left Orleans, but on the 8th of May, 1429, the siege was raised, and the reputation of the English army considerably lowered. On the strength of this event, Joan went to meet King Charles, who received her very affably, and the courtiers proposed inviting her to a public dinner. This honour she politely declined, for — like the cele- brated Drummond — she was " averse to humbug of any description," but that which she had made for her own use, and after-dinner speeches were matters she held in utter abhorrence. She objected strongly to that festive foolery which induces people, who never met before, to express hopes that they may often meet again, and which is the source of at least twenty proudest moments of about as many existences. Joan, therefore, urged her previous engagements as an excuse for going out nowhere, for she felt assured that if she encouraged a spirit of jolly-dogism among the troops, they would soon become neglectful of all their duties. Charles, urged by the example of Joan, determined to do a little sol- diering himself, and had his armour taken out of his box, the rust rubbed off, the shoulder-straps lengthened, the leggings let down, the breastplate let out, and other alterations made, to adapt it to the change in his figure since he had last worn his martial trappings. Though he took the field, it was in the capacity of an amateur, for his modesty — or some other feeling — kept him constantly in the background, and after the battle of Patay, which was fought and won by the French, the cries of " Where is Charles ? What 's become of the king?" were loud and general. The Maid found him reposing on his laurels, or rather under them, for he had concealed himself in a thick hedge of evergreens, from which he declined to emerge, until his question of " Is it all right?" had received from Joan's lips a satisfactory answer. The object of her visit was to persuade him to accompany her to Eheims, to celebrate his coro- nation in the cathedral of that city. " It 's not a bad idea," said Charles, " but premature, I 'm afraid, and so at present we will not think of it." Joan would, however, take no refusal. On the 15th July, 1429, the French king made his solemn entrance into that city. He was crowned two days after, and though not one of the peers of France were present at the ceremony, it went off with quite as much spirit as any one might venture to anticipate. Philip, the Duke of Burgundy, declined an invitation from the Maid, tvho pointed out to him the folly of fighting against his own king, when, if he wanted war, the Turks were always ready to fight or be fought, to have their heads cut off, or oblige any one else by making the thing reciprocal. The Duke of Burgundy still kept aloof, but Joan continued CHAP. III.] MEETING OF THE FEENCH AND ENGLISH AT SENLIS. 255 to be successful without his assistance, and took several towns, chiefly from the readiness with which they were given up to her. Many of the people looked upon her as something preternatural, and they even fancied her white banner was always surrounded by butterflies, though truth compels us to state that these fancied butterflies were probably harvest-bugs, which, at about the period of the year when the phenome- non was supposed to have been seen, were most likely to be fluttering blindly and blunderingly about the Maid's standard. Many of the French officers, jealous of her success, attempted to malign her character. No tiger could have stood up for his respectability more furiously than Joan defended her reputation ; and, indeed, she made so much fuss, to vindicate her fair fame, that we might have suspected her of impropriety, had not all historians agreed in coming to an opposite conclusion. It was evident that Joan, having made one or two lucky hits, was anxious to back out before she damaged her reputation by failure. When asked what she would do if allowed to retire, she declared she would return and tend her sheep; nor did the cruel sarcasm of " Oh, yes, with a hook !'' — which some courtier would throw in — divert her at all from her humble purpose. Having the rank of a General, she might perhaps have claimed the right to sell out or retire on half-pay, but she was anxious to return to her lowing herds, which caused Charles to say that for her to go and herd with anything so low, would be indeed ridiculous. Her voices, however, began to confuse her, and perhaps to talk more than one at a time, as well as to say different things ; for on one day she would speak of resuming her humble occupations, and on another day would make preparations for smashing the English. Fortune seemed to have deserted the English in France, and Bedford, the Regent — like others of his countrymen, when they found their num- bers inferior to those of the foe — had the coolness to propose settling the dispute by single combat. This ingenious device is like that of the gamester who has but a single pound, which he proposes to stake against the pound of him who has a hundred more, with the understanding that if the party who makes the proposition shall win, he shall walk off with all that belongs to his antagonist. Charles was rude enough to make no reply to this offer, but about the middle of August, 1429, the English and French armies found themselves very unexpectedly in sight of each other, near Senlis. How they came to such close quarters no one seemed to know ; but it is agreed on all hands, that both sides would have been very glad to get back again. Neither would venture to begin, and Charles requested to know what Joan of Arc's voices had to say upon such an important occasion. The Maid had unfortunately lost whatever voice she might have had, and could find nothing at all to say for herself. The king was eager to know whether his army might commence the attack, but Joan's voices said not a word, and as their silence was not of the sort which Charles considered capable of giving consent, he did riot permit any assault to be begun by his soldiers. After looking at each other during three entire days, each army marched off the field by its 250 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IT, own road, and natliing had taken place beyond the interchange of an occasional " Now then, stupid — what are you staring at ?" between the advanced guards of either army. Though our business, as an historian, has taken us a good deal abroad, we must now return home, lest, in our absence, the thread of our narra- tive should have got into. such a state of entanglement, as to cause our- selves and our readers difficulty in the necessary process of unravelling it. The sixth of November, 1429, was set apart for the coronation of the baby king, at Westminster ; and, in a spirit worthy of the rising generation of the present day, his infant majesty insisted on the abolition of the protectorship. The notion that he could take care of himself had got possession of the royal mind ; but the sequel of his reign afforded bitter proof of the extent of the fallacy. In 1430, he embarked for France, but the privy purse was again in such a disgraceful state, that the king had not the means of paying for his journey. The usual humiliating step was taken of sending the crown to the pawnbroker. We may here take occasion to remark, that though we frequently hear of the crown being put in pledge, we have no record of its being ever taken regularly and honestly out again. There can be little doubt that the people were unscrupulously taxed to rescue the regal diadem, which was no sooner redeemed than royal extravagance, or necessity, placed it again in its humiliating position. Had the same crown been transmitted regularly from hand to hand — or, rather, from head to head — it would have been perforated through and through by the multiplicity of tickets that from time to time have been pinned on to it. On this occasion, the jewels went to the pawnbroker's, as well as the crown, so that the regalia were huddled together as if they had been no better than a set of fire-irons. It is surprising, under all the circum- stances, that the sceptre never figured in the catalogue of a sale of unredeemed pledges, and we cannot wonder that some of our sovereigns have chosen to rule with a rod of iron, as a cheap and durable, but a most disagreeable substitute. In addition to the means already alluded to, for filling his purse, the young king, or his advisers, hit upon another mode of making money. Every one who was worth forty pounds a-year, was forced to take up the honour of knighthood, whether he liked it or not, and, of course, made to pay the most exorbitant fees for the unde- sired privilege. In this manner, many persons were dubbed knights, for the express purpose of making them dub up ; and there is every reason to believe that the word " dub " has taken its meaning in relation to pecuniary affairs, from the arbitrary practice we have mentioned. Those illustrious families who trace their genealogy up to some knight who flourished in the time of Henry VI., will not, perhaps, after this disclosure, be so very proud of their origin. We have had in our own day one or two who have been dignified with knighthood by mistake, instead of somebody else, but those who had greatness thrust upon them only for the sake of the fees, were scarcely less contemptible. CHAP IV. j BEDFORD IN DIFFICULTIES. 257 CHAPTER THE FOURTH HENRY THE SIXTH, SURNAMED OF WINDSOR (CONTINUED). edford had for some time been struggling in France under the extreme disad- vantage of shortness of cash, for the council being engaged in continual quar- relling at home, had become very irre- gular in sending remittances. He had gone week after week without his own salary, but he never grumbled at that until he found his army, from getting short of cash, beginning to fail in allegi- ance. Often while reviewing the troops, if he complained of awkwardness in the evolutions, he would hear murmurs of "Why don't you pay us ? " and on one occasion an insolent fellow who had been bungling over the easy manoeuvre of standing at ease, cried out, " It 's all very well to say ' Stand at ease,' but how is a man to stand at ease, when he never receives his salary?" Upon another occasion Bedford had given the word to charge, when a sup- pressed titter ran through the ranks, and on his demanding an expla- nation, he was told respectfully by one of his aide-de-camps that the troops thought it an irresistible joke to call upon them to " charge/' when, if they charged ever so much, there was no prospect of their demand being satisfied. Bedford used to rush regularly every morning to the outpost, in the hope of finding a letter containing the means of liquidating some of the arrears of pay into which he had fallen with his soldiers. He was, however, always doomed to disappointment ; for there was either no communication for him at all, or an intimation that " next week " — which never comes — would bring him the cash he was so eagerly waiting for. His repeated visits to the outpost usually ended in a shake of the head from the officer on duty, whose " No, Sir; there's nothing for you," had in it a mixture of compassion and contempt, which are not always incompatible. Bedford, the regent,having leftParis, Charles thought that the cat being away the mice might be at play, and that the city would be unprepared if an attack should be made upon it. Beauvais and St Denis opened their gates, but the Parisians were not so complaisant, and Charles, unwilling to resort to force, tried the effect of flummery. He issued *5S COmC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. Tbook TV. proclamations full of the most brilliant promises to his " good and loyal city," but the inhabitants replied by hanging out an allegorical banner, representing an individual in the act of offering some chaff to an old bird, who was refusing to be caught by it. Stung by this sarcasm, Charles determined to make an attack, and on the 12th of September he commenced an assault on the Faubourg St. Honore. Joan threw herself against the wall, but could make no impression upon it ; and she could only lament that among the French artillery there was no mortar to be brought to bear upon the bricks of the city. She then resorted to other steps — or rather to a ladder — and had Joan- at tt>e walls of Paris. CHAP. I V.J JOAN OF ARC DEB'EATED. 259 reached every successive round amid successive rounds of applause from her followers, when she was stopped by a wound, which fairly knocked her over. A friendly ditch received the disabled Joan, who went into it with a splash, which caused all her companions to basely run away, lest they should participate in the consequences of her downfall. Drenched and disheartened, sobbing, and in a perfect sop, the Maid crawled out of the ditch, and laid down for a little while ; but suddenly rising, and giving herself a shake, she made another rush at the battle- ments. A few better spirits, ashamed of seeing the weakest thus a second time going to the wall, joined her in her advance, but meeting with resistance, they rolled back like a wave of the sea, almost swamping the Maid, and carrying her violently away with them. Joan's influence had now begun to decline ; for though a heroine is popular as long as she succeeds, a woman who fails in her performance of the part is always ridiculous. She had also lost the favour of the soldiers by attacking them behind their backs, for she had flogged them with the flat of her sword till she broke the blade over their shoulders. They openly called her an impostor, a humbug, ana a ao ; so that, hurt in her feelings as well as in her neck, wounded alike in mind and body, she resolved to quit the army. She even went to the Abbey church, and fixing up a clothes-line, hung her white armour before the shrine of St. Denis. Charles supposed the articles had been put there to dry after the soaking the Maid had experienced in the ditch; but when he heard that Joan, as well as her coat of mail, was on the high ropes, he determined to take her down a peg as gently as possible. She was persuaded to prolong her stay, or rather to renew her engage- ment ; and though, even after her military debut at the siege of Orleans, she had wished it to be her " positively last appearance on any ram- parts," Charles had the satisfaction of announcing that she had in the handsomest manner consented to remain in his company. A constant renewal of an engagement will dim the attraction of the brightest star, and Joan was evidently on the wane as a popular favourite. In the beginning of 1430, there was a slight cessation of hostilities, and Charles remained at Bourges, where he was suffering under a severe exhaustion of his means, and a 'general sinking in all his pockets. At this juncture, Joan met with a rival, in the shape of an opposition prophetess, for it is always the fate of merit and success to become the subject of base and paltry imitation. Catherine of La Rochelle, was the name of the female counterfeit who adapted her inspiration to the exigencies of the time, and knowing the king to be short of cash, she pretended to have fits of financial foresight. She was in fact a visionary Chancellor of the Exchequer, running about with an imaginary budget, and transforming Charles's real deficiency into an ideal surplus. She affected to hear voices and to see visions ; but the former were rude shouts of I.O.U., and the latter represented to her certain hidden treasure, which was hidden so well that it has never been found from tliat time to the present. She had the art of extracting money for the s 2 280 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. kings use from those who had any money to give, and a single speech from her mouth was sufficient to fill with coin any soup-plate or saucer that might be handed round to the audience. She boasted that she could talk every penny out of the purses of her hearers, and whenever she appeared, there was a general cry of " Take care of your pockets ! " Joan called her an impostor and was called " another " in return, but it was said by a quaint writer of the period that whatever the Maid of Orleans might have done with the sword, the tongue of Catherine would give an antagonist a more complete licking than the most formidable weapon. Charles was attracted by the financial fanatic ; but still wishing to propitiate Joan, he ennobled her family, and declared that her native village of Domremy should for ever be exempt from taxes. It thus became one of the greatest rights of this place to forget the whole of its duties. At the opening of the spring the French king advanced again towards Paris with two prophetesses in his suite ; but as two of a trade never agree — particularly if they happen to be of the gentler sex — the two young ladies were constantly quarrelling. It is probable that the presence of Catherine was the cause of putting Joan upon her metal, for she marched to the relief of Compiegne with all her accustomed spirit. She had made up her mind to a repetition of the hit she had made at Orleans, but Victory did not answer her call, or show any disposition to wait upon her. Joan fought with valour, but her soldiers had no sooner met the foe, than they agreed that the chances were against them, and that the only way to bring themselves round was to turn immediately back, a manoeuvre which was performed by one simultaneous movement. Joan tried to rally them, but they were too far gone ; and while she kept her face to the enemy, her old disaster befell her, for she backed into one of those ditches in which all her military exploits seemed doomed to terminate There being no humane member of society, or member of the Humane Society, to give her the benefit of a drag from the water in which she was immersed, she was soon surrounded by her enemies. Her own companions had fled into the city and shut the gates upon her, against which she had not the strength to knock ; when, mournfully murmuring out — "Alas ! I am not worth a rap," she surrendered to her opponents. The sensation created by the capture of Joan of Arc was actually prodi- gious. The captains ran out of their positions, and the men left their ranks to have a peep at her. Duke Philip paid her a visit at her lodgings, in the presence of old Monstrelet, who was either so deaf, or so stupid, or so thunder-struck, that he could not relate what passed at the interview. The ungrateful French made no effort to release the Maid, and, indeed, there seemed to be a feeling of satisfaction at having got rid of her. Her captors showed a strong disposition to make much of her, by turning the celebrated prophetess to a profit ; and the person to whom she had surrendered — the Bastard of Vendome — sold her out and out to John of Luxembourgh. Friar Martin pretended to have a CHAP. IV ] JOAN A PBISONER. 20 1 lien upon her ; but John, refusing to have the lot put up again, and resold — in accordance with the usual practice in cases of dispute — cleared her off to a strong castle of his own in Picardy. Another pretended mortgagee of the Maid then started up in the person of the Bishop of Beauvais, who claimed her on behalf of the University of Paris. John of Luxembourgh disposed of her to his holiness for ten thousand francs, rather than have any further trouble. Poor Joan was committed to prison on the charge of witchcraft, and as a kind of preliminary to the proceedings in her own case, a woman who believed in the Maid was burned, pour encourager les autres who might put faith in her inspiration. The fate of Joan was for some time very uncertain ; but the learned doctors of the University of Paris, and other high authorities, recommended her being burned at once, which would save the trouble and expense of a previous trial. The Bishop of Beauvais, who had become the proprietor, by purchase, of the illus- trious captive, recommended the adoption of regular legal proceedings. Priests and lawyers and lettered men were summoned from far and near; many of the legal gentlemen being specially retained, and all being prac- tised in the art of cross-examination, to which Joan was subjected by those who conducted the case for the prosecution. Her trial was, throughout, a disgraceful exhibition of forensic chicanery, for her opponents attempted to puzzle her with hard words, which, in spite of her being charged with magic spells, she had not the power of spelling. The pleadings were shamefully complicated ; but she defended herself with spirit, and occa- sionally confounded the doctors, who were confounded knaves, for they tried to take every advantage of her unfortunate position. Sixteen days were consumed in taking the evidence, and Joan sometimes made a point in her own favour, when the Bishop of Beauvais, sinking the dignity of the judge in the temporary office of usher, began to call lustily for silence ; and, according to the modern practice of the officer of the court, making more noise than every one else by the loudness of his vociferations. The Bishop shouted and resorted to other ungentlemanly expedients, during the entire day, to damage the cause of Joan, who, nevertheless, proceeded as if in the midst of that silence which the usher in Westmin- ster Hall is continually disturbing by loudly calling for It was contended, on the part of the prosecution, that there was magic in her banner ; but Joan, who had served the other side with notice to produce the banner, declared there was nothing particular in any part of it. The pole belonging to it was as plain as any other pike-staff, and the banner itself was formed of a cheap material, which Joan declared was all stuff; so that the banner was, of necessity, waived by her enemies. Her judges, nevertheless, declared there was sufficient evidence to support a charge of heresy, and began to deliberate on the manner of her punishment. While some recommended fire, others threw cold water upon it, and French, as well as English writers, have laboured to prove, that their countrymen, at least, were averse to a proceeding from which the term 2G2 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK IV. " burning shame " no doubt took the signification it bears at present. Having already found her guilty, her persecutors tried their utmost to urge her to acknowledge her guilt, for in the absence of proof, it was thought advisable to get at least a confession. At length, on the 24th of May, 1431, the Maid was brought up to hear her sentence, and the Bishop of Beauvais, taking out a pile of papers — endorsed, re Joan of Arc, declared himself ready to deliver his judgment. An opportunity was, however, allowed her to stay execu- tion, on giving a cognovit, or acknowledgment of every charge brought against her ; and such a document being drawn up, she reluctantly per- mitted Joan of Arc, X, her mark — for she could not write — to be affixed to it. Her punishment was commuted to perpetual imprisonment, with " the bread of sorrrow and the water of affliction," which consisted of a stale loaf and a pull at the pump once a day, as her only nourishment. She found very few crumbs of comfort in her daily crust, and when the water was brought to her, she declared it to be very hard, which was certainly better than soft for drinking. It was a portion of her punishment to resume her female attire, which caused her considerable annoyance, and a soldier's dress having been left in her prison, she was one morning discovered wearing it. Her jailer, on entering, charged Joan tryiBg it on. CHAP. IY.J EXECUTION OF JOAN OF ARC. 263 her with " trying it on," but added that it was anything but fitting, and told her that she would certainly be overhauled when he reported that he had seen her in a pair of military overalls. The circumstance was instantly turned against her, and the putting on of male attire, which she had worn before, was declared to be a revival of the old suit, to which she had been liable. Her re-appearance in the soldier's dress was looked upon as a proof of uniform opposition to the authorities ; and her offence was described as "relapsed heresy," or double guilt, like the " one cold caught on the top of t'other " by the boy who had been suffering under several layers of those disagreeable visitors. Judgment was now finally entered up against the ill-used Maid, who, on the 30th of May, 1431, was brought in a cart to the market-place and burned at Rouen. We would gladly draw a veil over the fate of poor Joan ; but we are unwilling to spare those who were accessary to it, from the odium which increases whenever the facts are repeated. Cardinal Beaufort and some of the bishops who had been instrumental to the murder of the Maid, began to whimper when the ceremony commenced, and to find it more than their susceptible natures could bear to witness. They had ordered the atrocity that was about to take place ; but conscience had made them such arrant cowards, that they had not the courage to witness the carrying out of their own savage suggestions. If persons so hard-hearted as themselves could feel so much affected by the sacrifice they had ordered, we may imagine what opinion ought to bo entertained of them for commanding an act of atrocity which they dared not remain to contemplate The conduct of Charles in not interfering on Joan's behalf, is even more cruel and despicable than that of her avowed enemies. The French king finding the Maid of no further use, came practically to a free translation of Non eget arcn, (there is no want of a Joan of Arc,) and left her to the fate that awaited her. It would have been nothing but policy to have insured her life, which he might easily have done, even when she was threatened with burning, and her case became doubly hazardous. The English were very anxious to get up a sensation in France by way of diverting the public mind from the fate of the Maid of Orleans. A coronation, which is always one of the best cards to play, being good for a king or queen at the least, was thought of and resolved upon. The affair was intended to eclipse the ceremony of which Charles had been the hero and Joan of Arc the heroine. Young Henry, who had been crowned already at Westminster, and had therefore rehearsed the part he would be called upon to play, was brought over to Paris with all the scenery, machinery, dresses and decorations, properties and appointments, that had been used before, so that the coronation being in the repertoire of costly spectacles, the expense of its revival was moderate. The performance took place in November, 1431 ; but though the getting up was very complete, the applause was scanty, and 264 COMIC HISTOEI OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV, the attendance by no means numerous. Cardinal Beaufort occupied a stall, and there was a fair sprinkling of people in the galleries ; hut the principal character being a spiritless and most unpromising boy of nine, the spectacle excited very little interest. Things remaining in France in a very unsatisfactory state, Charles- and Philip of Burgundy came to the resolution, that it was folly to go on cutting one another's throats, and they consequently effected a com- promise. Philip got the best of the bargain, which was solemnised by a great deal of swearing and unswearing ; for as the parties had pre- viously exchanged oaths of hostility towards each other, it was necessary to take the spunge and wipe out former affidavits, as well as to supply the blank with new oaths of an opposite character. There was a mutual interchange of perjury ; and posterity, on looking at the respective culpabilities of the two parties, can only come to the conclusion, that they were beaucoup i literary smasher in coining a word — the dramaticest battles in English history. " Ho: trumpets, sound a note or two — Ho : prompter, clear the stage ! A chord, there, in the orchestra : The battle we must wage. Your gallant supers marshal out — - Yes, I must see them all ; The rather lean, the very stout, The under-sized, the tall : The Yorkites in the centre, Lancastrians in the rear, Not yet the staff must enter — The stage, I charge ye, clear ! Those warriors in the green-room Must have an extra drill ; Where 's Richard's gilt-tipp'd baton ? They charged it in the bill. Those ensigns with the banners Must stand the other way, Or else how is it possible The white rose to display ? " Thus spoke the old stage manager, The day before the night Richard and Richmond on the field Of Bosworth had to fight. And thus the light-heel'd call-boy Upon that day began To read of properties a list — 'Twas thus the items ran : — "Four dozen shields of cardboard, With paper newly gilt, Six dozen goodly swords, and one With practicable hilt ; The practicable hilt, of course. Must be adroitly plann'd, That when 'tis struck with mod'rate force, 'Twill break in Richard's hand. Eight banners — four with roses white, And four with roses red — Six halberds, and a canopy To hang o'er Richard's head ; OHAP VII.] THE BATTLE OF BOSWOETH FIELD. 305 A sofa for the tyrants tent, An ironing-board at back, Whereon the ghosts may safely stand, Who come his dreams to rack ; A lamp, suspended in the air By an invis'ble wire, And — for the ghosts to vanish in — Two ounces of blue fire." # * * * Thus spoke the gallant call-boy, f The boy of many fights ; Who 'd seen a battle often fought - ** Fifty successive nights. * * * * The moment now approaches, The interval is short, Before the fearful battle Of Bosworth must be fought ; "Now Richmond's gallant soldiers Are waiting at the wing, Expecting soon that destiny Its prompter's bell will ring ; Now at the entrance opposite The troops of Richard stand, Two dozen stalwart veterans — A small, but gallant band. Hark ! at the sound of trumpets, They raise a hearty cheer, Their voices have obtained their force From recent draughts of beer. Their leader, the false Richard, Is lying in his tent, But ghosts to fret and worry him Are to his bedside sent. Convulsively he kicks and starts, He cannot have repose, A guilty conscience breaks his rest. By tugging at his toes. A gentleman in mourning, With visage very black, W T hen the tent curtain draws aside, Is standing at the back • And then a woman — stately, But pale as are the dead — Stood, in the darkness of the night, To scold him in his bed. 306 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. There came they, and there preached they, In most lugubrious way, Delivering curtain lectures Until the east was grey ; Or rather, till the prompter, Who has the proper cue, Had quite consumed his quantity Of fire, so bright and blue. The conscience-stricken Richard Now kicks with greater force, Rears up, and plunges from his couch, Insisting on a horse ; When, hearing from the village cock A blithe and early scream, He straightway recollects himself, And finds it all a dream. * # * * Now, on each side, the leaders Long for the battle's heat, But, by some luckless accident, The armies never meet ; We hear them both alternately Talking extremely large, But never find them, hand to hand, Mixed in the deadly charge. " March on, my friends ! " cries Richmond, " True tigers let us be ; Advance your standards, draw your swords — On, friends, and follow me ! " 'Tis true, they follow him indeed, But then, the way they go Is just the way they 're not at all Likely to meet the foe. So Richard, with his " soul in arms," Is " eager for the fray," But, with a hop, a skip, and jump, Runs off — the other way. He 's to the stable gone, perchance, Forgetting, in his flurry, He has kept waiting all this time His clever cob, White Surrey. The brute is " saddled for the field," But never gains the spot, For on his way Death knocks him down In one — the common- -lot. CHAP- VU.] THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD. 307 ,!HH', Richard III. and his celebrated charger, White Surrey. Richard, a momentary pang At the bereavement feels ; But, being thrown upon his hands, Starts briskly to his heels. And now the angry tyrant Perambulates the field, Calling on each ideal foe To fight him or to yield. " What, ho ! " he cries, "Young Richmond! But, mid the noise of drums, Young Richmond doesn't hear him— At least he never comes. Now louder, and still louder, Rise from the darken'd field The braying of the trumpets, The clang of sword and shield. But shame upon both armies ! For, if the truth he known, Tis not each others' shields they smite — The clang is all their own ; x2 30$ COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK IV For six of Richmond's people Are standing in a row, (Behind the scenes), and with their swords They give their shields a blow. Wild shouts of " Follow, follow! " Are raised in murmuring strain, To represent the slayer's rage, The anguish of the slain. But now. in stern reality, The battle seems to rage ; For Catesby comes to tell the world How fiercely they engage. He gives a grand description, And says the feud runs high : We won't suppose that such a man Would stoop to tell a lie. He says the valiant king " enacts More wonders than a man ; " In fact, is doing what he can't, Instead of what he can. That all on foot the tyrant fights, Seeks Richmond, and will follow him Into the very " throat of Death " — No wonder Death should swallow him I Now meeting on a sudden, Each going the opposite way, Richard and Richmond both advance, Their valour to display. Says Richard, " Now for one of us, Or both, the time is come." Says Richmond, " Till I've settled this. By Jove, I won't go home." One, two, strikes Richard with his foil, When Richmond, getting fierce, Repeats three, four, and on they go, With parry, quatre, and tierce. Till suddenly the tyrant Is brought unto a stand ; His weapon snaps itself in twain, The hilt is in his hand. The gen'rous Richmond turns aside, Till some one at the wing Another weapon to the foe Good-naturedly doth fling. CHAP. VII.J THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD. 309 Richard advances with a rush ; Richmond in turn retires ; Their weapons, every time they meet, Flash with electric fires. Posterity, that occupies Box, gallery, and pit, Applauds the pair alternately, As each one makes a hit. Now " Bravo Richmond ! " is the cry, Till Richard plants a blow With good effect, when to his side- Round the spectators go. As fickle still as when at first, The nation, undecided, Was 'twixt the Roses White and Red Alternately divided, So does the modem audience Incline, with favour strongest. To him who in the contest seems Likely to last the longest. Then harsher sounds the trumpet, And deeper rolls the drum, Till both have had enough of it, When Richard must succumb. Flatly he falls upon the ground, Declaring, when he 's down, He envies Richmond nothing else, Except the vast renown Which he has certainly acquired By having made to yield Richard, who had been hitherto The master of the field. And then the soldiers, who have stood Some distance from the fray, Rush in to take their portion of The glory of the day. And men with banners in their hands, At eighteen pence a night, Some with red roses on the flags, And some with roses white, By shaking them together, The colours gently blend, And the Battle of the Roses Is for ever at an end. The Battle of Bosworth Field terminated the War of the Roses, or rather brought the roses into full blow, and cut off some of the flower of 310 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGIAND. [BOOK IV. the English nobility. Kichmond was proclaimed king on the field, as Henrv VII. ; and as the soldiers formed themselves into a tableau the V Coronation of Henry VII. on the Field of Battle. curtain descended on the tragedy of the War between the Houses of York and Lancaster. Kichard had reigned a couple of years and a couple of mouths when he received his guietm on the field of Bosworth. If ever there was a idna of England whose name was had enough to hang him, this unfor- tunate dog has a reputation which would suspend him on every lamp- post in Christendom. The odium attaching to his policy has been visited on his person, and it has been asserted that the latter was not CHAP. VII.] CHAKACTEB OF RICHARD III. ol] straight because the former was crooked. His right shoulder is said by Rouse, who hated him, to have been higher than his left; but this apparent deformity may have arisen from the party having taken a one sided view of him. His stature was small ; but in the case of one who never stood very high in the opinion of the public, it was physically impos sible for the fact to be otherwise. Walpole, in his very ingenious "Historic Doubts," has tried to get rid of Richard's high hump, but the operation has not been successful, in the opiniou of any impartial umpire. Imagination, that tyrant which has such a strange method of treating its subjects, has had perhaps more to do than Nature in placing an enormous burden on Richard's shoulders. His features were decidedly good-looking; but on the converse of the principle that "handsome is as handsome does," the tyrant Gloucester has been regarded as one of those who " ugly was that handsome didn't." It is a remarkable fact that Richard III. during his short reign received no subsidy from Parliament, though we must not suppose that he ruled the kingdom gratuitously; for, on the contrary, his income was ample and munificent. He got it in the shape of tonnage and poundage upon all sorts of goods, and when money was not to be had he took property to the full value of the claim he had upon it. The result was that his treasury became a good deal like an old curiosity shop, a coal shed, or a dealer's in marine stores, for anything that came in Richard's way was perfectly acceptable. The principle of poundage was applied to everything, even in quantities less than a pound, and he would, even on a few ounces of sugar, sack his share of the saccharine. If he required it for his own use he never scrupled to intercept the housewife on her way from the butcher's, and cut off the chump from the end of the chop ; nor did he hesitate, when he felt disposed, to lop the very lollipop in the hands of the schoolboy. This principle of allowing poundage to the king was in the highest degree inconve- nient. It rendered the meat-safe a misnomer, inasmuch as it was never safe from royal rapacity. It has been said of Richard, that he would have been well qualified to reign, had he been legally entitled to the throne ; or, in other words, that he would have been a good ruler if he had not been a bad sovereign. To us this seems to savour of the old anomaly — a distinction without a difference. He certainly carried humbug to the highest possible point, for he exhibited it upon the throne, which serves as a platform to make either vice or virtue — as the case may be — conspicuous. The trick by which he obtained possession of his nephew, the young King Edward, whose liberty was likely to prove a stumbling-block in Richard's own path to the throne, is remarkable for its cunning, and for the intimate knowledge it displayed of the juvenile character Proceeding to the residence of the baby monarch's mamma, he began asking after " little Ned " with apparently the most affectionate interest. He had previously provided himself with a lot of sweetstuff as he came along, for it was bis deep design ' to intoxicate with brandy-balls the 312 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. BOOK IV. head of the infant sovereign. " Where is the little fellow?" inquired Richard, who would take no excuse for his nephew not being produced, but declared that being in no hurry, he could wait the convenience of the nursery authorities. Finding further opposition useless, Elizabeth reluctantly ordered the boy to be brought down, when Richard asked him " Whether he would like to go with uncle Dick ?" and got favourable answers by surreptitiously cramming the child's mouth with lollipops. Whenever the little fellow was about to say " He would rather stay with his mamma," the Protector called his attention (aside) Would Yorke like to (50 with his uncle Dick ! to a squib or brandy-ball, and York consented at last to go with his uncle. " Oh ! I thought you would," cried the wily duke, as he clutched his little nephew up and jogged with him to the Tower. Such was the artful scheme by which the tyrant originally got possession of the subsequent victim of avuncular cruelty. It has been urged in extenuation of his cruel murder of the little princes, that their deaths were a necessary sequel to those of Hastings and others ; but it would have been a poor consolation to the victims hagl they known that they were only killed by way of supplement. We cannot think that any por- tion of the catalogue of Richard's crimes should be printed in colours less CHAP. VII.] CHARACTER OF EICHABD III. 313 black because it formed a continuation or an appendix to his atrocities ; nor can we excuse Part II. of a horribly bad work because Part I. has rendered it unavoidable. It is urged by those writers who have defended him, that the crimes he committed were only those necessary to secure the crown ; but this is no better plea than that of the highwayman who knocks a traveller on the head because the blow is necessary to the convenient picking of the victim's pockets. Richards crimes might have been palliated in some trifling degree, had they been essential to the recovery of his own rights, but the case is different when his sanguinary career was only pursued that he might get hold of that which did not belong to aim. It is true he was ambitious ; but if a thief is ambitious of possessing :ur set of six silver tea-spoons, we are not to excuse him because he knocks us down and stuns us, as a necessary preliminary to the transfer of the property from our own to our assailant's possession. The palhators of Richard's atrocities declare that he could do justice in matters where his own interest was not concerned ; but this fact, by proving that he knew better, is in fact an aggravation of the faults he was habitually guilty of. It has been insinuated that when he had got all he wanted, he might have improved, but that by killing him after he had come to the throne, his contemporaries gave him no chance of becoming respectable. It must be clear to every reasonable mind that the result, even had it been satisfactory, would never have been worth the cost of obtaining it, and that in tolerating Richard's pranks, on the chance of his becoming eventually a good king, his subjects might well have exclaimed le jeu rien vaut pas la chandelle. In the vexata questio of the cause of the death of the princes, the guilt has usually been attributed to Richard, because he reaped the largest benefit from their decease ; but this horrible doc- trine would imply that a tenant for life is usually murdered by the re- mainder-man, and that the enjoyer of the interest of Bank Stock is- frequently cut off by the reversioner who is entitled to the principal. We admit there is a strong case against Richard upon other more reasonable evidence : and thus from the magisterial bench of History do we commit him to take his trial, and be impartially judged by the whole of his countrymen. 314 CO.UIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. NATIONAL INDUSTRY. Let us now turn from the turmoil of war, and apply our eye-glass to the pursuits of peace ; for, having been surfeited for the present with royal rapacity, it will be refreshing to take a glance at national industry. London was at a very early period famous for the abundance of its wool, and it has been ingeniously suggested that the great quantity of wool may account for a sort of natural shyness or sheepishness among our fellow-countrymen. The Bill of Exchange was a luxury introduced in the beginning of the thirteenth century, for the accommodation of our forefathers, who had learned the value of a good name, and perhaps occasionally expe- rienced the inconveniences of a bad one. There is nothing very interesting in the history of Commerce until the time of Whittington, whose cat, we have already said, was a fabulous animal, though it has taken its place by the side of the British Lion in our English annals. We are inclined to believe that there is some analogy between these two brutes, and that both are meant to be the types respectively of our political and commercial prosperity. We have sometimes thought that the British Lion, from its plurality of lives, ought rather to be called the British Cat, especially from its readiness to come to the scratch when the altar or the throne may seem to be in jeopardy. Whatever may be the exact nature of the beast, it is cer- tainly a very highly-trained and somewhat harmless animal, for any statesman may place his head in the British Lion's mouth, and remove it again without suffering the slightest injur} 7 . The creature will roar loudly enough and show an ample expanse of jaw, but it is frequently vox et prceterea nihil with the noisy brute, whose grumbling is often indicative of his extreme emptiness. Whittington was certainly three times Lord Mayor of London, and we find him " doing a bill" for Henry IV. to the tune of a thousand pounds, and taking the subsidy on wool — out of which the sovereign generally fleeced the people — as collateral security. In the reign of Henry V. considerable advance was made in the art of ship-building, though from the pictures of the period it would seem that the craft exhibited very little of the workman's cunning. One of the ships of war of the fifteenth century, described in the Harleian MS., has all the appearance of a raft constructed of a few planks, with a sort of sentry-box at one end for the accommodation of the steersman. In the larger vessels the entire crew will be found always crowding the deck in a deuse mass ; for the rules against taking more than the number were CHAP. VIII ] WILLIAM OF TRUMPINGTON. 315 not enforced, and an ancient ship, like a modern carpet-bag, was never so full but something additional could be always crammed into it. In this age commerce was so highly respectable that even kings car- ried it on ; and the highest ecclesiastics were in business for themselves as tradesmen of the humblest character. Matthew Paris tells us of an abbot of St. Alban's who did a good deal m the fish line, under the name of William of Trumpington. His chief transactions were in Yar- mouth herrings, and the worthy abbot undertook to put upon every Ya-ah' Macker— el!" William of Trumpington, the Abbot of St. Alban's. breakfast table as good a bloater as money could procure, at a very moderate figure. The benevolent dignitary had come to the conclusion that the cure of herrings would pay him better than the cure of souls, and he accordingly added the former lucrative branch to the latter em- ployment, with a pompous declaration that the two might be considered analogous. This habit among the churchmen, of making all fish that came to their net, was by no means popular, and it was said in a lampoon of the day, that the next thing to be done w 7 ould be the conversion of a prebendal stall into an oyster stall. Among the other disreputable sources of revenue to which the eccle- siastics devoted themselves we must not omit to mention smuggling, which they carried on to an alarming extent in wool ; for after going wool-gathering in all directions, they padded themselves with it and stuffed it under their gowns for the purpose of eluding the Customs' regulations, to which the article was subjected. Edward IV. was a true tradesman at heart, and, had he been a general dealer instead of a king, he would have been quite in his proper station Nature had fitted him for the counter, though Fortune had placed him on the throne ; but even in his commercial transactions he was guilty of •acts that were quite unworthy of the high character of the British 3] 6 COMIO HISTORY OF ENG1AND. [BOOX IV. tradesman. The butt of Malmsey in which he caused his brother to be drowned was, it is believed, actually sold as a full fruity wine with " plenty of body in it," after poor Clarence had been in soak till death relieved him from his drenching. Edward IV. had also the disagree- able habit of enriching himself by money, which he borrowed from the merchants, and never thought proper to return to them himself; but if he paid them at all, he, by laying on taxes, took it out of the people. It was also a fraudulent propensity of some of our early kings, to depre- ciate the coin of the realm, and Edward III. managed to squeeze two hundred and seventy pennies, instead of two hundred and forty, out of a pound, which enabled him to put the odd half-crown into his own pocket. Henry IV. carried the sweating process still further, by dilut- ing a pound into thirty shillings, a trick he excused by alleging the scarcity of money ; though the expedient was as bad as that of the house- wife who, when the strength of the tea was gone, filled up the pot with water for the purpose of making more of it. Edward IV., considering that his predecessors had not subjected the pound to all the compound division of which it was capable, smashed it into four hundred pennies, which was certainly proving that he could make a pound go as far as any one. In speaking of the industry of the people, we may fairly allude to what was regarded at the time as a great drag upon it in the shape of a fearful increase of attorneys, who in 1455 had grown to such an extent in Norfolk and Suffolk, that those places were literally swarming witli the black fraternity. In the city of Norwich the attorneys were so plentiful that the evil began to correct itself, for they commenced preying on each other, like the water-lion and water-tiger in the drop of stagnant fluid viewed through the solar microscope. They were in the habit of attending markets and fairs, where they worked people up into bringing and defending actions against each other, without the smallest legal ground for proceedings on either side. A salutary statute cut down the exuberance of the attorneys by limiting their numbers, and six were appointed as a necessary evil for Suffolk ; six as a standing nuisance in Norfolk ; while two were apportioned under the head of things that, as they " can't be cured must be endured," to the city of Norwich. Such was the state of national industry up to the period at which we have arrived in our history. chai\ rx. MANNERS, CUSTOMS, ETC., OF THE PEOL'IJE. 317 CHAPTER THE NINTH OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE. otwithstanding that in a previous book we brought down the fashions and furniture of our forefathers to the fourteenth century, in the present chapter we shall have the pleasure of laying before our readers some considerably later intelligence. We left our ancestors lying upon very uncomfortable beds, but the year 1415 introduces us to some luxuries in the way of curtains and counterpanes. The Duke of York set forth his bedding in his will, which bears the date we have named, and he seems to have died worth some thousands of pounds — of superior goose feathers. At a somewhat later period the sheet burst upon the page of history, and a blank is supplied by the sudden appearance of the blanket. It was about the same period that clocks with strings and weights began to have a striking influence on the time, and Edward IV. used to carry one about with him wherever he went, but we do not believe that he wore it in a watchpocket, from which, instead of key and seals, there hung a couple of weights and a pendulum. Costume seems to have been curtailed of very little of its exuberant absurdity in the reigns of Henry IV. and V., though reform was carried to extremes, for it cut off the surplus hair from the head, and took away at least half a yard from the foot by relieving the shoes of their long points, a fashion whioh had always been remarkable for extreme pointlessness. In the reign of Edward IV there appeal's to have been a practice prevalent of making a shift to go without a shirt, when those who had such a thing to their backs were seized with a spirit of self-assertion, and began to slash open their sleeves for the purpose of showing their pos- session of that very useful article. The desire to prove the plenteous- ness and perhaps also the proprete of the under linen, led to a further ripping up of other parts of the dress, and the fops of the day began to outslash each other by opening the seams of their clothes in the most unseemly fashion. Richard III. and his " cousin of Buckingham" were notorious for their love of finery, and the term "buck," which is used at the present day, is evidently an abbreviation of Buckingham. Richard, probably, invented the Dicky or false front, which gave him the appearance of 318 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. having always a clean breast, though the fact is that he was reduced to the expedient of wearing a false front, because the stains of guilt upon his bosom were utterly indelible. The appetite of the fifteenth century seems to have been uncommonly good, for we find our ancestors eating four meals a day, beginning with breakfast at seven, dinner at ten, supper at four, and a collation taken in bed — oh, the cormorants ! — between eight and nine in the evening. The meal taken in bed may have consisted of a blanquette de veau, or perhaps now and then a bolster pudding, while the ladies may have indulged themselves with a cotelette en papillotes Earl Percy and his countess used to absorb between them a gallon of beer and a quart of wine, and before being tucked up for the night would tuck in a loaf of household bread, with other trifles to follow. A dinner in the days to which we are reverting generally lasted three hours, but tumblers and dancers were employed to amuse the feasters, so that a kind of caper sauce was served out with every dish that came to table. Nothing in the whole annals of ancient and modern gluttony can exceed the dinner said to have been given by George Neville, the brother of the King-maker, on his induction to the Archbishopric of York, in the fifteenth century. It opened with a hundred and four oxen, (an naturel,) six wild bulls, (a la menagere,) three hundred and four calves, (en surprise,) with innumerable entrees of pigs, bucks, stags, and roes, to an extent that is not only almost but quite incredible. The pictures of the period represent a very inconvenient mode of laying the table, for we find a fish served up in a slop-basin, or rather laid across the top of that article of china-ware, which was much too small to admit the body of the animal. As far as we can discern the intention of the artist, we fancy we recognise in one of his pictures of a feast a duck lying on its back in a sort of sugar-basin or salt-cellar This and" a land of mustard-pot, with an empty plate and half of a dinner-roll, may be said to constitute the entire provision made for a party of seven, who are standing up huddled together on one side of the table, in an existing representation of a dinner of the period. The sports of the people were very numerous in the fifteenth century ; but if we may judge by the pictures we have seen of the games, there was more labour than fun in the frolics of our forefathers. The contor- tions into which they seem to have thrown themselves while playing at bowls are quite painful to contemplate ; and the well-known game of quarter-staff consisted of a mutual battering of shins and skulls, with a pole about six feet in length and some inches in circumference. Tennis was introduced at this early date, and it is therefore erroneous to assign its- invention to Archbishop Tennison, — a report which has been spread by some unprincipled person, whose career of crime commencing in a pun has ended in a falsehood. The professional fool was a highly respectable character in the middle ages ; and the court jester was a most influential personage, who was allowed to criticise all the measures of the ministry. He was CHAP. IX.] MANNERS, CUSTOMS, ETC., OF THE PEOPLE. 31tf a sort of supplementary premier ; but, in later administrations — the present always excepted — the office of fool has merged among the mem- bers of the government. It is a curious fact, that, judging from the portraits which have been preserved, the fools seem to have been the most sensible-looking persons of their own time ; and the proverb, that i: it takes a wise man to make a fool," was, no doubt, continually realized. The practical jokes of the jester were sometimes exceedingly disagreeable, for they consisted chiefly of blows and buffets, administered by a short wand, called a bauble, which he was in the habit of carrying. It was all very well when the fool's sallies happened to be taken in good part, but a witticism coming mal-a-propos, would often prove no joke to the joker, who would get soundly thrashed for his impertinence. An ancient writer * describes the functions of a fool to have consisted chiefly of "making mouths, dancing about the house, leaping over the tables, outskipping men's heads, tripping up his companions' heels," and indulging in other similar facetia, which, though falling under the head of fun for the fool himself, might have been death to the victims of his exuberant gaiety. His life must have been one unbroken panto- mime ; though its last scene was seldom so brilliant as those bowers of bliss and realms of delight in the island of felicity, which owe their existence to the combined ingenuity of the painter and the machinist. The spirit of chivalry had already begun to decline, or rather chivalry had lost its spirit altogether, for when it once became diluted it took very little time to evaporate. The few real combats that were fought referred chiefly to judicial proceedings, in which points of law were decided by the points of lances. The combatants probably thought they might as well bleed each other as allow themselves to be bled by the hands of the lawyers. The tournaments had dwindled down into the most contemptible exhibitions, for the spears used were entirely head- less, and an encounter generally ended in the clashing together of a couple of blunted swords or the flourishing in the air of a brace of huge choppers, so that as the antagonists kept turning about, they might be said to revolve round each others' axes. Before concluding our chapter on the manners and customs of the people at the date to which our history has arrived, we may notice some regulations for apparel, by which it was ordered, not only that every man should cut his coat according to his cloth, but should select his cloth according to the means he had of buying it. Apparel was not the only thing with which the law interfered, but some Acts were passed, fixing the rate of meals to be allowed to servants, and thus ameliorating their condition. Articles of dress were subjected to the most stringent legislation, and tailors were of necessity guided by Parliamentary mea- sures ; carters and ploughmen were limited by law to a blanket, so that ihe lightness of the restrictions permitted a looseness of attire, which was highly convenient. Persons not of noble rank were prohibited from * Lodge author of the Wit's Mis erie. 4to, 15.99. 300 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK TV wearing garments of undue brevity; and it was only those of the highest standing to whom the shortest dresses were permitted. It was in the period to which the present chapter refers, that English pauperism first became the subject of legislation; and it was an ac- knowledged principle, that the land must provide the poor with food and shelter, for civilization had not yet required the suppression of desti- tution by starvation and imprisonment. We have now brought down our account of the condition ot the people from the highest to the lowest, from the king on his throne to the pauper on his parish, from the royal robber in the palace to the sturdy beggar in the public thoroughfare. We have seen how England was torn to pieces by the thorns belonging to the Roses, and how after fightin* about the difference between white and red, the union of both tau"ht°those who had been particular to a shade, the folly of observing so much nicety. Future chapters must develope the influence which this union produced, and will show the effect of that junction between the damask and the cabbage roses, which had only been brought about by dyeing them in the blood of so many Englishmen. THE eomte #&tnrg at ^ngftnm BOOK V. CHAPTER THE FIRST. HENEY THE SEVENTH. hough Henry had got the crown upon his head, he did not feel quite sine of jpi|— i being able to keep it there, for he knew there was nothing so difficult to balance on the top of a human pole as a regal diadem. He felt that what had been won by the sword must be sustained by that dangerous weapon, though he was not insensible to the fact that edged tools are fre- quently hurtful to the hand that uses them. He became jealous of Edward Plantagenet, a boy of fifteen, the heir of the Duke of York, and grandson of Warwick, the king-maker. This unhappy lad was sent to the Tower, lest his superior right might prove mightier than the might which Henry had displayed' on the field of Bos- worth. The Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the Queen Dowager, who was known .by the humbler name of Mrs. E Woodville, was let out of prison, to whicli she had been consigned by Richard III., who kept her closely under lock and key from the moment when he found it impossible to unite her to him in wedlock. Henry came up to London five days after the battle of Bosworth, and was met at Hornsey by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, all dressed in violet, which caused the new king to exclaim, " Ha ! gentlemen, you VOL. II. B COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. I BOOK V. wish me to take a hint. Your privileges shall be, like yourselves, in-violate !" He then proceeded in a close chariot to St. Paul's, where he deposited his three standards ; and it has been suggested, that the celebrated Standard at Cornhill was one of those alluded to. The festivities in London were so numerous at the accession, that the city became crowded to suffocation, and the "sweating sickness," which will be remembered as Stanley's old complaint, broke out among the inhabitants. When it had abated Henry began to think about his coronation, and he took an early dinner at Lambetli with the Arch- bishop of Canterbury — Thomas Bourchier — to talk the matter over. The king and the prelate soon came to terms over their chop for the Henry Vil. taking a Chop with- the Archbishop of Canterbury. performance of the ceremony, which took place on the 30th of October, 1485, in the usual style of elegance. The good archbishop was an old and experienced hand : for he had crowned Richard III. only two years before, and indeed the system of the prelate was, to ask no questions that he might hear no falsehoods ; but he was always ready to perform CHAP, I.] MARRIAGE WITH ELIZABETH WOODVILLE. 3 a coronation for any one who could find his own crown, and pay the fees that were usual. A Parliament was now summoned, but when the Commons came together, it turned out that several of them had been attainted and outlawed in previous reigns without the attainders having been since reversed, and Henry himself was in the same doubtful predicament The opinion of the judges was required in this disagreeable dilemma, but the intention in consulting them was only to get these accommodating interpreters of the law to twist it into a shape that would mee* existing contingencies. With the usual pliability of the judges of those days, the parties whose opinion was asked gave it in favour of the strongest side, and Henry's having got the crown was declared to have cured all deficiencies of title. The Commons were obliged to have bills passed to reverse their attainders, but the king, like one of those patent fire- places which are advertised to consume their own smoke, was alleged to have cured the defects of his own title by the bare fact of his having got possession of the royal dignity. Having settled all matters concerning his claim to the throne, he began to think about his intended wife, Elizabeth. " I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting," said he to Miss Woodville ; "but really I have been detained by other engagements." The young lady, who had sometimes feared that her case was one of breach of promise, was glad to disguise her real annoyance, and saying that " It did not at all signify," she prepared for the much retarded nuptials. They were solemnised on the 18th of January, 1486, and they were no sooner over than Henry exclaimed, " Now, Madam, recollect I have married you, but have not married your family." This uncourteous speech had reference to old Mrs. Woodville, who had already written to know what her new son-in-law would do for her. " I will not have her in the house," roared Henry, with savage earnestness ; but he settled a small annuity upon her, which he enabled himself to pay by pocketing the whole of her dower. The Queen became anxious for her coronation, as any woman might reasonably be ; but Henry put her off day after day, by exclaiming, "Don't be in a hurry; there's time enough for that nonsense." In this heartless manner he succeeded in adjourning the pageant for an indefinite period. Henry's next project was to get up his popularity by a tour in the provinces. Happening to put up at Lincoln, he heard that Lord Lovel, with Humphrey and Thomas Stafford " had gone with dangerous inten- tions no man knew whither." They had much better have remained where they were ; for Lord Lovel, after collecting a large body of insurgents, found himself quite unable to pay their wages, and at once disbanded them. He flew into Flanders ; but the two Staffords were taken in the very act of concocting an insurrection, for which Hum- phrey, the elder, was hanged, while Thomas, on account of his youtb ? was pardoned. b2 4 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. Henry arrived on the 26th of April, 1486, at York, where Richard III., though killed on Bosworth Field, was still living in some of the people's memories. The marking-ink, in which the tyrant's name was written on their hearts, being by no means indelible, Henry determined to sponge it out as quickly as possible. He tried soft soap upon some and golden ointment upon others ; both of which specifics had so much effect that in less than a month the city rang with cries of "Long live King Henry!" On the 20th of September, the Court newsman of the day announced the interesting fact that the happiness of the king's domestic circle had been increased by the birth of a son ; or, rather, the royal circle had been turned into a triangle by the arrival of an infant heir, who was named Arthur. We must now request the reader to throw the luggage of his imagination on board the boat, and accompany us to Ireland, where, on landing, we will introduce him, ideally, to a priest and a boy who have just arrived in Dublin. The priest describes his young charge as Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, which will astonish us not a little, inasmuch as our friend, the reader, will remember that we left the little fellow not long ago a close prisoner in the Tower. How he got out is the question which we first ask ourselves, which we answer by intimating, that he did not get out at all, but he was only " a boy dressed up" to represent the young Earl, and he played his part so well that many believed his story to be genuine. He had studied the character he represented, and had got by heart all the adventures of the young prince, together with a fund of anecdote that appeared quite inexhaustible. The juvenile impostor scarcely spoke a sentence that did not begin with "When I was a prisoner in the Tower," which made every one believe that he had really been an inmate of that gloomy jail ; and the trick succeeded to a miracle. The urchin was proclaimed as Edward VI., King of England and France and Lord of Ireland ; for such was the credulity of the Hibernians that they believed every word of the tale that had been told to them. Henry, desirous of exposing the fraud, had the real Plantagenet taken out of the Tower, for exhibition in the London streets ; but the Irish declared that the real thing was a mere imposition, and the mock duke the genuine article. They, in fact, illustrated that instructive fable, in which an actor, having been applauded for his imitation of a pig, was succeeded by a rival who went the whole hog and concealed in the folds of his dress a real brute, whose squeak was pronounced very far less natural than that of the original representative of the porcine character. Henry becoming a little alarmed at these proceedings, began rushing into the extremes of levity and severity; now pardoning a host of political offenders, and the next day, packing off the Queen Dowager — marked " Carriage paid, with care," — to the monks at Bermondsey. Lambert Simnel, for so the impostor was called, held out as long as he could, and even got up, by subscription, one coronation during the CHAP. I.] LAMBERT SIMS EL. season ; but upon Henry's taking measures to chastise him he soon shrunk into insignificance. After a battle at Stoke, the pretender and his friend, the priest, were taken into custody, when the latter was handed over to the church for trial, and the former received a con- temptuous pardon, including the place of scullion, to wash up the dishes and rim for the beer in the royal household. He was at once placed in the kitchen, where his perquisites, probably in the way of kitchen stuff, enabled him to save a little money, and, in order to better himself, he subsequently sought and ob- tained the office of superinten- dent of the poultry yard, under the imposing title of the king's falconer. The priest, his tutor, seems to have dropped down one of those gratings of the past which lead to the common sewer of obscurity, in which it is quite impossible to follow him. We hear of him last look ing through the bars of a prison, where he was left till called for, and, as nobody ever called, he never seems to have emerged from his captivity. The friends of the house of York now became clamorous at the treat- ment of the Queen Elizabeth, who had been kept in obscurity, and had urged " that little matter of the coronation" over and over again upon the attention of her selfish husband. " How you bother !" he would sometimes exclaim to his unhappy consort, whom he would endeavour to quiet by the philosophical inquiry of " What are the odds, so long as you re happy ?" — a question which, as Elizabeth was not happy, she found some difficulty in answering. At length, one morning at break- fast, he said sulkily, " Well, I suppose I shall never have any peace till that affair comes off;'' and the necessary orders for the coronation of the Queen were immediately given. Henry, himself, behaved in a . very ungentlemanly manner, during the entire ceremony, for he viewed it from behind a screen,* which was afterwards brousrht into the hall, to enable him to sit at his ease out of sight, and take occasional peeps at the dinner He had refused to honour the proceedings with his presence, having declared the ceremony to be " slow," and alleged the * The old chroniclers affirm that he looked on " from hehind s lattice." A modern authority has it, that the king looked on at the dinner from behind a lettuce — spelt lattice — and had a magnificent salad before him during the proceedings. A Youn? Pretender. 6 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK \\ impossibility of his sitting it out after having once suffered the infliction. It was at about this period of the reign of Henry VII. that the Court of Star Chamber was established ; and though it, ultimately,* " became odious by the tyrannical exercise of its powers," its intentions were originally as honourable as the most scrupulous of its suitors could have desired. It was founded in consequence of the inefficiency of the ordinary tribunals to do complete justice in criminal matters and other offences of an extraordinary and dangerous character,! and to supply a sort of criminal equity — if we may be allowed the term — which should, reach the offences of great men, whom the inferior judges and juries of the ordinary tribunals might have been afraid to visit with their merited punishment. It has been suggested with some plausibility that the court of Star Chamber derived its name from the decorations of the room in which it was held, though it is perhaps a more ingenious supposition of a modern authority, that the word " Star" was applied to the court in question because within its walls justice was administered in a twinkling. It might, with as much reason, be suggested that the name had reference to the constellation of legal talent of which the tribunal was composed : for those stars of the first magnitude — the Lord Chancellor, the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Privy Seal, and the President of the Council — were all of them judges of the Court. We must not, however, detain the reader any longer in a dull court of law, for we find ourselves served, in imagination, with a writ of Habeas Corpus, commanding us to bring him up for the purpose of inquiring by what right we hold him in the disagreeable duress of dry legal detail. In returning to Henry, we find him offering to act as mediator between Charles of France and the Duke of Bretagne, when, like every meddler in the disputes of others, he is unable to emerge from the position in which he has placed himself, without that nasal tweak which is the due reward of impertinence. The taxes he was obliged to impose for the purpose of interference, undertaken, as he alleged, to curb the ambition of the French court were very exorbitant, and particularly so on account of Henry's avarice, which induced him to put about ten per cent, of every levy into his own pocket. The people were, of course, dissatisfied, and the harshness used in collecting the subsidy irritated them so much in the north, that they took their change out of the unfortunate Duke of Northumberland, whom they killed, because he had the ill luck to be employed in the invidious office of tax- gatherer. In 1490 parliament liberally granted some more money to carry on * Vide the valuable work on the Equitable Jurisdiction of the Court of Chancery, comprising its Rise, Progress, and Final Establishment. By George Spence, Esq., Q.CL Vol. i., page 350. f Ditto, page 351. CHAP. I ] PERKIN WARBECK PRETENDS TO THE CROWN. 7 the war with France, but Henry pocketed the cash, and sent some priests to try and compromise the matter with the enemy. It was not until four years afterwards, in the course of 1494, that he really went to work against the French, but he contrived to make it pay him exceedingly well ; for he not only grabbed the subsidies voted for the purpose, but he converted them into so much clear profit, by getting his knights and nobles to bear their own expenses out of their own pockets. He kindly gave them permission to sell their estates without the ordinary fines ; and many a gallant fellow sold himself completely up, in the hope of indemnifying himself by what he should be able to take from the French in battle. Henry had, however, completely humbugged his gallant knights and nobles; for he never intended them to have the chance of gaining anything in France by conquest, and had, in fact, settled the whole matter at a very early period. He had made up his mind not to spend more than he could help, and had been putting away the subsidies in a couple of huge portmanteaus, which served him for coffers. Under the pretence of doing something, he passed over with his army to France, and " sat down" before Boulogne, but his sitting down proved that he had no intention of making any stand, and a truce was very soon agreed upon. Two treaties were drawn up, one of which was to be made public, for the purpose of misleading the people, and the other was a private transaction between the two sovereigns. The first only stipulated for peace, but the second secured the sum of £149,000 to be paid by instalments to Henry, who must have been under the necessity of ordering another coffer to receive the additional w T ealth that was thus poured in upon him. New troubles were, however, commencing to disturb the mind of the king, who received one morning at breakfast, a despatch announcing the arrival, at the Cove of Cork, of another pretender to the Crown of Eng- land. "There seems to be no end to these vagabonds," he mentally exclaimed, as he read the document announcing that a handsome young man had been giving himself out as Richard Duke of York, second son of Edward IV., and legitimate heir to the monarchy. " Pooh, pooh," ejaculated Henry, " the fellow was disposed of in the Tower long ago ; " but on perusing further he found that the young man had met this objection by alleging that he had escaped, and had been for seven years a wanderer. It was exceedingly improbable that the royal youth had been so long upon the tramp ; but his story was not very rigidly criticised by Henry's enemies. The wanderer introduced himself to the Duchess of Burgundy, who, after some inquiry, pronounced him to be genuine, and embraced him as the undoubted son of her dear brother Edward. She gave him the poetical name of the White Hose of England ; but Henry knowing that " the rose by any other name" would not "smell as sweet" in the nostrils of the English, gave out that the " White Rose " was a Jew boy of the name of Peterkin or Perkin Warbeck. It was further alleged that the lad had been recently a footman in the family of Lady 8 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK V. Brompton, frith whom he had been travelling. Peterkin was materially damaged in public opinion by getting the character of a mere " flunky," and he was afraid to do more than hover about the coast without venturing to effect a landing. Though Henry had held the Pretender up to ridicule, Perkin Warbeck's opposition was in reality no joke, and the king bribed a few of the party to betray their colleagues. Several were at once informed against, among whom were the two Ratcliffes who denied their guilt in the usual Katcliffe highway: but their repudiation had no effect, for one of them was at once beheaded. Sir William Stanley, a very old friend of the Richmond family, whose brother, Lord Stanley, had put the battered crown on Henry's brow in the field of Bosworth, became an object of suspicion ; and thinking he should get off by a confession, he acknowledged everything he had been guilty of, with a supplement containing a catalogue of offences he had never committed. Thus by denying too much for confession and owning enough for condemnation, he fell between two stools — one of which was the stool of repentance — and lost his head at the moment he fancied he was upon a safe footing. The party of Perkin Warbeck being discouraged by these events, and the people of Flanders having grown tired of the Pretender's long visit, he felt that "now or never," was the time for his descent on England. The White Rose having torn himself away by the force of sheer pluck, attempted to transplant himself to the coast of Deal, but he found a Kentish knight, ready to repel the Rose, and by a cry of " Go it, my tulips," encouraging his followers to resist all oppression. The White Rose and his companions mournfully took their leaves, and as many as could escape returned with press of sail to Flanders Henry sent a vote of thanks to the men of Kent with a promise of gold, but the remittance never came to hand from that day to the present. Mr. P. Warbeck was now becoming such a nuisance in Flanders, that he was told he must really suit himself with another situation immediately. He tried Ireland, but the dry announcement of "no such person known," was almost the only answer to his overtures. As a last resource, and a proof of the desperate nature of his fortune he actually threw himself upon the generosity of the Scotch, which was almost as hopeless as running his head against a stone wall ; but as it was just possible that Perkin Warbeck, might be turned to profitable account against England, the Scotch opened their hearts — where there is never any admission exoept on business — to the adventurous wanderer. James III., king of Scotland, chiefly out of spite to Henry, not only received Perkin as the genuine duke of York, but married him to Lady Catherine Gordon, the lovely and accomplished daughter of the Earl of Huntley, a relative of the royal house of Stuart. An agreement was drawn up between James of Scotland of the one part, and Perkin Warbeck of the other, by virtue of which Perkin was to be pitchforked on to the English throne, and was to make over the town of Berwick- on Tweed — when he got it — as an acknowledgment to King James for CHAr I.] THE CORNISH INSURRECTION. 9 his valuable services. After some little delay, the Scotch crossed the border to enforce Perkin's demand ; but when that individual arrived in England, he found himself so thoroughly snubbed that he sneaked back again. Notwithstanding the utter failure of this enterprise, which had cost Heniy not a penny to resist, he sent in a bill as long as his arm for the equipment of his army. The people who had not been called upon to strike a single blow, and always liked to have, what they called, " their whack for their money," were enraged at being asked to pay for a battle that had never happened. The men of Cornwall were particularly angry at having to give any of their tin, and came up to Blackheath, under Lord Audley, whose inexperience was so great that he might have furnished the original for the sign of the " Green Man," which so long remained the distinguishing feature of the neighbourhood. The battle of Blackheath was fought on the 22nd of June, 1497, with a good deal of superfluous strength on one side, and consummate bad management on the other. On the side of the insurgents, one Flammock or Flummock, an attorney, was a principal leader, but he would gladly have taken out a summons to stay proceedings, had such practice been allowable. It is probable that this " gentleman one, &c." had been persuaded by some noble client who had an interest in the fight to appear as his attorney in this memorable action. Henry having gained eveiy advantage in his recent transactions was desirous of completing his arrangements, by purchasing Warbeck, if any one could be found base enough to sell that unfortunate individual. James of Scotland was too honourable for such a shameful bargain, though he was greatly embarrassed in assisting Warbeck, for whom he had melted down his plate — an act worthy of the most fiddle-headed spoon — besides raising money on a gold chain he used to wear, and to which he was so attached, that he compared it to " Linked sweetness long drawn out," as he drew it forth from his pocket to put it into the hands of the pawnbroker. It was now intimated to Perkin "Warbeck that he " had better go," for his presence had become exceedingly costly and embarrassing. " I've nothing more for you, my good man," were the considerate words of James as he despatched his guest to seek his fortune elsewhere, attended by a few trusty retainers, who stuck to him " through thick and thin," an attachment which, as he could hardly pay his own way, must have been very embarrassing. His wife's fidelity to him in his ill- fortune was a beautiful as well as a gratifying fact, for she had, really, seen much better days, and the sacrifices she made in sharing the fate of a Pretender " out of luck " was quite undeniable. Perkin Warbeck made first for Cork in the hope of raising the Irish, but as he could not raise the Spanish, the former would have nothing to do with him. He next tried Cornwall, and marching inland he soon 10 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. found himself at the head of a party of discontented ragamuffins, who happened to be ready for a row, without any ulterior views of a very Perkin Warbeck and his Army. definite character. He called himself Eichard IV., and penetrated into England as far as Taunton Dean, where Henry's forces had already collected. Warbeck was admirable in all his preliminary arrangements, and it was " quite a picture " to see him reviewing his troops ; but, picture as he was, the idea of fighting put him into such a fright, that he always lost his colour. He was first-rate on parade, but quite unequal to the business of a battle, and, indeed, to use an illustration founded on a fact of our own times, he would have been invaluable in the Astley's version-' of Waterloo, though utterly contemptible in the original per- formance of that tremendous action. No sooner had Perkin Warbeck ascertained the propinquity of the enemy than he recommended that his forces should all go to bed in good time to be fresh for action early in the morning. Having first ascertained that all were asleep, he stole off to the stable, saddled his horse, and having mounted the poor brute, stuck spurs into its side until he reached the sanctuary of Beaulieu in the New Forest. When this CHAP. I.] KIND TREATMENT OF LADY CATHERINE GORDON. 11 disgraceful desertion of their leader was discovered the rebels set up a piteous howl and threw themselves on the mercy of Henry, who ordered some to hang, and sent others to starve, by dismissing them without food or clothing. Lady Catherine Gordon, alias Mrs. P. Warbeck, who had been sojourning for safety at St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall, was brought before the King, who, touched by her beauty and her tears, experienced in his heart that truly English sentiment which declares, that " the man who would basely injure a lovely woman, in distress, is Henry VII. and Perkin Warbeck's Wife. unworthy of the name of a — a — British officer." Pie therefore sent her on a visit to the Queen, who paid every attention to the fallen heroine. The next thing to be done was to rout Perkin Warbeck out of the hole into which cowardice had driven him. Henry was unwilling to disturb the sanctuary, but he sent his agents to parley with Perkin, who, finding himself regularly hemmed in, thought it better to come out on 12 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. the best terms lie could, and he accordingly emerged on the promise of a pardon. Henry was anxious to get a peep at the individual who had caused so much trouble, but thought it injra dig. to admit the rebel into the royal presence. The king, therefore, reverted to his old practice of getting behind a screen, an article he must have carried about with him wherever he went, that he might, unseen, indulge his curiosity. This paltry practice should have obtained for him the name of Peeping Harry, for we find him, at more than one period of his reign, skulking behind a screen, in the most ignoble manner. Perkin was made to ride up to London, behind Henry, at a little distance, and on getting to town he was sent on horseback through Cheapside and Cornhill, as a show for the citizens. There were the usual demonstrations of popular criticism on this occasion, and there is no doubt that amid the gibes and scoffs addressed to the captive the significant interrogatory of " Who ran away from Taunton Dean ? " was not forgotten. After taking a turn to the Tower and back for the accommodation of the inhabitants at the East End, who desired to be gratified with a sight of the Pretender, Perkin was lodged in the palace at Westminster, where a good deal of liberty seems to have been allowed him. He however chose to run away, and being caught again, he was made to stand in the stocks a whole day before the door of Westminster Hall, where he was made to read a written confession, which was interrupted by an occasional egg in his eye, or cabbage leaf over his mouth, for such are the voluntary contributions which a British public has always been ready to offer to helpless impotence. The next day the same ceremony with the same accessories was repeated at Cheapside, in order to give the East End an opportunity of enjoying the sport, which the West End had already revelled in. Perkin Warbeck was then committed to the Tower, where he and the unfor- tunate Earl of Warwick became what may be termed fast friends, for they were bound tightly together in the same prison. Warbeck, who was in every sense of the word an accomplished swindler, succeeded in winning the good opinion, not only of his fellow captive, but of the keepers of the jail, three of whom, it is said, had actually undertaken to murder Sir John Digby, the governor, for the sake of getting hold of the keys, and releasing the two captives. It was now evident that Warbeck would never be quiet, and Henry, feeling him to be a trouble- some fellow, determined to get rid of him. On the 16th of November, 1499, Warbeck was arraigned at Westminster Hall, and being found guilty as a matter of course, was executed on the 23rd of the same month at Tyburn, where, cowardly to the last, he asked the forgiveness of the king, even on the scaffold. Walpole, in his " Historic Doubts "^— a work that throws every thing into uncertainty and settles nothing — gives it as his opinion that Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York ; but had Walpole been able to tell " a sheep's head from a carrot," he would never have been guilty of such a piece of confounding and confounded blundering. We who give CHAP. I.J PEUK1N WABBJ3CK. 13 no encouragement whatever to Historic Doubts are tolerably sure that Perkin Warbeck was merely a fashionable swindler, for he had none of Perkin Warbeck heading his Confession. that personal courage or true dignity which would have redeemed his imposture from the character of mere quackery. He contrived to ruin poor Warwick, or at all events to hasten his destruction by implicating him in a conspiracy, which of his own accord he never would have dreamed of. ^ When put upon his trial, the hapless earl— who, though only twenty- nine years of age, was from long seclusion in a'state of second childhood, if indeed he had ever got out of his first — confessed with piteous sim plicity all that had been alleged against him. He was beheaded on 14 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. Tower Hill the 24th* of November, 1499 ; and it was said that his death was the most merciful that could be conceived, for in losing his head he was deprived of that which he never knew how to use, and of the pos- session of which he did not at any time seem sensible. Warbeck's widow continued to go by the name of the White Rose, when Sir Mathew Cradoc, thinking it a pity that she should be " left blooming alone," offered to graft her on his family tree, and the White Eoso consented to this arrangement. Henry had long been anxious to marry his daughter Margaret to James of Scotland, and he sent a cunning bishop, most appropriately named Fox, to act the part of a match-maker. The sly old dog brought the matter so cleverly about that the marriage was agreed upon, and this anion led to the peaceful union of the two countries about a century afterwards. The young lady got but a small portion from her stingy father, and her husband made a settlement upon her of £2000 a year, but. he got her to accept a paltry compromise. The meanness of the arrangements may be judged of by the ridiculous fact that King James and his young bride rode into Edinburgh on the same palfrey. Henry's eldest son, Arthur Prince of Wales, had been already married to Catherine, fourth daughter of Ferdinand of Spain, who promised 200,000 crowns, half of which he paid down, as a wedding portion. The young husband died soon after, and Ferdinand naturally asked for his money and his child back again. The English king had pocketed the greater part of the cash, which he was not only quite unwilling to refund, but he had serious thoughts of proceeding for the balance of his daughter-in-law's dowry. He therefore consented to affiance her to his second son, Henry, in compliance with the only condition upon which Ferdinand agreed to waive his claim to the cash already in hand, and he even promised to pay the rest of the portion at his " earliest convenience." Henry himself, or as we may call him for the sake of distinction, the " old gentleman," had lately lost his wife, and he went at once into the matrimonial market to see whether there was anything upon which it might be safe to speculate. He however wanted to conduct his opera- tions with such extraordinary profit to himself that nothing seemed to tempt his avarice. His ruling passion was for "cash down," and to obtain this he fleeced his subjects most unmercifully, though he employed the disreputable firm of Empsom and Dudley to collect the amount of the various extortions he was continually practising. These two men were little better than swindlers, though as lawyers they adhered to the rules of law, and indeed they kept a rabble always in the house to sit as jurymen. They had trials in their own office, and would often ring the bell to order up a jury from down stairs, just as any one in the present * Hume says the 21st. Another authority says the 28th. It is not with a mero wish to " split the difference " that we adopt the medium date of the 24th, but we have good reasons for stating that to he the exact day, and Mr. Charles Macfarlane, in his admirable " Cabinet History of England " has likewise named the 24th of November as the precise time of Warwick's execution. CHAP. I.] DEATH OF HENRY VII. 15 day would order up his dinner. Dudley got the name of the Leech, from his power of drawing, and indeed he would have got the blood out of a blood-stone if the opportunity had been afforded him.* Henry had now but one formidable enemy left, in the person of young Edmund de la Pole, the nephew of Edward IV., and son and heir to the Duke of Suffolk. This turbulent individual renewed the cry in favour of the " White Eose," which was said by a wag of the day to be raised on a pole, after the fashion of the frozen-out gardeners. Suffolk soon had the mortification of finding that he had not the suffrages of the people, for the rush to the Pole was anything but encouraging. " Ye Pole theyreforre " says Comines, " dydde cutte hys stycke " and became a penniless fugitive in Flanders. He was ulti- mately surrendered by Philip, the archduke who had received Suffolk as a visitor, but gave him up with a lot of sundries he was transferring to Henry, who promised to spare the prisoner's life, and did so, though he left word in his will that his successor had better kill the earl as he would otherwise prove troublesome. In the course of the year 1509, Henry's health became very in- different, and he had repeated attacks of the gout, every one of which put him in ill-humour with himself in particular, and the world in general. Every fresh twinge was paid with interest upon one or more of his unfortunate subjects ; and when he got ?ery bad he would be most indiscriminate in his cruelty He fixed upon a poor old alderman named Harris, who died of sheer vexation at his ill-treatment before his indictment came on : and at this remote period we hope we shall not be accused of injuring the feelings of any of the posterity of poor Harris by saying, that he was literally harassed to death through the unkindness of his sovereign. During his illness Henry would do justice occasionally between man and man, but a favourable turn in his malady, a quiet night, or a refreshing nap, would bury all his good resolutions in oblivion. At length on the night of the 21st of April, 1509, he died at Eichmond, leaving behind him a will in which he bequeathed to his son and heir, the delightful task of repairing all his father's errors. However easy it may be for an executor to pay the pecuniary debts of a testator with plenty of assets in hand, the moral responsibilities which have been left unsatisfied, are not so soon provided for. It is true that a good son frequently makes atonement to society for the mischief done by a bad parent ; but this, though it strikes a sort of balance with the world, does not prevent the father from being still held accountable for his deficiencies. Henry died in the fifty-third year of his age, and had he lived a day longer, he would have reigned twenty- three years and eight months, or as Cocker has it, in the simplicity of his heart, " had he been alive in * Empson has been described by Hume as a man of " mean birth and brutal temper,** who of course did all the bullying of this disreputable firm, while Dudley, who was " better born, better educated, and better bred," acted in the capacity of what may be termed the decoy duck of the concern ; or, in other words, the latter snared the game which the former savagely butchered. 16 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. the year 1700, he would have reigned upwards of two centuries." Our business, however, is not with what he might have done, but what he actually did, and we therefore record the fact, that he died April 21st, 1509, and was buried in the magnificent chapel of Westminster Abbey which he built, and which is called after him to this very day and hour that we now write upon.* It is often the most painful part of our labours to give characters of some of the sovereigns who pass under our review in the course of this histoiy. To those who have only known Henry VII. as the chivalrous and high-minded prince that fought so gallantly with Kichard III. on the field of Bosworth, it will be distressing to hear that the Richmond of their dramatic recollections is nothing like a true portrait of the actual character. At all events, if he had virtues in his youth they were not made to wear, for they became sufficiently thread- bare to be seen through before he had been a single month an occupant of the throne of England. Even his ambition seems to have been little more than a medium he had adopted for gratifying his avarice, and it is now pretty clear that he rather wanted the crown for what it was worth in a pecuniary point of view, than for the honourable gratification which power when rightly used is capable of conferring on its possessor. Hume tells us that " Henry loved peace without fearing war," which is true enough : for war afforded him a pretext for raising money, while peace, which he generally managed to arrange, gave him an opportunity of pocketing the cash he had collected. War, therefore, was never formida- ble to him, for he usually manoeuvred to keep out of it ; but he made the rumour of it serve as an excuse for taxing his people. He was decidedly clever as a practical man, though exceedingly unprincipled, but several salutary laws were passed in his reign : one of the best of which was an act allowing the poor to sue in forma pauperis. Considering how often the law reduces its suitors to poverty, it is only fair that those who are brought to such a condition should still be allowed to go on, for it is like ruining a man and then turning him out of doors to say that the courts shall be closed against such as are penniless. Another important and useful measure of Henry's reign was that by which the nobility and gentry could alienate their estates, or cut off the tail, which limited everything to the head of a family. This apparently liberal act was passed for the benefit of the king himself, who wished his nobles to be able to sell everything they had got for the sake of paying the expenses of the wars, which otherwise must have been prosecuted partly out of Henry's own pocket. He owed more to fortune than to his own merit, and even the conspiracies that were got up against him from time to time helped to sustain him in his high position, as the shuttlecock is kept in a state of elevation by constant blows from the battledore. * A quarter to one, a.m., April loth, 1847. CHAP. If.] HENRY THE EIGHTH. 17 CHAPTER THE SECOND. HENRY THE EIGHTH. enry VIII., only surviving son and successor of Henry VII. took to his father's crown and sceptre on the 2 2nd of April, 1509, amid general rejoicing, for he was an ex- ceedingly gentle- manly youth of eighteen, when he came to the throne, of which his parent had recently heen but a bearish occu- pant. If young Harry had never lived to play old Harry, his popu- larity might have survived him, for the people had become disgusted with the conduct of his father, and there never was a finer chance for a young man than that which offered itself to the new sovereign. •Nothing could exceed the grossness of the adulation which was poured out upon him at his accession, and the perfection of the art of putting in England, may, perhaps, be ascribed to this period of our history. His countenance was likened to that of Apollo — a falsehood for which, in his features, no apolo — gy can be found : his chest was declared to be that of Mars, though it was evidently his Pa's, for in early youth his resemblance to his father was remarkable. Clemency was declared to be seated on his ample forehead, Equity was pronounced to be balancing itself on the bridge of his nose, Intelligence was recognised lurking in ambush among his bushy hair ; and even Erasmus attributes to him the acuteness of the needle, with other intellectual qualities of an exalted character.* It is sad to reflect that the philosopher, when he takes the paint- brush in hand to dash off the portrait of a king, is apt to become a mere * "We are indebted to Mr. Tytler, -who is generally correct to a tittle, for these interesting particulars. — See his Life of Henry VIII., p 16 of tfc-* 2nd Edition. VOL. TT. IB COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. parasite, and will not abstain from staining his own character by daubing with false colours the canvas of history. Thus, even Erasmus used hues his friends would be glad to erase, and has covered over the black spots in Henry's character, with that pink of perfection which makes couleur de rose of everything. It is not to be wondered at, that in setting out upon the voyage of government Henry received "one turn-a-head " — if we may be allowed a nautical expression — while the engines of flattery were at work on all sides of him. It is to be regretted, for the sake of himself as well as for the good of his subjects, that truth was not at hand to give him that friendly "shove astern" which has saved many from precipitating themselves on the rocks that always lie in the course of greatness and power. As if determined to begin as he intended to go on, Henry looked out at once for a wife, and, considering how often he was destined to undergo the marriage ceremony in the course of his reign, it was as well that he should lose no time in commencing the career that lay before him. In his first matrimonial adventure he appears to have let others choose for him, instead of making a selection for himself, and Catherine of Aragon, the widow of his elder brother, Arthur, was pointed out to him as an eligible parti for nuptial purposes. This marriage was strongly recommended by the political faculty, as a saving of expense, for the lady would have been entitled to a large pension as widow of Prince Arthur ; and her friends in Spain, had she been returned upon their hands, would have wanted to know something about the 150,000 crowns she had received as a marriage portion. Of course the whole of it was gone, and it was thought that Henry would be killing a whole covey of birds with one stone, if he would consent to take her as his wife, inasmuch as he would thus extinguish her claims to a pension, and prevent any awkward questions being asked in Spain as to the portion she had brought with her to England. Henry feeling a sort of intuitive consciousness that he should have plenty of opportu- nities to select a wife for himself, agreed to take, as a beginning, the one that had been chosen for him by others, and accordingly, on the 3rd of June, 1509, the lady, who was eight years older than himself, became his wife, at Greenwich. The royal couple were not destined to roll down the hill together in after life, whatever they may have done on the day of their union, which was doubtless marked by all those sports of which the locality was susceptible. Catherine, though a little passee, looked exceedingly well, for, in order to render her appearance more attractive, she was dressed in white, and "all Greenwich," says Lord Herbert, " did not, on that day, contain a daintier dish of white bait than the Lady of Aragon." The royal pair were crowned on the 24th of June, 1509, being exactly three weeks after marriage, up to which period, at least, there was no indication of that Bluebeardism which subsequently broke out with so much fury in the royal character. Henry had on his accession thrown himself into the arms of his grandmother, the old Countess of Kichmond, upon whose advice he CiiAl*. II. J EXECUTION OF E3IPSON AND DUDLEY. 19 acted in the selection of his ministers. The old lady died in the same month in winch her grandson was married and crowned, at the respect- cL }-$ § rip -o<^-..-J'.7a c -;' v.'- llenrj- VIII. aiid Catherine of Aragon. able age of sixty-eight ; and it is a curious fact that she had been married three times, so that in his multiplicity of wives, Henry VIII. may he said to have simply improved upon the example set him by his grandmother.* The first political act of Henry the Eighth's reign, was to lay the heads of Empsou and Dudley upon the scaffold. These rapacious extortioners had been the tools of his father's avarice, but had contrived to feather their own nests tolerably well; and Henry kept them in prison for the purpose of getting out of them the wealth they had acquired by their rapacity. He detained them in the Tower a whole year before he beheaded them, and continued to squeeze out of them everything they possessed, for he was one of those who never threw an c range away without thoroughly sucking it. Having drained it at length completely dry by about the 17th of August, 1510, he, on that day — to pursue the allegory of the orange — declined allowing them any * Her friend and counsellor, Jack Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, says of her, that " a reddv- witte she had to conceive all thyngs, albeit they were ryghte derke." c 2 20 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. quarter, but sent thern to Tower Hill, where execution was done upon both of them. Henry finding everything going smoothly in England, fell into the common error of those who having every comfort at home must needs look abroad for the elements of discord. He entered into a league against Louis XII. of France, in favour of Pope Julius II. and his father-in-law, Ferdinand of Aragon ; but the latter kept helping himself to large slices of territory, and made usp of his allies for the purpose of furthering his own interests. Henry's troops were therefore compelled to play an ignoble part, being cooped up in a French town, while the other soldiers overran Navarre, and appropriated everything they could lay their hands upon. Amazed at their moderate success upon land they attempted to retrieve themselves by a sea-fight, but the ruler was not then found by which Britannia subsequently learned to rule the waves, and the French fleet escaping into Brest found shelter in their country's bosom. In 1513, Henry being anxious to obtain ascendancy over the seas, appointed Sir Edward Howard, one of the sons of the Earl of Surrey, to accomplish the grand object. Howard was so exceedingly confident of success that he sent a private note requesting the king to come and see how beautifully he (Howard) would " spifflicate'' — for such was the word — the presumptuous enemy. Henry by no means relished the invitation, and replied to it by desiring Howard to " mind his own business" as admiral. This nettled the naval commander, who, during the engagement, jumped into one of the enemy's ships, and could not jump back again; while Sir John Wallop, upon whom he had relied, exhibited little of that usefulness which his name seems to indicate. Poor Howard was, accordingly, killed ; and Henry, flattered by his parasites, came to the resolution that no good would be done till he himself set out for France at the head of an army. In a few days he arrived off Boulogne, where he instructed the artillery to make as much noise as they could with their guns, in order that he might intimidate the foe, and encourage himself by the roaring of his own cannon. His object was undoubtedly to insinuate to the enemy, "We are coming in tremendous force, and so you had better keep out of our way, for fear of accidents." Henry, who had various other great guns on board besides his artillery, was accompanied by Thomas Wolsey, his almoner, lately risen into favour, together with the celebrated Bishop Fox, and a number of courtiers. He passed his time very pleasantly at Calais for about three months, when he heard that the celebrated Bayard — the chevalier sans peur et sans reproche — was moving forward. The English king bounded on to his horse with the elasticity of Indian rubber, and advanced at the head of fifteen thousand men — Bishop Fox, with characteristic cunning, keeping in the rear, and Wolsey following the Fox at a prudent distance. Twelve hundred French approached under the cover of a regular CHAP. ii.] HENEY A'l BOULOGNE. English fog, which with a most anti-national spirit favoured the enemies of the country to which it owed its origin. Bayard would have com menced an attack, but he was overruled by some of his companions ; and Heniy, thinking the foe afraid to "come on,*' sat himself down in a pavilion made of silk damask, foolishly believing that the art of the upholsterer could uphold the dignity of a sovereign. Thus he sat, like the proprietor of a gingerbread stall at a fair, until a terrific shower came on, and the silk streamers were streaming with Henry's Tent. wet, and the satin chairs could no longer be sat-in with comfort or convenience. The tent was turned, literally, inside out by the wind, like an umbrella in a storm, and Henry was' glad to exchange his gaudy booth for a substantial wooden caravan, that was speedily knocked together for his reception. Though the two armies did not fight they commenced operations by mining and countermining, but instead of making receptacles for gunpowder they were only making gutters for the rain, which took advantage of every opening. The Count of Angouleme (afterwards Francis I.) now arrived at head quarters, and scoured the country, which he was the better able to do from the quantity of water which had fallen on many parts of it V>2 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. Henry now received a visit from the Emperor Maximilian, and tho English king made the most magnificent preparations for the interview, he equipped himself and some of his nobles in gold and silver tissue — though it is said the latter wore a tissue of falsehoods, for their finery was all sham — and he borrowed every bit of jewellery in his camp for his own personal bedizenment. He had a garniture of garnets in his hat, and even his watch, a tremendous turnip, had a diamond, weighing several carats, on its face, while a magnificent ruby matched with the rubicundity of his forehead, over which the gem was gracefully disposed. The nobles were sprinkled all over with paste, and looked effective enough at the price which Henry, had given for their embellishment. Maximilian, who was in mourning, presented a dismal contrast to all this finery, for he wore nothing bat a suit of serge, which, however, turned out far more serviceable than the fancy costume of Henry and his courtiers. The rain came on so furiously that unless the silks were washing silks they must have been fearfully damaged by the wet, while the running of the hues one into the other caused Henry's party to come off with — in one sense — flying colours. It was at length determined to make an attack upon the French, and the Emperor Maximilian having got his old serge doublet trimmed up with a red cross, and pinned an artificial flower iu his hat, directed the operations of the English. The French cavalry began pretty well ; but whether Maximilian looked so great a Guy as to terrify the horses, or through any other cause, it is certain that a panic ran through the ranks, and they commenced a retreat at full gallop, using their spurs with tremendous vehemence. One of the fugitives, a venerable Marshal, broke his baton in beating a retreat over the back of his charger ; and Bayard, who had refused to run, seeing the baton of his comrade broken, exclaimed, " Ha ! he has cut his stick !" which afterwards became a bye-word to describe the act of a fugitive. The illustrious Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche became a prisoner, but thoroughly enjoyed the joke of his countrymen having run away, and laughingly called it the battle of the spurs, from the energy with which they had plunged their rowels into the flanks of their chargers. A meeting between Bayard, Maximilian, and Henry, has been described very graphically in the Histoire de Bon Chevalier ;* and it appears from this authority that the two latter bantered their prisoner in a somewhat uncourteous manner. Bayard contended that he had be- come captive by a voluntary surrender ; upon which the emperor and the king burst out into a fit of rude laughter, as if they would have said, " That's a capital joke ;" but Bayard protested that he might have got away had he chosen to run for it. They only replied to him by say- ing "Well, well, my fine fellow, we Ve got you, and it matters little whether you took yourself into custody or how else you came here ; but here you unquestionably are, and there s an end of the discussion." After taking Tournay, where he held a number of tournaments, and * Vol. ii., p;iOoK V He was, in fact, dismissed with an entire earful of fleas, of which Henry had always an abundance on hand for unwelcome visitors. Henry had now become, literally, the greatest monarch that ever sat upon the throne, for he had increased awfully in size, and become irritable at the same time, so that the task of getting round him was, in every sense, extremely difficult. Had there been a prize monarch show, open to the whole world, he must have carried off the palm, for he was too fat to lie down, lest no power should be able to get him up again. It is true he had been born to greatness, but he also had greatness thrust upon him — some say by over-feeding — to such an extent that he was obliged to be wheeled about, on account of his very unwieldiness. It might have been supposed that Henry would have begun to soften under all these circumstances ; but he exhibited no tendency to melt, for he continued his cruelties in burning those whom he chose to denounce as heretics. It is disgraceful to the ecclesiastical character of the age, that the church party that happened to be in power sanctioned the cruelties practised towards the party that happened to be out, and it was said, at the time, that the fires of Smithfield were always being stirred by some high clerical dignitary, who might be considered the " holy poker " of the period. The prospect of a speedy vacancy on the throne, created a rush of candidates, who commenced literally cutting each others' throats — a desperate game, in which the Howards and Hertfords made themselves very conspicuous. Young Howard, Earl of Surrey, used to sneer at Hertford, who had been recently ennobled, as a "new man," and Hertford would retort unfeelingly upon Howard's father, the Duke of Norfolk, by saying " it was better to be a new man than an old sinner." The Norfolk family got the worst of it, for Norfolk and Surrey were taken to the Tower on the 12th of December, 1546, on the frivolous charge of having quartered with their own arms the arms of Edward the Confessor. Had they gone so far as to use these arms upon a seal, it ought not to have sealed their doom, nor stamped them as traitors ; but the frivolousness of the charge marks the tyrannical character of the period. Commissioners were sent to their country seat at Kuming Hall, to ransack the drawers, pillage the plate-chest, and send the proceeds to the king ; but the people intrusted with the job, either found or pretended to find scarcely anything. They wrote to the king, telling him that the jewels were all either sold or in pawn ; but as the tickets never came to hand, it is possible that the searchers were practising a sort of duplicate rascality. They forwarded to the king a box of beads and buttons ; but though every bead was glass, Henry does not appear to have seen through it. Surrey was tried at Guildhall for having quartered the royal arms with his own, and on his defence he observed, " By my troth, mine enemies will not allow m*> any quarter whatever." He was found guilty, of course, and beheaded on the 19th of January, 1547, and his father's execution had been set down in the peremptory paper for the 28th of the same month, when CHAP. V.] DEATH OF HEXRY VIII. 77 the proceedings were suddenly stayed just before execution, by the death of Henry. The tyrant, who had been getting physically as well as morally worse and worse, clung to life with such desperate tenacity, that is a sure sign of there being good reason for dreading death in those among whom, after a certain age, such a cowardly fear is manifest. He would often impiously threaten that "he would outlive all the younger people about him yet;" and though his time was evidently not far off, he would not bear to be told of his true condition. Instead of repenting of his past life, he devoted the wretched remnant of his existence to doing all the mischief he could, and venting his malice to the fullest extent that his now failing strength would admit of. Nobody dared muster resolution to tell the unhappy old brute that he must very speedily die, until Sir Anthony Denny, a knight who shared our friend Drummond's * aversion to humbug of any description, boldly told old Harry that he was on the point of visiting his redoubtable namesake. Finding all chance of escape cut off, he began confessing his sins ; but it was rather too late, for, had his repentance been sincere, the catalogue of his crimes was far too voluminous to allow of his getting through one half of it before his dissolution. He had been in the habit of adjourning that court of conscience existing in his as well as in every man's breast, and he always postponed it sine die ; but when the time to die actually came, or the die was really cast, it was rather late to move for a new trial. Henry died on the 39th of January, 1547, in the fifty-sixth 3 r ear of his age, the thirty-eighth of his reign, and at least the forty-first of his selfishness, baseness, and brutality. He had been married six times, having divorced two of his wives, beheaded two more, and left one a widow. This leaves one more — Jane Seymour — still unaccounted for ; and indeed her death was the most wonderful of all, because it was natural. He left behind him three children : but he did not care a pin's head, or even — to name an article of smaller importance to him — a wife's head, for any one of them. Such a very bad man was sure to be a very bad father, and he had declared two of his children illegitimate, for it was the delight of this monster to depreciate his own offspring in the eyes of the world as much as possible. His religious reforms, however wholesome in their results, were brutal in then* execution and base in their origin. His insincerity may be gathered from the fact that he appointed masses to be said for his own soul, though he had burnt many persons for popery ; and he seemed to think that, by taking up two creeds at once on Ins death-bed, he could make up for the utter irreligion of his past existence. He is said to have contributed to the cause of enlightenment, and so perhaps he did with all his blackness, as the coal contributes to the gas ; and never was a bit of Wall's End half so hard, or a tenth part so black, as the heart of * "Drummond is so averse to lmrabug of any description.'" — Vide Tuou. VOL. II. G 78 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V~ this despicable sovereign. He never had a friend; but he was surrounded by sycophants, whom, one after the other, he atrociously sacrificed. Cranmer being a man of superior mind, exercised an influence over him, and was sent for to his death-bed, when he pressed the prelate 's- hand ; but whether the pressure arose from cramp or conscience, rheum- atism or remorse, penitence or " pins and needles," must be considered a question to which we will not hazard an answer. We regret that we have been unable to adhere to the excellent motto, de morUiis nil nisi bonum y in this case ; but Henry was such a decided malum in se, that mischief was bred in the bone, and the nil nisi bonnm becomes impossible. Learning certainly advanced in this reign, and Henry himself affected- authorship ; but every literary man, from the highest flyer in the realms of fancy to the humblest historian of last night's fire or yesterday's police, will be honestly ashamed of his royal fellow-craftsman. Several colleges and schools were founded in this reign, among the principal of which were Christ Church at Oxford, Trinity at Cambridge, and St. Paul's in London. Here it was that the lowly Lily, of Lily's grammar notoriety, first raised his humble head as the head master of the school; and, though there is something lack-a-daisy-cal in Lily's style, his grammar was at one time the first round of the ladder by which every lad climbed the heights of classical instruction. It may be interesting to the gastronomic reader to be informed that salads and turnips first came into use, with other roots, towards which the people had shown until then a rooted antipathy. They swallowed spinach without any gammon, and even the carrot, that had formerly stuck in their throat as if they feared it would injure the carotid artery, was consumed with alacrity ; and those who had disdained the most delicious of green food, by courageously exclaiming " Come, let us try it," are supposed by some — though we disclaim the monstrous idea — to have given its name to the lettuce. The cultivation of hops came as if with a hop, skip, and jump across from Flanders, and the trade in wool was brought, under the fostering patronage of Wolsey, to a state of some prosperity. With the exception of the burning of monasteries and the murder of his wives, there was little to render the reign of Henry remarkable, beyond, perhaps, the invention of beef-eaters. The word beef-eater is known to be a corruption of buffetier, and indeed there was corruption, to a certain extent, in everything connected with this detestable tyrant. It is said they were called buffetiers from attending at the buffets, or side-board of plate, but it is far more likely that they got the name from the buffeting to which every servant of the royal ruffian must have been occasionally liable. The neck was so often in danger, that any menial of the malignant monarch might be expected to ruff it in the best way he could, and hence the enormous ruffs, which are con- spicuous to this day, round the chins of the beef-eaters. The looseness of their habits may be considered characteristic of the court to which CHAP. V.] PINS INVENTED IN HENRY VIII.'S HEIGN. 79 these functionaries were attached, though it has been said by some authorities tbat the beef-eaters were puffed and padded out to an enormous extent, in order that the monster Henry might not appear conspicuous The reign of Henry was also remarkable for the invention of pins, to which somebody had given his own head with intense earnestness. The sharpness of the English had not yet reached so fine a point as to have led to the discovery of the needle, which was doubtless suggested by the pin, to some one who had an eye for improvement. The thimble is a still later introduction, the merit of which is considerable; for though at the present day every sempstress has the thimble at her finger ends, there was a time when no one had thought of this very simple but necessary appendage to the ladies' work-table. If the reign of Henry had never been devoted to anything more objectionable than the discovery of pins and needles we should have had little reason to com- plain, for a few pricks of conscience, no matter whence they emanated, would have done him good ; but the scissors for cutting the thread of existence formed the instruments chiefly in use during this cruel and most disastrous reign. Shai'ng cf Heavy VIII. 80 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK \. CHAPTER THE SIXTH. EDWARD THE SIXTH. n enormous weight was taken off the whole country when the late lump of ob- esity was removed from the throne; but, shameful to relate, the first use the nation made of the power of breathing freely was to give a few puffs to the departed tyrant. The chancellor Wriothesley an- nounced the king's death to the House of Lords in tears, and there is said to have been much weeping ; but there are tears of joy as well as of sorrow, and the former must have been the quality of the brine in which the memory of Henry was preserved for a few days by his people. The lamentations, whether sincere or hypocritical, were very soon exchanged for joy at the accession of Edward the Sixth, who was only in his tenth year when he woke one morning and found the crown of England over his ordinary nightcap. To rub his eyes and ask " What 's this ? " were the work of an instant, when, taking off the bauble, drawing aside his curtains, and holding the article up to the light, he at once recognised the royal diadem. Young Edward was what we should call a little forward chit had he been a common lad, but being a king we must at once accept him as an. infant prodigy. He had learnt several tongues from Mr. Cheke, and had been a pupil of Sir Anthony Cook; but many of such cooks would have spoiled the best "broth of a boy," for Sir Anthony was a pedant, " with five learned daughters " — being equivalent to a couple of pair of blue stockings, and an odd one over Henry, in his reluctance to leave to his son what he could no longer hold himself, had fettered the monarchy as much as he could by his will, which was, however, soon treated with the contempt it merited. He had appointed sixteen executors and twelve councillors, but all to no purpose ; for all power was placed in the hands of the young king's uncle Hertford, who was created Duke of Somerset. The vaulting CHAP. VI. J THE PROTECTOR SOMERSET. 81 ambition of this man, who turned Somersets over every obstacle that fell in his -way, rendered his new title very appropriate. He was invested with the office of Protector, and he very soon set to work, but, still true to his name of Somerset, he went head over heels into a war with Scotland. The object of this proceeding was to demand the hand of Mary, Queen of Scots, for the child Edward ; but the idea of a person coming to make love with a fleet of sixty sail, and an army of 18,000 men, was a little trop fort to suit the taste of the Caledonians. They placed a ban upon the marriage, which was equivalent to forbidding the banns, and suggested, that if the young gentleman wanted to come courting, he had better come by himself to pay his addresses. After a little negotiation, which ended in nothing, a battle ensued, which is famous as the Battle of Pinkey, where the combatants pinked each other off most cruelly with the points of their swords ; and it is added by the inveterate Strype — who deserves two thousand stripes, at least, for this offence — that " on this field, which was within half a mile of Mus- selburgh, the soldiers on both sides strained every muscle ' f The English Arclier of the l'erio 5, from such a rare old print. 62 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V English archers sent their arrows from their bows with destructive effect ; and looking, as they did, like so many Cupids in a valentine, it must he confessed that that mode of warfare was, at least, appropriate to a war undertaken in the cause of Hymen. The Scotch were sadly defeated, but they still refused to give up their little queen to the young fellow who sought her hand through his subjects' arms, and she was accordingly sent to finish her education in France ; where, though only six years of age, she was betrothed to the Dauphin. Somerset, instead of following up his successes, made the best of his way home ; for he heard that his own brother, Sir Thomas Seymour, the Lord High Admiral, who had been created also Baron Seymour of Sedley, was making himself a great deal too agreeable to the royal ladies in England. Old Kitty Parr, Henry's widew, was so much taken with Tom Seymour's attentions, that she fell at once into his arms, and became his wife ; but poor Parr soon fell to a discount in the eyes of her husband, who had become enamoured of the young Princess Eliza- beth. The unhappy old Parr swallowed many a bitter pill at this time, until death put an end to her annoyances. Admiral Seymour was now free to pay his addresses to Elizabeth, but it would seem that he was not more free than welcome, for even during the life of her mother-in. law, that young lady had afforded him every encouragement. In order to stop his flirtations, which were now becoming serious, he was clapped in the Tower, but his enemies were considerate enough to send a bishop to him to preach patience, and as Ely was selected, who prosed exceedingly, the preaching was accompanied by a practical lesson in patience, with which it is to be hoped that Seymour was sufficiently edified. He was accused of treason, and at a council the boy Edward, who had no doubt been crammed for the occasion, deli- vered an elaborate judgment, which his parasites puffed as extempo- raneous. He regretted being obliged to sacrifice his uncle Seymour to the common weal — a weal that has brought woe to many, and to which the wheel of fortune bears, except in its orthography, a wondrous similarity. Seymour was executed on Wednesday, the 20th of March, 1549, and the last use he made of his head before it was struck off was to shake it, and observe that " 'pon his honour, if he had been guilty of any treason against the king it was quite unintentional." The country was about this time agitated by one of those fits of general discontent which prevail every now and then among the lower orders of society. As usual there was a good deal of reason mixed with a large amount of unreasonableness in their complaints, and the customary feeling of " not knowing exactly what they really wanted," became alarmingly general. Some cried for this, another for that, and another for t'other, while an almost universal shout for the privilege of ruling themselves was accompanied by a clear manifestation of an utter want of self-control on the part of the people. Their self-styled friends were of course busy in goading them on to acts of violence, and the protector himself, instead of repressing tumult first, and pardoning -CHAP. VI. J ARREST AND PARDON OF SOMERSET 83 it afterwards, pursued the opposite course, which only had the effect of clearing off old scores, that new might be run up with fresh alacrity. One of the most prominent ringleaders in the revolt was a tanner of Norfolk, named Robert Ket, of whom it was vulgarly said, that such a bob was as good as two tanners ; " and hence perhaps," says my Lord Herbert, or some one else, " two tanners or sixpences came to be called in the vernacular equivalent to one bob, or a shilling." Ket had been cruelly provoked in having the mob set upon one of his inclosures by a gentleman who had suffered from the destruction of one of his own hedges ; but the tanner retaliated by administering such a leathering to 3 lis assailants as they would have remembered to this hour had any one of them been left alive to indulge in such reminiscences. It was found necessary to send over to Scotland for Warwick to go and settle Ket, which was very speedily done, for finding himself unable to keep upon his legs, he laid down his arms, after having run for his life, and crept into a barn among some com to avoid an immediate thrashing. He was taken to Norwich, and lodged in the castle, whence he wrote to a friend, saying, " I shall be hanging out for the present at the above address ; " and his words were soon verified, for he was hanged out on the top of the building a few days afterwards. Poor Somerset was now about to take the most formidable somerset in the whole of his career, namely, a fall from the extreme of power to the depths of disgrace, chiefly by the rivalry of Warwick. The pro- jector found it high time to think about protecting himself, and tried to muster his friends, to many of whom he wrote ; but verbal answers of "Not at home," "Mr. So and So will send," and similar evasive replies, convinced poor Somerset that there was very little hope for him. In the meantime Warwick and party were meeting daily at Ely Place, Holborn, where they were settling in that very legal neighbourhood the draft of a set of charges against the protector, who was accused among other things of having pulled down a church in the Strand to build Somerset House, and having spent in bricks and mortar the money intrusted him to keep up the wooden walls of old England, by paying the sailors and soldiers their respective salaries A bill of pains and penalties was issued from Ely Place, which is to this day famous for its art in making out bills, and twenty-eight charges w r ere brought against Somerset, who thought it better to confess every one of them, on a promise that he should be leniently dealt with. This leniency consisted in taking away almost everything he possessed, which caused him to remonstrate on the heaviness of the fine ; but on being told snappishly he might consider himself lucky in having got off with his life, he shrunk back in an attitude of the utmost humility. He was set at liberty and pardoned, but we shall have him at mischief and in trouble again before the end of this chapter. Though a mere child was on the throne, the atrocities committed at Smithfield, in the burning of what were called heretics, went on a.s briskly as ever, the fires being stirred by Cranmer and Ridley, in the 84 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V, most savage manner. Mary, the kings eldest sister, gave considerable trouble, by insisting on the celebration of mass in her own household ; and, though told by the council she musn't, the truly feminine reply "that she should see if she shouldn't," and " that she would though — they'd see if she wouldn't," was all that she condescended to say in answer to the requisition. Somerset since his liberation had been still hanging about the court, and had apparently become reconciled to "Warwick, whose eldest son, Lord Lisle, had been married to Lady Ann, one of the daughters of the ex-protector. Nevertheless, on Friday the 16th of October, 1551, Somerset found himself once more in the " lock-up," on a charge of treason. He was accused of an intention to run about London crying- out ' ; Liberty ! Liberty ! " and if that had not succeeded he was to have gone to the Isle of Wight to try on the same, game in that direction. If that had not succeeded there is no knowing what he would have done ; but at all events, orders were sent to the Tower to set a watch upon the great seal, because Somerset wanted to run away with it. If he had made off with the seal he might, perhaps, have taken the watch also ; but this did not occur to the council. His trial took place at West- minster, on the 1st of December, 1551, at the sittings after Michaelmas term, when he denied everything, and was found guilty of just enough to get a judgment — with speedy execution — against him. His politeness was quite marvellous, for he thanked the lords who had tried him, and he threw as much grace as he could into the bow he was compelled to make on submitting his head to the axe of the executioner. " This," says Fox, on the authority of a nobleman w 7 ho w T as present, " came off on Friday, the 22nd of January, 1552," and it is a curious fact, that of every execution that occurred in his reign the boy king had preserved the heads in his private journal. Warwick, who had got himself promoted to the dukedom of Northum- berland, seemed desirous of making government a business for the benefit of himself and family. He took the motto of " anything for peace and quiet," though he had blamed his predecessor, Somerset, for having done the same thing, and he bought off the hostility of France. and Scotland by selling Boulogne regularly up, placing a carpet on the light-house, dividing the upper and lower town into lots, declaring that he wanted money down on the nail, and to hit the right one on the head he must resort to the hammer. He made excellent marriages for his children, and allied his son, Guilford Dudley, with the royal family of France, by wedding him to Lady Jane Grey, a daughter of a son of the old original Mary Tudor of France, to whose descendants the English crown would fall in the event of a failure of a more direct succession. The young king Edward, who had not yet passed through the ordinary routine of infantine complaints, now took the measles — or rather the measles took him — and he had scarcely recovered from this complaint, when the small-pox placed him under indentures which seemed much too strong to be cancelled within any reasonable period. CHAP. YI.J ILLNESS OF EDWARD VI. He was serving his time to this malady, when another latent illness that had hitherto been playing at hide and seek, set up a cry of " whoop," and his youthful majesty was in for the whooping-cough. Northumberland, taking advantage of the king's weak state, advised him not to leave the crown to his big and bigoted sister Mary. " True," said Edward, " but how about poor little Bet ?" " Why she," replied the protector, "is very little better." With such weak sophistry as this, he persuaded the poor invalid king to draw up a settlement of the crown on Lady Jane Grey, and the judges, with all the law officers, were summoned to approve the document. Sir Edward Montague, the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, with Sir Thomas Bromley, one of his puisnes, came accompanied by the attorney and solicitor-generals, to say that the deed was illegal, and that they, one and all, would have nothing to do with it. Upon this, Northumberland rushed into the The JUuke ,^f Northumberland offers to fight any one of them. -86 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK V. room, called Montague a traitor,* banged the door, threatened to bang the judges, and offered to fight in his shirt-sleeves any one of them. Pie declared that if they could not see the deed in its proper light, he would pretty soon beat it into them, and he was squaring up to the poor puisne with an evident intention for mischief, when the judges offered to take the papers home and reconsider them. The next day, they were again sent for, when, finding Northumberland as pugilistic as ever, and hand' in glove with the king, the chief justice consented to the deed ; and the puisne, ou being approached by Northum- berland in an attitude of menace, was glad to stammer out, " I am of the same opinion," as rapidly as he could give the words their utterance. The judges were promised that the deeds should be ratified by parlia- ment, and that they should be pardoned, if they had done wrong ; for otherwise, from the fists of Northumberland to the hands of the legislature, might have been analogous to getting out of the frying-pan into the fire. All this row in the palace of an invalid produced the effect that might have been expected, for the poor boy died a day or two afterwards. A pugilistic encounter between a duke and a judge, was somewhat too much of a stimulant for a child in Edward's weak state, and his physicians having given him up, lie was turned over to the treatment of a female quack, who finished him. She did the business on the 6th of July, 1533, when he sunk under a complication of evils, among which his medical attendant was undoubtedly the greatest. He had lived fifteen years, eight months, and twenty-two days, having been upon the throne six years and a half; affording a curious instance of a reign, in which the part of the sovereign was so insignificant that it might just as well have been omitted. This little fellow has been greatly eulogised for his talents, as shown in his journal ; but on looking at this juvenile production we regret to say that we could not go the length of our old friend the evening paper, in stating that it is "a very remarkable production." He mentions certain dinners and suppers with evident gusto, and alludes to the return of the sweating sickness, but misses the obvious point, that he hopes it will not prove so perverse as to begin sweating sovereigns. Some of the his- torians of his reign allege that he had studied the business of the mint ; but it may fairly be replied, that merely looking at the process of coining does not make a sovereign. He is said to have known all the harbours in Scotland, England, and France, with the amount of water they were capable of containing — and though this may prove the depth of his research, it is no particular mark of his ability. He took notes of everything he heard ; but as sovereigns hear a great deal of thorough trash, the collection must have been rather tedious and elaborate than instructive or entertaining. If we are to judge young Edward by the laws passed in his reign, * Burnet. CHAP. VI..] CHARACTER OF EDWARD VI. 87 there is no great deal to be said for him. Beggars were declared to be the slaves of those who apprehended them, and iron collars were per- mitted to be put about the throats of the latter; but this was too much for the pride of the stiff-necked people of England, and the law was repealed, within two or three years of its having been enacted. There is no doubt that he was a most amiable little fellow, as docile as a lamb, if indeed his gentleness did not amount to absolute sheepish- ness. His flatterers say that he could speak five languages, and had a taste for music and physic, in the latter of which predilections we are quite unable to sympathise. We should have said he was a nice child but for the peculiarity to which we have just made allusion. As a quiet young gentleman at a preparatory school kept by ladies, Master Edward Tudor w r ould have done credit no doubt to the establishment in which he might have been placed ; but we would as soon select a sovereign from a seminary at once, and take him from the bread-and-butter to the throne, as see the spirit of the monarchy diluted in milk-and-water, and the sceptre dwindling down into a king's pattern spoon 88 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. f ROOK V. CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. MARY. Northumberland having got the deed appointing his daughter- in- law the Lady Jane Grey to the throne, began to get rather nervous as to the effect of making known to the people such a preposterous arrangement. He was afraid to advertise the kings death, and walked about the palace at Greenwich, biting his nails, thinking what he should do, or shut himself up in a small apartment, which, from the colour of its walls, was known as the brown study. He subsequently sent for the Lord Mayor of London, half-a-dozen aldermen, and a dozen citizens, to whom he communicated, one at a time, but always in a whisper, the decease of the sovereign. " Mind you don't tell," was the precautionary observation he made to each; and a will was then produced, in which the boy-king had appointed Lady Jane Grey his successor. The Cockneys expressed their readiness to swear allegiance to the lady, if it was "all right;" and Northumberland pledged his honour as a peer, that he would make it so. This happened on the 1st of July, and two days afterwards Lady Jane was forwarded by water to the Tower of London, some of the corporation, who had been gained over by her father-in-law, rowing in the same boat with her. After her safe arrival, the death of King Edward was publicly announced, and Lady Jane Grey was proclaimed amid very slight applause, accompanied by murmurs of the name of Mary. Poor Jane was sadly genee by the position into which she was thrust, for she was a quiet, unaspiring, lovely creature, whose only fault seems to have been that she read Plato in the original Greek,* which appears to us the very alpha and omega of absurdity. In the meantime, Mary, whose sanguinary disposition, and love for cutting off heads in her father's style, fully entitled her to the name of the " chip of the old block,'' was raising friends to resist the views of Northumberland. Mary, whose catholic predilections were known, promised those who -were favourable to the Reformation, that she would make no change in the religion fixed by Edward; and thus, though she was understood to have mass celebrated at home, she silenced the scruples of the masses. The proclamation of Lady Jane Grey had been contrived at a packed meeting of the council, on the 10th of July; but it is said that a vintner's lad — or more probably a boy going round with the beer —entered a protest — possibly through an open window — to the arrange- ment. A policeman was instantly sent after him, and he was at once get in the pillory, where the tops of his ears paid the penalty of a juvenile offence, which he would not have committed had he arrived at the years * Roger Ascham. CHAP. VII.] BESIGNATION OF LADY JANE GREY. 89 of discretion. This little incident, trifling as it was, showed that there was a feeling abroad unfavourable to the elevation of Jane ; for the pot- boy is always an authority on the subject of public measures. His opportunities of listening to the discussions of the people, are great; and though he may hear much frothy declamation, as well as witness a vast tendency to half-and-half principles, in the course of his experience, he is nevertheless capable of judging, to a considerable extent, of the feelings of the multitude. Northumberland, seeing that opinion was taking a powerful turn in Mary's favour, became fearfully perplexed, and hearing that an adverse force was being collected, came to the resolution that " somebody " must go and oppose the enemy. Who that " somebody " should be, was a very puzzling question, for Northumberland did not like the business himself, and was afraid to trust any one else with a matter of so much consequence. At length he offered the task to Suffolk, the father of Lady Jane Grey ; but that young lady began to ciy very bitterly at the idea of her poor papa, who was " wholly unaccustomed to public fighting,''' being sent into battle. Whether it was an arrangement between father and daughter it is impossible to say ; but it is well known that Suffolk was not over valorous, and even if he did not " cry off," Lady Jane did so for him, by keeping up a constant cry until they found her father a sub- stitute. Northumberland, perceiving that Suffolk had made up his mind not to go, was looking about him for somebody else, when a general interrogatory of, " Why don't he go himself?" seemed to suggest itself to the council. With a reluctance that indicated the feeling in his mind of " Well, I suppose I must," he started off with a small army, which experienced a cold reception in its progress, and the silence of the spectators giving them the air of mutes, invested with the dolefulness of a funeral procession the march of the troops as far as Bury. Northumberland had no sooner turned his back on the council than they turned their backs on him, by proclaiming Mary as Queen of England ; and on a party being sent to besiege the Tower, Lady Jane Grey, by the advice of her own papa, resigned all pretensions to the sovereign dignity. Suffolk not only evinced no disposition to defend his daughter's claims, but turning his sword into a steel-pen, hastened to sign the decrees that were being issued in the name of Mary. Poor Northumberland, who was waiting for succours which never came, and who was accordingly being victimised by the expenses of his soldiers, who acted as suckers of a different kind, heard of what had taken place in London, and having fallen back upon Cambridge, sent for a herald, or town crier, with whom he bargained for the proclamation of Mary, at the market-place. It has been atrociously hinted, by an old offender, whose family we spare by the suppression of his name, that Northumberland took this humiliating course in the hope that Mary would be molli-fied. He had scarcely finished the proceeding we have described, when he received a sharp letter from the council in London, desiring him to disband his army ; but looking round, he perceived that it UU COMIC H1STOHY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. had disbanded itself, for all his followers had deserted him. They had, in fact, gone over to the other side, with a canting recantation of their opinions, and a whining declaration that they never should have thought of taking arms against their lawful queen " had not Northumberland made them do it." The unhappy duke himself was hanging about the streets of Cambridge the next day, not knowing whether to give himself up or "run for it," when the Earl of Arundel, coming up and tapping him on the shoulder, observed " You must come along with me — you 're my prisoner." Northumberland burst into a loud bellow, fell upon his knees, and begged for his life ; but Arundel, contemptuously desiring an underling to " bring him along," lodged the captive in the Tower. Poor Lady Jane, whose representations of the part of queen had been limited to ten days, was already locked up, and, in fact, the state prison was full to overflowing of her unfortunate partisans. Her father, the Duke of Suffolk, obtained his pardon on the 31st of July, through Mary, who, on the 3rd of August, 1553, made her triumphant entry into London, accompanied by her little sister, afterwards the great Elizabeth. On the 18th of the same month, Northumberland, his eldest son John, Earl of Warwick, and two or three others, were brought to trial at Westminster Hall, when they pleaded the general issue; but the chief prisoner, finding it useless to throw himself upon the country, threw himself on the floor, asking, in the most abject terms, for mercy. This prostration was of no avail, for sentence of death was speedily passed upon him ; the sycophant Suffolk (Lady Jane Grey's own father) being one of the judges who presided at the trial. The Earl of Warwick behaved with more spirit than his parent, and upon hearing that he was to die as a traitor, which would involve the confiscation of his property, he coolly requested that his unfortunate creditors might not be victimised. "Don't pay me off, without paying them off, also," were the chivalrous words of the young nobleman. The Marquis of Northampton, when called upon for his defence, said that he had been out with the hounds and engaged in field sports while the conspiracy was going on, so that he had been quite upon another scent ; but this availed nothing for the sly old fox, who was immediately found guilty. Sir John Gates, as well as Sir Henry Gates, both of whom were fearfully unhinged, were also condemned ; and Northumberland made a long penitential speech from the scaffold, when, as if caught by the example, Sir John Gates opened out with extraordinary eloquence. Poor Gates having been brought to a close by a hint from the headsman, the axe and the curtain fell together upon this fearful tragedy. Mary soon began to show her papist predilections, and after making Gardiner Chancellor, she proceeded to establish - a most rigorous censorship of the press, like a person who, having evil designs, is anxious to get the watch-dog muzzled as speedily as possible. She prohibited all persons from speaking against her, for a time ; but putting a prohi bition on the press is like throwing coals on a volcano, which get3 CHAP. VU.J CORONATION OF MARY. I'l smothered for a while, but is sure to burst out with a stronger light on account of the attempt to extinguish it. The fanaticism of Mary is said to have been caused by the wretched- ness of her early life, during which a brutal father was continually threatening to chop off her head or make a nun of her. That unnatural parent was one of those monsters to whom it seems marvellous that children were ever given at all, for he could never appreciate the blessings they were calculated to afford, and he was for ever engaged in trying to mar their happiness. The stock from which she came was, however, so abominably bad, that there is nothing surprising in her cruelty; for when children happen to go wrong, it may be taken as a general rule that they get from their birth one half, and from their bringing-up the other half, of their iniquity. Mary, who proved herself a worthy descendant of a most unworthy sire, and turned the state prisons at once into warehouses for storing up the fuel of future martyrdom. Cranmer, Latimer, and others were stowed away with this view, while the queen herself prepared for a coronation of unusual pageantry at Westminster. The calm and philosophical Anne of Cleves — who will be remembered as the queen that Henry refused to have at any price — was a visitor to the show, and came to it in the same '"fly" with the Princess Elizabeth- The latter, as sister to the queen, carried the crown in the procession, and was complaining of its weight in a whisper — -for she was always flirting with somebody — to Noailles, the French ambassador. " Be patient," replied the polite Parisian ; " it will be lighter when it is on your head ; " and an interchange of winks proved that the allusion was understood by the future sovereign of England A parliament was assembled in less than a week, and the legislature that had lately been in favour of protestantism to the fullest extent, now relapsed into all the forms of popery. Both Houses opened with the celebration of mass, and Taylor, the Bishop of Lincoln, who objected to such flagrant apostacy, was fairly kicked down stairs, like a bill thrown out of the Upper House, where tergiversation was the order of the day throughout the session. Another bishop, of the name of Harley, the low comedian of the epis- copal bench, whom Burnet calls a " drie dogge," was also ejected for exhibiting the same honourable consistency ; but Harley restored the good nature of the House by throwing a little humour into his forced exit. A convocation of the clergy was shortly afterwards held, to get rid of the Preformation as far as it had gone, and bring Catholicism back again. Some of the bishops conformed to the new regulations laid down for them ; but some few, who happened to be married, found that though shaking off an opinion was easy enough, getting rid of a wife was far more difficult. The celibacy of the clergy was, of course, insisted upon ; but Hoi gate, Archbishop of York, however happy he might have been never to have linked himself with Mrs. Holgate at all, soon discovered that a divorce from that good lady was not so easily accomplished as talked about. Several bishops who had got entangled in the connubial 92 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. noose, were nearly finding it a halter for their necks, inasmuch as they were all deprived of their sees, and some even of their lives, for having committed the offence of matrimony. An attempt was made to save them, by urging that the punishment accompanied the crime, and that ijb was hard to make those suffer who must already have endured a great deal ; but the plea was not allowed to prevail, and deprivation was in flicted on all as an equal punishment. Several of the bishops conformed; and it has been said, in extenuation of their weakness, that their insin- cerity was not in changing from protestant to catholic, but had consisted in their originally veering round against their wills from catholic to to protestant. It matters little whether, in turning from popery to the '.Reformation, they had been robbing Peter to pay Paul, or whether, in changing once more, they were guilty of some additional cheat, in order to restore what they had taken from Peter ; but it is not to be denied, that on one occasion or the other they had been guilty of gross apostacy. On the 13th of November, 1553, Cranmer, Lady Jane Grey, her husband Lord Guildford Dudley, and his brother Ambrose Dudley, were all condemned to die as traitors, by judges many of whom were the very people who had set on poor Jane to play the game, in which she had never taken the smallest interest. After sentence had been passed, execution was stayed. But Cranmer had no sooner been let out upon the charge of treason, than it was found on searching the office there was something else against him, whereupon he was taken and locked up once more upon an accusation of heresy. Lady Jane Grey had the freedom of the Tower presented to her in the shape of a permission to walk about the gardens, while Guildford Dudley and Ambrose were granted a few moderate indulgences — amounting, perhaps, to a set of skittles, a bat, trap and ball, or a couple of hockey-sticks. This moderation was, however, accompanied by other acts of cruelty ; and poor Judge Hales, who had really done nothing but refuse to change his religion, was, though he had stoutly defended the title of the queen, thrown into prison. The poor fellow went out of his mind, and though he was liberated, he had got so fearfully impressed with the idea of being burnt, that he thought to make himself fire-proof by running into the water ; but it was so deep, and he stayed there so very long, that he unfortunately drow T ned himself. Mary, who had been disappointed of several husbands — for nobody who saw her would think of having her — now resolved to make use of her position as Queen of England to draw some unhappy victim into a mar- riage. Comparatively old, exceedingly hard, and totally void of all the milk of human kindness, she was naturally very inflammable, and she had already fallen in love with young Ned Courtenay, a son of the Marquis of Exeter ; but the predilection of that young gentleman for her half-sister Elizabeth, had somewhat cooled the ardour of Mary, w T ho found it was useless to set her cap at the young Earl of Devon, which was the title she had restored to the courteous Courtenay. £HAP. VII.] MARRIAGE OF MARY. 93 The project of a marriage continued to nil the head of the queen, hut as it was evident there would he " nobody coming to marry her," and, indeed, "nobody coming to woo," unless she looked out pretty sharply for herself, she threw aside all scruples of delicacy, and began to advertise through the medium of her ambassadors. The Emperor Charles of Spain had been affianced to her thirty years ago, and though she might once have been accustomed to sing " Charlie's my darling," in her youthful days, that prince had, long ago, grown old enough to know better than to marry her. He nevertheless thought she might be a good match for his son Philip, or rather that the latter might be a match for the lady, inasmuch as the Spanish Prince was crafty, cruel, and bigoted Mary made a last effort to get a. husband of her own choice by sending a proposal to Cardinal Pole, who would have nothing to do with her. Thus, even her indelicate eagerness to rush to the pole did not secure her election, and she was obliged to take Philip " for better, for worse," or rather for worse, for want of a better. When the Commons heard of her intention they respectfully recom- mended her to wed an Englishman, but the idea that it was necessary for Mary to " first catch the Englishman " does not seem to have occurred to them. She announced her intention of marrying Philip partly out of old associations, but the oldness of the association was all on her own side, for the gentleman was young in comparison to the lady. It was not to be expected that Philip would make what he might justly have considered an " alarming sacrifice " without some equivalent, and it was agreed that he should have the honour and title of King of England, though he was not to interfere in the government. In case Mary survived him, he was to settle upon her £60,000 a year, but as he always flattered himself that he should, as he said, " see the old girl out," he looked upon this arrangement as merely nominal. The English people had in those days, as they still have in these, an objection to Spanish Marriages, and one Sir Thomas Wyatt, who had been in Spain, gave such a fearful picture of Philip, that the people of Kent, learning to regard him as something between " Old Bogie " and " Spring-heeled Jack," resolved to oppose his landing. Wyatt collected a considerable force at Rochester and marched upon London, when taking the first to the left, then the second to the right, they found themselves masters of Southwark. He had intended to give battle in Bermondsey, and put a cannon at the corner of the street, but it did not go off so well as he expected. In the meantime the queen's forces began pouring upon him some of the juice of the grape, from the Tower, and intimating to his followers that it might affect their heads, he with- drew as far as Kingston. His object was to march upon London by the other road, and he had got about as far as Hammersmith when an accident happened to his largest buss, or blunderbuss — as he called his heaviest gun — and he wasted several hours in getting it, once more, upon its wheels again. By daylight he had got as far as Hyde Park, when he found that the royal forces were in the enclosure of St. James's» vol. II. n 94 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. • BOCK V. waiting to receive him, and having a large reserve in the hollow that now forms the reservoir. The battle commenced with a noisy overture, consisting of the firing of cannons, loaded only with powder, and doing no harm to anybody. Wyatt's followers had dwindled very materially as he came into town ; several of his soldiers having discovered, at Kew, it was not their " cue to fight," and others experiencing, at Turnham Green, sufficient to turn 'em pale, and turn 'em back, at the very thought of meeting the enemy. Wyatt was nevertheless undaunted, and rushed upon the enemy, who, falling quietly back, let him regularly in among the troops, with the- full intention of never letting him out again. Without looking behind , he charged, at full gallop, along Charing Cross, and continuing his furious career up the Strand, pulled up, at last, at Ludgate Hill, which he found closed against him. Finding no sympathy among the citizens he attempted to back out, and had got as far as the Tempte, where, Sir Thomas Wyatt surrendering: to Sir Maurice Berkeley. chap, vii.] wyatt's kebellion. 95 strange to say, his opponents gave him no law, and the unhappy old Pump, being at last caught in Pump Court, surrendered to Sir Maurice Berkeley. Poor Wyatt was soon afterwards condemned to death, and executed, as well as about four hundred of his followers, but several were brought with ropes round their necks before the queen, who permitted them to find in the halter a loop-hole for escape, by an humble prayer for pardon. Mary exceedingly angry at the attempt to shake her throne, vented her animosity on her little sister Elizabeth, who was brought on a litter to London, though she was so ill that the journey might have killed her, had not youth, a good constitution, and some stout porters carried her through the dangerous ordeal. She was accused of having been a party to Wyatt's rebellion, and was taken to the Tower, though not without giving a good deal of trouble to the proper officer, for she insisted on sitting down, every now and then, upon a stone step in the yard, though the rain was falling heavily. Mary, whose reign may be considered as the original "reign of terror," — though the brutality that distinguished it was confined to a few, while in the French edition the whole nation thirsted for blood — who exercised en detail the cruelties that France subsequently practised en gros, sentenced to death, in rapid rotation, all who did not quite agree with her. The unfortunate Lady Jane Grey and her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley, were both executed on the same day, and indeed the victims were so numerous that we should be inclined to say, " for further particulars see small bills," if we thought that any of the true bills found against the parties were still extant. A curious commentary on the value of trial by jury was furnished about this time, by the extraordinary case of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton — the father of Throgmorton Street, and friend of Sir Thomas Wyatt — who after making his defence, obtained, to the surprise of everybody, a verdict of acquittal. Sir Thomas Bromley, the Chief Justice, began to cough, and "hem and ha ! " as if there must be some mistake, and as though he would have said, " Gentlemen of the jury, do you know what you are doing ? " The twelve honest men replied, that it was " all right," they " knew what they were about," and persisted in their decision, until the Chief Justice, who thought every jury box ought to be a packing case, hinted that tbe matter was one in which the Crown was interested, and that the Crown would stand no nonsense. The jurymen, being still firm, they were hurried off to prison, and were only released upon paying enormous fines ; which proved, at least, that the Government set a tremendous price upon their honesty. On the 19th of July, 1554, Philip landed at Southampton, on his way to fulfil his marriage contract with Mary ; but he had taken the precaution to send on before him the Count of Egmont, who was intended to be mistaken for his master, and thus serve as a sort of pilot engine, in case of any collision with the populace. The expedient was very necessary, for the pilot engine — we mean Egmont — got some h2 96 comic History of England. [book v. very hard knocks fiom several old buffers with whom he came in contact, and Philip, seeing the kind of reception he might expect, came accom- panied by a very long train, by way of escort to his new station. On the 25th of the same month he was married to the queen, at Winchester, and the pair, whom we must call, by courtesy, " the happy couple," came to London, where a series of festivities, including the rapid descent of II Diavolo Somebody, along a rope from the top of St. Paul's,* had been prepared in honour of the Eoyal marriage. The object of Philip in marrying Mary had been simply the crown, and his conduct, if not his words, very plainly told her so. Her fond- ness for him became quite a bore, particularly when he found that she Philip and Mary. could not get Parliament to agree to the projects he made her propose for his own aggrandisement. She had not long been the wife of Philip, when an attack of dropsy was added to her other interesting points, and her heartless husband made her a butt — or, as Strype says, a water- butt — for his unfeeling ridicule. In order to obtain a little popularity, Philip made his wife release Elizabeth, and Courtenay, Earl of Devon, from the Tower, as well as a few other favourites of the public, but the people never took to the husband of the queen, while the quarrels * A fact.— See Stowe. CHAP. VII.] SMITHFIELD MAETYKS. 9*J between the Spanish and the English were perpetual. On New- Year's Day, 1555, there was a row among them at Westminster, when a Spanish friar got into the Abbey, and pulled away at the alarum with tremendous fury. He frightened the city almost into fits, and, for thus trifling with the rope, Philip doomed him to the halter, in order to gratify the people, who by no means chimed in with this extraordinary freak of bell-ringing. The year 1555 was signalised by the revival of all the statutes against heretics, and the Protestants were kept burning night and day, in the neighbourhood of Smithfield. We will not dwell longer than necessary upon this disgraceful portion of our national annals. Among many dis tinguished persons who suffered death were Ridley, Latimer, and Cranmer, who all exhibited firmness worthy of a better fate, and it is said of Cranmer that he put hie right hand into the fire first, for having, some time before, signed some documents of recantation, in the hope of saving his life at the expense of his consistency. In three years about three hundred individuals perished at the stake, through refusing to put their characters at stake by vacillation in the moment of danger. After the death of Cranmer, Cardinal Pole was installed in the see of Canterbury, for Mary's rage against the Protestants was extreme, and she hoped that the fires of Smithfield would be kept alive by that exalted prelate, though in expecting to stir them up with the long Pole she was somewhat disappointed, for the new archbishop was rather moderate than otherwise in his ecclesiastical policy The queen's object was to control England in the war between France and Spain, but Pole, even at the risk of becoming in his turn a scaffold Pole, resisted the royal will to the extent of his power. The fact is that Philip, who had never married for love, was determined to be as plain with his wife as she was plain to him, and told her that unless he could make his union profitable, he should make a slip-knot of the nuptial tie, and get away from it altogether. Alarmed at the prospect of being left " a lone woman " on the throne, she sought and found a pretext for declaring a war against France by getting up one of those confessions which in those days a judicious use of the torture could always procure at a few hours' notice. Some unhappy agitators were detected in a small conspiracy, when the fact or falsehood of their having been encouraged by Henry of France was, after the intense application of the screw, regularly screwed out of them. They were made to fabricate stories to suit the purposes of the queen, and indeed their invention was literally put to the rack by the cruelties to which they were subjected. War against France was now declared, but the revenue was in such a miserable state that Mary was obliged to beg, borrow, and steal in every direction for the necessary funds to commence hostilities Having at last got together an army of ten thousand men, she found that the troops must be fed, and she accordingly seized all the corn she could find, threatening at the same time to thrash the owners like their own wheat if they had the impudence to ask for the value of the stolen property. i)8 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. The well-known impolicy of interfering in other people's quarrels was powerfully illustrated by the fate of the English interposition in the dispute between France and Spain,' for after a few trifling advantages, one of which was the taking of Ham before breakfast by Philip himself, England sustained a loss, which was at that time regarded as one of the most serious character. Valour, under the guise of the great Duke of Guise, wrested Calais from its masters, and restored it to the French, whose hearts rebounded with boundless joy at the acquisition of this valuable fortress. The exchequer was reduced to such a beggarly condition by the ex- penses of the late unfortunate war, that the queen, who never called upon her Parliament unless she wanted something, was compelled to summon the commons. With their usual squeezability they permitted to flow into the public coffers sufficient to keep the royal head above water ; and one Copley, who ventured a few words by way of remon- strance, was pusillanimously committed to that custody from which the old English expression of " cowardy cowardy custard " {query, custod.) has been supposed to derive its origin. Part of the produce of the recent subsidy was laid out in ships, and as the ships came to no good, it was said at the time that this appro- priation of the money was very like making ducks and drakes of it. The fleet after passing over the bosom of the ocean, came to Brest, but the breastworks were so strong, that the British force had not the heart to make an attack upon them, Some miscellaneous pillage was perpe- trated in the neighbourhood by the English, who nevertheless came off second best ; and Philip, who was getting rather tired of the business, was willing to treat with a view to a treaty. While thinking how he should retire from foreign hostilities, he received from England tidings that held out the certain prospect of domestic peace, for he got the news of the death of his wife Mary. Miserable and middle-aged, detested and dropsical, this wretched woman was tormented by every kind of reflection, from that presented by the mirror of her own mind, to the dismal prospect shadowed forth in her looking-glass. She had lost Calais ; but, as the audacious Strype has boldly suggested, she might have become callous to that, had she not known the fearful fact, that her husband Philip declared he had had his fill of double cursedness, and intended to try in Spain what a timely return to single blessedness might do for him. All these troubles proved, like herself, unbearable, and on the 17th of November, 1558, she expired, after a short and yet too long a reign of five years, four months, and eleven days. She had reached the forty-third year of her age, and must have made the most of her time, in one way at least ; for no woman of her age had obtained so much odium of a durable quality, as she in her comparatively short life had acquired. If we were to draw a faithful character of this princess, we need do nothing more than upset our inkstand over our paper, and cause the saturated manuscript to be transferred to our pages in one enormous chap, vrr.] DEATH OF MARY. 99 black blot ; for we are sure that no printer's type could furnish a type of the person whom we have the horribly black job of handing down — Philip (of England and Spain) hears of his wife's death. or rather knocking down — to posterity. Those indefatigable readers who are desirous of having the appropriate epithets which Mary's character deserves, are requested to take down the dictionary, and having selected from it all the adjectives expressive of badness that the language contains, place them in a string or a series of strings, before the name of Mary. To look for her virtues would require the aid of one of those solar microscopes which give visibility to the merest atom, and the particle if even discovered, might be deposited in the mental eye without its being susceptible of anything having entered it. She seems to have possessed some sincerity ; but this only gave a certain degree of vigour to her evil propensities. She was perhaps susceptible of some attachments, but so is a boa constrictor, though few would conceive it a privilege to be held in the firm embraces of that paragon of tenacity towards those with whose fate it happens to twine itself. She had a certain vigour of mind, just as the tiger has a certain vigour of spring, a parallel the force of which her victims very frequently experienced. The loss of Calais was, perhaps, one of the most important r COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK VI. said the anonymous scribbler, which threw Monteagle into such alarm that he took the Hoxton 'bus, and went off to Whitehall the same evening to see Cecil. The king was " hunting the fearful hare at Royston," in the most hare-um scare-um style, and it was resolved that nothing could, would, or should be done until the return of the- sovereign. Notwithstanding the letter having been delivered as early as the twenty-sixth of October, nothing seems to have been done to stop the. conspiracy, for Fawkes .?ent regularly once a day to the cellar, to count the coals, snuff the rushlight, and do any other little odd job that the progress of the conspiracy might require. Cecil and Suffolk having laid their heads together on the subject of the letter, at last fancied they had found the solution of the riddle, which, for the convenience of the student, we will throw into the form of a charade, after an approved model. My first is a sort of peculiar tea ; My second a lawn or a meadow might be ; My whole 's a conspiracy likely to blow King, Commons, and Lords to a place I don't know. The " peculiar tea " was gunpowder, the " lawn " or " meadow " was a plot — of grass, and the whole was the gunpowder plot, which, though it went off very badly at the time, caused an explosion from which the- country has not yet quite recovered. Notwithstanding the solution of the mystery, no steps were taken to bring the matter to an issue, and Fawkes was permitted to be at large about town, paying his diurnal visits to the cellar without attracting the observation of any one- Tresham and Winter talked the matter over in Lincoln's Inn Fields, or wandered amid the then romantic scenery of Whetstone Park, to consult on the scheme and its probable completion. The timid Tresham pro- posed flight, but his fellow conspirators, who were not so flighty,, resolved on persevering, and the intrepid Fawkes kept up a regular Cellarius,* by dancing backwards and forwards about the cellar. The shilly-shallying of all parties with respect to the gunpowder conspiracy is one of the most remarkable features of the period when it occurred ; for we find the plotters, with detection staring them in the face, adhering to their old haunts, while the intended victims, though- made aware of the plot, were as tardy as possible in taking any steps to- baffle it. Fawkes continued his visits to the cellar just as confidently as ever ; and one would think that ultimately detection was the object he had in view, for he lurked about the premises with such obstinate perseverance that his escape was impossible. At length Suffolk, the Lord Chamberlain, took Monteagle down to the House the day before the opening of Parliament, to see that all was right, and they occupied themselves for several hours in looking under the seats, unpicking the * We may as well state, for the benefit of that posterity which this work will reach and the Cellarius will not, thvt the Cellarius is a dance fashionable in the year 184T whcvt this history was written. ClIAr. I ] SEIZURE OF GUY FAWKES. 133 furniture of the throne to see if any one was concealed inside, and searching into every hole and corner where a conspirator was not likely to secrete himself. Having taken courage from the fact of there being no signs of danger, they determined to go down stairs into the cellar, under pretence of stopping up the rat-holes — for even in those early days rats found their way into the House — and they had no sooner opened the door than they saw in one corner a round substance, which they at first took for a beer barrel. They approached it with the inten- tion of giving it a friendly tap, when the supposed barrel rose up into the height of a water-butt. Suffolk instantly got behind Monteagle, who stood trembling with fear, when the phantom cask assumed the form of a " tall, desperate fellow," who proved to be Fawkes, and the Chamberlain, affecting a careless indifference, demanded his "name, birth, and parentage." Guido handed his card, bearing the words G Fawkes, and announced himself as the servant of Mr. Percy, who carried on a trade in coals coke, and wood, if he could, in the immediate neighbourhood. " Indeed," said Suffolk, " your master has a tolerably large stock on hand, though I think there is something else screened besides the coals, which I see around me." Without adding another word, he and Monteagle ran off, and Fawkes hastened to acquaint Percy with what had happened. Poor Guido seems to have formed a most feline and most fatal attachment to the place, for nothing could keep him out of the cellar, though he knew he was almost certain of being hawled, unceremoniously, over the coals, and he went back, at two in the morning, to the old spot, with his habitual foolhardiness. He had no sooner opened the door than he was seized and pinioned, without his opinion being asked, by a party of soldiers. He made one desperate effort to make light of the whole business, by setting fire to the train, but he had no box of Congreves at hand, and he observed, with bitter boldness, in continuation of a pun which he had made in happier days, that he had at last found his match and lost his Lucifer. Poor Guy Fawkes, having been bound hand and foot, was taken on a stretcher to Whitehall, having been previously searched, when his pocket was found filled with tinder, touch-wood, and other similar rubbish. Behind the door was a dark lanthorn, or bull's-eye, that had cowed the soldiers at first glance, by its glazed look, but it seemed less terrible on their walking resolutely up to it. Fawkes was taken to the king's bed- room, at Whitehall, and though his limbs were bound and helpless, he spoke with a thick,, bold, ropy voice, that terrified all around him. His tones had become quite sepulchral, from remaining so long in the vault, and when asked his name, he scraped out from his hoarse throat the words "John Johnson," which came gratingly — as if through a grating — on the ears of the bystanders. He announced himself as John the footman to Mr. Percy, and he threw himself into an attitude — which was rather cramped by his pinions — which he found anything but the sort of pinions that J Si COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND, [liOOK VI. would enable him to soar into the lofty regions of romance to which he had aspired. He nevertheless boldly announced his purpose, with the audacity of a stage villain; and with that sort of magnanimity which lasts, on an average, about five minutes, in the guilty breast, he refused to disclose the names of his accomplices. One of the Scotch courtiers who had a natural feeling of stinginess, asked how it was that Fawkes had collected so many barrels of gun- powder, when half the quantity would have done ? upon which Fawkes replied, that his principal had desired him to purchase enough to blow the Scotch back to Scotland. " Hoot, awa, mon !" rejoined the Scot; " but ken ye not that ye might have bought half the powder, and put the rest of the siller in your pocket?" Fawkes sternly intimated that though he would have blown up the Parliament, he would not defraud his principal. "Hoot, mon!" cried the Scotchman, who loved his specie under the pretence of loving his species, and who, it is probable, belonged to the Chambers ; " Hoot, mon !" he whined, " dinna ye ken that there are times when you mun just throw your preencipal overboard? "* On the Gth of November Fawkes was sent to the Tower, witli instructions to squeeze out of him whatever could be elicited by the screw, which was then the usual method of scrutiny. For four days he would confess nothing at all ; but his accomplices began to betray themselves by their own proceedings. Several of them fled; but Tresham exhibited the very height of impudence by coming down to the Council and asking if he could be of any use in the pursuit of the rebels. Nothing but the effrontery of the boots which ran after the stolen shoes, crying " Stop thief!" and have never returned to this very hour, can be compared with the coolness of Tresham in offering to aid in effecting the capture of the conspirators. Catesby and Jack Wright cut right away to Dunchurch, Percy filled his purse, and Christopher Wright packed up his kit, to be in readiness for making off when occasion required, while Keyes made a precipitate bolt out of London the morning after the plot was discovered. Rookwood, who had ordered relays of fine horses all along the road, went at full gallop through Highgate, and never slackened his pace till he reached Turvey, in Bedfordshire, where he came tumbling almost topsy-turvy over the inhabitants. Arriving at Ashby, St. Legers, with a legerete quite worthy of the race for the St. Leger itself, he had already travelled eighty miles in six hours ; but he nevertheless pushed along on his gallant steed — a magnificent dun — who always ran as if he had a commercial dun at his heels, to Dunchurch. Here he found Digby, enjoying his otium cum dig — with a hunting party round him ; but the guests guessed what was in the wind, and fearing they might come in for the blow, had vanished in the night-time. When Digby sat down to breakfast the next day, his circle of friends had dwindled to a triangle, consisting of Catesby, Percy, and Rookwood, who, with their host, now "become almost a host in himself, took speedily to horse, and rode a * A &ci. CIIAP. I.] CAPTURE OF THE CONSPIRATORS 135 regular steeple-chase to the borders of Staffordshire. Here they arrived on the night of November the 7th, at Holbeach, where they took pos- session of a house ; but by this time Sir Kichard Walsh, the sheriff of Flight of Rookwood. Worcester, who had got writs out against them all, was close upon them with his officers. In the morning their landlord, one Littleton, having been let intc their secret, let himself out of his bed-room window through fear, and Digby decamped under the pretence of going to buy some eggs to suck for breakfast, as well as to look for some succour. Digby had hardly shut the street door when its bang was echoed by a bang up stairs, occasioned by Catesby, Percy, and Rookwood having endeavoured tc dry some gunpowder in a frying pan over the fire. Catesby was burnt and blackened, besides being blown up for having been the chief cause of the accident ; and shortly afterwards, to add to their misfortunes, the sheriff, with the posse comitatus, surrounded the dwelling. The con- spirators endeavoured to parry with their swords the bullets of their assailants, but this was a hopeless job, and keeping up their spirits as well as they could, they exclaimed at every shot fired on the side of the king, " Here comes another dose of James's powder." J[36 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V}. Catesby, addressing Thomas Winter, roared out, " Now then, stand by me, Tom ! " and Winter, suddenly taking a spring to his friend's side, they were both shot by one musket. Their attendants, not being able to get the bullet out, issued a bullet-in to say they were both dead, and the brothers Wright were not long left to bewail the fate of their accomplices. Percy, who had persevered to the last, got a wound which wound him up, and Rookwood had received such a home-thrust in the stomach from a rusty pike, that the pike rust sadly disagreed with him. Digby, whose feelings had run away with him, was overtaken, caught, and made fast, because he had been too slow, while Keyes came to a dead- lock, and the prisoners being all brought to London, were lodged in the Tower. Tresham, who had never left town, but was strutting about with all the easy confidence of a man with " nothing out against him," was suddenly nabbed, in spite of his remonstrances, conveyed in exclamations of " What have I done ?" " La ! bless me ! there must be some- mistake !" and other appeals of an ejaculatory but useless character. Poor Guido Fawkes was examined by Popham, Coke, and Wood, whose names may now for the first time be noticed as appropriate to the business they were intrusted with. Popham is surely emblematical of the series of pops, bangs, and explosions that would have ensued from the Gunpowder Plot ; while Coke and Wood are obviously symbolical of the combustibles required for fuel. In vain did these sagacious persons attempt to get anything from Guido, who said "he belonged to the Fawkes and not to the spoons, who might perhaps be made to convict themselves by cross-questioning." Popham popped questions in abun- dance ; Coke tried to coax out the truth ; and Wood, if he could, would have got at the facts ; but neither threats nor promises could prevent Fawkes from showing his metal. Posterity, in altering his name to Guy Fox, has happily hit upon and appropriately expressed the cunning of his character. He confessed his own share in the business readily enough, but resolutely refused to betray his associates. " I will not acknowledge that Percy is in the plot," he cried ; which reminds us of an intimation made by a gentleman just arrested, to his surrounding friends, that " he did not wish the bailiff pumped upon." A nod is as good as a wink in certain cases ; and like winking the sheriff's officer was submitted to a course of hydro- pathic treatment. In the same manner the declaration of Fawkes that " Percy had nothing to do with it — oh dear no, nothing at all ! " was quite enough to put the authorities on the right scent had any such guidance been required. Poor Fawkes was so fearfully damaged by the torture he had under- gone, that his handwriting was entirely spoiled ; and specimens of his mode of signing his name after the torture, contrasted with the copy of his autograph before the cruel infliction, present the reverse of the result which writing-masters of our day boast of producing by their six lessons in penmanship. CHAP. I.] GUIDO FAWKES IS PUT TO THE TORTURE. 137 Guido Fawkes, however, confessed nothing specifically beyond what the Government already knew, but Tresham and Catesby's servant lUVE.CTRiCTJ FIREWORKS) Guy Fawkes before and after the Torture. Bates, a man remarkable for his betise, confessed whatever the authorities required. Tresham being seized with a fatal illness in prison, retracted his confession, which he declared had been extorted or " extortured " — as Strype has it — from him, and he died after placing his recantation in the hands of his wife to be given to Cecil. The surviving conspirators were brought to trial after some delay, and though they all pleaded not guilty, as long as there was a chance of escape, they were no sooner convicted beyond all hope than they began boasting of their offence, and were all " on the high ropes " when they came to the scaffold. Oarnet the Jesuit was served up. by way of garniture to the horrible banquet that the vengeance of the Protestants required. This brilliant character shone with increased lustre as the time for his execution J 38 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK VI, approached, and however glorious had been his rise, the setting was worthy of Garnet in his very brightest moments. Besides those who were executed for an avowal, or at least, a proved participation in the Gunpowder Plot, several persons were punished very severely, in the capacity of supplementary victims, who might, or might not, have been implicated in the conspiracy. Lords Mordaunt and Stourton, two Catholic nobles, were fined, respectively, ten thousand and four thousand pounds, because they did not happen to be in their places in Parliament, to be blown up, had Fawkes succeeded in accom- plishing his object. The Earl of Northumberland was sent to the Tower for a few years, and mulcted of thirty thousand pounds, because he had made Percy a gentleman pensioner, some years before ; but no trouble was taken to show how this could have rendered him afterwards a rebel, nor how Northumberland could be responsible, even if such a result had really arrived. But it was urged by the apologists for this severity, that the Gunpowder Treason would have been fatal alike to the good and the bad, and that as the punishment should correspond with the offence, an indiscriminate dealing out of penalties among die guilty and the innocent was quite allowable CHAP. II.] JAMES URGES A UNION WITH SCOTLAND. 139 CHAPTER THE SECOND. JAMES THE FIRST (CONTINUED). the advantage he Parliament that -was to have been dissolved in thin air on the 5th of November, leaving nothing behind but a report in several volumes of smoke, met for the des- patch of business on the 21st of January, 1606. Laws were passed against the Papists in a most vexa- tious spirit, and by one enactment they were positively prohibited from removing more than five miles from home without an order signed by four magistrates. If a Catholic had got into a cab, and the horse \\ had run away, without the driver being able to pull up within the fifth mile, the fare would have been most unfairly sacrificed James, who saw Scotland would derive from an alliance with England, began to urge the Union, but the English naturally objected to such a very unprofitable match ; for Scotland had nothing to lose, nothing to give, nothing to lend, and nothing to teach, except the art of making bread without flour, joke-books without wit, reputation without ability, and a living without anything. James felt that the sarcasms on the Scotch were personal to himself, and he told the Parliament they ought not to talk on matters they did not understand ; but it was thought that to restrict them to subjects which they did understand, would be equiva- lent to depriving them of liberty of speech on nearly every occasion. James had become somewhat popular on account of the attempt to blow him up sky-high with all his ministers, and a rumour of his having been assassinated, sent him up a shade or two higher in the affections of his people. It is a feature in the character of the English that they always take into their favour any one who seems to be an object of persecution ; and there is no doubt that if in a crowd there is any one desirous of rising in public esteem, he has only to ask a friend to give him a severe and apparently unmerited blow on the head, in order to render him the idol of the surrounding multitude. If there had been no Gunpowder Plot, it would have been worth the while of James to 140 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [book VI. have got one up, for the express purpose of increasing his popularity. His qualities, as shown in his way of life at this time, do not warrant the esteem in which he was held ; for he divided his time between the pleasures of the table, the excitements of the chase, and the black- guardism of the cock-pit. When remonstrated with on the lowness of his pursuits, he declared that his health required relaxation ; and he would declare that he would rather see one of his Dorking chickens win his spurs, than witness the grandest tournament. These pursuits, which were expensive, caused him to do many acts of meanness to obtain the necessary supplies : and among other things he went to dine with the Clothworkers as well as with the Merchant Tailors, among both of whom the royal hat was sent round at the close of the banquet. At the second of these entertainments his own beaver had just made the circuit of the table with considerable effect, when, encouraged by the liberality of the company, he shoved on to the social board a cap, in the name of his son, Prince Henry. The collection for the child was not very ample, for many of the guests objected to being called upon for a trifle towards lining the pockets of the young gentleman's new frock, more especially when it was obvious that James fully intended to clutch the whole of the additional assets. Among other disreputable methods he took of procuring money, was the institution of the order of Baronets, whose titles he sold at a King James disposing of Baronetcies, CHAP. II. 1 DEATH OF PRINCE HENRY. 141 thousand pounds each, without regard to the merit of the purchasers. The antiquity of a baronetcy is therefore not much in its favour, and those who can trace the possession of such a distinction in their family down to the first establishment of the rank, do nothing more than prove the possession, either honestly or dishonestly, of a thousand pounds by one of his ancestors. Seventy-five families took advantage of this traffic in dignities to obtain a sort of spurious nobility, founded on the necessities of the sovereign. The only qualifications required of candidates wishing to be elected to the order were " cash down," to pay the fees, and an ability to trace a descent from at least a grandfather on the father's side; so that semble, as the lawyers say, the maternal ancestors might have been utterly hypothetical and purely anonymous. The arms of the baronets have always included those of Ulster, because the money they contributed was designed for the relief of that province — a proof that Ireland has been a drain upon England for a long series of centuries. The emblem of Ulster is a bloody hand, which was only too appropriate to the place ; and the symbol being called in the language of heraldry a hand gules — or gold — in a field argent — or silver — was also characteristic of the metallic source from which the baronets derived their titles. Prince Henry, the heir to the throne, had long been looked upon as a pleasing contrast to his odious father, and the people were anticipating the former's reign with an assurance that the amiable and accomplished son would compensate for the infliction they had endured in the ignorance, pride, and selfishness of the parent. Death, however, that sometimes seizes first on the best, and leaves the worst till the last — on the principle of the boy who began by picking all the plums out of the pudding — took the youthful prince before appropriating his papa, and caused the latter sinfully to exult in being the survivor of his own offspring. He forgot the maxim that " Whom the gods love, die young," and the remarks he made upon his own comparative longevity proved that he at least was one of those whom the gods had not been anxious to adopt at the earliest opportunity. The young prince died of a malignant fever, on the 5th of November, 1612, and his father, whose harsh conduct — especially to Sir Walter Raleigh and other great men — had been criticised by his heir, allowed no mourning to take place, but made the unnatural and blasphemous boast that " he should outlive all who opposed him." Though having little or no affection for his own children, James delighted in having about him some low and sneaking favourite who would natter his ridiculous vanity, and help to cheat him into the belief that he was a good and amiable character. As no one of spirit and honesty would consent to become the despicable parasite that James required, some mean and unprincipled vagabond was of necessity selected as the depositary of that confidence which a son, with the feelings of a gentleman, could not of course participate. Henry had therefore been excluded from that free communication which should exist between child VOL. II. L 142 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK VI. and parent in every station, and an uneducated humbug named Robert Carr had wormed his way into the heart, or rather into the favour of James, who was drawn towards the other by a sympathy with congenial littleness. Carr was such a wretched ignoramus as to be unable to speak ten consecutive words of grammar, and it flattered the egregious vanity of James to be able to impart some of that education of which he had just about enough to enable him to show his superiority over his most unlettered pupil. Carr played his cards so successfully that he was soon not only knighted but created Viscount Rochester ; and though his future career proved him worthier of the rope, he actually obtained the garter. It was to be presumed that this disreputable scapegrace would soon do something or other to prove how far James had been right or wrong in the selection of a friend, adviser, companion, and favourite. The necessities of Carr were so well supplied by sponging on his royal patron that it was not necessary for the former to. commit any pecuniary swindle ; but he very rapidly got into a most disgraceful connection with the Countess of Essex, a vile person who obtained a divorce from her own husband, to enable her to marry Rochester. The latter had a friend named Sir Thomas Overbury, who advised him to have nothing to do with the profligate woman in question. This so irritated the countess that she persuaded her paramour to join her in poisoning the party who had given the advice, and after trying the homoeopathic principle for some weeks without effect, they at length gave him one tremendous dose which did the atrocious business. Carr had received the title of Earl of Somerset on his infamous marriage, but the favourite was getting already a little out of favour when the affair of the murder happened. James being one of those who promptly turned his back on those who were " down in the world," and had smiles for those only who were prosperous, began to estrange himself from Somerset, and to transfer his worthless friendship to George Villiers, afterwards Duke of Buckingham. The king first saw this young scamp at the Theatre Royal, Cambridge, where a five-act farce called Ignoramus was being represented by a party of distinguished amateurs, with the applause that usually attends these interesting performances. Villiers was appointed cup-bearer — a grade immediately under that of bottle-holder — to the king, and the influence of the new favourite was soon felt by the old, who found himself arrested one fine morning on the charge of having been concerned in Sir Thomas Overbury 's murder. The steps taken for the punishment of this atrocity were perfectly characteristic of the period. By way of a preliminary offering to Justice, some half dozen of the minor and subor- dinate parties to the crime were executed off-hand, while the two prin- cipal delinquents, Somerset and his countess, having been tardily condemned, were immediately afterwards pardoned. The infamous couple subsequently received a pension of four thousand a year from the king, who no doubt felt that Somerset could show him up, and was just the sort of scoundrel to do so unless he could be well paid for his silence. CHAP. II.] RALEIGH ARRIVES AT GUIANA. 143 The annuity allowed to the ex-favourite must be looked upon as hush- money, rendered necessary by the mutual rascalities of the donor and the recipient, -who being in each other's power, were under the necessity of effecting a compromise. The fall of Somerset was followed by the rise of Villiers, who rushed through the entire peerage with railroad rapidity, passing the intermediate stations of Viscount, Earl, and Mar- quis, till he reached the terminus as Duke of Buckingham. Poor Raleigh, who had been thirteen years in the Tower, where he was writing the History of the World, began to feel a very natural anxiety to get out of his prison, and describe, from ocular demonstra- tion, the subject of his gigantic labours. He accordingly spread a report that he knew of a gold mine in Guiana, where the stuff for making guineas could be had only for the trouble of picking it up, and the king was persuaded to let him go and try his luck in America. Raleigh had no sooner got free than he published a prospectus and got up a company with a preliminary deposit sufficient to start him off well on his new enterprise. He proved with all the clearness of figures — which the reader must not think of confounding with facts — that a hundred per cent must be realised ; and the shares in Raleigh's gold mine rose to such a height that he was enabled to rig a ship after having rigged the market. Plans were published, with great streaks of gamboge painted all over, to represent the supposed veins of gold that were waiting only to be worked ; and through the medium of these veins the British public bled very rapidly. The extent of the mining mania got up by Sir Walter may be imagined when we state that he arrived with twelve vessels at Guiana, a portion of which had already been taken possession of by Spain ; and the English speculators declared with disgust, that they had come for the gold, and had not expected to meet the Spanish. The town of St. Thomas being already in the possession of the latter, was boldly attacked and ultimately taken, but instead of rinding a mine there were only two ingots of gold in the whole place, which Raleigh clutched, exclaiming " Those are mine," immediately on landing. It was evident to the whole party that Raleigh's story of the gold mine was a mere " dodge " to get himself released from the Tower ; and when they came to look for the boasted vein, they found that it was literally in vain that they searched for the precious metal. A mutiny at once broke out, and as Raleigh deceived them in his promise of introducing them to abundance of gold, they made him form a very close connection with a large quantity of iron. They in fact threw him into fetters, a species of treatment that, had it been applied to every projector of a bubble com- pany during the railway mania of 1846, would have hung half the aldermen of London in chains, and linked society together by a general concatenation of nearly every rank as well as every profession. Poor Raleigh arrived safe in Plymouth Sound, but he found a proclamation out against him, accusing him of a long catalogue of crimes, and inviting all the world to take him into custody. 144 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [BOOK VI. The Spanish ambassador was at the bottom of this affair, for the Spaniards had a score of old scores against Sir Walter, who had no sooner landed at Plymouth than he was made a prisoner. With con siderable ingenuity he pretended to be very ill, and even feigned insanity ; but the latter was a plea that could not so easily be established in the time of Raleigh as it has been in our own days, when it has been found a convenient and effective excuse for those who, having committed murder, escape on the ground of their being given to eccentricity. Raleigh tried it on very hard, by talking incoherently, playing the fool, dancing fandangos in his prison, sending a potato to his tailor to be measured for a new jacket, and feigning other acts of madness, but to the writ de lunatico inquirendo, there was no other return than nullum iter, or no go, when the investigation into his state of mind was concluded. In order to save the trouble and expense of a fresh convic- tion, the old outstanding judgment was again brought up, and it was determined to kill him by a bill of reviver — if such an anomaly could be permitted. He grew ponderously facetious as his end drew nigh, and made one or two jokes that might have saved him had they been heard in time, for they gave evidence of an amount of mental imbecility that should have released him from all responsibility on account of his actions. Among other lugubrious levities of Raleigh before his death, was the well-known but generally-execrated remark in reference to a cup of sack which was brought to him : " Ha ! " said he, " I shall soon have the sack without the cup ; " an observation that elicited, as soon as it was known, an immediate order for his execution. " That head of Raleigh's must come off," cried the king, " for it is evident the fellow has lost the use of it." On the 29th of October, 1618, poor Raleigh joked his last, upon the scaffold, where he stood shivering with cold, when the sheriff asked him to step aside for a few minutes and warm himself. " No," said Sir Walter, " my wish is to take it cool ; " and then looking at the axe, he balanced it on the top of his little finger — some say his chin — and observed, " This is a great medicine, rather sharp, but it cures all diseases." At this the headsman, no doubt irritated by the maddening mediocrity of the intended witticism, let fall the fatal blade, and Raleigh, with his head off, never came to — or rather never came one — again. We ought, perhaps, to shed a tear over the fate of this great, though unprincipled man ; but it is not so easy to turn on the main of senti- ment to the fountains of pity, after the water has been cut off during more than two centuries by Time, in the capacity of turncock. Besides, in going through the history of our native land there are so many victims, all more or less worthy of a gush of sympathy, that we should literally dissolve ourselves in tears before we had got half through our labours, if we began giving way to what old King Lear has ungallantly termed a woman's weakness. On the 16th of June, 1621, James, being "hard up," and finding that the circulation of the begging-box produced no effect, was compelled to summon a Parliament. Some cash to go on with was voted to the CHAP. II.] OFFICIAL DELINQUENCIES. 145 king, but the Conmions then proceeded to investigate some cases of gross corruption that had been discovered among the Ministers. The Testes, the Cubieres, and other official swindlers of modern France, who, in the midst of meanness, deception, and theft, were still blatant about their " honour," might have found, in the England of 1621, a precedent for their venal rascality. Sir John Bennet, Judge of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, and Field, Bishop of LlandarT, were convicted of bribery. Yelverton, the Attorney-General, was found guilty of having aided in an extensive swindle in the Patent Office, and Bacon, the great " moral philosopher," was found to have been fleecing the public in the Bacon, y» great Moral Philosopher. From a remarkably scarce Print. Court of Chancery, to such a degree, that he might have stuffed the woolsack over and over again from the produce of the shearing to which he submitted the flocks of suitors who appealed to him. He would take bribes in open court, and he would pretend to consider, that as all men should be equal in the eye of the law, the equality could only be achieved by emptying the pockets of every party that came into court, as a pre- liminary to giving him a hearing. It has been said by his apologists, that though he took bribes, his decisions were just, for .he would often give judgment against those who had paid him for a decree in their favour. The excuse merely proves that he was sufficiently unscrupulous 146 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND [BOOK VI. to follow up one fraud by another, and to cheat his suitors out of the consideration upon which they had parted with their money. Bacon endeavoured to effect a compromise with his accusers by a confession of about one per cent, of his crimes, but the Peers insisted on making him answerable in full for all his delinquencies. He then acknowledged twenty-eight articles, which seemed to satisfy the most ravenous of his enemies, who were hungering to see his reputation torn to pieces by the million mouths of rumour. The great seal was taken away from a man of such a degraded stamp, he was fined forty thousand pounds — a mere bagatelle out of what he had bagged — was declared incapable of holding office or sitting in Parliament, and was sent off to the Tower. There were thoughts of beheading him, but happily for England, her Bacon was saved to devote the remainder of his life to literary compo- sitions, which have greatly redeemed his name from obloquy. We must regard the character of our Bacon as streaky, for the dark is inter mingled with the fair in the most wonderful manner. " Bacon was undoubtedly rash, but he might have been rasher," says the incorrigible iStrype, whose name is continually suggestive of the lashing he merited. The Commons having been instrumental in bringing to light a con- siderable quantity of corruption, seemed determined to continue on the same scent, and every one who had a grievance was invited to lay it at once before Parliament. The waste-paper baskets of the House were of course soon overflowing with popular complaints, for there is scarcely a man, woman, or child that cannot rake up a grievance of some kind, upon the invitation of persons professing to be able and willing to supply a remedy. James, fearful that his prerogative would be entrenched upon, wrote a letter to the Speaker, advising the Commons not to form themselves into an assembly of gossips, to listen to all the tittle-tattle that an entire nation of scandal-mongers would be ready to collect ; but the House would not be diverted from its honest purpose by the sneers or threats of the sovereign. A good deal of polite and other letter- writing ensued between the king and the Parliament, until the latter entered on its Journals a protestation, claiming the freedom of speech and the right of giving advice as the undoubted "inheritance of the subjects of England." James was furious at what had occurred, and ordering the Journals of the Commons to be brought to him, he contemptuously tore out the page ; and then, sending back the book, advised the House to turn over a new leaf as soon as possible. " Tell your master," said Coke, in a whisper that nobody heard, " tell him he will do well to take a leaf out of our book, but not in the style in which this leaf has been taken." Parliament was first prorogued, and then dissolved by the king, who declared it would do no good as long as it lasted, and Coke, who was charged with adding fuel to the Parliamentary fire, was sent to the Tower with several others. On the day of the dissolution James nearly met with his own dissolution, for while taking a ride on a spirited horse, who had perhaps a certain instinctive sympathy with the popular cause, he was thrown into the New CHAP. II.] BUCKINGHAM AND PRINCE CHARLES. 147 Eiver. This was on the 6th of January, 1622, when the water was frozen ; and James had just been saying to himself, " I 'm glad I have made the plunge, and broken the ice with these turbulent Commons," when he found himself plunging and breaking the ice after another fashion. Fortunately his boots were buoyant — perhaps they had cork soles — and King James rescued from the New River. •Sir Kichard Young, seizing a boat-hook, which he converted for the moment into a boot-hook, drew the sovereign by the heels from what he afterwards declared was decidedly not his proper element. Buckingham, as we have already seen, was the sole successor to Somerset in the office of royal favourite ; but Charles, the Prince of Wales, had taken rather an aversion than otherwise to the person whom his father patronised. The friends of the latter were generally so disreputable, that his son could not go wrong in avoiding them ; but Buckingham beginning to look upon Charles as the better speculation of the two, resolved on making himself as agreeable as possible to the more faithful and therefore more promising branch of royalty. The duke being fond of scampish adventure, proposed a plan better suited to be made the incident of a farce, than to be ranked as an event in, 148 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK VI. history. He suggested that Charles and himself should travel to Spain under the assumed names of Jack Smith and Tom Smith, in order that the prince might introduce himself to the Infanta of Spain, whom it had been proposed he should many. For such a wild-goose scheme to succeed, an Infanta of Spain must have been much more accessible m those days than in ours ; for though Jack Smith and Tom Smith might find their way into a public-house parlour, and make love to the landlord's daughter, they would assuredly never be allowed to carry their gallantries into any European palace, or even to obtain admittance into any respectable private family. James, when the scheme was proposed to him, discouraged it at first, but being taken by the scapegrace couple in "a jovial humour," which means when the trio happened to be disgracefully drunk, the consent of the king was given to the farcical enterprise. Having arrived at Madrid, the two hopeful youths rode up on mules to the door of Sir Thomas Digby, the British ambassador, and sent in the names of John and Thomas Smith ; but Digby, knowing no less than half a hundred Smiths, declined seeing the " party " unless a more special description was sent up to him. Without waiting for further formality, Buckingham — aliasTom Smith — walked with his portmanteau straight into the ambassador's presence, after a series of scuffles on the staircase, and in the passages, accompanied by shouts of " Keep back, fellow!" "You can't come up!" and other exclamations that had pre- pared Digby to give Tom Smith a reception by no means encouraging. When the ambassador recognised his visitor, his manner completely changed, and his politeness knew no bounds when in Jack Smith, who entered next, Digby saw no less a person than the heir to the throne of England. The incognito was of course at an end in an instant, and the next day Buckingham and the prince were presented to the royal family of Spain, though the farce of the disguise was still kept up to a certain extent; and the Infanta was sent out in her father's carriage, " sitting in the boot," says Howell, "that Charles might get a sight of her." The position of a young lady looking from the boot of a carriage could not have been very becoming, and she does not seem to ha^ve made a particularly favourable impression on her intended suitor. He never- theless expressed his readiness to have another look at her, and he played the part of lover at Buckingham's instigation, for the purpose of getting a variety of presents from the young lady's family. Her brother Philip was anxious for the match, and did everything to encourage it, by giving some valuable article to Charles whenever he evinced anything like affection for the young Infanta. One day he pre- tended to be in a particularly tender mood, and at every piece of gallantry he displayed Philip gave him something costly to take away with him. By a series of smirks, leers, and pretty speeches, he secured some original pictures by Titian and Correggio, but when he rushed up to the Infanta with amorous playfulness, pinking her in the side with his cane, and giving the Spanish version of "Whew, you little CHAP. II. J EARL OF BRISTOL, SENT TO THE TOWER. 149 baggage ! " the Queen of Spain was so delighted that she emptied her reticule, which was full of amber, into the pocket of the Prince, while the word " Halves " was whispered in a sepulchral tone into his ear by the crafty and avaricious Buckingham. When they had got all they could out of the Spanish royal family, the English prince and his companion made up their minds that the Infanta was a failure, and that they had better get home with all possible celerity. Buckingham began treating Philip with the most disrespectful familiarity, slapping him boisterously on the back, alluding to him curtly, but not courteously, as Phil., and otherwise ofiending the royal dignity. At length Prince Charles and his companion called to take leave, when the former played his old part of a devoted lover, beating in the crown of his hat, stamping on the floor, and giving the numerous signs of devotion that a practice of several weeks under a popular actor had made him completely master of. He had no sooner turned his back upon Madrid, and commenced moving towards home, than he made up his mind to cut the matrimonial connection ; and he announced his- determination by a messenger, who was instructed to say to Philip, that, for the good of both parties, and decidedly for the happiness of one, the abandonment of the marriage was much to be desired. Philip, upon whom the Infanta was a drag he would have been glad to get off his hands, became angry at the tampering that had taken place with the young lady's affections ; but as these were no doubt pretty tough, the damage was not material. A proxy had been left in the hands of Digby, Earl of Bristol, the British Ambassador at Madrid, and the royal family sent nearly every day, with their compliments, begging to know when the proxy was to be acted upon ; but finding at last, that, notwithstanding the proxy, there was no approximation to a satisfactory result, a most unpleasant feeling was created. Bristol, who was a man of honour, felt very uncomfortable at the evasive replies he was compelled to give, and was no't sorry to return to England ; though he had, as he naturally observed, " not bargained for the warrant which, in the most unwarrantable manner, awaited his arrival, and sent him straight to the Tower." I^e was soon afterwards released, but was not allowed by Buckingham, the favourite, to approach the king, and a recommendation to Bristol to go to Bath, or to retire to his country seat, was the only reply the ex-ambassador could obtain to his solicitations to be allowed to offer explanations to his sovereign. Charles had given the Infanta scarcely time to recover from the jilting she had just undergone, when, with a cruel disregard of that young person's feelings, he made up to Mademoiselle Henrietta of France, and a marriage with the latter was speedily concluded. The dowry, amounting to about £100,000, was paid partly down, but the nuptial ceremony was performed by proxy ; and the English government wrote over to say, that there was no hurry about the bride, provided some of the cash was transmitted to England as speedily as possible. With some of the cash thus obtained, and with money squeezed out J 50 COMC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK VI. of the people, an expensive engagement was formed with Count Mans- feldt, an adventurer from the Low Countries, who undertook to recover the Palatinate ; if an English army of twelve thousand men were placed under him. The troops were put at his disposal, and embarked at Dover ; but on reaching Calais the governor had no orders to let them pass, and in consequence of the loss of the city in Mary's time, the free list, of which the English had been in the habit of taking advantage, was of course suspended. In vain did Mansfeldt inform the door-keeper that it was all right, and insist that the name of Mansfeldt and party should have been left with the authorities ; for the man resolutely declared he had a duty to perform, which prevented him from admitting the earl and his followers. While they were waiting outside the bar of Calais, several of the troops suffered severely from sea-sickness, and being obliged to go round by the back way, they had become so atte- nuated, that instead of being fit for marching into the Palatinate, they were much better adapted for marching into Guys Hospital. The failure of this expedition was the last event of importance in the reign of James, who was fast sinking under gout and tertian ague, pro- duced by a long indulgence in rums, gins, brandies, and other com- pounds. He died, at the age of fifty-nine, on the 27th of March, 1625, having reigned upwards of two-and-twenty years, during which he showed himself fully deserving of the title bestowed on him by Sully, who said of James I. that he was the " wisest fool in Europe." He was learned, it is true, but Ins acquirements, such as they were, became a bore, from his disagreeable habit of thrusting them at most inappro- priate times upon all who approached him. He was weak, mean, and pusillanimous, while his excessive vanity caused him to select for his companions those pitiful sycophants who would affect admiration for <;hose miserable qualities, which, had he cultivated the friendship of honest and intelligent men, he might have been eventually broken of. He lost, and indeed he did not desire the society of his children, because they could not sympathise with those littlenesses of character which, the older they grew, their judgment caused them more and more to despise and deplore in their unfortunate parent. Happily only two out of seven survived to endure that alienation which must have been painful while it would have been unavoidable ■ and they were thus spared the humiliation of seeing a father vain, selfish, and unrepentant to the last, while their deaths in rapid succes- sion gave him happily no uneasiness. For his eldest son he had, as we have already seen, prohibited the wearing of mourning, thus giving a proof of combined malice and stupidity, since his insults to the dead were of course as impotent as they were wicked and infamous. He was suspicious in the extreme, and always fancied he was going to be done or done for. To guard against the latter contingency he wore a quilted doublet that was proof against a stiletto, and under the apprehension of being taken advantage of, he obstinately excluded every one from his confidence The result was that he never had a friend, through his CHAP. II. J CHARACTER OF JAMES I. 151 constant dread of an imaginary enemy. It has been said of him by one of his historians, that he was fond of laughing at his own conceits ; but the wretch who can even smile at a joke of his own must be such a libel upon human nature that not even Hume-an(d) Smollett (ha ! ha ! mark the pun) shall make us believe that an individual so abject could ever have existed. Though the sovereign himself was not calculated to inspire respect, there were many events in his reign which rendered it useful if not glorious. Sir Hugh Middleton commeuced at Amwell that now venerable New Biver, by dabbling in which he swamped himself and secured a stream of health and prosperity to those who came after him. The immortal Hicks finished his memorable Hall ; Lord Napier invented logarithms, to the extreme disgust of the school-boys of every generation ; martial, by their verdict, expressly implored the Lords of the Admiralty to recommend him to the mercy of the Crown, but there was a general feeling of "It s no business of mine," and to this heartless apathy poor Byng was eventually sacrificed. Never was there a better illustration of the hare with many friends, though not even a hair-breadth escape was permitted to the unfortunate admiral. Never was a gentleman killed under such an accumulation of kindness as Byng, and indeed he was, figuratively speaking, bowed out of existence with so many complimentary and sym- pathetic expressions, that but for the stubborn reality of the leaden bullets he might have fancied that the guns discharged at him were intended rather in the nature of a salute than as a capital punishment. CHAP. VI.] GEORGE THE SECOND. 299 CHAPTER THE SIXTH. GEORGE THE SECOND (CONCLUDED). Discomfiture still attended the English in America, and though fresh troops with fresh leaders were sent off to wipe out the disgrace, they only got wiped out themselves in a most unceremonious manner. On the continent of Europe, too, poor Britannia was at a sad discount ; for Austria, Saxony, Sweden and Russia had all thrown themselves into the arms of France, for the purpose of counteracting the influence of the arms of England. It was only in Indian ink that the creditable part of our country's annals belonging to this period should be written, for in India alone were any of our achievements entitled to some of those epithets we are so fond of bestowing on our own actions. The British Lion had, in fact, retired from the Continent to the Himalaya moun- tains, where he remained on the majestic prowl as the protector of British interests. There was a natural jealousy between England and France on the subject of their relative influence in that country, whose native princes were honoured by the protection of both, and who were always mulcted of a slice of their dominions by way of costs, for the expense incurred in the alleged support of their interests. If the aggressor of one of the Indian rulers happened to succeed, he took at once what he had been fighting for ; while if a defender of some unhappy rajah or nabob was victorious, the native prince was made to pay all the same for the pro- tection afforded him. By this sort of assistance rendered to the Indians, the English and French had succeeded in helping themselves to a good share of territory, and while the former had already obtained possession of Calcutta and Madras, the latter had got at Pondicherry, a very respectable establish- ment under Monsieur Duplex, whose duplicity was, of course, remark- able. By espousing the causes of a set of quarrelsome nabobs, Soubahdars, and other small fry, who had taken advantage of the death of Nizam-ul-Mulk to raise a contest for the throne of the Deccan, the English and the French had found plenty of excuses for quarrelling, and we are compelled to confess that in this part of the world the Gallic cock had good reason for crowing over the British bull-dog. Things might have continued in this unsatisfactory condition, had not Captain Clive, a civilian in the Company's service, exchanged a pen for a sword— a piece of barter that turned out extremely fortunate for English interests. With a small body of troops he took the Citadel of Arcot, nabbed the Nabob, and prevented Duplex from setting up a creature of his own — a disagreeable Indian creature — in that capacity After this achievement, Clive had gone home for his health, and was 800 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND, [BOOK VIIL drinking every morning a quantity of Clive's tea, when in 1755 he accepted a colonelcy, and returned to the scene of his former glories. Here, he was rendered very angry by a pirate of the name of Angria, whom however he quickly subdued : and he had heard from Madras that a mad-rascal named Suraja Dowlar was in the neighbour- hood of Calcutta, and was threatening to settle the settlement. This news came like a thunder-clap on Clive, who determined on giving Dowlar such a dose as he would not easily forget ; and he commenced by conveying secretly to one of his officers, Meer Jaffier — a mere nobody — an offer of the throne. The scheme completely succeeded, and Meer Jaffier became the tool, or rather the spade, for giving a dig at poor Dowlar, who fell to the ground very speedily. Matters had now happily taken a favourable turn, and in America Wolfe distinguished himself, but unfortunately extinguished himself also at the siege of Quebec ; for he died in the moment of victory. Things were mending very perceptibly in all directions, and English honour, which had been for some time at an unusual discount, was once more looking up, when the king, who had been speculating on the rise, was suddenly deprived of all chance of sharing in its advantages. He had made his usual hearty breakfast of chocolate, new-laid eggs, devilled kidneys, tea-cake, red herrings, and milk from the cow, when, as he was preparing to take a walk in Kensington Gardens, he suddenly expired, on the 25th of October, 1760. George II. was in his 77th year, and the 34th of his reign, during the whole of which he had been a Hanoverian at heart, and he had nothing English about him, except the money. His manners were rather impatient and over- bearing, for he had not a courteous style of speaking ; and it was said at the time, that " no one could accuse him of being mealy-mouthed ; for though he was not civil spoken, he was temperate in his living, and thus the term mealy-mouthed could in no sense be applied to him." In forming an estimate of the characters of the sovereigns who have come before us for review, we have found ourselves fortunate in pos- sessing an independent judgment of our own ; for if we had been guided by precedent, we should have been puzzled to know what to think of the different kings and queens, all of whom have had witnesses on both sides, to censure and to praise with a want of unanimity that is really wonderful. George II. has furnished a subject for this division of opinion, and his eulogist has complimented him rather oddly on his old age, a compliment that might as well be paid to an old hat, an ancient pun, a venerable bead, or any other article that has arrived at a condition of antiquity. The reasons given by his panegyrist for praising him are few and insignificant on the whole, though his severer critic founds his strictures on a tolerably substantial basis. We learn from this authority that George II. was ignorant, stingy, stupid, ill-tempered, and obstinate. His predilection for Hanover has, we think, been unjustly censured ; for there is nothing very discreditable, after all, in a love for one's own birth-place, though it may be what is termed a beggarly hole in the CHAP. VI. J CHAEACTEK OF GE0EGE THE SECOND. 301 strong language of detraction. The native of Lambeth has been known to pine with a sort of mal dupays after the cherished sheds and shambles of the New Cut, and we have heard the plaintive accents of " Home, sweet Home," issuing from the lips of the exiled sons and daughters of Houndsditch. If George II. was still faithful in his love for Hanover, ii spite of the superior attractions of England, we may question his caste, but we must admire his constancy ; which presents an honourable contrast to young Love's notorious desertion of the coal and potato shed, when Poverty, in the shape of a man in possession, stepped over the doorway. VOL. TL 302 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK Vlir. CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. ON THE CONSTITUTION, GOVERNMENT AND LAWS, NATIONAL INDUSTRY, LITERATURE, SCIENCE, FINE ARTS, MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE. We feel that the length of the above heading to this, the concluding chapter of the volume, will be sufficient to provoke the legal reader into making a charge for " perusing title and examining same ;" but we promise to make our clauses as pertinent as the magnet to the loadstone. Having already, in the course of preceding chapters, touched upon most of the subjects noticed in the abstract of title to which we allude, it will be unnecessary to hold the reader very long by the button ; but perceiving him getting ready to run away, as the curtain falls upon George II., we cannot help exclaiming, " Stop a minute or two, we \e got just half-a-dozen more words to say to you ! " The Constitution is the first topic on which we have still to touch, and that is a theme which every true patriot loves to dwell upon. We have no hesitation in saying that our beloved country must have the constitution of a horse, to have gone through one-half the severe trials it has experienced. It is apparently peculiar to the soil ; for, though the prescription for making it up has been given to other nations, and has been accurately prepared by some of the ablest political druggists, it has never been swallowed abroad, or, if rammed down the throats of rulers or people, it does not seem to have agreed very well with either one or the other. The British Constitution is a thing sui generis, like the delicious bun of Chelsea, the acknowledged brick of Bath, and the recognised tofTey of Everton. It is vain for other nations to hope that they may have their own materials made up into the pattern they so much admire ; for the attempt would oe quite as abortive, and almost as unwise, as the effort to make a genuine Romford stove away from Romford, Epsom salts half a mile out of Epsom, Windsor soap beyond the walls of Windsor, and the genuine Brighton rock anywhere in the world but in the very heart of Brighton. The British Constitution must be like home-brewed beer, and even more than that, it must be enjoyed where it is brewed ; or, in other words — to draw off one more figure from the cask, — it must be "drunk on the premises." The most eloquent of foreign nations cannot come and fetch it, as it were, in their own jugs, however they may foam and froth about it in their own mugs when they carry it in their mouths by making it the subject of their speeches The durability of the British Constitution, its fitness for wear and tear, has been exemplified in the wonderful manner in which it has survived the rubs that from the hands of party it has experienced. CHAP. VII.] MANNERS, CUSTOMS. ETC., OF THE PEOPLE. 303 This reflection naturally brings into o-rr mind the terms Whig and Tory, into which politicians were dividt d, until modern statesmanship introduced us to a new class of principles, that may be called, concisely and comprehensively, the Conservative-Whig- Radical. The words Whig and Tory came into 'ise, and inlo abuse also, about the year 1679, and their origin has been traced with wonderful ingenuity, for the derivation has nothirg to do with the derivative, according to these ingenious speculation? ; and if we may trust Roger North — a little too far north for us, ly-the-bye — Tory is allied to Tantivy, without the smallest apparent reason for the relationship. It would, perhaps, save a great deal of trouble to keep a register of philological next-of-kin ; and we are sure thnt if something a little nearer than Tantivy could come forward to claim nmnity with Tory, the noun, verb, or any other part of speech it might chance to be, would " hear of something to its advantage." The word Whig seems to be utterly without orthographical heirs-at-law, for no attempt has been made to get at its pedigree. National Industry advanced materially during the period we have just described, and among other things, the glass, which had been hitherto imported chiefly from France, began to be seen through by the English manufacturer. Literature and the Arts flourished in the reigns we have lately gone through ; and Architecture took very high ground, or indeed any ground it could get, for the execution of its projects. Periodical Literature rose in great brilliancy at about the time we have described, and the union of such writers as Steele, Addison, and Swift, in one little paper, must have formed a combination that should have been kept back until the days of advertising vans and gigantic posting- bills, enabling the parties interested to make the most of the " Concen- tration of talent," which might have been the cry of every dead wall in the Metropolis. The manners and customs of the period were not particularly attrac- tive, being, under the two Georges at least, far more German than Germane to our English notions of refinement. In dress, there was somewhat of an approach to the costume of our own days ; and the scarcity of hair on the head began to be supplied by that friend of man, the horse, from whom the barrister has since prayed a tales to furnish the wig, which is considered essential to his forensic dignity. The military costume of the time of George II. is chiefly remarkable for the hats worn by the soldiers, which were something in appearance between the fool's cap and the bishop s mitre, as we find from one of Hogarth's drawings. The condition of the people was not very enviable in the seventeenth or even the eighteenth centuries ; and indeed all classes were very -11-conditioned ; for morality was lax, education was limited, poverty was abundant, extravagance was very common, and wealth extremely insolent. 304 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. I BOOK VIII. Such being the state of the people and the country at this period, we cannot be sorry to get out of their company, though it is not without some regret that we bid farewell for a time to our History. In the course of this work we have rowed in the same galley with Caesar, stood up to our ankles in sea-water with Canute, run after the Mussulman's daughter with Gilbert a Beckett, wielded a battle-axe with Richard on the field of Bosworth, smoked a pipe and eaten a potato with Sir Walter Raleigh, danced with Sir Christopher Hatton on Clerkenwell Green, and sailed round the bay that bears his name with honest Bill Baffin : all these adventures have we enjoj^ed in imagination, that beau ideal of a railway, with nothing to pay and no fear of accidents. We have at length arrived at a station, where we stop for the purpose of refreshment ; but we hope to resume our journey, and proceed in the ordinary train, touching by the way at all stations, high and low, to the terminus we have set our eye upon. THE END. BrtADBURY, AGNEW, &, CO., PRINTERS, WHITKFRIARS. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS *] 020 670 016 6 ■ ' ■ w; ■ 1 ■