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IN MEMORIAM 
 BERNARD MOSES 
 
Clje ^xmttBt d all the ""^Imxtu^tmh. 
 
fy/'j^ 
 
 S^ e / 
 
 <2. e ' <s V 
 
 fe||grMi^ fl| all 
 
 
 cHu l^i^iortral ^ii^ 
 
 m y \ ^^rtia 
 
 LONDON; 
 
 iseo. 
 
5f 
 
 >^r^''? ^';',^•r^JA^/ 
 
 BEItllARD MOSES 
 
M. «■ 
 
 " The greatest of the House of Plantagenet." . Keightley. 
 
 ''• One of the greatest sovereigns that has SAvayed the 
 
 English sceptre." • • . Shaeon Tuejtee. 
 
 " The most sagacious and resolute of English princes." Waltee Scott. 
 
 " A great statesman and commander." , . Mackentosh. 
 
 " The model of a politic and ■warUke king." . Hoie; 
 
 " One of the best legislators and greatest politicians 
 
 that ever filled the throne of England." . Hemey. 
 
 " This great king." . . . .P. Feasee Tttleb, 
 
 «' A firm and capable prince, ■^vho knew how to con- 
 centrate and direct aU the forces of society. In 
 
 biTTi the State possessed a centre and a chief." Guizot. 
 
 " His glorious and triumphant reign." . . Eapin. 
 
 <' His legislative wisdom, and heroic valoui'." , Alison. 
 
 " One of the greatest princes that ever swayed a 
 
 sceptre." .... Laednee's Cyclopedia. 
 
 " The heroic Mng." .... Encyclo.MetrapoUtana. 
 
 783710 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 The spirit of investigation which has, of late 
 years, pervaded much of our historical literature, 
 has worked many changes in the position and esti- 
 mation of some of the most prominent characters in 
 English history. Henry YIII. and Elizabeth, Crom- 
 well and William III., Marlborough and William 
 Penn, do not occupy, with us, the same places which 
 they occupied at the beginning of the present cen- 
 tury. The historians of the last age have come to 
 be regarded as not altogether well-informed ; and as 
 being, in many instances, under the dominion of 
 party or national prejudices. 
 
 There is, however, one period into which this 
 spirit of investigation has not yet penetrated ; — 
 although that period is, in some respects, the most 
 interesting and important of all : " The turning 
 point of English history," according to one writer, — 
 
VIU PREFACE. 
 
 the beginning of English history, in the view of 
 another*,— has received, during the present gener- 
 ation, far less attention than it justly deserved. 
 
 And yet there was one feature of the case which 
 seemed especially to call for a close and searching 
 inquiry. A strange and not very intelligible change 
 had taken place in the estimation awarded to the 
 principal character in this portion of our history. 
 For three hundred years " the greatest of all the 
 Planiagenets " had been held, by most Englishmen, 
 in the utmost veneration. By Hemingford, in 1320, 
 he was described as *^ the most excellent, wise, and 
 sagacious king." By Froissart, in 1400, as " the good 
 king Edward." By Fabian, in 1494, as " slow to all 
 manner of strife ; discreet and wise, and true to his 
 word: in arms a giant." By John Foxe, in 1563, 
 as " valiant and courageous ; pious and gentle." By 
 Hoiinshed, in 1557, as " wise and virtuous ; gentle 
 and courteous." And by Prynne, in 1600, as the 
 *' most illustrious," — " our glorious king Edward." 
 ret by modern writers, — such as Hume and Henry, 
 Mackintosh, Scott, and others, — a very different por- 
 
 * " Diiring tlic contuvy ami a half wliicli followed tlic Con- 
 quest, there could be, properly spcakiiig, uo EnglitJi history." — 
 Macaulaij. 
 
PEEFACE. IX 
 
 traiture is given. In tlieir pages Edward is repre- 
 sented as ambitious, unscrupulous, artful, and vin- 
 dictive. Whence arose this remarkable change in 
 the current and tenor of our English histories ? 
 
 The reason of this altered tone, and the unsound 
 basis of these later and less favorable representa- 
 tions, are both easily discoverable. For more than 
 three hundred years our historians were Englishmen ; 
 while, during the last century, the majority of those 
 who have dealt with the subject have been of Scot- 
 tish birth. And a glance at the old inscription on 
 Edward's tomb* might satisfy us, that no native of 
 the northern kingdom could be expected to write 
 this king's history in a just and impartial spirit. 
 
 The mode, too, in which these writers brought 
 about this great perversion of history was quite 
 consistent with the animus from which it sprang. 
 Two of the most obvious and unquestionable of all 
 the canons by which historical inquiries should be 
 governed, were utterly disregarded. Tradition was 
 preferred to Testimony ; and the assertions of a 
 man's foes were accepted with avidity, in preference 
 to far stronger evidence in his favor. • 
 
 * " Edvardiis Primus : Scotorum Malleus," 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 There is no law of more universal application, 
 than that which prefers the evidence of a contem- 
 porary to that of a person writing long after the 
 events recorded. "As all original witnesses/' says 
 Sir G-. C. Lewis, " must be contemporary with the 
 events which they attest, it is a necessary condition 
 for the credibility of a witness that he be a con- 
 temporary^." 
 
 Now the English chroniclers who lived in Ed- 
 ward's days were some ten or twelve in number ; 
 namely, Hemingford, Trivet, Matthew of Westminster, 
 Wykes, Eishanger, Langtoft, Knighton, the Chron- 
 icles of Lanercost, Rochester, St. Alban's, Abingdon, 
 &c. Against these there is not, on the side of the 
 Scots, one single line of contemporary evidence to 
 be produced. 
 
 Nor do we hear of a Scottish chronicle until some 
 seventy years after Edward's death. But when the 
 Bruces had passed away, and the Stewarts came in 
 their room, about the year 1375, Robert II. of Scot- 
 land employed Barbour to write an eulogistic history 
 of " The Bruce ;" for which work a pension was 
 
 * Lewis on Homan llhtory, p. 10. 
 
PEEFACE. XI 
 
 afterwards granted him. Barbour had to describe 
 events which had happened long before he was born. 
 He had to vindicate Bruce from the double guilt 
 of assassination and of many perjuries. And there 
 was no other way of doing this, than by loading 
 Edward's memory with many grievous accusations. 
 
 After Barbour followed Fordun, who wrote in the 
 last years of the century, and Wyntoun, who wrote 
 between 1400 and 1420. These could only repeat 
 the stories already collected or invented by Barbour ; 
 garnishing his fictions with new circumstances of 
 their own. 
 
 Yet upon these three writers, who compiled from 
 tradition, and by the help of their own imaginations, 
 histories of the events which happened in the days 
 of their grandfathers, do the modern Scotch histo- 
 rians, of all classes, resolve to pin their faith ; pre- 
 ferring such third-rate testimony to that of the ten 
 or twelve English chroniclers who lived in Edward's 
 own day. They thereby violate, as we have said, 
 two of the plainest canons of historical writing. 
 They set aside the evidence of several men who re- 
 corded the facts which passed before their own eyes, 
 and prefer that of two or three collectors of old 
 
XU PREFACE. 
 
 traditions, who lived a century after. And those 
 whose testimony they thus prefer, are writers who 
 wrote not merely with prejudice, but under the in- 
 fluence of feelings of the deepest hostility. 
 
 It is time that this great wrong should be re- 
 dressed. In doing this we need not reject or sum- 
 marily discredit the statements of the three Scottish 
 historians. They have a certain value, inasmuch as 
 they furnish us with the opposite view to that which 
 was naturally taken by Englishmen. Their narratives 
 should be calmly considered ; and only quite dis- 
 credited when they stand opposed to a higher 
 testimony, or to evident probability. A statement 
 which first sees the light some seventy or eighty 
 years after the date of the event to which it refers, 
 and which is not easily reconciled with facts which 
 are beyond a doubt, ought not, surely, to be received 
 with unhesitating belief. But a calm and reasonable 
 comparison of these two classes of writers has never 
 yet been undertaken. It is hoped that this desid- 
 eratum may be in some measure supplied in the 
 following pages. 
 
 For, besides the national prejudice which has 
 pervaded and perverted many histories of this reign, 
 
PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 there are other reasons which render a new examina- 
 tion of the original evidence highly desirable. Few, 
 even of our English writers, have done full justice to 
 the high intellect and largeness of heart of this great 
 king. He is often represented as fond of arbitrary 
 power ; and as yielding important concessions to his 
 people only from necessity, and under the pressure 
 of adverse circumstances. Yet no imputation could 
 be more undeserved ; no censure more unjust. But 
 we must not anticipate the result of the inquiry. 
 We merely assign it, in this place, as one of the 
 reasons for the present attempt, — that, in our view, 
 no adequate justice has ever been rendered to the 
 nobleness, the practical wisdom, and the generosity 
 of soul, which are apparent in every act and decision 
 of the great founder of the English Constitution. 
 
 London, 
 
 November 1860. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I.— A.D. 1066—1239. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The TYRA^'NY 1 
 
 CHAPTER II.— A.D. 1239—1258. 
 The Transition 11 
 
 CHAPTER III.— A.D. 1258—1267. 
 The Convulsion ; . 32 
 
 CHAPTER IV.— A.D. 1268—1272. 
 The Subsidikg of the Waters 78 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I.— A.D. 1272—1278. 
 
 The First English King : Coronation. — Parliament. 
 
 — First Seven Years 90 
 
 II.— A.D. 1279—1284. 
 
 The Statute of Mortmain. — Insurrection in Wales. — 
 Wales subdued. — Statutes of Wales .... 119 
 
 in.— A.D. 1284—1290. 
 Visit to the Continent. — Trial of the Judges,^ 
 
 Death of the Queen 140 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI.— A.D. 1990. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pause and Retrospect 159 
 
 CHAPTER Vn.— A.D. 1291—1299. 
 Scottish Affairs. — The Arbitration 173 
 
 CHAPTER VIII.— A.D. 1299—1296. 
 
 English Affairs. — Troubles with France. — ^War in 
 
 Scotland 197 
 
 CHAPTER IX.— A.D. 1297. 
 The War with France. — Various Troubles at Home 996 
 
 CHAPTER X.— A.D. 1997—1998. 
 Wallets, or Wallace 245 
 
 CHAPTER XI.— A.D. 1999—1302. 
 Affairs in Scotland. — Papal Interference. — Parlia- 
 
 ment 
 
 of Lincoln 271 
 
 J t 
 
 CHAPTER XIL— A.D. 1303—1305. 
 
 Second Conquest of Scotland. — Execution of Wal- 
 lace.— Settlement OF Scotland 293 
 
 CHAPTER XIII.— A.D. 1299—1305. 
 The Disafforesting Controversy. — Commission op 
 
 Trailbaston, &c 319 
 
CONTENTS. XVU 
 
 CHAPTER XIV.— A.D. 1306—1307. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Robert Beuce. — His Assassination of Comtn. — Exas- 
 peration OF Edward. — War renewed. — Death 
 OF THE King 363 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 A. Descent of Prince Edward 423 
 
 B. The Clemency of Edward 424 
 
 C. The Stoet of Eleanor's Heroism 425 
 
 D. On the Eise of Parliaments in England . . 436 
 
 E. The alleged "Massacre of the Bards" . . . 431 
 
 F. Fictions of the Scottish Historians 433 
 
 G. The Storming of Berwick 438 
 
 H. Edward's Obtestation .438 
 
 I. The Nature of Wallace's Sway in Scotland . 439 
 
 J. Wallace's Ravage of the Northern Counties . 440 
 
 K. Parliament of Lincoln 441 
 
 L. Edward of Carnarvon 443 
 
 M. Claimants of the Crown of Scotland .... 444 
 
 N. Edward's alleged Ambition and Vindictiveness 445 
 
 0. The Religious Tone of Edward's Character . 447 
 
 A Year's Expenditure of the King ...... 451 
 
 Origin and Growth of the English Legislature . 454 
 
 Origin and Growth of English Legislation . . . 456 
 
Clje ^xmttBt ai all tlje Ulantagniet^. 
 
 CHAPTER THE FIRST. 
 
 THE TYRANNY. 
 
 A.D. 1066—1239. 
 
 There is no fact upon which historians are more 
 entirely agreed, or upon which the evidence is more 
 abundant, than that of the grinding nature of the 
 Norman tyranny. Unlike^ the Saxons, who drove the 
 Britons into the mountains and re-peopled the land, 
 the Normans were content to hold England as a 
 conquered possession. Yet they regarded the people 
 with contempt and aversion, and any amalgamation 
 of the two races must have appeared impossible. 
 " The English were oppressed : they rebelled, were 
 subdued, and oppressed again. Their risings were 
 without concert, and desperate. They wanted men 
 fit to head them, and fortresses to sustain their revolt. 
 After a few years they sank in despair, and yielded 
 for a century to the indignities of a small body of 
 strangers without a single tumult." " The name 
 of Englishman was turned into a reproach. None 
 of that race for a hundred years were raised to any 
 dignity in the state or the church. Their language 
 
 B 
 
2 THE TYRANNY. 
 
 and the character in which it was written were 
 rejected as barbarous^." 
 
 The effect of this state of things is shewn by a 
 few statistical details. " In the days of Edward 
 the Confessor, York had 1607 inhabited houses ; 
 Oxford, 721 ; Derby, 243 ; Chester, 487. At the 
 compilation of Domesday-book, York had but 967 ; 
 Oxford, 243 ; Derb}-, 140 ; Chester, 282." 
 
 Yet this dismal period must have had its darker 
 and its brighter days. Some of the Norman kings 
 were wiser and less ruthless than others ; but still 
 the yoke grew increasingly heavy. None of these 
 rulers affected any love for England, — none of them 
 ever thought of it as a home. " Out of a reign of 
 six-and-thirty years, Henry I. spent no more than 
 five uneasy summers in his realm of England." 
 Henry II. was born in France, and died there. He 
 was in Normandy when the English crown devolved 
 upon him ; and we notice his presence there in six- 
 and-twenty different years of his reign, which ter- 
 minated by his death at Chinon in 1189. His 
 successor, Richard, out of his reign of nine years, 
 spent only a few months in his English dominions. 
 Still, these Norman dukes deemed, and justly deemed, 
 their hold upon England to be in no sense a pre- 
 carious one. The conquered kingdom was well gar- 
 risoned. Every district was occupied by a Norman 
 captain of approved valour, Avho held his estate by 
 the tenure of military service, and was answerable 
 for the tranquillity, or at least the quiet, of the ter- 
 ritory which he had received of his chief. Such 
 was the Conqueror's system, when he first took 
 
 * Hallum. 
 
THE TYRANNY. « 
 
 possession of the realm. " To Hugh de Abrincis, 
 he gave the whole county of Chester; to the earl of 
 Mortaigne, 973 manors ; to the earl of Brittany, 
 442 ; to Oclo, his half-brother, 439 ; to earl War- 
 renne, 298, with 28 towns or hamlets ; to Henry 
 de Ferrers, 222," and in like manner to many 
 others. The Braces, one of whom afterwards seized 
 upon the crown of Scotland, obtained more than 
 40,000 acres of land in Yorkshire. 
 
 These Norman knights, for their own security 
 and grandeur, immediately began to build castles on 
 their newly-acquired possessions. The poor people 
 were thus compelled to toil in the dreary labor 
 of foroino' their own chains. A chronicler of the 
 period thus describes the process : — " They filled the 
 land full of castles, — cruelly oppressing the wretched 
 people with castle-work. And when the castles were 
 built, they filled them with devils and wicked men. 
 They took those whom they supposed to have any 
 goods, and shut them up, and inflicted on them un- 
 utterable tortures*." 
 
 Doubtless, duriuo' the reio-ns of the wisest of the 
 Norman kings, and also wherever the knight or 
 baron of the district had any tinge of humane feeling, 
 the people must have experienced some relief. But, 
 on the whole, the burdens of the nation grew con- 
 tinually more intolerable. In the time of Stephen, 
 the castles had increased to the number of eleven 
 hundred. And the uniform tenor of the English 
 chronicles, from the Conquest to the death of king 
 John, is of the most mournful and despairing cha- 
 racter. Properly to understand the general despon- 
 
 * Saxon Chronicle, a.d. 1137. 
 
 b3 
 
4 THE TYRANNY. 
 
 dency, we must cast a glauce over a few of their 
 complainings : — 
 
 " England could not breathe under the burdens 
 laid upon it. The king's minions seized on and sub- 
 verted everything ; committing the most violent out- 
 rages with impunity. He ruined his neighbours by 
 extortion ; and his own people by continual fines, 
 levies, and exactions^." " God sees the wretched 
 people most unjustly oppressed: first they are de- 
 spoiled of their possessions ; and then butchered. 
 This (1124) was a grievous year-]-." *' Man rose up 
 against man, — discord was rife through the land, 
 wasting the substance of both high and low. Every 
 one spoiled his neighbour's goods. The powerful 
 oppressed the weak : death is the lot of him who 
 resists. The wealthy nobles store their castles with 
 provisions, and garrison them with armed bands ; 
 and care little for the oppressions to which the 
 wretched sufferers without are exposed :{:." " There 
 were many castles in England, each professedly 
 defending the neighbourhood ; but, really, laying it 
 waste. The garrisons seized sheep and cattle when- 
 ever they chose. Sometimes arresting such yeomen 
 as were supposed to have money, they compelled 
 them by torture to promise a ransom. It was dis- 
 tressing to see England, once the home of peace and 
 tranquillity, reduced to such a pitch of misery that 
 not even the bishops or monks could pass in safety 
 from one town to another §." " The whole aspect 
 of England presented a scene of calamity and sorrow, 
 misery and oppression. A crowd of fierce strangers, 
 
 * Henry of Huntingdon, a.d. 1100. f Sn.ro)! Chronicle. 
 
 \ Florence of Worcester. § William of Malmcsbury. 
 
THE TYRANNY. 6 
 
 who had flocked to England to take service in the 
 wars, were scattered among the people. These men 
 were devoid of all bowels of mercy or feelings of 
 humanity. Dwelling in the castles, their sole business 
 was, to devise and carry out the most flagrant out- 
 rages. As the barons who employed them were not 
 able to find them regular pay, they had recourse to 
 the neighbouring towns, or monasteries, or any other 
 places which their force enabled them to tyrannize 
 over." " On one occasion, the town of Cambridge, 
 taken by surprise, was plundered ; the churches bro- 
 ken open and rifled, and the place set on fire. This 
 was perpetrated by Geoff'rey de Mandeville ; who also 
 broke into the abbey of Ramsey, stripped the altars, 
 and expelled the monks, filled it with soldiers, and 
 made it a fortress. Yet this Geoffrey was a man of 
 note and power, who was often the king's represent- 
 ative ; holding the Tower of London, and having 
 castles in many places'^." 
 
 John must be reckoned the last of the Norman 
 kings ; and, as our great modern historian has well 
 remarked, we owe to his weakness the vast benefit 
 of a severance of the connection between England 
 and Normandy. The change was total, and of the 
 highest moment. For a century and a half, England 
 had groaned under an essentially foreign yoke. " The 
 Conqueror and his descendants to the fourth genera- 
 tion were not Englishmen, most of them were born 
 in France ; they spent the greater part of their lives 
 in France ; their ordinary speech was French ; and 
 almost every high office in their gift was filled by 
 a Frenchmanf." With John, this state of things 
 
 * Acts of King Stephen. f Macaulay, vol. i., p. 14. 
 
6 THE TYEANNY. 
 
 came to an end. For the first time for a hundred and 
 fifty years, England now received a king who was not 
 a Norman. Born at Winchester, and knowing nothing 
 of Normandy but as we ourselves know it, Henry III. 
 came by degrees to think of himself as " an English- 
 man." 
 
 Yet we cannot date the commencement of our 
 English history from the commencement of his reign ; 
 nor can we assign to him the distinction of having 
 been the first English king. His reign was a period 
 of transition ; and it was not until a considerable 
 portion of it had passed over, that he began to shew 
 a fondness for Saxon traditions, and a desire to 
 reckon himself among the descendants of Alfred and 
 Edward the Confessor. A weak, good-natured, but 
 vacillating man, he was ruled alternately by his Sa- 
 voyard and Poitevin relatives ; and the struggles and 
 perils of his reign arose chiefly from the jealousy 
 felt by the old Norman barons of the rising power 
 of these new favorites. 
 
 Lord Macaulay has well described the splendid 
 period of English historj'- which will presently come 
 before us, in the following terms : — '"It was during the 
 thirteenth century that the great English people was 
 formed. Then first appeared with distinctness that 
 Constitution which has ever since preserved its 
 identity. Then it was that the house of Commons, 
 the archetype of all the representative assemblies 
 which now meet, held its first sittings. Then it was 
 that the Common Law rose to the dignity of a science ; 
 then, that our most ancient Colleges and Halls were 
 founded ; and then was formed a language, in force, 
 in richness, and in aptitude, inferior to the tongue of 
 Greece alone." Another writer adds, that "it was 
 

 THE TYRANNY. 7 
 
 this age, of all ages, to which every Englishman 
 ought to look back with the deepest reverence. In 
 this thirteenth century our Constitution, our laws, 
 and our language, all assumed a form which left 
 nothing for future ages to do, but to improve the 
 detail." These representations are true ; but they 
 are not true of the troubled and distracted reign of 
 the third Henry. John, the basest and worst of 
 kings, performed for us the good work of setting 
 England free from Normandy ; and his weak, but 
 well-meaning son, began to regard the realm as an 
 independent monarchy ; but to achieve the great 
 works which have just been described, a more pow- 
 erful hand was needed. Henry IH. was not " the 
 first English king;" but his reign was the link or 
 isthmus between the tyranny which was expiring, 
 and the constitutional monarchy which was about 
 to commence ; and in that light we must consider 
 some of the chief events of his long and troublous 
 reign. 
 
 Henry had married, in 1236, the daughter of the 
 count of Provence. Peter Langtoft thus describes 
 her: — 
 
 " Tlie erle's dauhter of Provence ; the fairest May of life : 
 Her name is Helianoi'e, of gentle nurture, 
 Beyond the seas there was none such creature." 
 
 As Henry's reign is the first in which we hear of a 
 Poet Laureate, it is probable that we owe the idea to 
 this queen ; who was herself addicted to poetrj^ and 
 from whose pen, it is said, there is a poem still pre- 
 served in the Royal Library of Turin. 
 
 It was in 1239 that queen Eleanor gave birth to 
 her eldest son, under circumstances which seemed to 
 
8 THE TYRANNY. 
 
 mark the commencement or the approach of a new 
 era. The Norman kings were usually of Norman 
 birth ; only latterly had one or two first seen the 
 light at Oxford or at Winchester. But now, for the 
 first time after the lapse of centuries, an heir to the 
 English throne was born in the metropolis of the 
 realm. In the king's palace at Westminster, on the 
 night of June 17-18, the queen presented her husband 
 with a son, who afterwards became " the greatest 
 of his race." And now we perceive the ruling bent 
 of the king's mind, at that moment. He instantly 
 gave to this, his eldest son, the name of Edward, 
 " after the glorious king and confessor," — says the 
 old chronicler, — " Edward, whose body rests in the 
 church of St. Peter," immediately adjoining. That 
 day, the 18th of June, — afterwards to be rendered 
 doubly memorable in the annals of England, — was a 
 day of general rejoicing in the capital city. The 
 nobles of the kingdom, says Matthew Paris, hastened 
 to offer their congratulations ; and not the least 
 enthusiastic were the citizens of London, who were 
 delighted that the prince was born among them. 
 The city was illuminated, that night, with large 
 lanthorns ; bands of music were called into requisition ; 
 and, as the season was favorable, dancing and other 
 sports marked it as a day of general rejoicing. 
 
 The kind of feeling which was excited by the birth 
 of an English prince in the English metropolis, and 
 by the king's evident desire to connect the young 
 heir to the throne with his Saxon ancestors, is shewn 
 in the Worceste?- Chronicle of that date. The fact is 
 thus significantly described : — 
 
 "On the 14th day of the calends of July (June 18), 
 Eleanor, queen of England, gave birth to her eldest 
 
THE TYRANNY. 9 
 
 son, Edward ; — whose father was Henry ; whose 
 father was John ; whose father was Henry ; tvhose 
 mother was Matilda the empress ; tchose mother was 
 Matilda^ queen of England ; whose mother was Mar- 
 garet, queen oj Scotia? id ; whose father was Edward; 
 whose father was Edmund Ironside ; who was the 
 son of Etheh-ed ; who was the son of Edgar ; who 
 was the son of Edmund ; who was the son of Edward 
 the elder; who was the son of Alfred." 
 
 Thus the old chronicler, whose thoroughly English 
 feeling is everywhere apparent, passes over in utter 
 silence the Norman kings. Edward is accepted as 
 an English prince, because his lineage can be traced 
 to Edmund Ironside, to Alfred, and thus, finally to 
 Egbert, the founder of the Anglo-Saxon line of kings. 
 It was this feeling, doubtless, which generally per- 
 vaded the public mind ; and the king's hearty 
 reciprocation of it, by his instant reference to 
 Edward the Confessor, filled the people with joy; 
 called forth the songs, the dances, the illuminations, 
 of the moment ; and implanted in the popular heart' 
 and soul a predilection for this "English prince," 
 which never failed or suffered diminution, during the 
 long period of almost seventy years. 
 
 Henry's reign seems, as we have said, the isthmus 
 or link between the days of the Norman tyranny and 
 that constitutional monarchy which arose in the days 
 of his son. But it is not easy to fix a date for the 
 commencement of this transition. It would not be 
 strictly accurate to place it in the first year of his 
 reign ; for a long time passed over before any change 
 of system became apparent. Not until he had reigned 
 more than twenty years ; not until his marriage and 
 the birth of his eldest son, did Henry begin to shew 
 
10 THE TYRANNY. 
 
 a wisli to abandon the Norman traditions ; and to 
 carry his own and his people's thoughts to Anglo- 
 Saxon times. For these reasons it seems to us, that 
 one of the most rational dates that can be assigned 
 for the commencement of this great transition, is that 
 of prince Edward's birth. 
 
CHAPTER THE SECOND. 
 
 THE T E A X S I T I N. 
 A.D. 1239—1258. 
 
 We have reckoned, with the best English his- 
 torians, John to have been the last of the Norman 
 kings. We have recognized, with the same authorities, 
 the thirteenth century as the period when the England 
 of modern times first began to assume the character 
 and lineaments which she has ever since worn. But, 
 for so great a change, a period of transition was 
 necessary. That period is found in the latter portion 
 of the third Henry's reign, and some of its features 
 are first discernible about the time of the birth of his 
 eldest son. The record left of this event, by the 
 principal historian of the time, runs thus : — 
 
 "This year (a.d. 1239), Edward, the eldest son of 
 the lord Henry the king and Eleanor the queen, was 
 born at Westminster on the 17th of June, late at 
 night ; and he was called Edward, which name he 
 received after the most glorious king and confessor, 
 Edward, whose body rests in the church of St. Peter, 
 at Westminster : and, four days after, the lord 
 Otho, at that time legate, baptized him in the church 
 of the convent. He was borne to the font by the 
 lords Robert*, bishop of London, William, bishop 
 of Carlisle, the bishop elect of Norwich, the lord 
 Richard, brother of the king and earl of Cornwall; 
 
 * Or Roger, according to M. Paris. 
 
12 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester ; Henry de 
 Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex ; Simon, arch- 
 deacon of Norwich ; Almeric, earl of St. Amand ; 
 with the countess of Pembroke, and many other 
 noble ladies*." 
 
 The birth of the young prince gave occasion for 
 the exhibition of two of the worst points of Henry's 
 character, — his thoughtless fickleness, and his un- 
 kingly mendicancy. At the baptism of the young 
 prince, one of the chief persons present was Simon 
 de Montfort, son of the great Albigensic crusader. 
 He had married the king's sister, and might, there- 
 fore, very naturally claim to assist at the baptism of 
 his wife's nephew. Yet, when he presented himself, 
 a few weeks after, at the ceremony of the churching 
 of the queen, the king assailed him with the bitterest 
 reproaches ; accused him of perjury, and of gaining 
 the princess's affections unlawfully ; and, finally, 
 drove him from his presence with many threats. 
 The earl, with natural indignation, took the princess, 
 his wife, and embarked almost immediately for the 
 continent. This was only one among many quarrels 
 between Henry and his able and ambitious brother- 
 in-law. Yet, at intervals, the king appeared recon- 
 ciled to him ; trusted him, and placed him in 
 positions of power and authority. In the end, the 
 patience of the earl was exhausted ; and he, who 
 might have been Henry's most valuable subject and 
 servant, became, in the end, his rival and his master. 
 Equally foolish, and equally fatal, was the king's 
 reckless waste of, and eager craving for, money. He 
 had a taste for splendour and magnificence, without 
 
 * Matthew of Westminster. 
 
THE TRANSITION. 13 
 
 the least talent for financial affairs. Hence his 
 whole reign was one long series of pecuniary trou- 
 bles. His estates and his ordinary revenues were 
 insufficient to satisfy the greedy demands of the 
 Savoyard dependents on Eleanor the queen, and the 
 Poitevins, his half-brothers, who had been sent to 
 England by his own mother : consequently, any oppor- 
 tunity by which money could be obtained, was ea- 
 gerly seized by Henry. It was the custom of the 
 times for rich gratulatory presents to be made, on 
 occasion of such a birth as that of the prince. The 
 king sought for such presents, at this moment, with 
 such urgent avidity, as to give occasion to the re- 
 mark, — "God has given us a prince, but the king 
 sells him to us." 
 
 These two faults in Henry's character, — his rash 
 and fickle impulsiveness, and his entire inability to 
 understand the conduct of his financial aff'airs, — 
 made his reign a lengthened course of difficult}" and 
 dishonor. Yet his character was not destitute of 
 more pleasing features. His failings partly arose 
 out of a too kind and facile disposition. He was 
 not ambitious, nor tyrannical, nor revengeful. He 
 was fond of architecture and the fine arts. Several 
 of our noblest cathedrals were upreared in his reign ; 
 and England saw in him, for the first time for two 
 hundred years, a king who was both faithful to his 
 consort, and beloved by his children. 
 
 The year vfhich followed prince Edward's birth 
 was a notable one in several respects. After causing 
 an oath of fealty to the young heir to the crown to 
 be publicly taken by the principal nobility, great 
 prelates, and the leading citizens of London, the 
 king attended, first, the consecration of the Temple 
 
U THE TRANSITION. 
 
 church, as it now stands ; and, soon after, that of 
 the cathedral church of St. Paul, an enormous pile, 
 which perished in the fire of London, and which far 
 exceeded, in all its dimensions, the temple which 
 Sir Christopher Wren upreared in its room. Mean- 
 while, Westminster Abbey, during the greater part 
 of this king's reign, was slowly but constantly ad- 
 vancing. It is at this period that the " Norman " 
 style ceases ; and the " Early English " takes its 
 place. 
 
 The king's taste for Saxon recollections grew 
 more and more predominant. The name selected for 
 his second son, was that of " Edmund," the grandson 
 of King Alfred. About the same time,, also, he 
 resolved to prepare a new and splendid shrine for 
 the reception of the remains of " the glorious king 
 and confessor, Edward," after whom he had named 
 his eldest son. The work was entrusted to the best 
 artists that England could supply ; and was, for 
 centuries, one of the richest ornaments of that noble 
 church in which the last Saxon king lay buried. 
 
 A great change, then, has taken place, or rather, 
 has commenced, in the temper and modes of thought, 
 of the governing classes in England. Normandy, 
 formerly the power which governed England, is now 
 scarcely ever named ; and even Gascon}^, the remaining 
 English province of France, is neglected. Home 
 projects, £'^/^//6/f interests, have now a decided prefer- 
 ence. The king is a sincerely religious man, and the 
 church has great influence with him. Besides a pro- 
 digious expenditure on several noble cathedrals, 
 great sums are laid out, in every part of England, on 
 abbeys and monasteries of every kind. Festivals are 
 frequently mentioned, on the occasion of the com- 
 
THE TRANSITION. 15 
 
 mencement or completion of some of these works. 
 And it is evident that these gatherings, to which 
 both Saxons and Normans must have been invited, 
 must have greatly tended to that fusion of the races, 
 and abatement of the old animosities, which we know 
 to have been at this time going on. 
 
 Henry's care for his son, and his early provision 
 for his education, are indicated in some of the records 
 which still remain. As early as in the year 1242, 
 we find an order in these terms : — 
 
 " Pay out of our Treasury, to Hugh Giffard and 
 William Brun, £200, for the support of Edward, our 
 son, and his attendants residing with him at our 
 castle of Windsor*." And, in 1246, when prince 
 Edward was in his seventh year, and his brother still 
 younger, Hugh Giffard's death is noticed, and he is 
 styled " a nobleman of the household, and preceptor 
 to the princesf." It was in the following year that 
 prince Edward was seized with a dangerous illness ; 
 and the king wrote to all the religious houses near 
 London, requesting their prayers for his recovery. 
 
 We are not informed who succeeded to Hush 
 Giffard's post, but there can be no doubt that it was 
 quickly filled. Two men of great talent and ability 
 are found in attendance on the prince while in Pales- 
 tine ; and they were both churchmen. Burnell 
 became bishop of Bath and Wells, and chancellor ; 
 and Anthony Beck obtained the bishopric of Durham. 
 The first was the prince's chaplain and private secre- 
 tary ; and both are named executors in the will made 
 at Acre, in 1271, after the attempt on his life. It is 
 probable that one or both had some share in his 
 
 * Devon's Issues of the Exchequer, p. 18. f Matthew Paris. 
 
16 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 education. That liis tutor must have been a church- 
 man, we know, from the impossibility of finding a 
 competent person in any other walk of life. We find, 
 too, throughout Edward's whole course, the clearest 
 indications of such a training. He was always a 
 devout man, frequent in pilgrimages, religious retire- 
 ments, and such observances ; although he could 
 firmly withstand the pretensions of the clerical order 
 when carried to excess. In his letters, too, and in 
 his conversation, the language of Holy Scripture is 
 ever in his mouth. His reading appears to have been 
 chiefly confined to the Old Testament ; and Joshua, 
 Moses, and David, seem to have been his great 
 exemplars. Whenever his justice, in after-life, seems 
 to wear a character of sternness, we generally find 
 that some passage from the Old Testament is pre- 
 dominant in his mind. 
 
 A few years pass over, and the young prince has 
 become a youth of fine stature, frequently spoken of 
 as " Edward with the flaxen hair." The king was 
 evidently both fond and proud of him, and he seized 
 the earliest opportunity of giving him a position 
 of importance. This oj^portuuity was soon found. 
 
 Guienne, though a noble possession, had been 
 treated in a careless and neglectful spirit. For some 
 years back its government had been given to the 
 king's brother, Richard, earl of Cornwall, who is 
 chiefly remarkable in history for his enormous wealth, 
 and for his attempt on the imperial crown. Richard 
 went to Bourdeaux, and received the homage of the 
 Gascons ; and continued for some years to hold the 
 government. But, as the young prince began to rise 
 towards manhood, Henry desired his brother to relin- 
 quish his post, that he might bo able, after a while, 
 
THE TRANSITION. 17 
 
 to confer the government on his son. Earl Richard 
 shewed great reluctance ; whereupon the king revoked 
 his appointment, and expelled him from the province. 
 Needing, now, a man of ability, to hold the country 
 for him, he appointed Simon de Montfort to the govern- 
 ment. The earl held the post for several years ; 
 but the Gascons were often mutinous and discon- 
 tented, and it is probable that the weight of his hand 
 was painfully felt. The people of Bourdeaux sent 
 over their archbishop, at the head of a deputation, to 
 bring heavy accusations against their governor. Earl 
 Simon, hearing of this, and knowing the fickleness 
 and uncertainty of Henry's temper, soon followed 
 them over to England, to plead his own cause. 
 
 A day being appointed, the king sat to hear the 
 whole matter. The Gascons stated their grievances, 
 and the earl replied to their charges. Matthew Paris, 
 who probably was himself present, tells us, that the 
 earl refuted and silenced the complaining parties ; 
 but the king shewed an evident disposition to censure 
 or condemn him. The earl, feeling aggrieved, began 
 to charge the king with deserting him. The king, 
 full of anger, let fall the word "traitor." The earl, 
 " highly incensed, told the king that he lied ; and 
 added, that, but for his place and dignity, it should 
 have been an evil hour for him in which he uttered 
 such a word." " The king, who could hardly contain 
 himself for rage, would have ordered the earl to have 
 been seized, had he not been aware that the nobles 
 present would not have allowed such a step to be 
 taken. Friends on each side interrupted the dispute, 
 and so they separated." 
 
 It is one of those strangely-sudden changes which 
 mark the weakness of Henry's character, that the 
 
 c 
 
18 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 next circumstance narrated is, that the king pro- 
 posed to earl Simon to return to his government of 
 Gascony*. As this was, in effect, an acquittal of the 
 earl of all charges brought against him, he accepted 
 it without hesitation, and forthwith embarked for 
 Bourdeaux. But Henry had evidentl,y been actu- 
 ated, iu making this suggestion, chiefly by fear of 
 the earl, and a wish to secure his absence. For, as 
 soon as he had quitted England, " the king ordered 
 all the Gascons who were in London, — the arch- 
 bishop of Bourdeaux, and others who had accom- 
 panied him, — to assemble immediately. He then 
 made a public declaration, that he gave Gascony to 
 his eldest son, prince Edward. This step was very 
 acceptable to the Gascons, who at once did homage 
 and swore fealty to the young prince. He then made 
 noble presents ; and they all partook of a sumptuous 
 feast." But the practical operation of this absurd 
 proceeding was just what might have been expected. 
 The king had given his sanction to two different and 
 incompatible governments. Earl Simon had resumed 
 his authority, and he was a man of talent and of 
 martial power. But the archbishop and the rest 
 of the deputation, returning home, set the earl at 
 nought, and declared the prince to be their rightful 
 governor. The greatest confusion naturally took place. 
 It was to be expected that the Gascons would rather 
 side with their own archbishop than with a foreign 
 soldier. But the earl was fully able to maintain his 
 own cause. Soon, therefore, the Gascons sent over 
 a message to the king, that unless he came imme- 
 diately to Gascony in person, he would assuredly 
 
 * Oi' Guienne : — the two names being constantly used, in the 
 chronicles of the times, as if they were synonymous. 
 
THE TRANSITION. 19 
 
 lose all his possessions there. Henry, alarmed, sent 
 them word that he would visit them shortly ; and that 
 he, in the meanwhile, revoked Earl Simon's appoint- 
 ment, and absolved them from all obedience to him. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 6th of August, 1253, Henry, 
 after appointing the queen and earl Richard his 
 brother, guardians of the kingdom, embarked at 
 Portsmouth, accompanied by a fleet of three hundred 
 vessels, ''The prince, after his father had kissed 
 and wept over him at parting, stood sobbing on the 
 shore, and would not leave it so long as a sail could 
 be seen." The king, having taken a considerable 
 force with him, quickly regained possession of all 
 the fortified places in Gascony ; granting ; mild and 
 favorable terms to the revolted parties. But it was 
 soon seen that he had ulterior views of a larger and 
 most extensive kind. Alfonso of Castile had some 
 pretensions to G-ascony ; and there was a party in 
 the province prepared to support his claim. So soon, 
 therefore, as tranquillity had been restored, Henry 
 sent into Spain the bishop of Bath, and his favorite 
 minister, John Mansel, to propose to the Spanish 
 king an amicable arrangement of their respective 
 rights. This was to be effected by a matrimonial 
 alliance between the young prince, heir to the throne 
 of England, and the princess Eleanor, the sister 
 of king Alfonso. On such a marriage, Alfonso 
 might transfer to his sister, as a kind of dowry, 
 " whatever rights he could or might have in Gas- 
 cony." This proposal was accepted, and a special 
 treaty or charter sealed with gold, which is now 
 in the Chapter-house of "Westminster, was soon 
 brought to Henry, and received by him with great 
 delight. The Spanish king, however, with the state- 
 
 c3 
 
20 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 liness of his nation, required, " that the prince should 
 be sent to him, that he might examine into his skill 
 and knowledge, and confer knighthood upon him." 
 And thus was this royal marriage agreed upon, in 
 the absence of the parties, and without any previous 
 acquaintance having existed between them. But, of 
 all the marriages of this kind which are upon record, 
 there is probably no one which was productive of 
 more mutual happiness than this of Edward and 
 Eleanor. The qualities, both of mind and person, 
 possessed by the young prince and princess, must 
 have chiefly contributed to this result. 
 
 The king having communicated the news of his 
 success to his consort, queen Eleanor began, early 
 in 1254, to make preparations for a voyage, with her 
 son, into Grascony. One incident, which occurred in 
 the course of these preparations, seems to evince the 
 existence of a loyal attachment, either to the young 
 prince, or to the royal family generally. The people 
 of Winchelsea had prepared some ships for the ser- 
 vice of the queen ; but those of Yarmouth fitted out 
 and sent to Winchelsea a large and handsome vessel, 
 well armed, and manned with thirty skilful seamen, 
 to be at the service of the prince himself. The Win- 
 chelsea men, enraged at being outdone, got up a 
 quarrel, made a sudden attack, and succeeded in 
 burning the Yarmouth vessel. The queen, annoyed 
 at this quarrel, bat concealing her annoyance as 
 much as she could, determined to embark at Ports- 
 mouth, from which place she took her departure on 
 the 29th of May, under the guardiansliip of the 
 archbishop of Canterbury, her uncle ; having with 
 her, her two sons, Edward and Edmund ; attended 
 by forty knights, and a noble retinue. She reached 
 
THE TRANSITION. 21 
 
 Bourdeaux in safety; and from thence proceeded 
 across the Pyrenees to Burgos, where she arrived 
 on the 5th of August, 1254. Alfonso was much 
 pleased with the personal appearance and qualities of 
 the young prince. Edward's bride, Eleanor of Cas- 
 tile, was well suited to him in personal loveliness. 
 The effigies of her which are still extant, suffice to 
 place this beyond a doubt. 
 
 The marriage festivities being concluded, the 
 prince returned, with his bride, to his father at 
 Bourdeaux. The king, with natural delight, but with 
 his usual disregard of expense, prepared so grand a 
 festival for his son's reception, as to excite the in- 
 dignation of some of the English lords, who could 
 easily foresee the consequences which would follow. 
 Henry returned to England laden with debts, in- 
 curred during his stay in Gascony, which exceeded 
 300,000 marks. 
 
 Still, on his way home, he could not be restrained 
 from similar indulgences of his passion for splendour 
 and magnificence. He paid a visit to Louis of France, 
 who had only recently been released from his cap- 
 tivity in Palestine. " Henry had in his own retinue 
 a thousand horses ridden by men of dignity and rank, 
 besides waggons and sumpter-horses." Louis as- 
 signed to him for a lodging the Old Temple, in which 
 building, says Matthew Paris, " there was sufficient 
 room to lodge an army." Here, Henry's first order 
 was, that as many poor as the place would accommo- 
 date should have a feast. Next, a sumptuous banquet 
 was prepared for the kings, queens, nobles, and " all 
 comers." Matthew of Westminster says, " there were 
 present at this banquet, the two kings with their 
 queens, twenty-five dukes, twelve bishops, eighteen 
 
22 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 countesses, and, of illustrious knights, a host." The 
 next day Henry sent to the French nobles at their 
 abodes, " rich cups, gold clasps, silk belts, and other 
 princely presents." 
 
 After a few days the English took their leave, — 
 king Louis accompanying them a day's journey. 
 Henry was detained b}^ the weather at Boulogne ; 
 but reached Dover at the commencement of the new 
 year, 1255. After so many months of costly magni- 
 ficence, he had now to face an accumulation of debt 
 which, as he himself said, " it was horrible to think 
 of." After his usual manner, he immediately began 
 to demand and to exact money from the Jews, from 
 the city of London, and from the clergy. But about 
 Easter he was forced, however unwillingly, to ask an 
 aid from a parliament, summoned on the occasicm, 
 to discharge some of the debts which, as he pleaded, 
 he had been forced to incur in quieting the disturb- 
 ances in Gascony. 
 
 The young prince and princess did not come to 
 England with the king. The prince was, in some 
 sense, the king's lieutenant or governor in Gascony ; 
 and he seems to have remained there for more than 
 a twelvemonth, to make himself acquainted with the 
 province and its circumstances. The young princess 
 preceded him in her journey by about a month. She 
 landed at Dover, with a great retinue, in October, 
 1255, and reached London on the 17th of that month. 
 She was received with great state by the king, the 
 nobles, the lord mayor, and chief citizens, who went 
 out in a great procession to meet her, and who es- 
 corted her to the palace of Westminster. The prince 
 arrived in England in the last week of November, 
 and he then, with the princess, took up bis abode at 
 
THE TRANSITION. 23 
 
 the palace of the Savoy. The next Whitsuntide we 
 find him at Blythe ; where a tournament was held, 
 and where the prince, clad in light armour, attended 
 for further instruction in the laws and usages of 
 chivalry. In August, his sister, the young queen of 
 Scotland, with her husband, paid a visit to the 
 English court ; and king Henry's fondness for splen- 
 dour and magnificence was again exhibited. The 
 Scottish king and queen were first received at the 
 palace of Woodstock, where, such was the concourse 
 of distinguished guests, that tents and pavilions were 
 erected in the grounds; and Oxford and all the villages 
 round were thronged with the visitors. From Wood- 
 stock the royal party proceeded to London, where 
 the citizens received them with due honor ; and John 
 Mansel, the king's favorite minister, entertained the 
 whole court, with the chief prelates and nobles, at a 
 festival, in which the first course is stated to have 
 consisted of seven hundred dishes. 
 
 Prince Edward had now entered upon public life. 
 The king professed to give him, on his marriage, 
 Gascony, Ireland, Wales, and the earldom of Ches- 
 ter. If these provinces failed to furnish him with 
 a revenue of 15,000 marks, (£10,000,) the king un- 
 dertook to make up the deficiency. As the money of 
 those days requires to be multiplied by fifteen, to 
 bring it to our present value, this was, evidently, 
 a noble revenue. But then, on the other hand, the 
 claims upon a prince who was regarded as the ruler 
 of Gascony, the owner of the earldom of Chester, 
 and in some sort the chief lord of both Wales and 
 Ireland, must have been both unceasing and large. 
 
 This soon became painfully clear. In conferring 
 such powers and honors on the young prince, Henry 
 
24 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 liad indulged two very distinct and different feelings. 
 He was proud of his son, and loved to place him in 
 a position of honor and authority ; but he also was 
 very ready to shift any trouble or perplexity from 
 his own shoulders to the shoulders of another. And 
 in 1257, the year after the prince's settlement in 
 England, the Welsh made a new inroad, breaking 
 into the adjacent counties of England, and spreading 
 devastation wherever they went. Edward was then 
 in his eighteenth year, and he at once carried the 
 news to his father, of the invasion of his earldom of 
 Chester. The king, with his usual dislike of trouble, 
 exclaimed, " What is it to me ? — the land is yours ! 
 Exert yourself, — gain fame in your youth, — make 
 your enemies fear you ; as for me, I am occupied 
 with other matters." 
 
 Thus called on, the prince began to endeavour to 
 meet the occasion. He borrowed of his uncle, the 
 earl of Cornwall, 4,000 marks, and set to work to em- 
 body a military force. He was now often seen at the 
 head of two hundred horsemen. But all that he could 
 do was quite inadequate to cope with the power of 
 Wales. The Welsh had in arms, says Matthew Paris, 
 nearly 30,000 men, including five hundred knights, 
 well armed ; and they had also the advantage of being 
 able, whenever they chose, to retreat into mountain- 
 fastnesses, which to the English were quite inac- 
 cessible. Thence, when it suited them, they poured 
 into Cheshire or Herefordshire, wasting everything 
 with fire and sword. It seems probable that, once 
 or twice, the young prince, with a few hundred men- 
 at-arms, tried to stop their progress, and was over- 
 powered. This, at least, is certain, that during the 
 greater part of Henry's reign, the Welsh, under 
 
THE TRANSITION. 26 
 
 Llewellyn, were formidable and dreaded neighbours 
 to all the neighbouring parts of England. 
 
 Henry, meanwhile, with that want of judgment 
 and discretion which marked his whole course, in- 
 stead of concerning himself with the good government 
 of his own kingdom, was busied in forming wild 
 schemes with reference to France. The Welsh wasted 
 with fire and sword his western border ; but he was 
 occupied in laying plans for the recovery of Nor- 
 mandy, which had been lost half a century before 
 by the folly of his father. "The king sent," says 
 the chronicler, " the bishop of Worcester, the bishop 
 elect of Winchester, the earl of Leicester, the earl 
 marshal, and Peter of Savoy, on a special embassy 
 to the king of France, to make some arrangements 
 for the restoration of the possessions which belonged 
 to the crown of England in time of old." Evidently, 
 to expect that France, strong and at peace, would 
 quietly relinquish a noble province like Normandy, 
 was utterly unreasonable. We read, without sur- 
 prise, that " the embassy met with nothing but hard 
 speeches and threats, and a flat refusal " even to 
 entertain the question. Louis, however, was so far 
 alarmed by the application, as to order all the Nor- 
 man castles to be put into a state of defence ; and 
 committed to the care of trustworthy persons; al- 
 though England was in no condition to undertake, at 
 that moment, an invasion of France. 
 
 It is to this period, doubtless, that we must refer 
 the MS. ballad which is found in the Royal Library 
 at Paris*, some of the verses of which are as 
 follows : — 
 
 * Bibl. du Eoi. No. 7218, fo. 220, v°. 
 
26 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 " De ma ray d'Ingleters qui fu a bon naviaus, 
 Chivaler vaelant, hardoiiin, et 16aus, 
 Et d'Adouart sa filz qui fi blont sa chaviaus, 
 Mai covint que je faites .j. dit troute noviaus." 
 
 Further on, Henry says — 
 
 " (P)ar la .v. plais a Diex, Parris fout vil mult grant 
 II i a .i. chapel dont je fi coetant; 
 Je le ferra portier, a. .i. charrier roUant, 
 A Saint Amont a Londres toute droit en estant. 
 
 " Quant j'arra soz Parris men6 tout me naviaus, 
 Je ferra le moustier Saint Dinis la Chanciaus 
 Corronier d'Adouart soz sa blonde chaviaus. 
 La voudra vous toer de vaches a porciaus. 
 
 " Je crai que vous verra la endret grosse fest, 
 Quant d'Adouart arra corron^ France test. 
 11 1'a bien asservi, ma fil ; il n'est pas best ; 
 II fout buen chivaler, hardouin, et honest*." 
 
 Henry's fondness for his son, as well as his utter 
 want of judgment and discretion, is apparent in this 
 wild scheme of setting him on the throne of France. 
 The sad reality was in terrible contrast to this 
 dreamy romance. While he was scheming the con- 
 quest of France, the little principality of Wales was 
 setting England at defiance. The prince was left to 
 defend Chester and Hereford from their attacks, with 
 no other force than a few hundreds of disorderly men- 
 at-arms ; and with no funds even for the support of 
 this petty force, except what he could raise by 
 pledging his lordships to his uncle. The king at last 
 awakened to the danger ; he called together his mili- 
 
 * See Political Songs. Camden Society. P. 68, 
 
THE TRANSITION. 27 
 
 tary tenants, and proceeded with something like an 
 army to seek out and chastise the Welsh. But their 
 usual tactics were immediately resorted to. They 
 retreated into their mountain-fastnesses ; and the 
 English army, after suffering much from cold and 
 hunger, was forced to withdraw. There can be no 
 doubt, however, that it was the experience gained in 
 these unsatisfactory stru2:gles, that afterwards ena- 
 bled Edward, at the beginning of his own reign, to 
 deal with the Welsh in the masterly and triumphant 
 manner which we shall presently have to describe. 
 
 Another incident which occurred about this time, 
 throws light upon the strongly-contrasted characters 
 of the king and his son. Henry had professed to 
 give Gascony over to the prince's care and govern- 
 ment ; his principal object being to rid himself of 
 trouble. But his officers did not withdraw, but con- 
 tinued as before to seize quantities of wine at Bour- 
 deaux for the kins-'s use. The Gascons sent over to 
 the prince to make complaints, and to ask redress. 
 Edward went at once to his father; and declared 
 that " he would not tolerate such proceedings." 
 " The king," adds the chronicler, " with a deep sigh, 
 exclaimed, '■ My own flesh and blood assail me ! — the 
 times of my grandfather, against whom his own 
 children rebelled, are returning!'" But the prince, 
 certain of the justice of the complaint, was firm, and 
 Henry was forced to promise that these wrong- 
 doings should cease. 
 
 These two princes, the father and the son, were 
 each now taking that place, and manifesting that cha- 
 racter, which they were respectively to occupy in the 
 page of history. The weaknesses of the king, his 
 impulsive unguardedness and want of control, were 
 
28 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 becoming more and more manifest ; while his son 
 was rapidly maturing, in judgment, discretion, firm- 
 ness of character, and an unvarying love of justice. 
 
 Henry's unkingly acts, his rashness, and his mean- 
 ness, frequently manifest themselves at this period. 
 In a council held in London in 1255, he had an 
 altercation with the earl marshal, whom in his 
 passion he called " a traitor." The earl replied, 
 as Leicester had done on a former occasion, by 
 giving the king the lie ; and by challenging him to 
 say what offence he had committed, or with what 
 sentence he could visit him. " I can send and seize 
 your corn," said the king, " and thresh and sell it ! " 
 ^'Yes!" replied the earl, ''and I can send j^ou the 
 heads of the threshers!" On another occasion, one 
 of the judges. Sir Henry de Bath, had been so fla- 
 grantly corrupt, that he was accused in a parliament 
 held in London, of having seized a man's estate to 
 his own use ; and of having released a convicted 
 criminal for a sum of money. The judge knew his 
 case to be so indefensible, that he came to the parlia- 
 ment attended by many powerful friends ; one of 
 wdiom, a knight, offered wager of battle to any of his 
 accusers. In the course of the altercation the kins-'s 
 passions were so roused, that he exclaimed, " If any 
 one shall kill Henry of Bath, he shall be quit of 
 his death, and I declare him quit of the same!" 
 But Mansel, the king's chief minister, interposed, 
 saying, that the king, doubtless, on reflection, would 
 be sorry for that speech. Finally, the judge was 
 permitted to depart, and on paying a heavy line, he 
 was pardoned. 
 
 And, when even the judges of the land were thus 
 corrupt, it was inevitable that disorders should 
 
THE TRANSITION. 29 
 
 abound in other quarters. We learn, therefore, with- 
 out any surprise, that " the whole county of Hamp- 
 shire swarmed with felons and murderers;" until, 
 at last, " the king was obliged himself to sit on the 
 bench of justice at Winchester, trying and sentencing 
 the offenders ; many of whom were wealthy, and 
 some of them his own servants." 
 
 Yet there were brighter, as well as darker, parts 
 of the picture. Churches, abbeys, and cathedrals, 
 rose on every side. In 1258, the splendid cathedral 
 of Salisbury was consecrated. "On the day following 
 the feast of Michaelmas " savs Matthew Paris, " the 
 church of Salisbury was dedicated by Boniface, arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, in the presence of the king, 
 and a numerous body of the prelates ; the bishop 
 providing entertainment for all that came." The 
 foundation of the church had been laid in the fourth 
 year of Henry's reign, a.d. 1220. We have already 
 remarked the tendency of these celebrations to help 
 forward that amalgamation of the races which was 
 now going on. The consecration of a cathedral, — 
 the ordinary services of a cathedral, — the festivities 
 attending its consecration, — could not be confined 
 to a few Norman knights and their retainers. The 
 people who thronged together on these occasions by 
 thousands, must have been the English people, who 
 were chiefly Saxon. And a reign of more than fifty 
 years, spent in the cultivation of such tastes as 
 these, must have done much to produce that fusion 
 of races which first begins to be evident in the 
 conflict which will form the subject of the next 
 chapter. 
 
 Meanwhile, however, the weaknesses and foibles 
 of this weak but well-meaning king, were rapidly 
 
80 THE TRANSITION. 
 
 bringing on that conflict. During all the latter 
 half of his reign, Henry was deeply involved in debt. 
 Repeatedly did he bring his wants and distresses 
 before councils and parliaments ; and at last it 
 became a common thing for him to receive complaints 
 and reproaches instead of money. Thus, at a par- 
 liament held in 1248, "the king was severely blamed," 
 says Matthew Paris, " for the indiscreet way in which 
 he invited foreigners into the kingdom, and for 
 lavishing his property and revenues on them. Also, 
 that he appointed to the great offices, only such 
 persons as served his pleasure in every way, not 
 seeking the public weal, but only their personal 
 advantage." This discontent with the king's con- 
 duct, and with the conduct of his ministers, led the 
 parliament, more than once or twice, to refuse the 
 king's application, and to resolve upon granting no 
 " aid " or " benevolence." These refusals often drove 
 Henry to downright mendicancy. At one time he 
 would write to men of substance in such terms as 
 these : — " I am a poor man, and entirely destitute of 
 money ; and I find it necessary to ask for assistance. 
 I do not exact anything, but ask it as a favor. Who- 
 ever will do me this kindness, to him I will requite 
 it as opportunity offers ; while, whoever refuses me, 
 to him will I also give a denial in my turn." At 
 other times he would economize in his household 
 expenses, by paying visits, with the queen, to nobles 
 or other wealthy persons ; all of whom were made to 
 understand, that the king expected some rich i)resent, 
 when he did a subject so much honor. 
 
 During all the latter half of Henry's reign, he 
 suffered every kind of humiliation from pecuniaiy 
 embarrassment. His applications to councils or 
 
THE TRANSITION. 31 
 
 parliaments were repeatedly refused or sparingly 
 and grudgingly responded to. They reproached him 
 with his prodigality, and his wasteful fondness for 
 ''the foreigners." He acknowledged his fault, and 
 promised amendment. They sometimes even required 
 an oath. He gave it ; but when the necessity was 
 over, the pledge was forgotten, and the revenues of 
 the crown were again lavished on these favorites. 
 " It was not that Henry was by inclination a vicious 
 man ; he had received strong religious impressions : 
 — though fond of parade, he avoided every scandalous 
 excess ; and his charity to the poor, and attention to 
 public worship, were deservedly admired. But his 
 judgment was weak, and his will, it must be added, 
 was often at the command of others." 
 
CHAPTER THE THIRD. 
 
 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 A.D. 1258—1967. 
 
 We have spoken of Henry's reign as, unquestion- 
 ably, a period of transition — a period during which 
 the old Norman tyranny gradually disappeared, and 
 that system of constitutional law began to uprear 
 itself, which has, in the course of five hundred years, 
 made England 
 
 " A land of settled government ; 
 A land of just and old renowTi ; 
 Where Freedom broadens slowly do-^Ti, 
 From precedent to precedent." 
 
 It was in this thirteenth century, — again to cite the 
 testimony of the most popular of modern historians, 
 — that the England in which we live, with its con- 
 stitution, laws, language, and institutions, first began 
 to rise into being. 
 
 Yet it would be an error were we to pretend 
 to find more than the first indications of such an ap- 
 proaching change in the reign of this weak though 
 well-meaning king ; and even these faint indications 
 are not perceptible until the middle of Henrj^'s reign. 
 We have spoken of the birth of his two sons, and 
 have remarked their baptism with Saxon names, as 
 a circumstance indicating the bent of the king's 
 mind, about the twenty-fifth year of his reign. Yet 
 
THE CONVULSION. S3 
 
 we can hardly admit the claim, which was advanced 
 for Henry in his epitaph, of being " truly an Eng- 
 lishman," in the face of the notorious fact, that 
 a fearful conflict arose, between the fortieth and 
 fiftieth years of his long reign, — which conflict was 
 brought on chiefly by the king's unconcealed prefer- 
 ence for " foreigners." 
 
 And what a strange and startling fact is this, 
 and how pregnant will it be found, when thought- 
 fully considered, with consequences of momentous 
 import. For several years the king never met 
 his council or parliament without being reproached 
 with his predilection for " foreigners." What a 
 transition, or rather, what a total change, is here 
 implied ! 
 
 For, had not England been ruled, in the most 
 absolute manner, for nearly two centuries past, by 
 those whose greatest boast it was, that they were 
 in all respects, foreigners ? Out of seven kings 
 who succeeded each other, in turn, upon the throne 
 of England, had not all but one received birth in 
 France ? And among their followers, during all these 
 generations, was not the name of Norman deemed a 
 boast, and that of Englishman, a contumely ? We 
 are reminded that " May I become an Englishman if 
 I do!" was their ordinary imprecation ; and "Do you 
 take me for an Englishman?" their most indignant 
 denial*. What a wondrous change then, must have 
 taken place among these men, when they raised the 
 cry of " England for the English," and banded them- 
 selves together to expel " all foreigners." 
 
 Yet the chief motives for this change were suffi- 
 
 * Macaulay, vol. i. ch. i. 
 
34 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 ciently evident. The Delacys, Bigods, Boliuns, Fer- 
 rerses, and others, who had shared with the Conqueror 
 in the invasion and partition of England, had now 
 been settled in their respective possessions for Dearly 
 two hundred years ; and, latterly, their intercourse 
 with Normandy had nearly ceased. England had 
 gradually become their home; the king of England 
 was their captain and leader ; and the land of England 
 belonged to the king and to them. It became, there- 
 fore, increasingly easy for them to forget the ancient 
 origin of their houses, and to think and speak of 
 themselves as Englishmen. Meanwhile, causes of 
 alienation between the king, their feudal chief, and the 
 principal Norman barons, had occurred ; and new 
 rivals, recently imported from the continent, had 
 begun to excite their envy and resentment. John 
 had quarrelled with the barons, and Henry, his son, 
 had inherited some of his feelings of dislike and 
 dread for these old Norman chiefs. His marriao'e 
 with Eleanor of Provence led to a large influx of 
 her Savoyard connections into England ; and his 
 mother, the widow of John, who had married the 
 count of Poiteau, sent her sons and other Poitevins 
 to seek a share in the honors and advantages of the 
 court of England. The king, facile and good-natured, 
 allowed these new favorites to monopolize all the 
 favors which he had it in his power to bestow ; and 
 the great barons of England found themselves rivalled 
 and insulted at court, by those whom they deemed 
 nothing more than '' foreign adventurers." 
 
 Much of the indignation expressed by them was 
 doubtless genuine and sincere ; but in some cases it 
 was evidently simulated. The great leader of the 
 discontented barons, Simon de Montfort, was, to all 
 
THE CONVULSION. 35 
 
 intents and purposes, a foreigner ; yet he was one of 
 the foremost to raise the cry against the Sayojarcls, 
 the Poitevins, and the Italians. But his own parents 
 were French, and the only connection of his family 
 with England arose from the marriage of his grand- 
 father, Simon the Bald, with a daughter of Blanch- 
 maines, earl of Leicester ; after which marriage one 
 of the sons always set up a claim to that earldom. 
 This marriage took place in 1165 ; and a son of 
 Simon the Bald, after trying to gain the earldom of 
 Leicester, took up the crusade against the Albigeois, 
 and died count of Toulouse. His fourth son became 
 a soldier of fortune, and, calling himself " Earl of 
 Leicester," came to England, where he gained, 
 clandestinely, the affections and the hand of king 
 Henry's sister. The real titles and estates of the 
 family were in Evreux and Montfort ; and all of 
 them were, in England, " foreigners." 
 
 We cannot, at the distance of five hundred years, 
 pretend to form a clear and positive opinion as to 
 earl Simon's character. He enjoyed, in his lifetime, 
 vast influence and popularity ; and was elevated by 
 the people, after his death, to the rank of a martyr. 
 He was, at least in profession, a very devout man ; 
 and he probably resembled Cromwell in many of the 
 chief features of his character. Both were men of 
 great talent and force of intellect ; and both were 
 opposed to well-meaning but weak and deceitful 
 kings. It may be pleaded, as some extenuation of 
 their o-uilt, that circumstances led them into courses 
 which they never seriously purposed to take; and 
 that, like Hazael, if the future could have been pre- 
 dicted to them, each would have exclaimed, " Is thy 
 servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" 
 
 D 3 
 
86 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 It was one of Henry's chief misfortunes, growing, 
 evidently, out of his mental weakness, that he never 
 succeeded in forming a cordial alliance with this great 
 earl. There was that evident shrinking, on Henry's 
 part, which is commonly manifested by weak minds 
 when brought into contact with energetic and power- 
 ful ones. The chroniclers tell us, tliat on one occasion, 
 when the king, in his barge, had embarked on the 
 Thames for a water-excursion, a thunderstorm came 
 on, which obliged him to seek a refuge. He landed 
 at the palace of the bishop of Durham, which was 
 then near the Strand. It so happened that earl 
 Simon was staying with the bishop ; and on the 
 approach of the king's barge, the earl went out to 
 meet it ; saying to the king, " There is nothing to 
 fear now, my lord, the storm is passing over." The 
 king, annoyed at meeting him, exclaimed, with his 
 usual rashness, " I fear thunder and lightning not a 
 little ; but I fear yon more than all the thunder and 
 lightning in the world!" To which the earl replied, 
 "It is strange, and most unjust, my lord, that you 
 should fear me, your real friend ; who have been 
 always faithful to you and yours ; — much rather 
 should you fear your flatterers, who are your 
 greatest enemies — in fact, your destroyers." 
 
 The time was now come, when upon the friend- 
 ship or enmity of this great leader the king's safety 
 and happiness would chiefly depend. We have al- 
 ready mentioned the increasing insolence of the 
 Welsh, and the failure of Henry's expedition against 
 them. Early in 1258, the king summoned a "con- 
 cilium" in London, to consider the state of affairs in 
 Wales, and to adopt measures for another campaign. 
 Thither came all the discontented barons, — the earl 
 
THE CONVULSION. 37 
 
 marslial, and earl Simon, both of whom had already 
 given Henry the lie to bis face, with many others 
 who had received affronts or injuries at his hands. 
 On the other side, stood in the front, those whose 
 aid was a source of weakness to the king, — William 
 of Valence, earl of Pembroke, the chief of the 
 Poitevins, with his brethren, all of them hated by 
 the Norman lords. They were detested for their 
 arrogance, and envied for their wealth. For, while 
 the king was always poor, and always distressed for 
 want of means, his nearest favorites, — the earl 
 of Cornwall, the earl of Pembroke, John Mansel, 
 and others, — were all enormously rich. A quarrel 
 might therefore be looked for ; and the young prince, 
 then not quite nineteen years of age, was likely to be 
 introduced to scenes of eager and envenomed po- 
 litical conflict. 
 
 The king explained the state of affairs in Wales ; 
 and urged the necessity of some immediate provision 
 for the ensuing campaign. William of Valence fol- 
 lowed, and bitterly complained of the ravages of the 
 Welsh in his county of Pembroke. The king, with 
 his usual thoughtlessness, turned upon his own fa- 
 vorite, and exclaimed, " Ah ! my dear brother, why 
 do you not help me with some of those hoarded 
 treasures of yours, and so relieve me from one of my 
 greatest difficulties ? " Pembroke, not relishing this 
 personal appeal, turned the discussion another way. 
 Earl Simon was understood to be in communication 
 with Llewellyn of Wales, and Pembroke replied, that 
 he " should not fear the Welsh, if it were not for the 
 traitors at home, by whom they were abetted and en- 
 couraged." His glance was probably directed to- 
 wards Simon de Montfort, who instantly exclaimed, 
 
38 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 "Who do you call traitors ?" "You, first of all!" 
 replied Pembroke, with equal pride and anger. Lei- 
 cester rushed upon him ; and if the king and the 
 other lords had not thrown themselves between, 
 the two earls would have joined in deadlj^ encounter 
 in the royal presence. 
 
 Such a scene as this was not likely to abate the 
 anger of the confederated barons, who had already 
 proposed to themselves " the expulsion of the Poite- 
 vins " as one of their principal objects. The pride 
 and arrogance of William of Valence made that a 
 stedfast resolution which until then had only been 
 doubtfully contemplated. But the plans of earl 
 Simon and his friends were not yet sufficiently ma- 
 tured. A proposal was therefore made, which was 
 agreed to on both sides, that the meeting should 
 be adjourned for a few weeks ; and that it should 
 reassemble at Oxford, which would be fifty miles 
 nearer to Wales, on the feast of St. Barnabas. On 
 that day, the 13th of June, the barons agreed to 
 meet the king, and to bring with them tlieir proper 
 military contingents, so as to be prepared for a 
 Welsh campaign. And so the winter, or London, 
 sitting of this "concilium" ended. 
 
 The 13th of June saw all the parties again in 
 presence of each other at Oxford. The barons had 
 kept their word, and had assembled their retainers, 
 and Oxford found itself suddenly a camp. One ac- 
 count states the force assembled by the barons at 
 60,000 men ; but this is doubtless an exaggerated 
 estimate. Still, whether we suppose their followers 
 to have been 30,000 or 15,000 — either number would 
 place the king wholly in their power. The want of 
 means had rendered it in)possible for Henry to bring 
 
THE CONVULSION. 39 
 
 together an army, even had he been so disposed ; 
 but whatever his suspicion or dread of earl Simon 
 might have been, we discover no trace of any fore- 
 sight on his part of the grave events which were 
 about to take place. Earl Simon and his supporters, 
 however, came to Oxford well prepared, both to 
 dictate a new system of government to the king, and 
 also to compel Ms performance of the terms agreed 
 upon, so soon as such an agreement should have 
 been adopted. They followed, to a considerable ex- 
 tent, the course taken by the barons in the preceding 
 reign. John had been obliged to submit to be placed 
 under the control of a council of twenty-five barons. 
 Henry was required to resign all substantial power 
 into the hands of a council of twenty-four. There 
 was a greater apparent liberality exhibited in the 
 present case, inasmuch as Henry was permitted to 
 name twelve out of the twentj^-four ; but then, on 
 the other hand, the cession of all real power into the 
 hands of this new council was more complete, in the 
 present instance, than it had been in the case of the 
 treaty of Runnymede. Unlimited authority was 
 given to these twenty-four barons ; and the king was 
 required to swear that he would confirm all their 
 ordinances. Had he been able to bring against their 
 chosen twelve an equal number of men of influence 
 who were attached to him^self, the king might at 
 least have shared in the government. But scarcely 
 any of the nobles of the kingdom adhered to him. 
 His foolish fondness for his half-brothers, the Poite- 
 vins, and for the queen's Savoyard relations, had so 
 alienated the Norman lords, that all the authority of 
 the new council was practically wielded by earl Simon 
 and his friends. 
 
40 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 The testing question in all these discussions con- 
 stantly was, the possession of the castles. To have 
 these was to have power; to get the king's castles 
 into their own hands, was to have the authority of 
 the crown transferred to them ; and the application 
 of this test soon effected one of their purposes — the 
 expulsion of the Poitevins. 
 
 The king appears to have surrendered his sceptre 
 without a struggle ; we do not hear of an hour's 
 resistance on his part. The next person called on 
 was the king's brother, the earl of Cornwall. He 
 was in Germany, but his son was present. Young 
 Henry, however, avowed his unwillingness to give in 
 his own adhesion, or his father's, till he should have 
 taken the earl's pleasure. The barons consented to 
 a delay of forty days, peremptorily declaring, how- 
 ever, that if the earl did not then swear to the 
 "Provisions," he should not retain an acre of land 
 in England. 
 
 The Poitevins, who were the parties cliiefly 
 aimed at, were next called on. They declared with 
 one voice, that they would not swear to the Provi- 
 sions ; nor would they give up one castle or one 
 manor that the king had bestowed upon them. 
 
 But earl Simon knew his power, and he was not 
 disposed to shew any tenderness in his dealings 
 with these insolent favorites. Meeting Pembroke's 
 arrogance with equal sternness, he said, " Know for 
 a certainty, and as a thing beyond all doubt, that 
 you shall either give up the castles you hold of the 
 king, or lose your head." 
 
 When matters had come to this pass, it was a 
 natural thing for the Poit(wins to resolve upon 
 flight. In Oxford, surrounded on all sides by the 
 
THE CONVULSION. 41 
 
 barons and their armed iDauds, they were not safe 
 for a single hour. Veiling their intentions, therefore, 
 under a convenient pretext, they fled, making for 
 TTinchester, of which see, one of their own number, 
 Ethelmar, was bishop. In his castle they hoped to 
 find a refuge. But, the moment their flight was 
 discovered, the barons sent a force in pursuit. They 
 were overtaken, and forced to consent to leave the 
 realm. '' They were conveyed to the sea-shore, and 
 put on board ship, having first been made to swear, 
 not to compass the hurt of England, by themselves or 
 others." As soon as this expulsion had been efi'ected, 
 their castles and estates were es-cheated and taken 
 into the king's (/. e., the barons') hands. Prince 
 Edward was just entering his twentieth year when 
 these scenes took place. We may easil}^ imagine the 
 ano'Liish thev must have caused him. His father 
 humiliated, and in all but the name, deposed ; his 
 uncles banished, and their estates confiscated ; the 
 throne itself visibly tottering. He had warm affec- 
 tions, and must have endured unutterable pain, while 
 all these calamities were falling upon his family. 
 Yet, on the other hand, his mind was one distin- 
 guished by its remarkable uprightness and sagacity. 
 He could not be blind to his father's manv faults and 
 transgressions, or deny the justice of many of the 
 accusations of earl Simon and his supporters. We 
 know of no finer instance of entire uprightness, than 
 his conduct at this crisis shewed. First, " the lord 
 Edward, being brought to it icith great difficidti/^ 
 submitted himself to the ordinance and provision of 
 the barons." But, secondly, when he so submitted, 
 he did it honestly and in good faith; not in duplicity, 
 purposing, like his father, or Charles I, four centuries 
 
42 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 afterwards, to evade the fulfilment of his engage- 
 ments. Hard as he felt these conditions to be, he 
 refused, as we shall presently see, to avail himself of 
 the papal brief, which absolved him from his oath ; 
 and when his father took a sinister course, he sided 
 with Leicester against him. We can imagine no 
 more signal instance of uprightness, than was given 
 by this young prince ; when, after witnessing earl 
 Simon's triumph over his father, and his invasion of 
 the independence of the crown, he actually con- 
 curred with the earl in many of his subsequent 
 proceedings, and for the sake of truth and justice, 
 supported the rebellious lord, even against his own 
 parent. 
 
 The prince having yielded, and the Poitevins 
 having been sent out of the country, the earl 
 Warrenne, the only nobleman of any weight who 
 adhered to the king, gave in his submission also, and 
 so the contest, for the time, was ended. 
 
 " The Provisions of Oxford," Sir Francis Palgrave 
 observes, "virtually deprived the king of the royal 
 authority. He still, indeed, retained the crown, and 
 all public enactments ran in his name ; but all the 
 powers of government were vested in the barons. 
 These Provisions confirmed Magna Charta ; regu- 
 lated the free seisin of property ; forbade the marriage 
 of wards with aliens, and the wasteful grants of lands 
 to foreigners ; and required that all offices of state, 
 and the charge of the castles, should be given to 
 Englishmen onlg^ 
 
 And forthwith warrants were issued, ordering the 
 constables of the castles of Dover, Northampton, 
 Nottingham, Corfe, Scarborough, Hereford, Exeter, 
 Sarum, Hadleigh, Winchester, Porchester, Bridge- 
 
THE CONVULSION. 48 
 
 north, Oxford, Sherburne, Bamborough, Newcastle, 
 Rochester, Gloucester, Honiton, Devizes, and the 
 Tower of London, to deliver them up to the new 
 commandants therein named. The names of some 
 of the former constables, '' Ebulo de Geneur, Walter 
 Bruges, Imbert Pugeis, Robert de Paytenin, Elias de 
 Rabaine, Nicholas de Mel, Thomas le Don, Henry de 
 Pending, Jacob le Savage, Nicholas de Molis, William 
 de Trubieville," &c., shew sufficiently that the royal 
 castles had not been in the hands of '^ Englishmen." 
 
 Hugh Bigod was appointed grand justiciary — 
 an office apparently" resembling that of our present 
 lord chancellor, in being set over the whole admi- 
 nistration of the laws. The triumphant and dominant 
 barons now separated, having effected, for a time at 
 least, a revolution. 
 
 We hear nothing of the expedition into Wales, 
 which had been the pretext for this gathering of 
 armed forces at Oxford. Probably, earl Simon, who 
 kept up a communication with the Welsh prince, was 
 able to assure the twenty-four barons, that as long as 
 he had the direction of affairs, there would be no 
 Welsh invasion. 
 
 The barons re-assembled in October, in London, 
 where they "sat for about a month, meeting every 
 day in consultation, well armedr The support of 
 the city of London had been already secured; a 
 special deputation, consisting of earl Simon, the earl 
 marshal, and others, having met the mayor and alder- 
 men of the city at Guildhall, on the 22nd of July, 
 who then affixed the city seal to the Provisions of 
 Oxford. At the meeting of the barons, in October, 
 Philip Lovel, the king's treasurer, was dismissed, and 
 John de Crachale, archdeacon of Bedford, was 
 
44 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 appointed in his room. Lovel died the Christmas 
 following, it was supposed of a broken heart. A 
 great many other persons holding office in the 
 exchequer were also discharged, and their places 
 filled up by the council of the barons. On the 
 11th of October, "the Provisions of Oxford" were 
 solemnly proclaimed in every county, in Latin, 
 French, and English. One writer considers this 
 the first time that the English language was used 
 in any public document*. 
 
 About Christmas, the barons were considerably 
 disturbed by news of the expected return of earl 
 Kichard, the king's brother, who had been elected 
 king of the Eomans, and who, having been abroad at 
 the time of the meeting of the parliament at Oxford, 
 had continued absent ever since. He had large 
 landed possessions, and naturally desired to revisit 
 England to look after his affairs. The council of 
 barons feared that he would return with a body of 
 followers — possibly with one or more of the Poi- 
 tevins — and would refuse to adhere to the Provisions 
 of Oxford ; thus becoming the leader of a malcontent 
 or royalist party. They sent, therefore, a deputation 
 to meet the earl at Witsand, in Flanders, and to ask 
 of him a pledge not to interfere in public affairs, and 
 also some information as to the length of his stay. 
 At first the earl peremptorily refused to give any 
 such pledge, or any assurance as to the duration of 
 his visit. The barons, therefore, began to collect 
 a fleet to intercept him at sea, and a body of forces 
 to oppose his landing. The earl then began to hesi- 
 tate, and the king was induced to write to him on the 
 
 * The Barons' War, by W. H. Blaauw : p. 63. 
 
THE CONVULSION. 45 
 
 18th of January, 1259, to exhort him to comply with 
 the demands of the barons. Earl Richard accord- 
 ingly engaged to take the oath which the barons 
 tendered, immediately on his landing. He was then 
 allowed to land at Dover, which he reached at the 
 end of January ; but into that castle he was not ad- 
 mi tted, although he was accompanied only by his 
 wife, his son, and a retinue of eight knights. The 
 king met him on his landing, and they proceeded at 
 once to Canterbury, where he was entertained by the 
 archbishop ; and the following day took an oath in 
 the Chapter-house, in the presence of the barons, 
 " faithfully to join in reforming the kingdom of Eng- 
 land, and effectually to aid in expelling all disturbers 
 of the kingdom out of it." 
 
 Earl Simon, it was remarked with wonder, had 
 been absent from all these later discussions, having 
 suddenlv withdrawn to France. Already had a 
 dissension broken out among the reforming party, — 
 Leicester accusing Gloucester of insincerity, and the 
 latter '-retorting with insulting speeches, — the mat- 
 ter nearly terminating in bloodshed." One result 
 of this disagreement was the failure of a treaty with 
 France, which had been brought to the verge of a 
 completion ; but which, as the earl of Gloucester 
 alleged, the claims of the countess of Leicester to 
 certain rights in Normandy prevented from being 
 completed. 
 
 In July 1259, "Hugh Bigod, the high justiciary, 
 with Roger de Turkelby and Gilbert de Preston, 
 commenced the circuit of England, dispensing jus- 
 tice to all men according to their deserts." In order 
 to prepare the work for them, four knights had been 
 appointed by the Oxford Provisions, to act as inquest- 
 
46 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 men or grand jurymen, in each county, to discover 
 and bring before the justiciaries all excesses or 
 trespasses and wrongs done within the realm. This 
 was probably the chief benefit conferred on the 
 community at large by these famous Oxford Pro- 
 visions. 
 
 That there was some backwardness on the part 
 of the barons in giving full effect to the reforms 
 which they had promised to the people, is tolerably 
 clear. " The truth was, that the chiefs were un- 
 willing to divest themselves of the authority which 
 they had usurped. They had distributed among 
 their partisans all the lay offices and ecclesiastical 
 benefices in the gift of the crown ; they received the 
 principal part of the royal revenues ; and shared 
 among themselves the produce of the escheats, ward- 
 ships, and marriages of the king's tenants." But for 
 reforms which limited their own feudal authority, they 
 appeared to feel very little inclination. The Annalist 
 of Burton gives us the following sketch of some 
 circumstances which took place in a "concilium " or 
 parliament held towards the end of the year 1259. 
 At that parliament we are told, — 
 
 " The community of the bachelery of England 
 signified to the lord Edward, son of the king, to the 
 earl of Gloucester and others sworn of the council 
 at Oxford, that the lord king had done and fulfilled 
 all and each of the things which the barons had 
 provided and imposed u})on him; but that the barons 
 themselves had done nothing for the benefit of the 
 commonweal, and according to their promise ; but 
 had minded their own interests only." " Whereupon 
 the lord Edward answered for himself, that he had 
 taken a certain oath at Oxford, which, although he 
 
THE CONVULSION. 47 
 
 had taken it against his will, he was disposed full}" to 
 keep and observe:" "but be it made known to the 
 barons, that unless they fulfilled their aforesaid oath, 
 he would stand by the community even to the death, 
 and would cause the promises they had made to be 
 performed." At length, the Annalist adds, "the 
 barons caused the following provisions to be pub- 
 lished:" provisions containing a number of secu- 
 rities for the people against petty aggressions ; and 
 which were re-enacted by Henry, in the fifty-second 
 year of his reign, in the well-known " Statute of 
 Marlborough." 
 
 At the end of this year 1259, king Henry, at the 
 desire of the council of barons, had gone over to 
 France, to complete the treaty respecting Normandy, 
 which was finally signed on the 15th day of De- 
 cember. He then began his journey homeward ; 
 when he was stopped at Abbeville by a rumour that 
 earl Simon and the other barons were proposing to 
 place the prince on the throne in his room, and that 
 if he landed, he would probably be seized and 
 thrown into prison b}^ the conspirators. " The 
 whole," says Tliomas Wykes, the chronicler, " was a 
 falsehood. The king, however, was struck with 
 terror, and delayed his return." His brother, earl 
 Eichard, at last allayed his fears. He got the 
 barons together in London, and caused a letter to 
 be written, to which he appended his own signature, 
 and the signature of the prince, and of the chief 
 nobles, assuring the king that he might boldly and 
 undoubtingly return. Whereupon the king em- 
 barked, and about the feast of St. George arrived 
 safely in England. 
 
 On his arrival, the same attempts were renewed, 
 
48 THE CONVULSION, 
 
 to SOW discord between the king and the prince. 
 The Annalist of Dunstable tells us, that certain 
 malicious persons, by false reports, created distrust 
 between the father and son ; asserting that Edward 
 and his counsellors were conspiring against the king. 
 They succeeded so far as to keep the two apart for a 
 time; the king exclaiming, "Let him not approach 
 me, for if I were to see him, I should not be able to 
 help kissing him." These simple words, added to the 
 prince's conduct a few years before, on his father's 
 embarkation at Portsmouth, give us a lively idea of 
 the real affection which always existed between the 
 two. At last, a meeting was brought about at 
 St. Paul's, where the prince denied every charge 
 brought against him ; offering to submit everj^thing 
 to the judgment of his father and uncle. "Where- 
 upon," says Matthew of Westminster, " the truth 
 being sifted, and the falsity of the stories proved, the 
 son became reconciled to his father, to the great con- 
 fusion of his adversaries." 
 
 The truth is, that the most solid refutation of 
 such a calumny is found in the fact, that the king 
 was not deposed. The two most powerful men in 
 the kingdom, at that moment, were, earl Simon, on 
 the popular side, and Edward, on the side of the 
 crown These were great men, great statesmen, and 
 great soldiers ; while Henry had fallen into universal 
 contempt. Had the prince and the earl ever really 
 intended to set aside the king, and to place the former 
 on the throne, such a change would have been 
 effected in a single dav. That // iras not done, is 
 quite sufficient proof, that it was not intended. 
 
 But a real, open, and avowed difference, was soon 
 to take place between Henry and his son. 
 
THE CONVULSION. 49 
 
 The king was always insincere, vacillating, and 
 uncertain ; the prince was upright, straightforward, 
 and the very soul of honor. Edward had seen, at a 
 glance, the real character of the Provisions of 
 Oxford, — he knew that they did, iu fact, strip the 
 sovereign of all real power ; and he had sworn to 
 them, as he always declared, " most unwillingly." 
 But, throughout his life, a pledge given by him was 
 a sacred thing. In one instance only, towards the 
 close of his reign, did he, apparently, desire to cancel 
 an obligation which had been extorted from him. At 
 the present moment, he would not even think of a 
 departure from his engagements. Hence it was 
 almost inevitable that the king and the prince should 
 greatly differ, even to the verge of quarrelling, on the 
 course proper to be taken at this period. 
 
 The operation of the Provisions of Oxford must 
 have been the cause of daily-increasing annoyances 
 to king Henry. The council of barons drew, week 
 by week, and month by month, all power and all 
 revenues more and more into their own hands. 
 
 Thus, in 1260, says Matthew Paris, " the barons 
 ordered those who farmed the church estates held by 
 Italians, not to hold themselves responsible for their 
 farms to the said Italians, but to account for the 
 rents to the proctors of them the said barons." It is 
 no wonder, that, after this, we should find the pope 
 quite willing to set aside the Provisions of Oxford, 
 and to excommunicate all who adhered to them. 
 Such a bull of absolution, nullifying and setting 
 aside the Oxford Provisions, Henr}^ obtained from 
 Rome about Easter 1261, and it is evident that he 
 must have applied for it in the previous year. 
 
 The poor king, doubtless, was urged on by his 
 
 E 
 
60 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 favorites, who had been accustomed for many years 
 past to be gratified by liim with perpetual gifts, and 
 who now found him, to their vexation, without power 
 and without money. In February' 1261, he entered 
 the council of the barons, and told them, that they 
 had pretended a great desire to benefit him, and the 
 whole community, by enlarging his revenues and 
 discharging his debts ; but that he now found by 
 experience, that they had been actuated mainly by a 
 regard to their own selfish ends ; and had made him 
 their servant instead of their master. " There- 
 fore," said he, " I desire you not to wonder, if I walk 
 no more by your counsels, but seek a remedy else- 
 where for the existing state of affairs." 
 
 After this notice, Henry, who doubtless was in 
 expectation of the speedy arrival of the papal bull, 
 began to prepare for the resumption of the royal 
 authority. He took possession, personally, of the 
 Tower of London, and broke open the treasury there, 
 to get access to the money deposited in it. He suc- 
 ceeded, also, in getting the city, for a while, on his 
 side, in so far, that he had possession of the gates, 
 and the barons and their followers were oblioed 
 to find themselves quarters without the wails. 
 
 The barons sent a deputation to him, which was 
 harshly treated; the king declaring that they had 
 not observed the Provisions, and neither should he ; 
 but in future, everybody must shift for himself. 
 At last, when hostilities seemed about to commence, 
 it was suggested and agreed to, that all matters 
 should be submitted to arbitration, but that the 
 arbitration itself should await the return of the prince ; 
 for Edward himself, in company with his cousin 
 
THE CONVULSION. 61 
 
 Henry, son of the earl of Cornwall, and two of the 
 sons of earl Simon, had left England for a grand 
 tournament proclaimed in France. There the prince 
 carried off the honors of the tourney ; but hearing of 
 the alarming state of affairs at home, he quickly left 
 the continent, and returned to England. 
 
 And now we immediately discover the difference, 
 in character, between the father and the son. 
 "Edward," says Matthew of Westminster, "after 
 receiving full information concerning the king's vain 
 counsels and counsellors, became enraged against the 
 latter, and withdrew himself from his father's sight, 
 and in all good faith declared his adhesion to the 
 barons, in conformity with his oath." 
 
 Now the young prince was devotedly attached to 
 his father, who was by his valor, five years after- 
 wards, replaced on his throne ; and he was at all 
 times a thorough royalist. But none of these con- 
 siderations could overbear in his mind the sense of 
 right, — the fixed determination of his soul to adhere 
 to honor and good faith. He had sworn, — his father 
 had sworn ; and there was no valid ground, as yet, 
 for any breach of their engagements. 
 
 " Struck with terror, Henry shut himself and his 
 evil advisers up in the Tower, and Edward, remaining 
 outside the gates with the barons, things assumed an 
 alarming aspect." 
 
 At last the queen, who it may be feared was the 
 secret favorer of these evil counsellors, interposed, 
 and probably by her influence over her son, an ac- 
 commodation was effected. The king ventured out, 
 and John Mansel, his favorite, and probably one of 
 his " evil advisers," succeeded in making his escape. 
 
 e3 
 
62 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 This man, the Wolsey of his day, who is said to have 
 held at one time seven hundred ecclesiastical bene- 
 fices, and who had entertained four crowned heads 
 at a single banquet, soon afterwards absconded to 
 France, where he died in penury. 
 
 But the contest was now only beginning. In May 
 126], the king went to his castle at Winchester, and 
 there he kept Whitsuntide ; and calling before him 
 the high justiciary and the chancellor lately made by 
 the council of the barons, he ordered them to give up 
 their seals of office. They replied that they could 
 not do this without the consent of the barons ; where- 
 upon the king grew very warm, and appointed Sir 
 Philip Bassett high justiciary, and Sir Walter Mer- 
 ton chancellor, of his own will and pleasure. " The 
 barons being informed of this, and fearing that the 
 king was about to abandon the Provisions of Oxford, 
 began to draw towards Winchester with armed forces." 
 The king, hearing of their approach, stole out of 
 Winchester, and made the best of his way back to 
 the Tower of London. 
 
 The years 1262 and 1263 must have been years 
 of great discomfort to all parties. The king's move- 
 ments were impeded by the death of the pope, and 
 by the uncertainty which was felt as to what part the 
 new pontiff might take in the controvers}'". Among 
 the barons dissensions prevailed; insomuch that earl 
 Simon seems to have absented himself from Ens-land 
 during the greater part of these two years. King 
 Henry himself was abroad once or twice, and writes 
 to his brother, from St. Germain's, Septeml)er 30th, 
 1262 ; "" so depressed and broken down by fever, 
 that he could scarcely get out of his bed ;" he 
 laments that he could not yet pay him the money he 
 
THE CONVULSION. 53 
 
 had borrowed of Mm, but thanks him for his labors 
 and vexations on his account. 
 
 In 1263, the Welsh having latterly been again 
 troublesome, prince Edward brought over a number 
 of veteran soldiers, whom he had met with at the 
 tournaments which he had recently attended on the 
 continent ; and with these he garrisoned some of the 
 border-castles, and strengthened the force at Windsor. 
 
 In April of this year we find mention of a par- 
 liament held at Oxford, and attended by earl Simon 
 and the barons, which is said to have been held 
 " without the privity of the king or Ids council.'' At 
 this parliament it was enacted, " that all who went 
 against the Provisions of Oxford, should be held to 
 be capital offenders." And immediately after this we 
 hear that the earl of Leicester began to assemble a 
 numerous army, and that people flocked to join him 
 from all quarters. 
 
 It seems tolerably clear that the war had, in effect, 
 alread}^ commenced ; for now earl Simon had quitted 
 the continent, and had taken up his abode in England, 
 with the determination, apparently, of bringing the 
 controversy to a close. One historian of the time, 
 Thomas Wykes, describes him as " moulding the 
 barons with his own deep-cut impressions, especially 
 the younger ones, who were but as wax in his hands." 
 Matthew of Westminster, writing of this period, the 
 summer of 1263, says, — "The barons of England, 
 being bound by an oath to the statutes of Oxford, 
 and being supported by the advice and effectual as- 
 sistance of the most noble earl of Leicester, — a 
 man most skilful in military affairs, — no longer hesi- 
 tated to bring to a conclusion a design which they 
 had long entertained." First and principally, they 
 
64 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 waged war against all foreigners. Peter, bishop of 
 Hereford, a Burgundian by birth, was arrested in 
 his own cathedral, and his treasure and all his farms 
 given up to plunder. The army then proceeded to 
 Gloucester, where Matthew de Besill, a foreigner, 
 was governor. The castle was stormed, and the 
 governor taken prisoner. Next, Worcester was oc- 
 cupied ; and in every place, says the chronicler, '' the 
 people miserably oppressed the foreigners with all 
 kinds of depredation and plunder." Such was one 
 not unnatural result of the manner in which the 
 pope had filled the principal churches with Italians ; 
 while the soreness occasioned by this grievance had 
 been augmented by the royal favor shewed to the 
 Savoyards and Poitevins. 
 
 And now, for the first time in this contest, we 
 begin to find prince Edward on his father's side. 
 How, indeed, could it be otherwise ? So long as the 
 question was one of politics, — so long as it remained 
 a matter to be discussed, the prince refused to 
 concur in the king's uncertain and vacillating course; 
 and he felt a just repugnance at any underhanded 
 attempt to evade the performance of positive en- 
 gagements. But if the sword was to be drawn, then 
 he could not forget that Henry was his father, and 
 that the throne itself would, in a few years, be his 
 own ; and that therefore every conceivable motive 
 united to urge him to resist the degradation of the 
 one, or the subversion of the other. An incident, 
 too, which occurred at this moment, probably much 
 aided hini in coming to a definite conclusion. 
 
 Edward, with military discernment, and with 
 filial affection, had taken means to place the castle 
 of Windsor in a position of safety. He had garri- 
 
THE CONVULSION. 65 
 
 soned it with about "one hundred most gallant 
 knights, and a much more numerous body of men-at- 
 arms, fortifying and strengthening the castle in a 
 most admirable manner." And having done this, he 
 invited the queen, his mother, to leave London, 
 where she was cooped up in the Tower, and to take 
 up her abode in the more royal residence of Windsor. 
 
 On the 13th of July, queen Eleanor left the 
 Tower, intending to proceed up the Thames to Wind- 
 sor, according to the proposed arrangements. But 
 when her barge neared London bridge, she found it 
 crowded by a prodigious concourse of people, who 
 uttered the most horrible exclamations, of which 
 cries of " Drown the witch ! " were among the mildest; 
 and the acts of this mob were of a piece with their 
 words. All kiuds of filth were hurled down upon 
 the barge ; and large stones, in such numbers as to 
 endanger its safety. The barge was driven back, 
 and as, in all probability, even a return to the Tower 
 might have been difficult, the mayor of London felt 
 it his duty to offer his protection, and to escort the 
 queen to the house of the bishop of London. This 
 circumstance naturally made a deep impression on 
 the minds of both the queen and her son ; and the 
 prince took a heavy vengeance for the outrage, at 
 the battle of Lewes, before so much as one year had 
 elapsed. As for the queen, she, not unnaturally, 
 soon contrived to pay a visit, accompanied by the 
 young princess, to the continent ; whence she did 
 not return until the battle of Evesham had restored 
 to the king his rightful place and authority. 
 
 All this autumn was passed in repeated but 
 fruitless attempts at accommodation. In August, 
 earl Simon and his party, who had formed a camp at 
 
56 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 Isleworth, marched towards Windsor, intending to 
 besiege the castle. Prince Edward, earnestly de- 
 siring to restore peace, proposed a conference at 
 Kingston, which was agreed to. But the veteran 
 politician was too crafty for the young prince, who 
 was then only in his twenty-fourth year. The con- 
 ference passed off amicably enough, and matters 
 seemed likely to be arranged ; but when the prince 
 was about to return home, earl Simon and his friends 
 " were too circumspect to let him get into Windsor 
 again ! " They " detained him ; " and by this art- 
 ful manoeuvre, they compelled the prince, in order 
 to regain his own liberty, to surrender Windsor 
 Castle to them. It is no great wonder that this 
 trick, added to the outrage at London bridge a fort- 
 night before, should have tended to rid the prince's 
 mind of any leaning towards earl Simon or his 
 party. 
 
 Still Leicester found difficulties in his way, and 
 as one was removed, another immediately appeared. 
 The archbishop of Canterbury, the uncle of the 
 queen, fulminated, from Boulogne, sentences of ex- 
 communication against several of the earl's adherents, 
 " for the spoiling and robbing of churches." And 
 a little later, Henry, the son of the earl of Cornwall 
 and nephew of the king, fell off from the barons' 
 party ; as did Ralph Bassett, John de Yaux, Roger 
 de Leiburne, Hamo L'Estrange, and John Giffard, all 
 knights of high repute, who united their fortunes 
 witli those of the prince. The pope, also, began to 
 take a warm interest in the quarrel, and even threat- 
 ened to proclaim a new crusade against the rebellious 
 barons, as the enemies of Holy Church. Very na- 
 turally, therefore, some of the bishops interposed, 
 
THE CONVULSION. 57 
 
 and succeeded in procuring a reference of all matters 
 in dispute to the arbitration of king Louis of 
 France, a prince whose character for religion and 
 virtue has distinguished him in the French annals 
 by the name of " Saint." To this reference, all 
 parties willingly agreed : earl Simon and his son, 
 Hugh le Despencer, Humphrey de Bohun, Nicholas 
 de Segrave, and a host of others, on the side of the 
 barons ; — prince Edward, his cousin Henry, the earls 
 of Norfolk, Warrenne, and Hereford, with others, on 
 the king's part. King Louis accepted the office, 
 and, at the beginning of January 1264, he held a 
 court at Amiens to hear the parties on both sides. 
 
 King Henry, his son, and nephew, attended in 
 person. The earl of Leicester set off for Amiens, 
 but his horse fell with him, broke his leg, and he 
 was confined for some time at Kenilworth. The 
 barons deputed Humphrey de Bohun, the younger, 
 Henry and Peter de Montfort, Thomas Cantilupe, 
 and some others, to represent them at the hearing. 
 
 Louis heard the arguments on both sides, during 
 several days ; and on the 23rd of January, 1264, he 
 gave his judgment, which is still to be read in the 
 archives of Paris. In that judgment, confirming 
 Magna Charta, " he annuls and makes void the Pro- 
 visions of Oxford, and ordains that the king and his 
 barons, and all others, be entirely discharged and 
 released from the same." He then counsels mu- 
 tual forgiveness, concession, and good will, to all 
 parties. 
 
 The barons received this award with indignation, 
 and "utterly refused to abide by it." And now, for 
 the first time, prince Edward found himself free. 
 The papal bull of 1261 could give no satisfaction to 
 
68 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 his mind ; nor reconcile his conscience to a breach of 
 obligations, deliberately, though reluctantly, under- 
 taken. But by this arbitration the position of affairs 
 was wholly changed. Earl Simon and his adherents 
 had themselves submitted the Oxford Provisions, and 
 all other matters in dispute, to the decision of king 
 Louis. They had sworn, that '^ whatever he should 
 ordain concerning the aforesaid things, should be by 
 them observed with good faith." And king Louis had 
 ordained, that the Oxford Provisions should be can- 
 celled, and rendered null and void. The inference 
 was inevitable. All who had sworn to abide by his 
 decision, were bound to regard the Oxford Provisions 
 as utterly erased and rescinded. If the barons 
 refused to do so, they, and not the king or the 
 prince, would be morally responsible for the conse- 
 quences. 
 
 Louis had ordained, that the king should be 
 restored to all his rights, and especially to the 
 possession of all his castles. Henry accordingly, on 
 his return home, demanded possession of Dover 
 Castle, but was refused admittance. He then passed 
 on to Canterbury ; and early in March proceeded to 
 Oxford, where he convened a parliament. The barons, 
 however, refused to attend, and established their 
 head-quarters at Northampton, which they held 
 against the king. 
 
 Earl Richard, king of the Romans, the king's 
 brother, had, like his son Henr}^, gone a certain 
 length with earl Simon ; but he had now, like his 
 son, withdrawn from what was becoming a mere 
 rebellion, and began to shew himself on the king's 
 part. This defection enraged the Londoners, who, 
 " sallying forth in immense numbers," proceeded to 
 
THE CONVULSION. 69 
 
 Isleworth, where earl Richard had a mansion, which 
 they rifled and burnt to the ground. They then 
 returned to Westminster, where he had another 
 house, which they also levelled with the ground. 
 The lord Walter de Merton, and the lord Philip de 
 Bassett, also had their houses destroj^ed, and the 
 judges made by the king were seized and thrown into 
 prison. 
 
 Through the months of February and March, a 
 sort of desultory warfare was kept up, at G-loucester, 
 Worcester, and on the borders of Wales. At G-lou- 
 cester, the prince gave another proof of the frankness 
 and intrepidity of his character. He had entered 
 into the castle, and had signified his intention of 
 fighting the forces of the barons, outside, the next 
 day. But seeing among the opposing forces the two 
 sons of earl Simon, — on whom he had himself con- 
 ferred knighthood only two or three years before, and 
 who had been his brethren in the great tournament 
 of 1261, — he went out to them, unarmed, with his 
 cousin Henry, to treat of the still remaining possi- 
 bility of peace. He succeeded in making a temporary 
 truce, till he should rejoin his father, and try to bring 
 about a pacification. The old earl, the chronicler 
 adds, was much vexed, remembering his Kingston 
 manoeuvre, "that the prince should have been so 
 foolishly released." 
 
 On the 3rd of April, 1264, the king raised the 
 royal banner, and marched out of Oxford, with a 
 well-appointed army, led by prince Edward, his 
 uncle the earl of Cornwall, John Baliol, Robert de 
 Bruce, Philip Marmion, Philip Bassett, William de 
 Valence, and others. Their march was directed to 
 Northampton, before which town the royal army 
 
60 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 appeared on the 5th. The younger Simon de Montfort 
 and his brother Peter defended the place, but a 
 breach was made, and the castle was successfully 
 stormed. There were taken here, fifteen knights 
 banneret, and above one hundred ordinar}^ knights, 
 " with an infinite number of noble persons" (gentry). 
 Young Simon had been among the first to raise a rebel 
 standard against the king, and being captured, some 
 were for putting him to death ; but the prince saved his 
 life ; which kindness Simon requited by assassinating 
 Edward's cousin, Henry, a few years after, in a 
 church at Viterbo. Earl Simon was in London when 
 the news of the loss of Northampton reached him, 
 and he would instantly have marched northwards, but 
 danger shewed itself in another quarter. A. con- 
 spiracy had been detected among the Jews, who, it 
 was said, intended to set fire to the city on Palm 
 Sunday. And at Rochester Castle lay the earl 
 Warrenne, and other leading royalists, who, it was 
 supposed, would, in the confusion, make an attempt 
 to seize upon the city. Leicester, therefore, thought it 
 his first duty to get possession of this stronghold, 
 lying as it did so near to the metropolis ; and he im- 
 mediately besieged it. The king, hearing of its peril, 
 felt the importance of retaining it so strongly, that 
 he quitted Northampton, and in five days, scarcely 
 allowing himself any rest, he reached Rochester. 
 Having placed this fortress in a position of safety, he 
 marched to Tunbridge, where he took the castle of tlie 
 earl of Gloucester ; proceeding onwards to Winchelsea 
 and the Cinque ports. Leicester, having made Lon- 
 don secure, now felt it necessary to go in quest of 
 the king. He enlisted about 15,000 of the citizens 
 in his army, and marched towards Lewes, where the 
 
THE CONVULSION. 61 
 
 castle of earl Warrenne would, he well knew, form a 
 probable base of operations for the royal army. He 
 reached the village of Fleching, about nine miles 
 north of Lewes, about the 11th of Mav, 1264. Here 
 the first step taken, was to despatch the bishops of 
 London and Worcester to king Henry, with an offer 
 of peace. The letter, still extant, signed by the earls 
 of Leicester and Gloucester, is vague in its phrase- 
 ology, and abounds with professions of loyalty ; 
 but the verbal offers made by the prelates embraced 
 a payment of 50,000 marks to the king and his 
 brother, for the damage done at Islevvorth and else- 
 where, provided the Provisions of Oxford were still 
 adhered to. 
 
 On the statement of these terms, " a mighty 
 clamour arose," — the royalists being confident of 
 their strena-th, and indignant that the now defunct 
 Provisions should again be brought into discussion. 
 The instant reply was penned and sent back, that, 
 ''Since it manifestly appears, by the war and general 
 disturbance already raised by you in our kingdom, 
 that you do not observe your allegiance to us, nor 
 have any regard to the security of our person, we 
 value not your faith or love, but defy you, as 
 our enemies." Such was the message carried back 
 to the armv of the barons on the evening of the 13th 
 of May. That night was spent by earl Simon in 
 anxious preparations, and by sunrise of the next day 
 his force was in the field. 
 
 Most accounts give the superiority in numerical 
 force to the royal army ; but, in those days, even 
 more than in our own, mere numbers were of less 
 importance than knightly prowess and skill in the 
 conduct of an army; and we have no reason to 
 
62 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 suppose that, at Lewes, among many valiant knights, 
 there were more than two men of pre-eminent military 
 talent. These were, the able and experienced Simon 
 de Montfort, and the young prince Edward, who was 
 but in his twenty-fifth year, and who was now to 
 witness his first great battle. 
 
 Henry, taking the command of the centre, and 
 his brother the left wing, it devolved upon the prince 
 to lead the right. Edward thus found himself 
 opposed to the Londoners ; and all the chronicles 
 agree, that he rejoiced at the opportunity to repay 
 them for the insults offered only a few months before 
 to the queen, his mother. 
 
 The trumpets sounded, and Edward in a moment 
 was upon the Londoners. Before his charge nothing 
 could stand. His whole life furnishes no instance in 
 which his onset could be resisted. The leaders of the 
 London division of the barons' army, — Hastings and 
 Segrave, — were distinguished men, but their eff'orts 
 were unavailing. The whole body was driven back, 
 and the front retiring upon the rear, all became con- 
 fusion ; and as Edward and his knights came 
 thundering after them, Henry de Hastings, Geoffrey 
 de Lucy, and Humphrey de Bohun, the younger, were 
 seen flying for their lives. Numbers were drowned in 
 attempting to cross the river Ouse, and for two or 
 three miles the sword of the pursuers was busy, till a 
 rapid flight at last saved those fugitives who could gain 
 the steeper heights. This division of the barons' 
 army was utterly broken up. The actual loss sus- 
 tained by it is commonly stated at 3,000 or 4,000 
 men. 
 
 But meanwhile, the other great leader had not 
 been idle. Pleased to see the prince drawn off on 
 
THE CONVULSION. 63 
 
 the riglit, earl Simon and his equally dauntless sons 
 set upon the centre and left wing, and quickly threw 
 them into confusion. Matthew of Westminster says 
 of the royal forces, that "the greater part of them 
 marched forward that day without any order, and 
 with precipitation, and fought unskilfully." It is 
 perfectly clear, that so soon as prince Edward had 
 gone in pursuit of the Londoners, all the military 
 talent in the field was on the side of earl Simon. 
 Hence, before Edward could return, the main body 
 of the royal army had been defeated, and the earl 
 Warrenne, with three or four hundred knights, had in 
 a disgraceful manner fled the field, and escaped to 
 Pevensey ; the king had taken refuge in the priory ; 
 and his brother, the earl of Cornwall, was a prisoner. 
 The prince, on his return from the chase of the 
 Londoners, was met by these disastrous news : he 
 carried his force round the town, to the priory, where 
 he found his father, and he proposed the next day to 
 renew the fight. But Leicester was always a politic 
 man; he often relied on negotiation; and he had 
 already seen what Edward could achieve in the 
 open field. That evening, he despatched to the priory 
 two or three friars, with offers of a negotiation, and 
 with assurances of his earnest desire of peace and 
 reconciliation. As he was in possession of the field, 
 and as the royal army was sorely diminished and 
 discouraged, it was natural that such offers should 
 be readily received. The earl proposed to release all 
 his prisoners, to set the earl of Cornwall at liberty, 
 to refer all matters in dispute to six distinguished 
 men, as umpires, only providing, — which was the 
 gist of the whole scheme, — that prince Edward and 
 his cousin Henry should give themselves up as 
 
64 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 hostages for the fulfilment of whatever the said 
 umpires should enjoin. 
 
 Edward was not the man to offer any objection 
 to a plan which proposed to release his father and 
 his uncle by the sacrifice of himself. He willingly 
 assented ; the earl's object was accomplished, and 
 the prince was immediately sent to Dover Castle, 
 under the care of Henry de Montfort, his former 
 friend. A political song of that day thus jeers at 
 him : — 
 
 " Be the luef, be the loht*, Sire Edward, 
 Thou shalt ride sporeless o thy lyard, 
 All the righte way to Dovere ward." 
 
 Wykes says, that the prince was treated ^'less 
 honorably than was becoming." Another writer adds, 
 
 " In prison nere a yere was Edward in a cage." 
 
 But we may reasonably conclude, that the prince, 
 beyond his seclusion, was subjected to no insults ; 
 since we find him personally attending the funeral 
 of Henry de Montfort, after the battle of Evesham, 
 as one for whose memory he still felt a regard. 
 
 Leicester was now, practically, supreme. The 
 king was in his hands, — a state prisoner, forced to 
 sign whatever mandates were prescribed to him ; 
 and the earl made good use of his opportunity. 
 He made Henry send orders to the governors of 
 all his castles, to surrender them at once to carl 
 Simon's captains. He forced him to sign commis- 
 sions to the sheriffs of the counties, enjoining them 
 to take up arms against all that should oi)[)ose the 
 orders of the barons. The prince, meanwhile, was 
 
 * i.e. "Bo thou wiUing, or unwilling." 
 
THE CONVULSION. 65 
 
 safely cooped up in Dover Castle, and the queen 
 was in Flanders, where she immediately began to 
 collect a force for her husband's release. A long 
 succession of contrary winds, however, quite frus- 
 trated all her purposes. 
 
 The rest of the year passed over, in vain 
 attempts on the part of earl Simon to satisfy the 
 king of France and the papal legate, of the fair- 
 ness of his intentions. 
 
 Christmas, 1264, saw the earl in his castle of 
 Kenilworth, where he kept that festival with un- 
 usual state. One hundred and sixty knights graced 
 his board, and, apparently, both the king and the 
 prince were ostensibly his guests, but in reality his 
 prisoners. In March a fresh manoeuvre was adopted. 
 The prince was brought to a council or parliament 
 at Westminster, professedly to be set at liberty; 
 but, says Rapin, " this concession was clogged with 
 conditions which rendered it of no use ; namely, 
 that he should remain with the king his father, and 
 obey him in all things. Clearly, to ordain that 
 Edward should be set at liberty, and yet continue 
 with his father, who was himself a prisoner, was 
 merely to change his prison." " Edward," says 
 Florence of Worcester, " being released from pri- 
 son, was led about, with the king, by the earl de 
 Montfort, wherever he went." Yet, for this merely 
 delusive concession, the prince was required to pay 
 the enormous price of assigning the whole county 
 of Chester to the ambitious earl. This was done by 
 a formal act, still extant, bearing date, ^'London, 
 the last day of March, 1265." 
 
 The Chronicle of Mailros narrates an incident 
 which exhibits, in a very forcible light, the humili- 
 
 F 
 
66 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 ating mockery of freedom to which the prince was 
 at this time subjected. " A venerable man, Oliver, 
 abbot of Dryburgh, was sent to Edward from his 
 sister, the queen of Scotland. Simon, hearing of his 
 arrival, conducted him to the prince, who was seated 
 on a raised chair or high seat. The earl proceeded 
 with the abbot up the steps to the prince, and 
 remained there, while, after a friendly salutation, 
 they conversed together. Standing by them, he 
 kept his eyes fixed upon them, so as to guard against 
 any sign or other communication passing between 
 them ; and when the abbot rose to depart, earl 
 Simon followed him as he left the prince, interposing 
 between them so as to prevent anything from pass- 
 ing." Such insults as these, obviously, the prince 
 would have borne from no one but the old earl 
 himself ; j^et, says the Chronicle, " these precautions 
 were moderate, compared with other steps taken by 
 the earl." 
 
 But Leicester was now rapidly undermining the 
 foundations of his own power. Two of his chief 
 confederates in the war with the king had been the 
 earl of Derby and the earl of Gloucester. The 
 first of these noblemen he now sued in the king's 
 name, and shut him up in the Tower. Gloucester 
 had some reason to fear that a similar purpose was 
 entertained towards him, and being invited by the 
 younger de Montforts to a tournament, he declined 
 to attend. Eishanger says, that he was disgusted to 
 find that Leicester took to his own use a great part 
 of the revenues of the kingdom, and all the monej^s 
 received for the ransom of prisoners, which Glou- 
 cester expected would have been divided. Wykes 
 adds, that earl Simon had appropriated to himself 
 
THE CONVULSION. 67 
 
 eighteen confiscated baronies ; and most of the 
 chroniclers agree, that the pride and arrogance of 
 the younger de Montforts had altogether alienated 
 the earl of Grloucester. 
 
 Roger Mortimer, one of the lords marchers, 
 who had been associated with prince Edward in the 
 Welsh wars, had always been a firm royalist. With 
 him, Gloucester now entered into communication, 
 and between them a plan was soon agreed upon for 
 effecting the prince's release. 
 
 Earl Simon heard of some hostile proceedings 
 of the lords marchers, and thought it necessary 
 to proceed into the west, to look after these matters. 
 As usual, he carried the king and the prince into 
 the west with him. Lying at Hereford^ prince 
 Edward's attendants (or keepers) seem to have 
 been Thomas de Clare, Robert de Ros, and Henry 
 de Montfort. That they were, in fact, charged with 
 his custody, is clear from the circumstances which 
 followed. 
 
 Mortimer contrived to have sent to the prince, 
 as a present from some unsuspected party, a re- 
 markably fleet horse. One day, Edward, having 
 this horse kept near, first proposed races with his 
 attendants, and in this manner galloped their horses 
 until they were sufficiently tired. Then, mounting 
 his fresh and fleet courser, he jocosely told them 
 that he had had as much of their company as he 
 wished, and then bade them " Grood morning." They 
 followed as they might, but after a while a party, 
 sent by Mortimer, issued from a wood, surrounded 
 the prince, and rode off joyfully with him. 
 
 Grloucester and Mortimer soon joined the prince 
 with what force they could make, and earl Warrenne, 
 
 F 3 
 
68 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 William of Valence, and Hugh Bigod, landed nearly 
 about the same time, at Pembroke, with a hundred and 
 twent}^ knights and cross-bow-men. Giffard soon after 
 came in with a large body of men, and the royal army 
 received hourly reinforcements from many quarters. 
 The cities of Gloucester and Worcester quickly fell 
 into the prince's hands. Earl Simon's force was then at 
 Hereford, and in Glamorganshire. The prince knew 
 Kenilworth to be a stronghold of the De Montfort 
 family; and hearing from a spy that the j^ounger 
 Simon, who had come up from the south, with a con- 
 siderable body of men, to his father's assistance, and 
 was then at Kenilworth, kept but a careless guard, he 
 left Worcester on a fine summer night, August 1st., and 
 effected a complete surprise of the Kenilworth party. 
 Knowing of no enemy near, and being probably 
 too numerous to be cooped up in the castle, they 
 were preferring the rural pleasures of the villages to 
 the confinement of stone walls, and the royal forces 
 came upon them in the early dawn, while asleep in 
 the town or village near the castle. Some were seen 
 to fly with a single garment ; some in their shirts, 
 others, with their clothes under their arms. Young 
 Simon escaped with difficulty, almost naked, by a boat 
 across the lake, and so got into the castle. Among 
 the prisoners were twenty bannerets, including Robert 
 de Vaux, earl of Oxford, William dc Monchensj^, 
 Richard de Gray, Baldwin Wake, and Hugh Neville. 
 A rich booty was taken, and a large number of 
 valuable horses belonging to the captured knights* 
 
 But the old earl was not far distant ; he had been 
 informed of the prince's march, and knew the impor- 
 
 * Chronicle of Mailros. 
 
THE CONVULSION. 69 
 
 tance of stopping, if it were possible, his progress. 
 The troops, however, which he had with him were 
 probably not numerous, and the larger portion of them 
 were merely Welsh irregulars; and he greatly desired 
 a junction with his son Simon, and the Kenilworth 
 forces. He manoeuvred, therefore, to pass by, if 
 possible, the prince's army, and to march upon Kenil- 
 worth, or at least, to establish a communication with 
 his son, wherever he might be. With this view, he 
 reached Kempseye, a palace belonging to the bishop 
 of Worcester, on Sunday or Monday, August 2nd or 
 3rd., 1265 ; knowing that the prince's army was near 
 the city of Worcester, but not desiring to come into 
 contact with it until he had effected a junction with 
 his son. 
 
 The prince was informed of his movements, and 
 knowing that he would march in an eastward direc- 
 tion, so as to approach Warwickshire, he resolved to 
 move in a parallel line, and thus to fall in with the 
 earl near Evesham. Edward had now passed his 
 youth, and began to exhibit more and more of that 
 prudence and discretion in military tactics which 
 characterized him through life. He had just gained 
 one great advantage by surprising his foes ; and he 
 wished, as far as it might be possible with so expe- 
 rienced a warrior as earl Simon, to keep him also in 
 the dark as to his movements. Considering it to be 
 most probable that all his proceedings were watched, 
 and that the earl would receive intelligence of the 
 course he took, he left Worcester by the northern 
 road, as though he intended to march towards 
 Stafford or Shrewsbury. Allowing time for the spies 
 to fly to earl Simon with this news, he then suddenly 
 wheeled to the right, and turned towards Evesham, 
 
70 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 where he rightly judged he should find the earl. A. 
 second precaution he had learned from a device 
 practised by earl Simon at the battle of Lewes ; 
 where the old earl cunningly displayed his banner at 
 a point of the field where he himself was not. Having 
 just captured at Kenilworth the banners of twenty 
 knights of fame, the prince ordered these banners to 
 be vauntingly displayed in the front of his army. 
 The earl saw the devices, and rejoicingly said, "They 
 are our banners, — my son is close at hand." By this 
 manoeuvre the prince was enabled to gain a com- 
 manding position on Elyn hill, without any opposition 
 from the earl. But now, Nicholas, the earl's barber, 
 had gone up into Evesham tower, to view the 
 approaching army, and called out quickly, " It is not 
 your son as you suppose ; but I see the prince's ban- 
 ner in the van, the earl of Gloucester's in another part, 
 and Roger Mortimer's in a third." The earl went 
 up to view them, and exclaimed, " By the arm of 
 St. James ! they advance most skilfully, but it is 
 from me they learned it." Soon after, finding his 
 foes manoeuvring to surround him, and perceiving 
 their superior force, he exclaimed, " May the Lord 
 have mercy on our souls ! — for our bodies are the 
 prince's !" 
 
 His sons would fain have had him escape, while 
 they sustained the prince's onset ; but such a pro- 
 posal was naturally scorned by one of the first 
 soldiers in Europe. "Far be it from me," he ex- 
 claimed, " to bring an illustrious career to such a 
 close." Walter Hcmingford says, that he told his 
 sons that it was their pride and presumption that had 
 brought him to this end ; but still, he added, " I trust 
 I die for the cause of God and justice." 
 
THE CONVULSION. 71 
 
 The battle began soon after noon, and lasted until 
 evening. The old earl, in this crisis of his fate, drew 
 round him a body of gallant knights, resolving to 
 meet death with intrepidity. His Welsh auxiliaries, 
 alarmed at the state of affairs, took to flight at an 
 early period of the engagement. Against the solid 
 phalanx which gathered round the old warrior, the 
 prince made his most vehement attack. But Leicester 
 and his followers were not men to fly; and there was 
 nothing for it but to ply the steel and the lance, till 
 nought remained to offer any resistance. Gloucester, 
 meanwhile, had gained the rear, and the remnant of 
 the earl's army was now surrounded on all sides. 
 Most of them died a knightly death. " Their shields 
 were cut to pieces, their coats of mail pierced and 
 torn to shivers, and countless spears and swords 
 were dyed with their blood." There fell, in heaps of 
 dead, the old earl, his son Henry, lord Hugh 
 Despencer, lord Ralph Basset, lord Thomas Hestelet, 
 lord William de Mandeville, lord John Beauchamp, 
 lord Guy de Baliol, lord Roger de Rouce, Peter de 
 Montfort, Walter de Crepinge, William of York, 
 Robert de Tregor, and many other knights, to the 
 number of a hundred and sixty, besides a very large 
 number of young men of quality. The prince had 
 been desirous of taking the earl and his sons prisoners; 
 but it is clear that a spirit of animosity existed among 
 some of the royalist party, which contemned the idea 
 of quarter on either side. 
 
 It was this feeling which even proceeded so 
 far as actually to mutilate the dead body of the old 
 warrior, and to send his head to lady Mortimer at 
 Wigmore Castle. Yet some prisoners were taken, — 
 such as Guy de Montfort, Peter de Montfort the 
 
72 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 younger, John St. John, Henry de Hastings, Hum- 
 phrey de Bohun the younger, John de Vesci, and 
 Nicholas de Segrave. 
 
 The death of young Henry de Montfort gave the 
 prince great concern. He attended his funeral, and 
 the interment of the remains of the old earl, and of 
 lord Hugh Despencer, in the conventual church at 
 Evesham, as chief mourner. King Henry, who had 
 been carried into the battle by earl Simon, was 
 rescued by his son, and placed in safety. He had 
 been thrown into a position of real peril, being 
 attacked by some of the prince's followers, to 
 whom he was obliged to cry out, " I am Henry of 
 Winchester !" 
 
 "The barons' war" was now practically at an end. 
 A parliament was summoned to meet at Winchester, 
 in the month of September, when all the acts of the 
 earl, done under the king's name, were rescinded, and 
 sundry forfeitures were declared of the estates of the 
 rebel barons. It is, however, remarked as well 
 worthy of note, that not one of the party of the 
 earl of Leicester suffered any punishment, excepting 
 the forfeiture of estates : and these forfeitures were 
 commuted, in 1267, by the Dictum of Kenilworth, 
 for the payment of fines, varying from one to five 
 years' value. Surely a penalty of five years' rent 
 must be regarded as lenient, in the case of those who 
 had actually fought against their sovereign in the 
 open field. High treason had been their offence, and 
 yet not one of the surviving rebels suffered either 
 death or imprisonment. Even Hume remarks, " The 
 clemency of this victory is remarkable. No blood 
 was shed on the scaffold : no attainders, except of 
 the Montfort family, were carried into execution." 
 
THE CONVULSION. 78 
 
 And lord Campbell says, "Prince Edward is cele- 
 brated for the merciful disposition lie displayed. No 
 blood was slied on the scaffold, and all who submitted 
 were pardoned." 
 
 Kenilworth Castle and the isle of Ely held out 
 for some months against the king ; but in the course 
 of 1266-1267 they were subdued. The Londoners, for 
 their zeal, repeatedly shewn against the king, were 
 sentenced to pay a fine of 20,000 marks. And now 
 queen Eleanor might return home to her palace and 
 her husband. For nearly two years had she lived 
 in exile, during the whole of which time her efforts 
 had been unceasing in her consort's cause. To her 
 influence with the king of France, the barons attri- 
 buted the unfavorable sentence of that monarch, by 
 which the Provisions of Oxford were set aside. By 
 her efforts, also, bulls had been procured from the 
 pope. Urban lY., confirming the award of king Louis, 
 abrogating the Provisions of Oxford, and directing 
 ecclesiastical censures on all who should observe 
 those Provisions. But, not content with mere fulmi- 
 nations, " this most gallant woman," to use Matthew 
 of Westminster's words, "bravely labored to suc- 
 cour her lord, and Edward his son, with all possible 
 energy and manly courage." By selling all her 
 jewels, and pledging her credit to the utmost, she 
 managed to draw together at Bruges, and at Damme, 
 such an army and such a fleet as to excite in England 
 the most livelv alarms. But a lonp^ succession of 
 adverse winds kept them in harbour, until their pro- 
 visions were exhausted ; and this host dispersed and 
 melted away, leaving English quarrels to be decided 
 by English swords and English men. The king, when 
 peace was restored, was obliged to give to his con- 
 
74 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 sort, not only the whole fine of the city of London, 
 but many other ransoms and levies, in order to clear 
 off the debts she had incurred. 
 
 Several of the princesses of that day bore the 
 name of Eleanor. With the queen returned also 
 " Eleanor of Castile," the fair and gentle consort of 
 the prince. Unlike her mother-in-law, whose energy, 
 talent, and determination, are celebrated by all the 
 chroniclers, the young Eleanor appears never to 
 have interfered in politics ; and instead of becoming, 
 like Eleanor of Provence, " one of the most unpopular 
 of queens," she seems to have acquired and to have 
 deserved, the affectionate esteem of all classes. Her 
 magnificent funeral in 1290, — one of the most striking 
 scenes ever witnessed in England, — proved how en- 
 tirely she had gained the affections of one of the 
 noblest of men. 
 
 But while restored freedom and prosperity awaited 
 these two princesses, the battle of Evesham sounded 
 the knell of many lofty aspirings in the hearts of 
 two other ladies, also bearing the name of Eleanor. 
 Henry's sister, Eleanor, had been wedded seven-and- 
 twenty years before to earl Simon de Montfort, and 
 she had borne him five gallant sons and a young 
 Eleanor. She had faithfully shared the earl's varied 
 fortunes, and was, says the chronicler, 
 
 " Gode woman tlioru' al." 
 
 For nearly two years she had been the wife of the 
 ruler of the land. Queen Eleanor had fled away ; the 
 king and his son were in bondage ; and carl Simon bore 
 sway in England, keeping Christmas in Kenilworth 
 Castle, with a hundred and sixty knights at his hos- 
 
THE CONVULSION. 76 
 
 pitable board. But even when she was absent from her 
 lord, and living in Dover Castle, "a quarter of a tun 
 of Gascon wine, and half a tun of bastard wine," was 
 the daily allowance of her table. When she was 
 at Odiham, just four months before the battle of 
 Evesham, her stable-keepers had to provide for three 
 hundred and thirty-four horses ! At this time her two 
 nephews, prince Edward and his cousin Henry, in 
 charge of Henry de Montfort, were her guests. As 
 April opened, the earl her husband parted from her, 
 and they never met again. In June she heard of the 
 prince's escape, and removed to Dover Castle for 
 safety, her train consisting of eighty-four horses. 
 She passed by Porchester, Bramber, Battle, and Win- 
 chelsea, in her way to Dover. At Winchelsea, on 
 Sunday, the 14th of June, she gave a dinner to the 
 burgesses, at which two oxen and thirteen sheep were 
 consumed^. 
 
 On the 15 th of August she received the fatal 
 tidings, that her husband and son were slain, and that 
 she was a banished outlaw. Probably the tidings, 
 or rumours of the battle, may have reached her rather 
 earlier ; but we find an entry, on the 15th, of the 
 arrival of a messenger with letters from prince Edward. 
 He had not forgotten that the countess Eleanor was 
 his aunt, and that he had but recently been her guest. 
 What an interesting document would that letter now 
 be, had it been preserved ! 
 
 After various efforts to excite the king's compas- 
 sion, she quitted England in October, having pre- 
 viously sent over two of her sons, with a sum of 
 
 * Manners and Household Expenses. Roxburgh Club. P. 47. 
 
76 THE CONVULSION. 
 
 11,000 marks, the wreck of her fallen fortunes. The 
 nunnery of Montargis, which had been founded by 
 her husband's sister, received her. Laying aside her 
 purple robes, she assumed for the rest of her days 
 the garb of widowhood, wearing nothing but wool 
 nearest her skin. Fasting of the severest kind be- 
 came habitual to her^; and no reconciliation with her 
 brother king Henry seems ever to have taken place. 
 There is, however, still extant, a letter from Henry 
 to the king of France, in which, while he dwells on 
 the injuries which he had received from the earl and 
 his family, he promises to agree to anything which 
 the king shall recommend. But there is no record 
 of any concession during the short remainder of that 
 reign. It was reserved for the more generous spirit 
 of Edward to accord to her a full pardon ; and to 
 restore to her, so soon as he was seated on the throne, 
 her dower as countess of Pembroke. 
 
 The youngest of the four Eleanors was educated 
 at Montargis by her mother, for her intended station 
 as princess of Wales. Earl Simon had always culti- 
 vated the friendship and alliance of Llewellyn, from 
 whom he had obtained that body of Welsh troops 
 which deserted him at the battle of Evesham. 
 Leicester had promised the Welsh prince his 
 daughter in marriage, and Llewellyn's heart seems 
 
 * It is probable tbat, like bcr brotlier the king, and her 
 husband the earl, the countess Eleanor was a sincerely religious 
 woman. Her sons were sent for education to bishop Grossetete, 
 " holy bishop Robert." Among her household expenses we find 
 a payment of 10s. for vellum for a pocket breviary ; and 14s. for 
 the writer. At the present value of money this would make tho 
 whole cost of the breviary about £18. 
 
THE CONVULSION. 77 
 
 to have been wholly set upon this union. But, in 
 1275, when the intended bride was on her way, under 
 the care of her brother Almeric, to become the wife 
 of the prince of Wales, the ship was captured by an 
 English cruiser off Bristol, and the young Eleanor 
 was presented to king Edward. He treated her 
 courteously, and made her reside at Windsor, as 
 companion to the queen ; but as Llewellyn was then 
 contumacious, Edward refused to send to him his 
 bride. At last, the Welsh prince submitted, peace 
 was restored, and at Worcester, in 1278, the marriage 
 took place, the king and queen gracing the ceremony 
 with their presence. 
 
CHAPTER THE FOURTH. 
 
 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 
 
 A.D. 1268—1272. 
 
 With earl Simon's death the rebellion ended; 
 and nothing remained for the prince to do, but to 
 break up some insurgent bands which still held the 
 isle of Ely and Kenilworth Castle ; and then, at a 
 parliament held at Marlborough in 1269, to procure 
 the enactment, as a permanent law, of the beneficial 
 regulations which, as we have seen, his own firmness 
 had extorted from the council of barons just ten 
 years before. We notice, too, on this occasion, the 
 bent of the prince's mind, in the form and style 
 observed in this parliament. It was now, for the 
 first time, that the concurrence of the people was dis- 
 tinctly recognised as essential to the enactment of a 
 new law. It is stated, that " the more discreet men 
 of the realm being called together," the following 
 "statute" was agreed upon. Only five other documents 
 regarded as laws emanated from Henry during his 
 long reign"* ; and all of these, previous to the Statute 
 of Marlborough, bear the character of edicts or de- 
 crees, issued by the king and his council. But the 
 prince had latterly acquired a natural and paramount 
 influence in all affairs of state ; and throughout his 
 whole life we shall find the constant recognition of 
 
 * See Statutes of the Realm, vol. i. 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 79 
 
 the principle distinctly asserted by him in 1297, that 
 "what concerns all, should be by all approved." 
 
 It would be tedious to go through the details of 
 the suppression of the remains of the insurrection 
 at Kenilworth and in the isle of Ely, or to describe 
 the troubles excited, for a while, by the earl of 
 Gloucester. The great men who had joined the 
 prince, and who had aided him in re-establishing the 
 monarchy, now expected and demanded large re- 
 wards ; while, on the other hand, '' the disinherited," 
 — those who had taken arms with earl Simon and the 
 barons, — shewed a natural dislike to the punish- 
 ments, in the shape of pecuniary fines, which were 
 justh" iuflicted on them. But the prince's judgment 
 and discretion, after a while, overcame all these diffi- 
 culties ; and, as we have already seen, even un- 
 friendly historians have been compelled to admit, 
 that "the clemency which followed the victory of 
 Evesham is remarkable." 
 
 The circumstances of the times gave full scope 
 to the soldierly and princely qualities of Edward. 
 A strong right arm was often absolutely needed. If 
 the king's enemies required to be kept in check, the 
 king's friends were often almost equally troublesome. 
 We have alluded to the fractiousness of the earl of 
 Gloucester, who, at one time, held London itself 
 against the king. Another great earl, Warrenne, 
 was always faithful to the crown ; but he could not 
 bring his passions into subjection to the laws. It 
 was in 1269, Matthew Paris tells us, that "in con- 
 sequence of some hasty words which passed between 
 them, John de Warrenne, earl of Surry, slew with 
 his own hand, in Westminster Hall, Alan de la Zouch, 
 the king's justiciary." This was clearly no ordinary 
 
80 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 
 
 offence, and the earl, in just alarm, fled to his castle 
 at Reigate. The prince immediately took the matter 
 in hand, gathered a sufficient force, and invested the 
 castle. The earl saw that there was but one course 
 left for him : he issued forth, unarmed, and threw him- 
 self on the prince's mercy. He was carried to London, 
 where, after some consideration, a fine of 10,000 
 marks, — a very large sum, — was imposed upon him, 
 and after some imprisonment, his pardon was granted. 
 Much about the same time, an incident occurred, 
 in the course of Edward's labors for the pacifica- 
 tion of the country, which can hardly be passed 
 over. In the forest near Alton in Hampshire, there 
 dwelt a noted leader of free lances, named Adam 
 Gordon, or Gourdon, whose exploits made him the 
 terror of the neighbourhood. The prince, hearing 
 of his fame, sought him out, and at last caught 
 sight of him, one evening, just as he and his fol- 
 lowers were retiring into their fastnesses. Desiring 
 his attendants not to interfere, Edward leaped the 
 ditch, and at once engaged Gordon in single combat. 
 Both being valorous knights and skilled in arms, the 
 issue was long in doubt. At last, sajs Matthew of 
 Westminster, Gordon was wounded, and yielded him- 
 self. Edward, always delighted to meet " a focman 
 worthy of his steel," instantly received his submis- 
 sion, ordered his servants to bind up his wounds, 
 took him into his favor, and presented him, that 
 niglit, to the queen his mother, at her castle at 
 Guildford. He became from that time attached to 
 p]dward's service, and proved himself a faithful fol- 
 lower and friend*. 
 
 t- See Appendix B. 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 81 
 
 The old chroniclers give us another anecdote of 
 a similar kind. Edward was amusing himself, on 
 one occasion, with his hawks, and one of the lords 
 in attendance overlooked a falcon who had made a 
 stoop on a duck among the willows. The prince re- 
 buked him rather sharply ; and the other answered, 
 with some pertness, that " he was glad the river was 
 between them ! " Instantly Edward had plunged 
 into the stream, careless of its depth, and having 
 with some difficulty urged his horse up the opposite 
 bank, he pursued the offender, sword in hand. The 
 other, knowing the prince, immediately flung off his 
 cap, bared his neck, and approaching with signs of 
 submission, threw himself on the prince's mercy. 
 Edward's wrath sank as quickly as it had risen ; he 
 sheathed his weapon, gave instant forgiveness, and 
 the two rode home in amity together. 
 
 In these incidents we see Edward's real charac- 
 ter. Irascible and impetuous, whoever dared his 
 anger soon found that he had roused a lion. But 
 no one ever had a more noble or a more susceptible 
 heart ; and to crave his mercy, unless justice for- 
 bade, was to have it. In the course of a reign 
 of five-and-thirty years, a few — a very few — cases 
 occurred, in which forgiveness would have involved 
 a moral wrong : but the general habit of his mind 
 was vividly expressed, when, towards the end of his 
 reign, his judges suggested, in a special case, that he 
 might shew mercy, if he chose to do so. ^^ May 
 shew mercy!" was Edward's indignant reply, "why, 
 I will do that for a dog, if he seeks my grace !" 
 
 It was in the year already denoted, 1269, that all 
 enemies having been subdued, the prince began to 
 call to mind a vow which he had made in his time 
 
82 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 
 
 of trouble, that he would pay, according to the cus- 
 tom of the times, a religious visit to the Holy Land. 
 In this purpose, too, he was furthered and encou- 
 raged by Louis, — Saint Louis, — the eminently reli- 
 gious king of France. Bent upon a similar design, 
 Louis " sent special messengers to Edward, entreat- 
 ing an interview." The prince soon crossed the 
 channel, and the French king, "after closely em- 
 bracing him," explained, that he purposed immedi- 
 ately to revisit the Holy Land, and that he greatly 
 desired to have his company in that enterprise. " In 
 fact," says Matthew Paris, "Edward was a man of 
 such courage, daring, and puissance*," that the king 
 " desired above all other things to have such a com- 
 panion." 
 
 But to visit Palestine as a princely crusader, at 
 the head of a suitable array, was a different thing 
 from visiting it as a pilgrim-knight, kneeling at the 
 holy places in fulfilment of a vow. " JNly lord," 
 said Edward, " you know that the substance of 
 England has been wasted in the late civil war, and 
 my means are not sufficient to carry out such an 
 undertaking with such a personage as yourself." 
 The king instantly answered, " I will gladly lend 
 you 30,000 marks, — or, in fact, I will give you 
 that sum, if you will only comply with my Avishes." 
 So urged, the prince consented ; returning home, 
 however, though he was now in his thirtieth year, 
 "to obtain permission of the king his father, which 
 was given, though not without tears." 
 
 We see a proof of the entire pacification of 
 England in this purpose of the prince, and in his 
 
 * " Mighty in arms." — INIattlicw of Westminster. 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE TTATERS. 83 
 
 father's consent, given without any difficulty. In 
 truth, there was now no lono^er " any adversary, or 
 evil occurrent." The only one of the great barons 
 whose uncertain temper might have caused some 
 disquiet, — the earl of Gloucester, — was induced to 
 accompany the prince ; and in the spring of 1270, 
 we find Edward and his beloved consort, Eleanor, 
 embarking at Portsmouth for Bourdeaux, whence 
 the English division of the crusading army was to 
 sail for Syria. The princess resolved to brave the 
 perils of the East, despite all the remonstrances of 
 her female friends. She had to bid farewell, also, 
 to her two young sons, Avhom she never saw again. 
 They both died of some infantile disorder before 
 she returned to Endand. 
 
 The king of France, whose whole soul was en- 
 gaged in an enterprise which he regarded as one 
 eminently religious, moved with an army of 60,000 
 men, on this, the last great crusade. Prince Edward 
 carried with him his brother Edmund, his cousin 
 Henry, four earls, four barons, and about a thousand 
 men. But this small force had a great captain at 
 its head ; while the French army, wanting such a 
 leader, lost its way, never arrived on the scene of 
 action, suffered dreadfully from sickness, and at last 
 left Edward, with his inconsiderable force, to do all 
 that might be done. 
 
 When he reached Sicilv, Edward heard that Acre 
 was besieged by the Turks, and was in great peril. 
 He sent the garrison a promise of relief. But day 
 after day passed over, and no tidings were heard 
 of the French armv. It was at Tunis, sufferins: 
 from disease. Discouragement at these delays be- 
 gan to spread, and many found excuses for returning 
 
 g3 
 
84 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS 
 
 home. One of these was Henry, the son of the earl 
 of Cornwall, and cousin of the prince. He quitted the 
 expedition, and set out on his return; but fell into 
 a greater danger than those which he had left behind 
 him. At Viterbo, in Italy, he was met by Simon 
 and Guy de Montfort, who watched him while enter- 
 ing a church, and followed and slew him on the very 
 steps of the altar. This was their revenge for their 
 father's death at Evesham. That death had been in 
 a great measure caused by their own pride and arro- 
 gance, which had raised up many foes. And now, 
 as wretched outlaws, they showed themselves as 
 unable to bear adversity with fortitude, as they had 
 been to use prosperity with discretion. 
 
 All hope of the arrival of the French forces 
 began to vanish, and Acre was in imminent danger. 
 Many of Edward's followers proposed an abandon- 
 ment of the expedition, and several actually took 
 their departure. But Edward had promised the Acre 
 garrison that they should have relief ; and to " keep 
 his word " was at all times a first principle of action 
 with him. He struck his breast, when others ex- 
 horted him to retreat, and declared that were he left 
 with no other follower than his groom, to Acre he 
 would go. Those who remained, animated by his 
 example, pledged themselves to be true to him ; and 
 without any further delay, they departed for Syria. 
 Entering Acre, the prince found, that but for the 
 aid he had brought, the place would have been sur- 
 rendered on the fourth day following. 
 
 " All the Latins in Palestine now crowded round 
 the banner of the English prince, and he soon took 
 the field at the head of 7,000 men." He stormed 
 and took Nazareth, defeating a Saracen force which 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 85 
 
 came to its relief. A few days after, he met them 
 again at a place called by Hemingford, "Kakehowe," 
 and again defeated them, inflicting on them the loss 
 of 1,000 men. 
 
 Bnt the Saracens began now to dread the arm of 
 this second Coeur de Lion ; and in despair of coping 
 with him in fair and equal warfare, they sent to him, 
 with some pretended message, an " assassin." This 
 messenger, obtaining a private interview, contrived 
 to divert the prince's attention another way, and in 
 an instant had inflicted three wounds with a poignard. 
 But he had not reached a vital part, and he was 
 in the hands of a man of valour and decision. In 
 an instant he was hurled to the ground, and de- 
 spatched, either with his own dagger, or with a stool 
 suddenly snatched up. The prince's attendants 
 rushed in on hearing the scuffle, and fell upon the 
 prostrate wretch, till the prince asked them, what was 
 the use of striking a man who was dead^ ? 
 
 The wounds given by the assassins were generally 
 considered to be poisoned ; and it is certain that in 
 Edward's case, although the hurts were not in them- 
 selves mortal, the surgeons found that the wounds 
 refused to heal. Much anxiety was felt, and Edward 
 perceived from the looks of his attendants, that they 
 entertained fears. He asked them, without hesita- 
 tion, " What is it that you are whispering about ? 
 Cannot I be cured ? Tell me, and do not be afraid." 
 The English surgeon replied at once, " You may be 
 
 * The prince's minstrel is mentioned as fonvard in this at- 
 tack on the slain assassin : hy which we leam, that the prince, 
 besides the attendance of Beck and Burnel, two churchmen of 
 distinguished talent, and of one or two able phj-sicians, had also 
 a musician of his own among his suite. 
 
86 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 
 
 cured, but it can only be effected by an operation of 
 a painful kind." The prince answered, " Do you 
 promise me a cure if I submit to it ? " The surgeon 
 answered, " I will answer for your cure." To which 
 Edward replied, "Then I put myself wholly into 
 your hands ; do with me what you will." The sur- 
 geon said, "Are there any of your friends here in 
 whom you can entirely trust ? " The prince named 
 several, especially his brother Edmund, and the lord 
 de Vesci. The surgeon then said to these two, " Do 
 you love your lord ?" They said, " Yes." " Then," 
 said he, " carry this lady away, and let not her lord 
 see her again until I tell you." So the princess was 
 carried out, weeping and crying aloud. But they 
 said to her, " Permit us, lady, — for it is better that 
 you should weep, than that all England should have 
 to make lamentation*." 
 
 This attempt at assassination having failed, the 
 soldan, professing ignorance of the crime, proposed 
 a treaty of peace. Edward, disappointed of the 
 expected support of France, and feeling the insuf- 
 ficiency of his own resources, willingly accepted the 
 proposal, and agreed to bring his short but brilliant 
 enterprise to a conclusion. In July 1272, the English 
 quitted Palestine, proceeding first to Sicily, and 
 thence to Naples, and to Civita Yecchia, where the 
 papal court was then residing. Here the prince 
 asked and obtained from the pope an official con- 
 demnation of Simon and Guy de Montfort, and 
 
 * A Spanish writer, relating this story two centuries after, adds 
 a romantic incident which has found its way into most of our 
 histories. But it is read in no contemporary writer ; and there- 
 fore can deserve no place in authentic history. See Appendix C. 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 87 
 
 of air other persons concerned in his cousin's as- 
 sassination. 
 
 It was in Sicily that the tidings reached Edward, 
 first, of the death of his eldest son, and, soon after, 
 of his father's decease, which called him to the 
 throne of Endand. His host, the Sicilian king-, was 
 surprised to observe the deeper grief with which the 
 latter news was received ; and expressed some as- 
 tonishment, that the loss of an aged parent should 
 seem to affect Edward more than that of his eldest 
 child. The prince made the natural and simple re- 
 mark, that other children might replace that which 
 he had lost ; but that he could never have another 
 father. 
 
 Various incidents of this kind, at different periods 
 of his life, leave no room to doubt that Edward was 
 distinguished by the warmth of his natural affections. 
 He could not be blind to the failings of his parents ; 
 yet was his attachment to both of them most un- 
 questionable and most sincere. As we proceed with 
 our storv, we shall observe the same warmth of feel- 
 ing towards his mother, his wife, and his children. 
 And it is the more needful to remark these 
 things, inasmuch as the union of so high an intellect 
 and so resolute a will, with affections so warm and 
 so pure, is not of common occurrence ; and the chief 
 injustice which has been done to Edward in modern 
 times, has consisted in denying to him all the softer 
 and gentler emotions of the heart. A greater wrong 
 has scarcely ever been perpetrated to the memory of 
 a departed hero. " Edward," says old John Foxe, 
 " had always been a loving child to his father, — 
 whom he had delivered out of prison and captivity, 
 — and Almighty God, for his piety shewn to his 
 
88 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 
 
 father, rewarded him with great success, felicity, and 
 long reign." 
 
 He was, also, through life, a man of sincerely 
 religious feelings. The period, indeed, in which he 
 lived, was one of the thickest gloom, — not even a 
 Wicklif or a Huss, those forerunners of the reforma- 
 tion, having yet appeared. Hence the faith of a 
 Bernard, an Anselm, or a Grossetete, was the best 
 and highest which any man in Edward's position 
 could be expected to possess. But some such faith 
 as this seems to shine out at various periods of his 
 eventful career. For his deliverance from the usurp- 
 ation of earl Simon, a vow was offered, and his 
 pilgrimage to the Holy Land was the fulfilment of 
 that vow. At several other periods, similar vows 
 seem to have been made. One of these is particularly 
 noted by some of the chroniclers of his day. He 
 was engaged, on a particular occasion, in a game of 
 chess with a friend, when some sudden call summoned 
 him from the table. He had scarcely quitted his 
 seat, when a ponderous stone fell upon the very spot 
 where he had been sitting, — a stone whose weight 
 would have crushed him, had he remained there. 
 Immediately a pilgrimage to a celebrated shrine 
 expressed his thankfulness. " In this preservation," 
 says old Foxe, " I see the hand and mighty provi- 
 dence of the living God ; but in Edward I note a 
 fault or error worthy of reprehension, in that he, 
 after receiving such a lively benefit at the hand of 
 the living God, gave thanks, not only to God, but also 
 to a rotten block." 
 
 ''If there be a willing mind," says St. Paul, "it 
 is accepted according to that a man hath^ and not 
 according to that he hath not." (2 Cor. viii. 12.) 
 
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATEES. 89 
 
 We have already remarked, that the period in which 
 Edward lived, was that of the thickest gloom of 
 mediaeval darkness. Yet even in this midnight of 
 the christian church, a few lights were distinguishable. 
 Scarcely in the whole range of ecclesiastical history 
 do we meet with a brighter example than that left, in 
 Edward's day, by Grossetete, " holy bishop Eobert," 
 of Lincoln : whom Foxe designates " this godly and 
 learned bishop," — "this reverend and godly bishop." 
 Yet Grrossetete, we cannot doubt, offered up the mass, 
 and in all probability prayed for the dead. Huss 
 and Jerome died as martyrs ; yet they had scarcely 
 cast off any of those superstitions which, to us, form 
 the external deformities of Popery. Luther himself, 
 a century after Wicklif had preached and written, 
 remained a devoted Papist long after he had become 
 an earnest Christian : and, in like manner, we must 
 regard Edward, not with reference to absolute truth, 
 but to that measure of truth which had been made 
 known to him ; trusting, that if, in the highest kind 
 of knowledge, only a single talent had been bestowed 
 upon him, still in the use of that one talent, he 
 shewed so honest and hearty a sedulity, as might 
 gain, at last, the approving award, — " Thou hast 
 been faithful over a few things ; enter thou into the 
 joy of thy Lord." 
 
CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 I. CORONATION— PAELIAMENT— FIRST SEVEN YEARS. 
 
 A.D. 1272—1278. 
 
 King Henry the Third died at Westminster on 
 the 16tli of November, 1272, and was buried on the 
 20th, in front of the great altar, in that noble church, 
 upon the re-edification of which he had lavished so 
 much treasure which he could but poorly spare. 
 On the same day, before the tomb had been closed, 
 the great men of the realm, the earl Warrenne, the 
 earl of Grloucester, and all the chief of the clergy 
 and laity then present, went forward to the high 
 altar, and swore fealty to the absent prince, — now 
 king of England. Three guardians, or regents, im- 
 mediately entered upon the government in the king's 
 absence : — namely, Edmund, son of the late earl of 
 Cornwall, brother to Henry HI. ; Walter, archbishop 
 of York ; and Gilbert, earl of Gloucester. So entire 
 was the loyalty and submission of all classes to the 
 new king, that the affairs of the realm were carried 
 on without difficulty during an absence of nearly two 
 years ; and the king shewed, by the deliberateness 
 of his approach, his entire reliance on the attachment 
 of the people to his person. 
 
 He appears to have been in Sicily or Italy when 
 the tidings of his father's death reached him. Before 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. Si 
 
 his visit to the pope at Oivita Yecchia had terminated, 
 he was known throughout Italy to be king of England; 
 and as he proceeded through Tuscany and northern 
 Italy, " the people of all the cities came forth to meet 
 him, with processions and trumpets, and with loud 
 acclamations of " Long live king Edward !" While 
 passing through that country, he received an invita- 
 tion or challenge to a grand tournament, which was 
 about to be given by the count of Chalons, a noble- 
 man of some fame, and a knight of great strength and 
 stature. A hint was given to Edward by the pope, 
 that some mischief was intended, and that, as a king, 
 he was under no obligation to accept such a challenge; 
 but Edward would not stoop to avail himself of such 
 a privilege ; fear being a sentiment to him quite 
 unknown. Meanwhile, many of the English nobility 
 and gentry had gone to meet him, so that he rode 
 into Chalons at the head of 1,000 men. But the 
 count had assembled more than twice that number ; 
 and it was soon seen that a determination had been 
 taken to humble the English. Hemingford says, that 
 " the Burgundians, in their confident boastings, had 
 been bargaining over their wine-cups, for some days 
 before, for the horses and armour of the English, 
 already, in imagination, discomfited." 
 
 The tournament opened, and the count, as cham- 
 pion of Burgundy, naturally encountered the Eng- 
 lish king. But his strength and skill failed to give 
 him any triumph over Edward. Probably his lance 
 shivered in the encounter ; for we find that, at last, 
 throwing away his weapons, he had recourse to mere 
 bodily strength and weight. Grasping Edward round 
 the neck, he strove to pull him from his horse. But 
 to dismount the king of England was a feat which no 
 
92 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 one had ever yet accomplished. Edward gave his 
 horse the spur, — the noble steed sprang forward, and 
 the ponderous Burgundian was dragged from his 
 saddle and thrown upon the ground. The king, enraged 
 at this barbarous kind of warfare, chastised the count 
 while on the ground with the staff of his lance, and 
 refused to accept his sword, — obliging him to give it 
 up to a mere man-at-arms, — a sore disgrace for a 
 knight and a noble. But now defeat had spread exas- 
 peration among the count's party. Many were killed 
 on both sides, and the tournament became "a little 
 battle." When the Burgundians were chased off the 
 field, the townspeople wounded many of the English ; 
 until Edward was obliged at last to threaten that he 
 would burn the town. The English knights, at last, 
 at their leisure withdrew, having carried off all the 
 honors of the combat. 
 
 Edward next visited the king of France, and did 
 homage for all the territories which he held of him as 
 superior lord. He then passed northward to Gas- 
 cony, where he found it needful to take measures 
 against a troublesome noble, named Gaston de 
 Bierne. He also had affairs to arrange with the 
 countess of Limousin, and the countess of Flanders, 
 which detained him some time longer. At last, in 
 July 1274, he began his journey homewards, and on 
 the 2nd of August, he landed at Dover. The two 
 great earls, Warrenne and Gloucester, were the first 
 to greet his arrival ; and he became, in turn, the 
 guest of each, at their castles of Reigate and Tun- 
 bridge. Aweek given to each of these noblemen, filled 
 up the time between the king's arrival and his coro- 
 nation. 
 
 On the 19th of August, 1274, this ceremony took 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 9S 
 
 place. Edward, now king, and beyond all doubt the 
 most popular king that England had known since the 
 days of Alfred, was crowned at Westminster, with his 
 beloved Eleanor, by Robert Kilwardby, archbishop of 
 Canterbury. There were present, besides all the great 
 men of the realm, Edward's two brothers by marriage, 
 — Alexander, king of Scotland, and John, duke of 
 Bretagne, with their consorts, the sisters of the king. 
 On the following day king Alexander of Scotland 
 paid his accustomed homage. 
 
 The feast was one of royal magnificence. The 
 orders given are still extant ; and they include 380 
 head of cattle; 430 sheep; 450 pigs; 18 wild boars; 
 278 flitches of bacon, and nearly 20,000 capons or 
 fowls. Provision was made for a fortnight's festivity ; 
 for the king's hospitality was so extensive, that 
 although many new buildings had been erected, it 
 was impossible to find room for all the guests, except 
 by a feast continued during many days. The citizens 
 of London warmly participated in the public rejoicing ; 
 — their streets being hung with tapestry; the conduits 
 flowing with wine ; and the wealthier men scattering 
 handfuls of silver out of their windows to the people. 
 The great nobles had devised a still more costly kind 
 of liberality. The chroniclers tell us, that " when 
 the king was seated on his tlirone, king Alexander of 
 Scotland came to do him worship, and with him an 
 hundred knights, mounted and accoutered : and when 
 they had lighted off their horses, they let the horses 
 go whither they would, and they that could catch them 
 had them to their own behoof. And after these came 
 sir Edmund, the king's brother ; and with him the 
 earl of Gloucester ; and after them came the earl of 
 Pembroke and the earl Warren ne ; and each of these 
 
91 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 led an hundred knights, who also, when they had 
 alighted, let their horses go, and they that could take 
 them, had them to their liliing," 
 
 Such was Edward's welcome to his throne ; and 
 never did prince more entirely deserve, or more heartily 
 return, the love of his people, than he who was now 
 opening, amidst all this rejoicing, " his active and 
 splendid reign." 
 
 But now, the feast being ended, and the sound of 
 the trumpets having ceased, let us begin the real 
 business of the new reign. The subject needs a 
 careful consideration, for we know of no portion of 
 history, the facts of which are ascertainable and 
 within reach, which has been so grossly distorted 
 and misrepresented, as that of the first twenty years 
 of this king's reign. 
 
 One of the most able of all our modern historians* 
 commences his narrative, after an opening paragraph, 
 in the following terms : — 
 
 " Laying aside his disputes with his neighbours as 
 a French prince, his active and splendid reign may 
 be considered as an attempt to subject the whole 
 island of Great Britain to his sway." 
 
 Another justly, esteemed writerf tells us, that : 
 
 " The reign of Edward was that of a prince 
 whose sedate judgment and active talents advanced 
 the civilization and power of his country. It may 
 be considered under four heads : — his incorporation 
 of Wales ; his wars in Scotland ; his foreign trans- 
 actions ; and liis internal regulations." 
 
 Hume, Henry, Hallam, and most other modern 
 
 * Sir J. Mackintosh. f Mr. Sliaron Turner. 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 96 
 
 writers, take the same course ; fixing their eyes chiefly 
 on the invasion of Scotland, and the contest with the 
 two earls ; and forgetting that Edward had reigned 
 for nearly a quarter of a century before either of 
 these occurrences took place. They thus, with one 
 consent, persist in taking a telescopic view of this 
 reign ; placing a glass to their ej^s which brings dis- 
 tant objects near, but which throws quite out of view 
 those which are close at hand. But, like all other 
 departures from truth, this course is essentially un- 
 just. It is as if an historian should commence his 
 narrative of the reign of George III. with a sketch 
 of the French revolution ; or open a biography of 
 the duke of Wellington with an account of his op- 
 position to the Heform Bill. 
 
 The simplest way of rectifying all these untrue 
 representations, is, by a plain and accurate statement 
 of the facts, in their own order. It is only necessary 
 to narrate the several events, just as they really 
 occurred ; and all these fictions at once vanish away. 
 But as " annals," properly so called, or records of 
 events recounted year by year, might be too formal to 
 retain any interest, we will group the events of five or 
 six years in each chapter, and in this manner we 
 shall soon accomplish a survey of the first twenty 
 years. 
 
 Edward's arrival in England, then, and his coro- 
 nation, took place in the autumn of 1274. Imme- 
 diately after this, he would naturally find a great 
 variety of questions waiting for his decision ; questions 
 concerning the various establishments of the crown, 
 its castles, palaces, forests, the royal household, and 
 the royal revenues ; all of which were now, for the 
 first time for at least a century, to be put into 
 
96 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 a state of order and efficiency. The regulation of 
 all these affairs would necessarily occupy the re- 
 maining weeks of the year, and we can feel no sur- 
 prise that the meeting of Edward's first parliament 
 did not take place until February 1275. In this year 
 the actual business of the reign commenced. And 
 in what manner does it commence ? Surely it is 
 strange, that no historian should have pointed out, 
 with any sort of emphasis or particularity, this great 
 epoch, — the real daybreak of the English constitution. 
 Most writers have been led astray by the mere 
 phrase " Parliament," and have indulged in re- 
 searches and disquisitions on the early history of 
 those assemblies. Much discussion has taken place on 
 the question, whether Simon de Montfort, or Edward, 
 ought to have had the credit of first adding the 
 borough representatives to the English parliament^. 
 But such questions are comparatively insignificant 
 and immaterial. "Councils," though not until Ed- 
 ward's time called " Parliaments," had existed in 
 former reigns ; but they were merely called to de- 
 liberate on granting the king "an aid." Never, 
 until the very end of Henry Illd's reign, when the 
 prince's influence began to be felt, was any par- 
 liament asked to assist in making any laws. In like 
 manner, parliaments existed in France under the 
 most despotic of the Bourbons, and under more 
 recent despotisms still, without implying the existence 
 of liberty ; for these parliaments were not, properly 
 speaking, Legislatures. It is the peculiar gloiy of 
 Edward's reign, that he first, and perhaps alone, 
 among all the sovereigns of the mediasval time, had 
 
 * See Appendix D. 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 97 
 
 the wisdom to conceive, and the noble courage to 
 carry into execution, a plan by which the people 
 should take part in their own government, and should 
 assist in snaking the laivs under which they ivere to 
 live. From the first moment of his assuming any 
 influence or power, the two ideas, of a system of 
 Laws, and of a Legislature in which the people should 
 participate, seem to have been always present in his 
 mind. These principles were again and again enun- 
 ciated, and always with increased breadth and fulness, 
 during his whole life, — advancing years having no 
 efi'ect in chilling or contracting that noble heart. 
 During his reign of five-and-thirty years, we shall 
 find the popular branch of the legislature continually 
 growing and increasing under the king's fostering 
 care ; the first idea appearing in the preamble to the 
 Statute of Marlborough, in his father's reign ; and 
 the latest parliament of his own, which met in 1307, 
 containing representatives from no fewer than a hun- 
 dred and sixty-five of the cities and boroughs of 
 England. 
 
 John Locke, when describing, four centuries after, 
 the nature and characteristics of a free state, said : — 
 " The freedom of men under government is, to have 
 a standing rule to live by, common to every one of 
 that society, and made by the legislative power 
 erected in it." Hence, he argues, " absolute monarchy 
 is inconsistent with civil society, and so can be no 
 * form of civil government ' at all." For the very 
 object, he urges, " of civil society, is, to authorize a 
 legislature to make laws for us, as the public good 
 shall require." In a state of nature, he adds, "there 
 wants an established, settled, known law ; received 
 and allowed by common consent to be the standard 
 
 H 
 
98 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 of right and wrong ; and the common measure to 
 decide all controversies between them." And it is, 
 he reminds us, from a sense of the want of this, that 
 men give up the freedom of a state of nature, and 
 join together in civil society. Now, under the Nor- 
 man kings, absolute monarchy, checked only by the 
 power of the great barons, had been the system of 
 government in England. The only abatement or 
 modification known, was that vouchsafed in certain 
 charters, which were in most cases merely local, 
 and which the king usually assumed to exist only 
 during his pleasure. Magna Charta was the first 
 great blow struck at the fortress of despotism ; but 
 Magna Charta, while it was, indeed, a great and 
 noble statute, said nothing about either laws or 
 legislatures for future times. It is noticed in a 
 public document, as " remarkable, that no article of 
 Magna Charta has reference to the previous existence 
 of any assembly for the purpose of legislation; or 
 contains any provision for the calling of any such 
 assembly for the future." Soon after this began the 
 transition-period of the weak and incapable Henry. 
 Our present statute book ojjens with his reign. But 
 during those fifty-six years, only six laws or decrees 
 were framed. The first of these is styled " the Pro- 
 visions of Merton," and it recites, that *' it was 
 provided at the court of our lord the king, held at 
 Merton." Next comes "the Statute of Ireland," 
 which is merely a royal proclamation. Twcnlij years 
 pass over, and then we have " a Provision for Leap- 
 year," which is also a royal proclamation. Next, 
 three years after, " Provisions made by the king and 
 his council." Then, seven years after, " the Dictum 
 of Kenilworth," which is only '* an award between 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 99 
 
 the king and his commons." But lastly^ towards 
 the end of Henry's reign, and when prince Edward 
 naturally began to take the lead in the king's council, 
 we find for the first time, a Statute, — the first docu- 
 ment so called, — in the preamble of which it is 
 recounted, that "the more discreet men of the realm 
 being called together." 
 
 Edward, and John Locke, lived in different ages ; 
 but the king, in his day, was as wise and as just 
 as the philosopher in his ; and if Edward had no 
 John Locke to guide him, he had one of a very 
 kindred spirit. Old Bracton, one of the earliest and 
 ablest of our English lawyers, had thus written : — 
 "The king ought not to be subject to man, but to 
 God, and to the law ; for the law maketh the king. 
 Let the king, therefore, render to the law, what 
 the law hath invested in him with regard to 
 others, — dominion and power : for he is not truly 
 king where will and pleasure rule, and not the law." 
 And again, " The king also hath a superior : namely, 
 God; and also the law, by which he was made a king." 
 
 Voluntarily, therefore, and right royally, does 
 Edward stand forth, at once, in the very opening of 
 his reign, as a legislator. Powerful in arms, and 
 strong in the goodwill of his people, it was open to 
 him, in the fullest sense of the word, to choose his 
 own course ; and, without hesitation, he takes up, as 
 his first and most urgent duty, the task of providing 
 his people with wholesome laws. But, at the outset, 
 and as a principle inseparably connected, he asso- 
 ciates with the work of legislation, the twin-idea of 
 a legislature. No demand is addressed to him ; no 
 "pressure from without" is applied. He might, had 
 he chosen to do so, have promulgated, like his father, 
 
 H 3 
 
100 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 "Provisions made in the court of our lord the 
 king." But he chose the nobler and the wiser 
 course. From the very first, he associated the people 
 with himself in the work of legislation ; and accord- 
 ingly, noiv, for the first time, do these all-important 
 words appear on the statute book of England : — 
 
 " These be the Acts of king Edward, made at 
 Westminster, at the first parliament general after 
 his coronation; by his council, and by the assent 
 of archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, and all tlie 
 commonalty of the realm, thither summoned." 
 
 This fact ought not to be overlooked ; inasmuch 
 as many of our historians shew a disposition to re- 
 present the very existence of the house of Commons 
 as having arisen from the necessities of the crown. 
 But this is one of those fictions with which the 
 history of this reign is so commonly encumbered. 
 It was in the very morning of Edward's power and 
 popularity, and when his course was entirely in his 
 own choice, that he unhesitatingly enunciated the 
 same principle which in all his after-life he steadily 
 maintained ; that " what concerns all, should be by 
 all approved ; and that common dangers should 
 be met by remedies provided in common^ The 
 structure and machinery, indeed, of the house of 
 Commons received enlargements and improvements 
 from time to time ; but the principle upon which it 
 rests came forth, complete, from the noble and fear- 
 less mind of this great king. 
 
 In some way or other, then, " the Commonalty " 
 was summoned even to this, Edward's first parlia- 
 ment. Possibly, " la Communaute de la Terre " 
 may have meant, the chief tenants of the crown, or 
 the principal citizens of the metropolis, thereto called 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 101 
 
 or invited. The fact itself, however, is alluded to by 
 more than one of the old chroniclers"^. 
 
 So much for the legislature ; in principle already 
 perfect, but in form to be largely improved and ex- 
 tended in future years. Now let us look, for a 
 moment, at the legislation. And in what a frank 
 and noble strain opens the great " Statute of West- 
 minster :" — 
 
 " Because our lord the king hath great desire to 
 redress the state of the realm in such things as re- 
 quire amendment : for the common profit of the holy 
 church and of the realm ; and because the state of 
 the holy church hath been evil kept, and the people 
 otherwise entreated than they ought to be ; and the 
 peace less kept, and the laws less used, and offenders 
 less punished than they ought to be, — the king hath 
 ordained, by his council, and by the assent of arch- 
 bishops, bishops, earls, barons, and all the common- 
 alty of the realm, these Acts underwritten, which he 
 intendeth to be necessary and profitable to the whole 
 realm." 
 
 But what was the statute itself, which is thus re- 
 commended by its framers ? Let lord Campbell, the 
 present lord chancellor of England, answer this 
 question. He says, — 
 
 " The Statute of Westminster deserves the name 
 of a CODE, rather than an act of parliament. Its 
 object was, to correct abuses, to supply defects, and 
 to remodel the administration of justice." . . . "It 
 protects the property of the church from violence 
 and spoliation : It provides for the freedom of popu- 
 lar elections: It contains a strong declaration to 
 
 * Annals of Waverly, etc. 
 
102 THE FIKST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 enforce the enactments of Magna Cliarta against 
 excessive fines : It enumerates and corrects the 
 great abuses of tenure ; particularly with regard to 
 the marriage of wards : It regulates the levying of 
 tolls: It corrects and restrains the power of the 
 king's escheator, and other officers under the crown : 
 It amends the criminal law : It embraces the subject 
 of procedure, both in civil and criminal matters ; in- 
 troducing many regulations with a view to render it 
 cheaper, more simple, and more expeditious." 
 
 Such, then, was the first great Act of Edward's 
 reign. Even if it had remained alone, it would have 
 merited especial praise and honor ; how much more 
 so, when it was merely the first step in a long course 
 of wise and upright legislation ? But, simultaneously 
 with the calling of, this memorable parliament at 
 Westminster, — the beginning of English parliamentary 
 legislation, — otlier important reforms were under- 
 taken and energetically carried on. Edward had 
 seen with an observing eye the disorders and calami- 
 ties of his father's reign ; and had traced them back 
 to their principal source, — the negligent improvi- 
 dence which pervaded the management of the royal 
 revenues. At once, therefore, without waiting for the 
 meeting of parliament, he issued a royal commission, 
 to ascertain and report to him, without delay, the 
 royalties and revenues appertaining to the crown ; the 
 state and particulars of the crown lands, with the 
 tenants and the terms of their tenure. Thus, pro- 
 bably before a year had elapsed, Edward was provided 
 with a correct view of the revenues on which he 
 might ordinarily rely ; and so judiciously were these 
 revenues managed, during the whole of his reign, 
 that, while he never applied to parliament for aid, 
 
THE FIKST ENGLISH KING. 103 
 
 except on public and special grounds, he was at all 
 times enabled to exert a truly royal munificence ; 
 dispensing liberal rewards to all who served him, and 
 being largely charitable to the poor. 
 
 One transaction of national moment had taken 
 place, while Edward was on his journey, which both 
 augmented his popularity, and also helped to increase 
 his revenues. About the time of his departure for the 
 East, a quarrel sprang up between England and Flan- 
 ders, which, for two or three years, sorely troubled 
 both countries. The countess of Flanders imagined 
 that she had a claim upon king Henry for a yearly pen- 
 sion of five hundred marks ; and finding some diffi- 
 culty made as to its payment, she took the summary 
 and violent course of confiscating all the property 
 of English merchants which was found in the ware- 
 houses of Flanders. In taking this arbitrary step, 
 she evidently calculated on the weakness of the aged 
 king, and on the absence of the prince in the Holy 
 Land. Eeprisals naturally followed, and the quarrel 
 soon grew into bitterness and rancour. News of this 
 state of things reached Edward while on his journey 
 home, and, with his usual sagacity and decision, he 
 sent orders immediately to stop the export of wool. 
 This reduced the manufactories of Flanders to a state 
 of paralysis and destitution, and forced the countess 
 to seek for peace. By Edward's appointment, her 
 son met him at Montreuil in July 1274 ; and in a 
 few days a treaty was concluded. In this treaty 
 Edward took care to insist upon a clause, providing 
 full compensation for those English merchants who 
 had suffered the loss of their goods. With this treaty 
 in his hand, Edward landed in August at Dover. The 
 merchants were naturally well pleased with this 
 
104 THE FIRST ENGLI.SH KING. 
 
 instance of the king's attention to their interests ; and 
 they at once proposed, as an acknowledgment, to 
 submit to a duty of half-a-mark on every sack of 
 wool exported, and a mark on every last of leather. 
 These duties were accordingly granted to the king in 
 the parliament of 1275 ; and we here again notice 
 the king's spontaneous assertion of the fundamental 
 principle of a free government. It is broadly stated 
 in the ^' Grant of the New Customs," that it is " made 
 by the archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, and 
 ' communitates ' of the kingdom of England." From 
 the opening of his reign to its close, the king shews 
 a constant readiness to recognize, as an essential 
 part of the commonwealth, ^' the commonalty of the 
 realm of England." 
 
 Another royal commission was also issued about 
 this time, to inquire into the position and general 
 conduct of the sheriffs, bailiffs, and other local officers. 
 One judicious regulation soon grew out of these 
 inquiries ; by which it was provided, that the sheriffs 
 should be chosen exclusively from among those who 
 were possessed of landed property within their re- 
 spective counties. 
 
 The controversy with Wales, and with its prince, 
 Llewellyn, now began to open. It will be necessary 
 to look into it with calmness and an enquiring spirit ; 
 seeing that this is one of the great transactions of 
 Edward's life, concerning which our ancient and our 
 modern historians are completely at variance. Our 
 old chroniclers describe the king as "slow to all 
 manner of strife:" — our moderns represent him as 
 hurried by his active energy and his restless ambition 
 to " undertake the enterprise " of the conquest of 
 Wales. Let us, then, endeavour to trace, step by step, 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 105 
 
 the progress of the quarrel, and thus we shall arrive 
 at a just conclusion, whether the earlier view, or 
 the later, is the nearest to the truth. 
 
 To Edward's coronation, the prince of TTales, as 
 well as the king of Scotland, had been summoned. 
 The Scottish king appeared, took a foremost place in 
 the solemnity, and, the next day, paid the homage which 
 was Edward's due. But Llewellyn was absent. He 
 did not dispute the king's claim, — on that point not 
 a doubt was ever started ; but he alleged that there 
 was so much enmity between him and some of the 
 lords marchers, that he could not visit the English 
 metropolis without peril. 
 
 Edward shewed no resentment at the prince's 
 absence; on the contrary, to meet the difficulty 
 which he had started, he offered to go to Shrews- 
 bury, and to receive Llewellyn's homage there ; but 
 the Welsh prince still raised objections. At this 
 point, had there been any eagerness on Edward's 
 side to provoke a quarrel, he might have sent a 
 peremptory summons ; and might, on Llewellyn's 
 continued disobedience, have pronounced him con- 
 tumacious, and his fief a forfeiture. 
 
 But he took no such measures. He reserved the 
 question for the consideration of his parliament ; and, 
 at one of the sessions of 1275, it was taken into 
 consideration. It was then resolved, that Llewellyn 
 should be summoned a third time, and that the place 
 named should be Chester, that city being the nearest 
 point to his Snowdon home. 
 
 This mild and forbearing course is utterly at 
 variance with the view taken by many historians, 
 who represent Edward as eager for the conquest 
 of Wales. Whenever, in those days, a superior lord 
 
106 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 desired to possess himself of the fief held by one of 
 his vassals, the course to be taken was extremely 
 simple, and generally understood. About seventy 
 years before this period, Philip of France resolved 
 to seize upon Normandy. He summoned John, Ed- 
 ward's grandfather, before him, to answer certain 
 charges ; and on John's failure to appear, he passed 
 sentence, adjudging him to forfeit to his superior 
 lord all his seigniories and fiefs in France. From 
 that moment, Normandy was lost to England, and 
 united to France. In the same manner, in 1294, an- 
 other Philip summoned Edward before him, and on 
 his non-appearance, declared Gascony forfeited, and 
 took possession of that province. Had Edward been 
 possessed with that eager ambition which some writers 
 impute to him, he would never have hesitated to take 
 a similar course ; and, had he taken that course, 
 Wales would have been conquered and annexed in 
 1276. 
 
 But, although we can have no doubt that so 
 sagacious a prince as Edward saw from the begin- 
 ning, the desirableness, both for Wales and for 
 England, of the union of the two countries, still 
 his whole life proves him to have been singularly 
 careful not to violate the rights of others. Of this, 
 his after-history will furnish many instances. He 
 meant, no doubt, from the beginning, to terminate 
 that state of things which had existed for many 
 years past, and which Matthew Paris thus describes : — 
 "The Welsh carried fire and slaughter into the border 
 counties. They gave themselves up to slaughter, 
 incendiarism, and pillage, till they had reduced the 
 whole border to an uninhabitable desert." Edward 
 purposed, doubtless, to put an end to all these hor- 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 107 
 
 rors ; but the course lie proposed to follow was a 
 legitimate and pacific one. He desired first to ob- 
 tain Llewellyn's oath of homage and fealty ; and 
 then he would have prescribed to him the rule which, 
 as a motto, was afterwards inscribed on his own 
 tomb. Pactum serva, — " keep your covenant/ ' — would 
 have decided the whole question. He was willing to 
 have the Welsh chief for a loyal vassal and pacific 
 neighbour ; but this was a position which Llewellyn 
 evidently disliked to take. Yet, to give up his claim 
 to homage, and to leave Llewellyn in the position of 
 an independent sovereign, would be to surrender one 
 of the rights of the English crown ; while, to admit 
 his right to perpetuate these border-hostilities, would 
 be to sacrifice the interests of the English people. 
 
 Still, always loath even to appear to violate any 
 right possessed by another, Edward sent this third 
 summons to the Welsh prince, calling upon him to 
 appear at Chester in August 1275 ; and, to obviate 
 his allcQ-ed difificultv, the kins; sent him a safe-con- 
 duct for his coming, abiding, and return, — a most 
 unusual condescension, and one which places in a 
 strong light Edward's desire to bring the matter to a 
 peaceful conclusion. The Welsh prince, however, 
 rejected the ofi'er ; refusing to quit his home unless 
 he had sent to him, as hostages, the king's son, the 
 chancellor, and the earl of Gloucester, — a demand 
 which one historian justly describes as " insolent." 
 And so ended the negotiations with Wales, for the 
 year 1275. 
 
 It was in the month of February in this year, 
 that an event had occurred to which we have already 
 alluded. A British ship, cruizing in the channel, 
 happened to fall in with a French vessel, which was 
 
108 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 conveying to Llewellyn his expected bride, Eleanor 
 de Montfort, under the care of her brother Almeric, 
 These two young people were brought to England, 
 and presented to the king. As the question be- 
 tween Edward and Llewellyn was still under discus- 
 sion, — the Welsh prince refusing to pay that homage 
 which was Edward's due, — the king desired his 
 young cousin to be taken to Windsor, and directed 
 that she should remain in the queen's own charge, 
 until the question between him and Llewellyn was 
 decided. 
 
 In the month of October of this year, 1275, 
 another parliament was held at Westminster, in 
 which an aid of a fifteenth was granted to the king, 
 to clear off all remaining liabilities arising out of his 
 visit to the Holy Land. Some orders were also made 
 with reference to the Jews ; and notice was taken of 
 Llewellyn's continued absence, — he having received 
 a fourth summons to appear in this parliament. In 
 the next year, 1276, a council or parliament was 
 held at Westminster, and another at Winchester, to 
 each of which the Welsh prince was duly summoned. 
 He had now been called, in due form, no fewer than 
 six times ; but to none of these summonses had he 
 paid the least attention. Sentence of contumacy 
 would consequently have been passed, had not the 
 archbishop and some of the bishops prayed for a still 
 further delay, in order that thoy might try the effect 
 of a pacific mission of their own. Their desire 
 was granted ; and they accordingly sent the arch- 
 deacon of Canterbury into Wales, to confer with 
 Llewellyn personally, and to bring him, if possible, 
 to adopt a more reasonable course. The archdeacon 
 returned, and made his report to another parliament. 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 109 
 
 which met on the 13th of October, at TVestminster. 
 To that parliament Llewellyn sent letters, demanding 
 to have the lady Eleanor sent to him with all her 
 attendants, and proposing to come to Montgomery 
 or Oswestry to do his homage, provided a safe-con- 
 duct were sent to him, guaranteed by the archbishop 
 and the archdeacon, by the bishop of Winchester, and 
 by the earls of Warrenne, Gloucester, liincoln, and 
 Norfolk. He thus implied, evidently, that the king's 
 pledge of safe-conduct was not sufficient ! 
 
 This insolent communication naturally excited an 
 universal feeling of anger. The parliament at once 
 declared Llewellyn contumacious. The sentence was 
 read and passed at a full parliament, on the 12 th of 
 November, 1276 ; and it was also ordered, that the 
 military tenants of the crown should be summoned 
 to attend at Worcester by Midsummer following, or 
 sooner if the king thought fit, to proceed forthwith 
 into Wales. 
 
 In the same parliament two statutes, one " Of 
 Coroners," and the other " Of Bigamy," appear to 
 have been passed. 
 
 More than two years had now been spent in these 
 repeated attempts to bring the Welsh prince to adopt 
 a rational and pacific course ; and any further delay 
 would have savored of irresolution or weakness. 
 Yet the king allowed the archbishop to make one 
 more effort at mediation. He wrote to Llewellyn a 
 persuasive letter ; but this attempt had no better 
 result than the preceding one. As the time for 
 action drew near, another parliament was summoned, 
 in which an aid of a twelfth was granted to the king 
 for the expenses of the war. In the spring, the 
 royal forces began to assemble, and Roger Morti- 
 
110 THE FIKST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 mer was appointed to their command. The chief 
 men of South Wales speedily sent in their submis- 
 sion ; and were " received to the king's grace." 
 David and Roderick, the brothers of Llewellyn, 
 joined the king, and were honorably received by 
 him. Llewellyn deemed the recesses of Snowdon to 
 be inaccessible ; and hence argued that he could 
 never be overcome. But Edward was, both by na- 
 tural talents and by experience, becoming a general 
 of the highest order. He had prepared, in the 
 spring, a naval force in the Cinque ports ; which, 
 when the proper season had arrived, sailed round to 
 Anglesea, landed some troops there, and thus re- 
 duced the island. Llewellyn now found himself shut 
 in on every side ; and that same distress for provi- 
 sions which he hoped might scatter the English forces, 
 began to impend over himself. 
 
 As the autumn passed over, and the winter began 
 to approach, the courage of the Welsh prince gave 
 way ; and he asked for peace. Had Edward's views 
 been those which are often attributed to him, he 
 might now have easily and fully accomplished them. 
 He had all England at his back, to furnish him with 
 men and supplies ; while the Welsh prince, cooped 
 up in his barren mountains, must, in a few weeks, 
 have surrendered at discretion ; and thus Wales 
 would have been Edward's own. But he shewed his 
 moderation and clemency, by granting peace to 
 Llewellyn the moment he asked for it. On the 9th 
 of November a treaty was framed ; and it was ratified 
 the next day by the king himself. In this treaty 
 Llewellyn consented to cede certain " cantreds " 
 lying between Chester and Conway ; to pay the king 
 a tribute of 1,000 marks per annum for the island of 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. lU 
 
 Anglesea; to pay £50,000 for the expenses of the 
 war ; and to give ten hostages for the fulfilment of 
 these eno-ao-eraents. 
 
 These terms were in all respects fair and equitable. 
 Llewellyn, by the established laws of nations, at that 
 time existing, had forfeited his principality. Its 
 forfeiture had been legitimately declared, and the 
 king had shewn that he had the power to carry that 
 sentence into execution. Hence, to restore him to 
 his former seat, upon merely ceding some disputed 
 territory, and engaging to pay the expenses of the 
 war, was liberal treatment. But Edward lost no time 
 in proving that he desired to be more than liberal or 
 just. The very next day, he remitted the fine of 
 £50,000. Soon after, he gave up, also, the stipulated 
 tribute for Anglesea ; and restored the hostages. 
 Hume, with his usual injustice towards Edward, 
 suggests that the fine was probably remitted, because 
 ^' the poverty of the country made it impossible that 
 it should be levied." But is it not obvious, that a 
 designing and ungenerous conqueror would have been 
 pleased with the opportunity of retaining Llewellyn 
 as his debtor ; and would soon have exacted territory 
 in lieu of money, if the latter could not be produced ? 
 
 It is abundantly clear that Edward's real purpose 
 was, if possible, to make Llewellyn his loyal vassal 
 and friend. He had, first, exhibited towards him, 
 for more than two years, the greatest patience and 
 forbearance. Then, when it was no longer possible 
 to abstain from acting hostilely, he so manoeuvred 
 as to force the Welsh prince to surrender. Having 
 brought him to this point, all afterwards was kind- 
 ness and generosity. He almost instantly remitted 
 all the burdens laid on Llewellyn by the treaty. He 
 
112 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 then invited him to visit him at Westminster, where, 
 accordingly, the Welsh prince spent Christmas. He 
 did not " send him Eleanor de Montfort," as Llewellyn 
 had demanded ; but he prepared a princely wedding, 
 at his own expense, in Worcester Cathedral ; where, 
 the following summer, the Welsh prince received his 
 bride, in the presence of the king and queen, and 
 of many of the nobles of England. But there was 
 a still greater benefit which it was in Edward's power 
 to confer on Llewellyn, and to this he gave his imme- 
 diate attention. 
 
 David, the brother of Llewellyn, had always been 
 at variance with him. On one occasion the two 
 brothers met on the battle-field, and David was taken 
 prisoner. In the late contest he had taken part with 
 the English. A designing and ungenerous conqueror 
 would have required Llewellyn to receive him back, 
 and would have taken advantage of the feud existing 
 between them. But Edward was at all times gene- 
 rous, and he seems to have resolved to win both 
 these chiefs by benefits and favors. He took David 
 with him to England, created him an earl, gave him 
 £1,000 a-year in land, (equal to £15,000 a-year in the 
 present day,) and married him to an earl's daughter. 
 Llewellyn was thus relieved from the rivalry and 
 hostility of his brother ; while upon David himself 
 the most substantial benefits were conferred. Thus, 
 " Edward flattered himself," says Lingard, " that 
 what he had begun by force, he had completed by 
 kindness. To Llewellyn he had behaved rather with 
 the affection of a friend, than the severity of an 
 enemy; and his letters to that prince breathe a spirit 
 of moderation which does honor to his heart. To 
 David he had been a bounteous protector. He had 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 113 
 
 granted him the honor of knighthood, extensive es- 
 tates in both countries, and the hand of the daughter 
 of the earl of Derby." Yery reasonably, therefore, 
 might the king hope and believe, that he had brought 
 this Welsh quarrel to a peaceful and happy con- 
 clusion. The following Christmas saw Llewellyn and 
 his bride spending that festive season with the king 
 and queen, in the royal palace of Westminster. 
 
 Before, however, we quit this year, 1278, we must 
 notice a few other circumstances which occurred in 
 the course of it. 
 
 Towards the end of the preceding reign, a riot 
 had occurred in the city of Norwich, arising out of a 
 quarrel between the monks and the people of the city. 
 Being the stronger party, the people had sacked the 
 monastery and burnt the cathedral. King Henry 
 was enraged at this outbreak, and laid a heavy fine 
 upon the city, which fine had been employed during 
 several years past in the restoration of these buildings. 
 After a lapse of six or seven years, the new cathedral 
 was now ready for consecration ; and on Advent 
 Sunday the king and queen attended that ceremony, 
 accompanied by many earls and barons, as well as 
 by the bishops of Norwich, London, Hereford, and 
 Waterford. 
 
 Returning to the metropolis, we next find the 
 king paying a visit to Glastonbury ; and there can 
 be no doubt that he took the opportunity, at the same 
 time, of visiting his mother, the queen Eleanor of 
 the last reign, who had entered the convent of Am- 
 bresbury. The king and queen were present on 
 Easter Sunday at the services in the renowned abbey 
 of Glastonbury ; where they remained several days. 
 So great were the privileges of this place, that even 
 
 I 
 
114 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 the king himself was laid under some restraint while 
 abiding in it. His deputy high-marshal was not 
 allowed to exercise his office ; the king's judges were 
 held to have no authority ; and even a man who had 
 incurred the penalties of Icssa majestas was not allowed 
 to be punished. 
 
 The king's chief object, in visiting this venerated 
 place, was to behold the alleged tombs and remains 
 of king Ai'thur and his queen. On the Wednesday of 
 Easter-week, there was a solemn opening of these 
 tombs ; and remains, said to be those of the renowned 
 British king, were exhibited to Edward and his con- 
 sort. The king then deposited in the tomb, which 
 was immediately re-closed, a written record of his 
 visit and inspection, 
 
 In the summer, going into the west to celebrate 
 the marriage of Llewellyn and Eleanor at Worcester, 
 the king held, at the neighbouring city of Gloucester, 
 a parliament, at which the important "Statutes of 
 Gloucester " were passed. And in their preamble 
 we again notice the recognition of the all-important 
 principle, that the functions of legislation belong 
 to all orders in the state. That preamble runs 
 thus : — 
 
 " The king himself, providing for the amendment 
 of his realm, and for a fuller administration of justice, 
 as the good of the kingly office requireth, having 
 called unto him the more discreet persons of his 
 realm, as well of the greater as of the less, — It is 
 established and ordained," «&:c. 
 
 Eeturning to town, the king directed his attention 
 to two other very important matters. The first con- 
 cerned the state of the coinage, which had been for 
 some time past exceedingly depreciated. As this 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 115 
 
 was chiefly attributed to the practice of "clipping," 
 it was obviously necessary, before issuing any new 
 money, to strike a blow at this nefarious practice ; 
 and the measures adopted by the king were marked 
 with his usual energy. Two classes of men were 
 chiefly implicated, — the Jews, who were everywhere 
 the principal money-lenders, and the goldsmiths, who, 
 by their profession, were largely concerned in the 
 purchase and sale of the precious metals. On one 
 evening, towards the close of this year, all the Jew 
 money-changers were apprehended, and their houses 
 searched. On a second, all the goldsmiths were simi- 
 larly visited. Tools for money-clipping, and large 
 quantities of clipped coin, were discovered. A special 
 commission was issued for the trial of these cases ; 
 and it is clear that there was no precipitation in the 
 proceedings ; for the sittings, commencing after the 
 Christmas holidays, continued until Lent 1279, and 
 were resumed after Easter. Between two and three 
 hundred were capitally convicted and punished ; most 
 of whom were Jews. So soon as this severe check 
 had been given to this class of offenders, measures 
 were taken for the issue of a new coinage. Exchanges 
 were opened in various places, at which the old coin 
 was taken in at its value, and new money issued. 
 " Edward," says Eapin, " is supposed to be the 
 first king that perfectly fixed the standard of our 
 coin." 
 
 About this period, too, another important scrutiny 
 was begun, but one which involved difficulties of so 
 peculiar a kind, that even the power and energy of 
 this great king proved insufficient to accomplish his 
 purpose. " During the troubles of the last two 
 reigns," says Eapin, "divers persons had appropriated 
 
 i3 
 
116 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 to themselves lands to which they had no just right. 
 To remedy this evil, and to give to every one his 
 own," "it was ordered, that all who were in posses- 
 sion of contested estates, should produce their titles 
 before the judges, in order that their validity might 
 be examined." 
 
 The substantial justice of this enquiry could not 
 be questioned ; but to carry such an investigation 
 through the land, would probably have raised a com- 
 motion resembling a civil war. One of the greatest 
 lords in the realm, earl Warrenne*, who had fought by 
 the king's side at Lewes, and who had entertained 
 him at Reigate Castle on his landing in 1274, when 
 called upon to produce his title-deeds to the judges, 
 drew an ancient sword, exclaiming, " It was by this 
 that my progenitors won these lands ; and it is by this 
 that I mean to maintain my right." 
 
 The earl was a vehement, impulsive man, as he 
 had shewn by his attack on Alan de la Zouch, in West- 
 minster Hall, in the last reign ; but he was ever a 
 firm friend to the reigning family, and if he resented 
 this demand, it could be no matter of doubt that 
 the Bohuns and Bigods would be still more contu- 
 macious. Edward has received from all sides the 
 praise of wisdom and sagacity ; and he shewed his 
 possession of these qualities, more than once or twice, 
 by frankly relinquishing rights which it would have 
 been unwise, though not unjust, to press. The 
 
 * The proper style and title of this nobleman was, " John de 
 Warrenne, earl of Surry;" and Sir Walter Scott speaks of him as 
 " Surry," just as earl Simon is styled " Leicester." But his. 
 common designation in the chronicles of the time, and even in 
 state-papers, is, " earl Wai'renne," or " earl de Warrenne ; " and 
 we adopt their practice. 
 
THE FIKST ENGLISH KING. 117 
 
 opposition of the earl decided this question : and the 
 scrutiny, however desirable and proper it might have 
 been, was abandoned. 
 
 The late visit to king Arthur's tomb had shewn 
 the tendency of the king's thoughts and feelings ; and 
 it can be no matter of surprise that his friends and 
 followers shared in those feelings. Hence we trace 
 without difficulty the origin of a festal celebration, 
 on the part of Roger Mortimer, so long the king's 
 personal friend, and who now, doubtless by Edward's 
 favor, dwelt in the noble castle of Keuilworth. In that 
 most appropriate spot, and honored by the presence 
 of Edward and his queen, ^lortimer held a round- 
 table, at which there assembled a hundred knights 
 and their ladies, " all clad in silk." Tournaments in 
 the morning, and round-table festivities for the rest 
 of the day, filled up the time from the 21st to the 30th 
 of September. The giver of the feast was greeted, 
 before its close, by the title of earl of March. 
 
 And now the seventh year of Edward's reign drew 
 to a close, — or, reckoning from his coronation, the 
 fifth. And surely he had done much in that short 
 period. He had ended, he hoped, the troubles arising 
 from Wales ; and bound both the Welsh princes to him 
 by the most substantial obligations. He had ascer- 
 tained and regulated the revenues and expenditure of 
 the crown. He had ''fixed the standard" of the 
 nation's money ; and had put a stop to the nefarious 
 practices of those who lived by debasing it. He had 
 given the people the vast advantage of several 
 admirable laws; but, which was most of all, and 
 above all, he had commenced the reign of law, as 
 distinguished from the dominion of absolute power. 
 Foremost of all the men of his time in true discern- 
 
118 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 ment and in honesty and nobleness of purpose, he 
 had frankly stated, more than once or twice, that he 
 regarded it as the first duty of a king to furnish the 
 people with just and equitable laws, and to provide 
 for their proper execution. But never once did he 
 assume, that the making of such laws rested on his 
 sole pleasure ; or that even the king and the nobles 
 of the land, when united, formed a complete legisla- 
 tive assembly. From the very opening of his reign, 
 he enunciated the principle, which to its close he 
 kept invariably in view, — that a proper legislature is 
 one which contains within it, as far as may be prac- 
 ticable, the nation, — the various classes of the people, 
 in all their ranks and gradations. It is for his wisdom 
 in discerning this, and his noble fearlessness in pro- 
 claiming it, that Edward deserves the first place 
 among our English kings. 
 
CHAPTER THE FIFTH, 
 n. 
 
 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 II.— STATUTE OF MOETMAIN— INSUREECTION IN WALES- 
 WALES SUBDUED— STATUTES OF WALES. 
 
 A.D. 1279—1284. 
 
 The Welsh controversy had thus, apparently, 
 been brought to a close. Llewellyn had been subdued ; 
 had been generously treated ; and could now have no 
 excuse for any further turbulence. David, always 
 quarrelsome and disorderly, had been laid under no 
 ordinary obligations. From a mere mountain-chief, 
 at war with his elder brother, discontented and poor, 
 he had been raised to the position of an opulent 
 English nobleman. That he should forget all these 
 benefits, and indulge his irascible and restless pro- 
 pensities to his own grievous loss and ruin, would 
 seem to be a folly which no one could anticipate. 
 The king's plans for the entire termination of these 
 disputes had been framed with equal wisdom and 
 liberality ; and their failure, through the irreclaim- 
 able fractiousness of the Welsh chiefs, was a thing 
 quite beyond any human calculation. Yet there is 
 some reason to believe, that, filled with national 
 pride and vanity, and regarding themselves as the 
 rightful owners of the whole realm of England, all 
 the Welsh chiefs looked forward to a day when the 
 Saxon and Norman intruders should be entirely 
 
120 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 expelled or subdued ; and the ancient Britons should 
 again bear rule over the land. One circumstance 
 had recently attracted their attention, and raised 
 their hopes. Traditional prophecies had been handed 
 down, that when the English money should become 
 round, a Welsh prince should reign in London ; and 
 Edward's recent coinage was regarded with interest, 
 as indicating the arrival of the predicted period. 
 Still, for more than four years, there seemed to be 
 entire peace between Wales and England ; and the 
 king was enabled to direct his attention to other 
 matters of some moment. 
 
 It was in the year 1279, that at a parliament 
 held in Westminster, the king passed the greatly- 
 needed Statute of Mortmain. All lawyers concur in 
 assigning a high place to this important measure. 
 We notice it, chiejfly, as exhibiting the breadth and 
 sagacity of Edward's character, and the honesty and 
 wisdom of his chief advisers. 
 
 Edward himself was one of the most religious 
 kings that ever sat upon the throne of England ; and 
 his chief counsellor was Robert Burnel, bishop of 
 Bath and Wells. The king shewed his own sincere 
 piety, throughout his reign, by many special and 
 voluntary acts of worship and religious retirement. 
 Superstition mingled with all the religion of that 
 day, but Edward did not allow this superstition to 
 paralyze his understanding, or to blind his intellect, 
 when acting as a ruler and a framer of laws. He 
 saw, on every side, the enormous increase of the 
 church's wealth ; and the apparent probability that 
 it would, ere long, become the owner of most of the 
 land of England. This increase, during his father's 
 prolonged reign, had been prodigious. Visible and 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 121 
 
 striking facts proclaimed this on every side. Lon- 
 don was, at that time, a city of about one-twentieth 
 of the size of the present metropolis ; yet, in the 
 midst of this insignificant place, compared with the 
 London of modern times, arose a cathedral measur- 
 ing GOO feet in length, and 534 in its extremest height, 
 or, probably, about twice the size of Sir Christopher 
 Wren's cathedral. Meanwhile, in the neighbouring 
 village of Westminster, there was now uprearing 
 itself that splendid and spacious abbey-church which 
 we still possess. And these great works were merely 
 specimens of what the clergy were effecting in all 
 parts of the kingdom. 
 
 The king himself was a liberal donor, in his life- 
 time, to the church of Westminster and to various 
 other religious edifices ; but he saw that the chief 
 means by which the ecclesiastics of that day con- 
 trived to augment the landed property of their 
 churches and monasteries, was by practising on the 
 hopes and fears of wealthy men, in the hour of sick- 
 ness and approaching death. There was a plain moral 
 wrong in much of this monetary traffic in the sup- 
 posed destinies of the dying ; and, if not controlled, 
 it seemed likely to give the church possession, in the 
 course of another century or two, of most of the 
 landed estates of England. Hence, by one bold 
 and well-conceived measure, for which Edward's 
 chancellor, as well as Edward himself, deserves im- 
 mortal honor, a substantial check was given to this 
 whole system of death-bed gifts to the church, by 
 the great and important Laic of Mortmain. 
 
 Soon after this, Edward, finding all things at 
 peace at home, paid a short visit to the continent. 
 The death of the queen of Castile had transferred to 
 
122 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 her daughter Eleanor, Edward's consort, the county 
 of Ponthieu ; and to obtain seisin of this territory, 
 and to do homage for it, he visited the king of 
 France at Amiens, where he made but an ordinary 
 visit. From France he brought to England, on his 
 return, some fine jasper-stones, which became part 
 of the noble monument which he was now raising in 
 the church of Westminster to the memory of the 
 king his father. It was shortly after this, that he 
 found it necessary to repress some overweening pre- 
 tensions of the higher ecclesiastics. John Peckham, 
 who had succeeded Kilwardby in the see of Canter- 
 bury, had recently convened a synod at Reading, in 
 which various canons were passed, tending to sepa- 
 rate ecclesiastics and ecclesiastical property from 
 the rest of the kingdom, and to exempt them from 
 the operation of the statute and common law. On 
 hearing of these high pretensions, the king sum- 
 moned the archbishop before his council, and obliged 
 him to revoke and cancel all canons which pretended 
 to overrule or set aside the laws and ordinances of 
 the realm. 
 
 It was about this period that an application of a 
 peculiar kind was remitted to the king from Ireland. 
 A considerable number of persons there, attracted, 
 probably, by the news of the king's legislative im- 
 provements, sent over a petition to be allowed the 
 benefit of the English laws. They tendered also, in 
 conformity with the custom of the times, a fine of 
 8,000 marks, for the enjoyment of this privilege. 
 The king was quite disposed to comply with their 
 request ; and wrote to Robert de Ufford, chief justi- 
 ciary of Ireland, to that effect. But wherever arbitrary 
 power exists, there are always some persons in 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 123 
 
 authority who derive personal advantage from it, and 
 who therefore have an interest in its perpetuation. 
 Some sort of a parliament was held in Ireland to 
 consider the question ; and the barons or great men 
 in that parliament started objections, and succeeded in 
 postponing the matter. After much delay the king 
 again wrote, expressing his displeasure ; and ordering 
 another parliament to be summoned to decide upon 
 the question. This is one among a vast number of 
 instances, in which we see how entirely free from any 
 tendency to despotic rule was Edward's mind. Even 
 when the expediency and propriety of a measure was 
 obvious, and when he had a direct interest in carrvino; 
 it, he issues no arbitrary decree or edict ; but merely 
 orders, once and again, that his representative in 
 Ireland shall summon a parliament to consider the 
 matter. His caution, and his desire that every 
 measure should be considered in a parliament before 
 its adoption, had in this case an injurious effect. 
 The men in power in Ireland succeeded in again 
 postponing any decision, until the affairs of Wales 
 drew the king's attention another way. 
 
 The Welsh principality had now remained in a 
 state of apparent tranquillity for more than four 
 years. " Slow to all manner of strife," the king had 
 shewn the greatest unwillingness to proceed to ex- 
 tremities, and the moment Llewellyn asked for peace, 
 that peace had been granted to him. And so gene- 
 rously had the king acted to both the brothers, that 
 a new outbreak, which could only lead to their own 
 ruin, was as improbable an event as could have been 
 imagined. Yet such an event, unlikely as it might have 
 appeared, actually took place. The king was quietly 
 keeping Easter at Devizes, when the news was brought 
 
124 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 to him, that David, — that same David on whom he 
 had heaped so many favors, — had, before daybreak 
 on the Palm-Sunday of 1282, surprised the castle 
 of Hawarden, put the garrison to the sword, and 
 hurried the owner, the lord Roger de Clifford, wounded 
 and in chains, over the mountains, as a prisoner. It was 
 added, that the two brothers, David and Llewellyn, 
 now for the first time reconciled, had invested the 
 castles of Flint and Rhuddlan, and were overrunning 
 the Marches, destroying everything with fire and 
 sword. Edward at first found it difficult to give 
 credit to intelligence so strange and so unlocked for ; 
 but, on receiving abundant confirmation, his course 
 was perfectly clear. England had been insulted, 
 injured, and set at nought. Her honor must be vin- 
 dicated, and her power established. Despatching 
 into Wales, to the relief of the beleaguered castles, 
 such forces as he had at hand, the king summoned 
 his military tenants to meet him at Rhuddlan on 
 the 2nd of August, when he proposed to take the 
 field. 
 
 Still, however, though insulted and outraged, Ed- 
 ward did not reject the idea of peace. The archbishop 
 again tendered his services ; and the king permitted 
 him to go to Llewellyn in the hope of bringing him 
 to more reasonable counsels. This attempt proved a 
 fruitless one, but it occupied some weeks. The Welsh 
 prince handed in a list of grievances. They were 
 just such as might have been expected : The country 
 between Chester and Conway, formerly " debateable 
 ground," had been ceded to the English, who had 
 established their own laws, and their own courts, and 
 judges, and ofiicers : The Welsh found themselves, 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 125 
 
 in these parts, ruled over by men whose language 
 they could not understand. By the Welsh laws, too, 
 great crimes, such as murder or arson, were allowed 
 to be commuted for a fine of five pounds ; while the 
 English courts hanged up the offender. Nor would 
 it be reasonable to assume, that the English authori- 
 ties were at all times patient, and placable, and con- 
 descending. It is probable that some causes of 
 complaint really existed ; indeed, considering the 
 position of the two parties, this was nearly inevi- 
 table. But the existence of some wrongs of this 
 kind did not make Llewellyn's conduct either wise 
 or reasonable. He had already experienced the 
 king's kindness and generosity ; and he had no right 
 to assume that wrong-doing, clearly shewn to exist, 
 would have been maintained and justified. Twice 
 had he been Edward's invited guest in his palace of 
 Westminster ; and he could not doubt of obtaining a 
 patient hearing, whenever he chose to carry to the 
 king's own ear a statement of things requiring amend- 
 ment. Any course would have been more wise, and 
 more defensible, than that which was actually adopted, 
 of sudden and treacherous warfare. The archbishop 
 brought back Llewellyn's answer ; but he must have 
 known its insufficiency. Whenever actually engaged 
 in warfare with a subject or a vassal, it was Edward's 
 constant rule to listen to nothing but submission. 
 Had Llewellyn applied to him before having re- 
 course to arms, he would readily have done justice ; 
 but now, a blow having been actually struck, he 
 demanded in the first place, submission. That sub- 
 mission he would not purchase by any concession. 
 If Llewellyn would lay down his arms, he should 
 
126 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 have justice ; if not, it must be war, and then " God 
 defend the right." 
 
 The summer drew on, and Edward began to move. 
 His path was now quite clear. His vassal, once 
 before rebellious, and then pardoned and generously 
 treated, had now, with greater violence, broken out 
 into open rebellion, and dared his lord to the field. 
 With unhesitating decision, but without any precipi- 
 tation, the king collected his forces, and entered 
 Wales. The plan of the campaign differed in no- 
 thing from that of 1277. A naval force was de- 
 spatched for the reduction of Anglesea. So soon 
 as that island was in the possession of the English, 
 the king's operations were chiefly carried on on 
 the western side of Snowdon. A bridge of boats 
 was constructed, for the passage of the Menai strait ; 
 and while this work was in progress, the Welsh, by 
 one of those sudden attacks of which they were 
 always fond, surprised a detachment commanded by 
 Lucas de Thony, a Gascon knight, and drove it into 
 the Menai, killing and drowning a considerable num- 
 ber of men. Encouraged by this success, and pro- 
 bably dreading to be shut up in Snowdon, as in 
 1277, Llewellyn left his mountain-fastnesses, and 
 passed into Radnor, where he expected to meet a 
 party of friends. He there came into contact with 
 an English force, under the command of Edward 
 Mortimer and John Giffard; and, in an irregular 
 skirmish, he was killed by one Adam Frankton, an 
 English soldier, who knew not his person, and was 
 quite unconscious of his rank. But his body was 
 soon recognized by some of the leaders of the party, 
 and the head was cut off and sent to the king. Ac- 
 cording to the custom of the times, Edward desired 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 127 
 
 it to be forwarded to London, and set up over the 
 gate of the Tower*. 
 
 The death of Llewellyn so entirely discouraged 
 the Welsh, that no further opposition was offered ; 
 but the whole principality at once submitted, and 
 became, from that day forward, an integral part of 
 England. Its annexation was as natural S^nd just a 
 thing as many other annexations which have oc- 
 curred in our own time. We may go further, and say, 
 it was more natural and more just. We have annexed 
 in India, under the mild government of queen Vic- 
 toria, province after province, of far greater size and 
 population than the principality of Wales, merely 
 because their rulers would not conduct themselves 
 with justice and propriety as friendly and inde- 
 pendent states. But Wales had been for centuries 
 feudally subject to England. Edward asked nothing 
 of Llewellyn but that homage and loyalty to which 
 he had an unquestionable right. On Llewellyn's 
 first contumacy, Edward shewed the greatest for- 
 bearance ; and received his submission, and restored 
 him to his seat, the first moment his submission was 
 tendered. The actual rebellion and open warfare of 
 the Welsh prince against his feudal lord, could be 
 visited with nothing less than forfeiture. The chance- 
 medley death of Llewellyn ended the question in the 
 
 * Such a proceeding seems to us, in the nineteenth century, 
 barbarous, but it presented no such aspect even to our grandfathers 
 in the eighteenth. When the last rebellion was suppressed in 
 England, the government of that day, of which lords Hardwicke 
 and Chatham were members, decapitated men on Kenniugton- 
 common, and sent their heads to Carlisle to be placed over the 
 castle-gates. Pope and Addison, Samuel Johnson and William 
 Cowper, were accustomed to see human heads on Temple-bar, as 
 they passed up and down Fleet-street, 
 
128 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 shortest way ; but had he met with no such death, 
 the termiuation of the contest must have been the 
 same. The principality of Wales was forfeited to 
 the superior lord ; and Edward could feel no more 
 doubt than we do now, that in uniting the two 
 countries, he was consulting the best interests of 
 both. " This incorporation," says Mr. Sharon Turner, 
 "was an unquestionable blessing to Wales. That 
 country ceased immediatel}^ to be the theatre of homi- 
 cide and distress, and began to imitate the English 
 habits. The country was divided into counties, placed 
 under sheriffs, and admitted to a participation in the 
 more important of the English institutions." 
 
 The wretched beginner of this second Welsh 
 controversy, David of Snowdon, succeeded, for seve- 
 ral months, in hiding himself in the mountains, and 
 leading the life of an outlaw. His unyielding con- 
 tumacy completed his ruin. Had he frankly and 
 instantly submitted, and thrown himself on Edward's 
 mercy, all that we know of the king assures us 
 that at least his life would have been spared. But 
 he remained obdurate, until, after a concealment of 
 several months, he was at last given up by some 
 of his own countrymen. Then, when there was no 
 longer any merit in submission, and when nothing 
 but an appeal to Edward's mercy could save him, 
 he begged to be allowed to see the king. But Ed- 
 ward was justly and reasonably indignant at his 
 ingratitude, and refused to grant an interview. Still, 
 he would not hastily decide upon his fate. No one 
 who has any ac(piaintance with English history can 
 doubt, that in either of the following ten or twelve 
 reigns, such an offender as this David would have 
 been instantly taken before any convenient tribunal, 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 129 
 
 and would have passed to the scaffold or the gallows 
 in less than twenty-four hours. He was an English 
 subject, — he had been raised by Edward to the 
 position of an English earl, and he had requited this 
 kindness by a treacherous rebellion, and by acts 
 unquestionably amounting to high treason. Even in 
 our own day, princes and great men have suffered 
 death in India for precisely the same offence. 
 
 But Edward, while he could not intend to make 
 David an example of unheard-of clemency, would not 
 trust himself to decide finally on his case. It is a 
 remarkable feature of this king's character, that 
 although possessed of a most masculine under- 
 standing, and fitted above most men to act upon the 
 unfettered dictates of his own mind, Edward never 
 found himself in presence of any grave and serious 
 question, without instantly desiring to submit it to a 
 council, or parliament, or conference with others. 
 In the present case, as we have said, the guilt of the 
 criminal was clear, and admitted of no doubt ; and 
 his instant execution would have appeared the 
 natural termination of his career. But the question 
 of how much, and what kiyid of punishment would be 
 most fitting, was one which Edward shrank from 
 deciding. He desired also, to do nothing in haste ; 
 and he therefore resolved to leave the whole question 
 to a parliament ; and to summon that parliament to 
 meet at Shrewsbury in October 1283 — David having 
 been given up to him in the June preceding. 
 
 It also seemed desirable to submit to the same 
 parliament, a great commercial statute, which the 
 legal advisers of the crown were then occupied in 
 preparing. We have no means of knowing which of 
 these two questions suggested the novel step, which 
 
 E 
 
130 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 makes the parliament of Shrewsbury one of the 
 epochs of the English constitution ; but certain it is, 
 that this memorable assembly is the first of which 
 we have any record, to which, as a component part 
 in a regular English parliament, the representatives 
 of sundry English towns and cities were regularly 
 summoned. 
 
 We have already remarked, that from the very 
 beginning of this great king's reign, the presence and 
 concurrence of "the commonalty," in the task of 
 legislation, was always distinctly avowed, as a prin- 
 ciple; and was not so much conceded, as readily and 
 voluntarily asserted and declared by the sovereign. 
 Nor ought we to suppose, that in the earlier parlia- 
 ments of this reign, these words v/ere mere empty 
 phrases, meaning nothing. Doubtless, some members 
 of "the commonalty" were invited and admitted 
 to those assemblies ; though who they were is no- 
 where recorded. But now the king resolved to give 
 a definite shape and form to this part of the legisla- 
 ture ; and he accordingly commenced, of his own will 
 and pleasure, the horough-representat'ion of England. 
 To this parliament of Shrewsbury there were sum- 
 moned, for the first time, two citizens, " de sapien- 
 tioribus etaptioribus," from the city of London, and two 
 from each of twenty other cities and towns in various 
 parts of England. This enlargement of tlie popular 
 branch of the legislature was not dictated, as some 
 historians are fond of assuming, "by the multiplied 
 necessities of the crown;" for the king had no request 
 to prefer, for money, or men, or any other kind of 
 '' benevolence." Nor was it the freak or fancy of the 
 moment; for we find, in the after-history of this 
 reign, that this enlargement of the popular rights 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 131 
 
 was not, in subsequent years, retracted or forgotten ; 
 but that it was again and again repeated and extended ; 
 until, in the last year of Edward's reign, the city and 
 borough representatives had become the largest sec- 
 tion of the "common parliament." 
 
 At Shrewsbury, then, we find this first of English 
 kings collecting and calling into existence this first 
 complete English parliament. And we perceive, from 
 the language of the writs, how deeply the king felt the 
 gravity of the question, as to the fate of David ; and 
 how sincerely he desired that the parliament, and 
 not himself, should decide on the fate of the prisoner. 
 Those writs remind both the barons, and the knights, 
 and the citizens, that they had seen " how Llewellyn 
 and David his brother, spurning the obligations of 
 fidelity into which they had entered, had, more 
 treacherously than usual, suddenly set fire to villages, 
 slain some of the inhabitants, burnt others, and shut 
 up others in dungeons, savagely shedding innocent 
 blood." The king therefore desires those to whom 
 he writes, to come to Shrewsbury on the day indicated, 
 " there to determine what ought to be done with the 
 said David, whom," says the king, " we received when 
 an exile, nourished when an orphan, and enriched out 
 of our own lands ; placing him among the nobles of our 
 court." "We charge you, therefore," the king con- 
 cludes, " to meet us at Shrewsbury, on the day after 
 the feast of St. Michael ; to confer upon this, and 
 upon other matters." 
 
 Before this parliament, then, was David of Snow- 
 don arraigned. " He was tried," says the CJmmicle 
 of Dunstable, "by the whole baronage of England." 
 It is clear that Edward sincerely desired that others, 
 and not himself, should decide upon the fate of 
 
 k3 
 
132 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 this unhappy man. He appears to have retired to 
 his chancellor's residence at Acton Burnel, about ten 
 miles from Shrewsbury ; and to have taken no direct 
 share in the proceedings. The trial took place, and, 
 according to the custom of those days, the criminal 
 was regarded as one who had committed sundry 
 crimes, and who ought, therefore, to suffer sundry 
 punishments. According to a method which was not 
 uncommon at that period, these crimes and punish- 
 ments were thus set forth: — 1. As a traitor to the 
 king, he was to be drawn to the place of execution : 
 2. As the murderer of certain knights in the castle 
 of Hawarden, he was to be hanged : 3. As sacrile- 
 gious, in having committed these crimes on Palm 
 Sunday, he was to be disembowelled : and 4. As 
 having conspired the death of the king in various 
 places, he was to be quartered. This sentence was 
 carried into execution ; and loud are the exclamations 
 of modern historians at its barbarity. Some mistakenly 
 represent Edward as having, on this occasion, in- 
 vented the punishment for high treason, which has 
 continued in England almost until the present day. 
 A more moderate censor condemns Edward for "per- 
 mitting his nobles and lawyers to devise and to carry 
 into execution such a barbarous sentence." 
 
 Much of this censure arises from ignorance. 
 Such a sentence as was passed at Shrewsbury was 
 not a novel or unheard-of thing : punishments like 
 that inflicted on David had been inflicted before 
 Edward was born*. Neither was this Edward's 
 
 * Thus, in 1238, a man was found lurking in the pahice, who 
 confessed that his object was to kill the king. He was sentenced, 
 first, to be dragged asunder by horses ; then to be beheaded ; and 
 to be divided into three parts, to be exhibited in three cities. 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING, 133 
 
 punishment for high treason. We shall meet with a 
 case of high treason a few years after this ; and shall 
 then observe, that the punishment inflicted for that 
 offence in Edward's reign was far lighter than in the 
 days of Elizabeth, or of either of the Georges. 
 
 But still there remains the fact of the cruelties 
 inflicted on David's body, — a fact which revolts our 
 feelings in modern times. The true justification, or 
 palliation, of these cruelties, is found in the vast 
 difference which existed between the habits, and 
 customs, and tone of feeling of those days, and those 
 of our own time. The days of chivalry were iron 
 days. When a prince like Edward would go to a far 
 distant and hostile country, on a perilous crusade, his 
 gentle Eleanor must needs accompany him. When 
 he would fight a battle, as at Falkirk, he sleeps all 
 the previous night, with his shield for his pillow, on a 
 Scottish moor. The very sports of those days were 
 terrible. " Sir Patrick Graham, a Scottish knight, 
 having arrived from Paris, was invited to supper ; and 
 in the midst of the feast, an English knight, turning 
 to him, courteously asked him to run with him three 
 courses. Next morning, in the first course, Graham 
 struck the English knight through the harness with 
 a mortal wound, so that he died on the spot. Such 
 were the fierce pastimes of those days^." And, 
 naturally enough, men did not think of the mutilation 
 of a human body, in or after death, with those feelings 
 of horror with which we regard it. Robert Bruce, 
 when dying, ordered his heart to be taken out of his 
 body, and carried to the Holy Land. If ever a 
 husband loved a wife, surely Edward loved his 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 431. 
 
134 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 Eleanor. Yet his directions after her death, were, 
 to place her bowels in Lincoln Minster, her heart in 
 the church of the Blackfriars, London, and the rest 
 of her body in Westminster Abbey. After the battle 
 of Evesham, as we have already seen, the bloody 
 head of earl Simon was deemed a fitting present to 
 be sent to the home of a noble lady. How can we, 
 then, apply to the deeds of those times the feelings 
 or prejudices which are current in the nineteenth 
 century ? Is it not evident and unquestionable, that 
 the sentence passed upon David of Snowdon must 
 have appeared to Edward himself, and to all the men 
 of his time, in a totally different light from that in 
 which we view it ? 
 
 So much as to the manner of David's death. 
 As to his capital punishment by some mode, we 
 apprehend that there is no room for discussion. The 
 after-history of England furnishes instances in great 
 numbers, of men of royal and noble blood, who died 
 on the scaffold for far lighter offences ; and even in 
 our own day, cases of a similar description, in India, 
 have not been wanting. Hume, indeed, tries to ex- 
 aggerate the case of David, by stating that " he 
 succeeded Llewellyn," and thus was "a sovereign 
 prince." But these statements are erroneous in 
 various ways. Llewellyn did not die childless, and 
 in no sense could his refugee brother be said to suc- 
 ceed him. And at the time of Llewellyn's death, his 
 fief was justly forfeited, and the superior lord was 
 entering into possession. As for David, he was 
 simply an English lord, — an English subject, who 
 had committed high treason of the plainest and most 
 flagrant kind ; the moral guilt of which was largely 
 enhanced by the fact, that the prince whom he thus 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. I35 
 
 suddenly and treacherously attacked had been his 
 most liberal and generous benefactor. 
 
 Edward, as we have seen, did not himself sit in 
 judgment on David, but devolved that painful duty 
 on his parliament. And we may be assured that this 
 was no pretence. The king was a fearless and 
 straightforward man, and when he called both lords 
 and commoners to come from all parts of the kingdom 
 to Shrewsbury, in order " to determine what ought to 
 be done with said David," he meant exactly what he 
 said. The sentence was that of the parliament ; the 
 king's part was merely the assenting to it. 
 
 But this was not quite the end of this transac- 
 tion. Edward was a thoughtful aiid a merciful king ; 
 and when Llewellyn and David were both gone, he 
 did not lose sight of the fact, that they both had left 
 children. A letter is extant, dated November 11th, 
 1283, and written by the king to the prior and 
 prioress of Alvingham, in the following terms : — 
 
 "Albeit, if we should turn our mind to past events, 
 and should regard somewhat closely the deserts of 
 certain persons, we should scarcely be bound to 
 succour the children of Llewellyn prince of Wales, 
 or of David his brother, whose perfidy is fresh in the 
 memory of all ; nevertheless, having the fear of God 
 before our eyes, and compassionating their sex and 
 age, — lest perchance the innocent and unconscious 
 should seem to pay the penalties of the crimes of the 
 impious, — we, from regard to charity, have thought 
 fit in wholesome sort to make provision for them. 
 Wherefore, being persuaded of your devotion, and 
 specially considering the conversation of your order, 
 we beseech you, brethren, that you admit to your order, 
 and the habit of your house, any one or more of the 
 
136 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 said children of Llewellyn and David his brother, 
 whom we shall name to you; and that you intimate to 
 us what you shall think fit to do in this matter, be- 
 fore the feast of the Nativity next ensuing. Given 
 under our private seal at Ludlow, on the 11th day 
 of November." 
 
 Of the result of this application to the priory of 
 Alvingham, we find no record. But in the tenth 
 of Edward II., we find Wenciliana, a daughter of 
 Llewellyn, spoken of as a nun of Sempringham^ ; 
 and in the first year of his reign, Edward granted her 
 a pension of £20 a-year (equal to £300 in the present 
 day). Peter Langtoft speaks of her as personally 
 known to him, and he mentions her death in June 
 1337. He also mentions "her cousin Gladous, 
 daughter of David," who was a nun at Sixille house, 
 and who died in 1336. 
 
 We must return, however, to Shrewsbury, and to 
 Acton Burnel, the castle of chancellor Burnel ; for it 
 was not for David's trial only that this parliament was 
 summoned. An important civil matter, as well as a 
 criminal question, was to be discussed. And, perhaps, 
 to sever, even in thought and memory, the one from 
 the other, the parliament seems to have removed 
 from Shrewsbury to Acton Burnel. Here, another 
 of Edward's great and durable laws was to be placed 
 on the statute-book of England. 
 
 The trade of England had attracted the attention 
 of the king and his advisers ; and the want of a new 
 statute for its regulation had been seen. Such a 
 measure had been prepared ; and, like the other 
 statutes of this reign, it merited the eulogium of Sir 
 
 * Rymer's Fcedera, vol. ii., p. 313. 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 137 
 
 Edward Coke, as being one of those laws which "may 
 justly be styled establishments." This statute, "</e 
 MercatoriJms,'' is described, even in the present day, 
 by lord Campbell, as "that famous law;" — "that 
 most admirable statute." Such was the legislative 
 fruit of that first legal parliament of England, to 
 which the representatives of the cities and boroughs 
 had been duly summoned. 
 
 And now, another great work lay before the king. 
 "Wales was at last his own — justly and rightfully his 
 own ; and finally united to England. But the country 
 was in a state of great wildness and disorder ; and 
 the king knew well, that the first step in the regene- 
 ration of a country (so far as a government can regene- 
 rate it) is the establishment of wise and just laws. 
 To this work, therefore, Edward immediately addressed 
 himself. " He was at great pains to gain a perfect 
 knowledge of its ancient constitutions and laws ; and 
 of the manners of its inhabitants. With this view, he 
 issued a commission to the bishop of St. David's and 
 some others, to investigate these matters in the most 
 careful manner. No fewer than one hundred and 
 seventy-two intelligent persons were examined upon 
 oath by these commissioners ; who, upon this evi- 
 dence, framed a report. Having thus obtained the 
 necessary information, the king held a parliament at 
 Rhuddlan in Flintshire, where he introduced as many 
 of the English laws and customs as he felt to be 
 convenient at that time." 
 
 The preamble to these ^^ Statutes of Wales" is ex- 
 pressed with all Edward's sincerely-religious feelings, 
 and noble frankness. It runs thus : — 
 
 " The Divine Providence having now, of its favor, 
 wholly transferred to our dominion the land of Wales? 
 
138 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 with its inhabitants, heretofore subject to us in feudal 
 right, — all obstacles ceasing ; and having annexed 
 and united the same unto the crown of the aforesaid 
 realm, as a member of the same body ; — we therefore, 
 under the Divine Will, being desirous that our afore- 
 said land should be governed with due order, to the 
 honor and praise of God, and of holy church, and the 
 advancement of justice ; and that the people of those 
 lands who have submitted themselves to our will 
 should be protected in security, under fixed laws and 
 customs, have caused to be rehearsed before us 
 and the nobles of our realm, the laws and customs in 
 those parts hitherto in use : which, having fully un- 
 derstood, we have, by the advice of the said nobles, 
 abolished some of them, some we have allowed, and 
 some we have corrected ; and we have commanded 
 and ordained certain others to be added thereto." 
 
 So were framed and published the Statutes of 
 Wales. At the same time, also, — for the king made 
 a long stay in his new dominions, — there began to 
 uprear itself, the noble castle of Carnarvon. The 
 whole work occupied, there can be little doubt, 
 several years ; but a portion of it was rapidly com- 
 pleted, and fitted for the purposes of a royal residence. 
 In 1283, queen Eleanor kept her court in Rhuddlan 
 Castle ; but towards the beginning of 1284, a portion 
 of the new castle being completed, she removed to 
 this most royal abode ; and here, on the 25th of 
 April in that year, in a chamber of the Eagle tower 
 which is still shewn, she gave birth to Edward, prince 
 of Wales, afterwards Edward II. The king, at that 
 moment, was at Rhuddlan Castle, engaged in afiTairs 
 of state. A Welsh gentleman of the name of Griffith 
 Lloyd was announced ; who brought him the intelli- 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 139 
 
 gence of the birth of a prince. The king, in great 
 joy, knighted the messenger on the spot, and made 
 him a noble donation of lands. He soon hastened to 
 Carnarvon, to see his Eleanor and her son; and when 
 a few days had elapsed, he was able to present to the 
 Welsh chiefs '^a prince of Wales, who could not 
 speak a single word of English*." 
 
 For more than two years had the affairs of Wales 
 occui^ied most of the king's time and attention ; but 
 the principality seemed now at peace, and about to 
 commence a course of rapid improvement. Edward 
 concluded his labors in the principality with a grand 
 festivity. At Newyn, in Carnarvonshire, in the summer 
 of 1284, he held, after the manner of king Ai'thur, 
 a round table, a grand tournament, with other fes- 
 tivities. Here assembled, savs Matthew of West- 
 minster, " the great body of the knights of England, 
 with many foreign nobles." So splendid a spectacle 
 was well calculated to satisfy the gentry of Wales, 
 that if their boasted " independence " was lost, 
 they had at least gained in exchange, union with a 
 powerful kingdom, and the rule of a great sovereign. 
 When this festivity was concluded, the king pro- 
 ceeded through Cardigan and Glamorganshire, reach- 
 ing Bristol by the end of the year, where he celebrated 
 Christmas. 
 
 * See Appendix E. 
 
CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 III.— VISIT TO THE CONTINENT— TRIAL OF THE JUDGES- 
 DEATH OF THE QUEEN. 
 
 A.D. 1284—1290. 
 
 " The conquest of Wales," says Rapin, " and the 
 universal esteem in which the king was held among 
 his subjects, produced in England a profound tran- 
 quillity." And hence, as some questions of import- 
 ance called Edward abroad, he began about this time 
 to prepare for a visit of some length to various parts 
 of the continent. 
 
 A singular application had been made to him, 
 while engaged in the afi'airs of Wales. Two princes, 
 — Peter of Arragon and Charles of Anjou, — had 
 each advanced a claim to the crown of Sicily. An 
 appeal to arms appeared inevitable ; when it was 
 suggested by Charles, and agreed to by Peter, that 
 they should decide the question by single combat! 
 Arrangements were seriously made : twelve commis- 
 sioners were appointed on each side; and these 
 twenty-four drew up articles, which were afterwards 
 ratified by both the princes. It was agreed that the 
 combat should take place at Bourdeaux, whither the 
 combatants were to repair on a certain day ap- 
 pointed, — each to be accompanied by one hundred 
 knights. But, as all parties agreed in regarding 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 141 
 
 Edward as at the head of the chivalry of Europe, it 
 was made an essential point in the agreement, that 
 he should act as the umpire, and that the combat 
 should take place in his presence. 
 
 The two princes had evidently reckoned on the 
 martial character of the English king, as a man 
 known to be "mighty in arms," and who had taken 
 part in most of the great tournaments of his time. 
 But they had overlooked, or not understood, that 
 this was only the inferior part of his character ; 
 and his nobler aspect was, his wisdom, his states- 
 manlike sagacity, and, what a modern historian calls, 
 "his legislative mind." The proposal, when made to 
 Edward, only struck him as being eminently absurd. 
 He was fond of martial sports and deeds of chivalry; 
 but he had never dreamed that the affairs of the 
 world could be carried on by tournaments. Ques- 
 tions concerning kingly rights, and disputed succes- 
 sions, were handled by him in courts and parliaments, 
 on the ground of truth, and justice, and established 
 fact ; and often, as in the cases of Wales and Scot- 
 land, with a deliberateness which disregarded the 
 lapse of months and years. To leave such matters 
 to be decided by, perchance, the possession of the 
 strongest horse or the toughest spear, was not to be 
 for a moment thought of. His instant reply was, 
 " That if he were to gain by it both the kingdoms 
 of Arragon and Sicily, he would not appoint the 
 field of battle, or suffer the two princes to fight in 
 any place within his dominions, nor in any other 
 place, if it were in his power to hinder it." But he 
 accompanied his refusal with offers of friendly media- 
 tion, which were afterwards carried into effect. 
 
 This frank and decided negative frustrated the 
 
142 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 whole plan ; and Edward was soon requested to under- 
 take a mor€ pacific arrangement. In fact, through- 
 out this whole affair, this sovereign of the mediaeval 
 times seems to have acted much as any modern king 
 of sense and proper feeling would now act. To 
 understand distinctly how great a superiority this 
 implied over the prejudices and habits of thought of 
 his own time, we should recal to mind the fact, that 
 more than two centuries after Edward's day, two 
 such monarchs as Charles Y. and Francis I. actually 
 contemplated, for a considerable time, a settlement of 
 their disputes by this same absurd method of a royal 
 duel ! In truth, in this, as in many other passages 
 of his life, Edward evinced the possession, as it were 
 by intuition, of all the practical wisdom which the 
 lapse of nearly six centuries has given to the public 
 men of modern times. 
 
 The king had now returned from Wales, and had 
 received an urgent invitation from Philip of France, 
 to visit him at Amiens, in order that they might 
 consult on the subject of this dispute. He accord- 
 ingly set out on this journey, and had reached ;Can- 
 terbury, on his way to Dover, when tidings reached 
 him of the illness of his mother, queen Eleanor of 
 Provence, at the convent of Ambresbury in Wilt- 
 shire. A messenger was immediately despatched to 
 Amiens, with a letter of apology ; and Edward 
 forthwith turned his steps towards the west. On 
 her recovery, the king paid a religious visit to the 
 abbey of St. Edmundsbury, and spent a part of the 
 season of Lent in this retreat. 
 
 On the 25th of March, 1285, a parliament was 
 held at Westminster, at which the ^^ Statutes of West- 
 minster Iir were adopted. " These statutes," says 
 
THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 143 
 
 Delolme, " are the foundation of much of the law of 
 the land as it now stands." " They were framed," 
 says lord Campbell, " in a spirit of enlightened legis- 
 lation, and admirably accommodated the hiw to the 
 changed circumstances of the social system ; which 
 ought to be the object of every wise legislator." In 
 October, another parliament was held at Winchester, 
 at which the Statute of Winchester was passed. This 
 important enactment established an effective system 
 of "watch and ward," for the protection of life and 
 property ; which, from the laxity prevalent through 
 all the previous reign, had come to be greatly 
 needed. 
 
 Two other parliaments appear to have been held 
 in Westminster, in February and May 1286 ; — in 
 fact, it appears to have been Edward's desire to hold, 
 whenever practicable, three or four such meetings 
 in each year. Now, as he very seldom, in the 
 first twenty years of his reign, had any occasion 
 to ask his people for money, his object, in thus fre- 
 quently meeting his parliament, must have been that 
 of a frank and unrestrained interchange of thought 
 and feeling as to public affairs. This was a charac- 
 teristic feature of the king's mind. Weak sovereigns 
 always ye«r a parliament, and are eager for its separa- 
 tion and departure. But Edward knew nothing of fear, 
 and he had one of the most transparent of minds. 
 Even when vehemently opposed, as by archbishop 
 Winchelsey, and earls Bigod and Bohun, his first 
 thought generally was, to send for his opponents to 
 come to him ; for that '^ the king wished to have a 
 private colloquium with them." In the present case, 
 there was no quarrel or difference of opinion ; but, 
 in all probability, the chief matter for discussion was, 
 
144 THE FIEST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 the king's intended visit to the continent, and the 
 measures to be adopted for carrying on the govern- 
 ment in his absence. 
 
 Not until the summer of that year was he able to 
 take his departure. On the 24th of June, 1286, he 
 embarked, accompanied by his queen, and attended 
 by a splendid train of bishops, earls, barons, and 
 knights. He was received with due honor by king 
 Philip, and was conducted to St. Germain's, where 
 he remained for several weeks. Many important 
 questions required to be discussed by these two great 
 sovereigns. There were various claims, some of 
 which had been long undecided, on the part of the 
 crown of England, on Normandy, Limousin, Saint- 
 onge, &c. ; there was homage to be paid for posses- 
 sions in France, to king Philip ; and there was the 
 difficult question, in which Edward had consented to 
 act as umpire, between the houses of Arragon and 
 Anjou, touching the crown of Sicily. 
 
 The various questions arising out of the dis- 
 puted territory in Normandy, Limousin, Saintonge, 
 &c., occupied much time. France, now strong and 
 at peace, felt no disposition to relinquish one foot of 
 territory. On this point Philip was immovable ; 
 and Edward, though equally warlike with his grand- 
 son, the victor of Crecy, felt none of the ambitious 
 longings of Edward IIL for conquests in France; 
 nor any desire for such barren honors as those of 
 Agincourt or Poictiers. He brought the various 
 topics of discussion to a peaceful settlement ; ac- 
 cepting an annual payment in lieu of some territory 
 which Philip was unwilling to relinquish ; and gain- 
 ing, on the other hand, a concession of the right of 
 appeal as regarded Gascony. 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 145 
 
 Quitting the court of France so soon as these 
 discussions were concluded, Edward passed on to 
 Bourdeaux, where man}^ things required his presence 
 and his decision. But the chief affair which had 
 brought him to the continent remained now to be ad- 
 justed ; and, like many similar questions referred to 
 the decision of third parties, it proved a nearly- 
 inextricable controversy. The two chiefs, — the king 
 of Arragon and the count of Anjou, — were equally 
 unworthv of Edward's solicitude. He found it 
 very difficult to effect any arrangement ; and a task 
 still more hopeless, to induce them to keep their 
 engagements. Like the English barons in 1263, 
 who agreed to refer their dispute with Henry IH. 
 to the arbitration of Louis of France, meaning to 
 abide by his decision only so far as suited their own 
 purposes, — the two combatants in the present case 
 could in no way be made to carry out their own 
 pledges, or to submit to the decision which they had 
 professed to desire. Edward succeeded, at last, in 
 making a treaty, which restored the prince of Sa- 
 lerno, Charles's son, to his liberty ; but as soon as he 
 had returned home, the two rivals treated the rest of 
 their engagements with mutual disregard. 
 
 The king and queen landed at Dover in August 
 1289 ; and Edward's first acts were of a religious 
 character He had experienced, while abroad, de- 
 liverances of a more than ordinary kind. For several 
 weeks he had suffered from a dangerous illness, from 
 which, however, he had entirely recovered. And on 
 one occasion, while at Bourdeaux, a flash of lightning, 
 entering the room in which he and the queen were 
 sitting, killed two of the attendants ; while the king 
 and his consort remained untouched. We have 
 
 L 
 
146 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 already stated that, after the manner of those times, 
 Edward was a most religious king. Very naturally, 
 therefore, his first thought on landing was to pay a 
 visit to the abbey of St. Edmundsbury, there to " per- 
 form the vows made while he was in trouble." 
 
 But his presence, and his strong right arm, were 
 soon demanded by various public necessities. His 
 absence had naturally tended to give opportunity for 
 lawless practices, both among the higher and the 
 lower classes. The excellent Statute of Winchester, 
 made not long before his departure to the continent, 
 had been scarcely brought into operation. Bands of 
 outlaws concealed themselves in the forests, and way- 
 laid travellers. Often they proceeded to still greater 
 lengths. During a fair held at Boston in Lincolnshire, 
 Thomas Chamberlain, a man of some note, had set 
 fire to the town, hoping, with his associates, to 
 take advantage of the confusion, and to pillage the 
 place. He himself was taken and hanged, but none 
 of his accomplices were discovered. And the root 
 of these disorders lay deep, and in a quarter which 
 ought to have been beyond suspicion. The judges of 
 the land were corrupt, and for bribes would release 
 the robber and the murderer. The archbishop of 
 Canterbury, who probably greeted the king on his 
 landing, acquainted him with these disorders ; and 
 made known to him their secret cause, Edward lost 
 no time in acting with his accustomed energy and 
 vigour. 
 
 On the loth of October, the king celebrated the 
 feast of St Edward, and on the same day obeyed the 
 injunctions of the prophet (Isa, Iviii. 6) b}^ issuing a 
 proclamation, that all persons who had been aggrieved 
 or oppressed by the judges, or other ministers, should 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 147 
 
 come before him at the ensuing parliament, and 
 exhibit their complaints. The result shewed, that 
 the people put their trust in the king, and felt assured 
 that his promise would be kept. A fearful case was 
 established against the judges, and the chancellor 
 Burnel, whose whole course commands our respect, 
 " brought forward very serious charges against those 
 high functionaries, for taking bribes and altering the 
 records." All except two, — John de Metingham and 
 Elias de Bokingham, — were convicted. The chief 
 baron Stratton was fined 34,000 marks ; the chief 
 justice of the king's bench, 7,000 marks ; the master of 
 the rolls, 1,000; while Weyland, the chief justice of 
 the common pleas, who was the greatest delin- 
 quent, fled to the convent of the Friars Minor at 
 Burv St. Edmunds, where he took sanctuarv. The 
 king, when informed of this, sent a knight, with 
 a guard, not to violate the sanctuary, but to blockade 
 it till the judge should surrender. After holding out 
 for two months, Weyland submitted, and petitioned 
 for leave to abjure the realm. This, which involved 
 the forfeiture of all his goods, was granted to him ; 
 and his property, when taken possession of, was found 
 to amount to 100,000 marks, — ■" an almost incredible 
 sum," says Blackstone ; being, indeed, equal to about 
 one million sterling at the present day. Nothing 
 could more fully establish the guilt of the criminal, 
 or more strikingly shew the enormous extent to which 
 it had been carried. " These sentences," savs lord 
 Campbell, " had on the whole a very salutary effect." 
 The example was a terrible one ; yet in our own day 
 we have seen heavier sentences, such as transportation 
 or penal servitude, inflicted for lighter offences. The 
 king, however, immediately added a new precaution ; 
 
 L 3 
 
148 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 by ordering that, in future, every judge, on his 
 appointment, should take an oath to accept no gift or 
 gratuity from any one. 
 
 Another class of offenders was, about the same 
 time, brought under the notice of the king and his 
 parliament. Dr. Henry says, "The Jews seem to 
 have taken occasion, from the king's absence, and the 
 venality of the judges, to push their exactions to a 
 greater length than ever ; and the cry against them 
 was now become so vehement and universal, that the 
 parliament which assembled at Westminster on the 
 12th of Januarv, 1290, came to a resolution to banish 
 the whole race out of the kingdom." Rapin adds, " The 
 king was unable any longer to protect them without 
 disobliging the parliament. They had enjoyed various 
 privileges ; — such as synagogues in London, a sort of 
 high priest, and judges of their own nation, to decide 
 on their own differences. These advantages they lost 
 by not being able to curb their insatiable greediness 
 of enriching themselves by unlawful means ; such 
 as usury, adulteration of the coin, and the like." 
 Another writer cites a complaint of their exactions, 
 which shews that they were in the habit of requiring 
 from forty to sixty-five per cent, for the use of money ; 
 a system which would naturally and very quickly be 
 felt to be quite intolerable. 
 
 Hence, their entire expulsion was resolved upon, 
 and ordered. It was not an act of " religious intole- 
 rance," but of popular indignation. In effecting this, 
 the impatient exult;ition of the people led them, in 
 some cases, to actual ill-treatment of the Jews. The 
 sailors of a ship in which some of them had em- 
 barked, placed them on a sandbank at low water, and 
 left them to be drowned. The king ordered the perpe- 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 149 
 
 trators of this crime to be brought to trial, and on 
 their conviction he had them hanged. 
 
 In a parliament held on the 8th of July, 1290, 
 "several imjDortant statutes were made." And, gra- 
 dually, but constantl}^ the idea of legislation by a 
 parliament took root, and evinced its growth and ad- 
 vancement. The writs for this parliament command 
 the sheriffs to send from their respective counties, two 
 or three knights, with full powers " ad consulendum 
 et conseutiendum his quse Comites, barones et pro- 
 ceres, turn duxerint concordanda^." This parliament 
 placed upon the statute book, the statutes " de Con- 
 sultatio)ie," "de Quo Warranto,'' " Quia Emptores,'' 
 and those of " Westminsfer III.'' 
 
 In the spring and summer of this year, 1290, queen 
 Eleanor had the satisfaction of witnessing the marriage 
 of two of her daughters. The princess Joanna, born 
 at Acre, and now in her eighteenth year, was united 
 on the last day of April, in the monastery of St. John, 
 Clerkenwell, to Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, 
 the most powerful peer in England. And on the 9th of 
 July, in Westminster Abbey, Margaret, the queen's 
 third daughter, was married to John, duke of Brabant. 
 One of the young princesses, Mary, had in the preced- 
 ing year, followed the example of her grandmother, 
 Eleanor of Provence, and had taken the veil in the 
 convent of Ambresbury, where the old queen had 
 long resided. 
 
 Of the frank and cordial manners of the court, 
 and of the harmony subsisting between the king and 
 his consort, we catch a few indications from the 
 remaining records. Thus, we find that on Easter 
 
 * Parry's Hist. Parliaments, p. 54. 
 
150 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 Monday, 1290, seven of the queen's ladies of honor 
 invaded the king's private chamber, to perform the 
 feat customary on that holiday*, of "heaving" or 
 lifting the monarch in his chair ; and from their 
 hands he was only released on paying a fine of forty 
 shillings to each, to be set at liberty. On another 
 occasion, while the king and his attendants are 
 saddling and mounting for the chase at Fingriughoe 
 in Essex, the king espies Matilda of Waltham, his 
 laundress, among the lookers-on, in the court-yard. 
 He merrily proposes a wager, of a fleet horse, probably 
 with the queen, that Matilda cannot ride with them 
 and be in at the death of the stag. The wager is 
 accepted, — Matilda starts, and wins, and Edward has 
 to ransom his horse for forty shillings. 
 
 On the marriage of the king's daughter, Margaret, 
 to the duke of Brabant, as many as four hundred and 
 twenty-six minstrels were present ; and the bride- 
 groom distributed among them an hundred pounds. 
 Some entries about this period shew the king's quick 
 irascibility. On one occasion we note an expense 
 incurred in repairing a crown or coronet which he 
 had thrown behind the fire. And on the princess's 
 wedding-day, an esquire, or gentleman of the court, had 
 irritated the king by some supposed neglect or misbe- 
 haviour, and received from him a stroke on the head 
 from a wand. But the offender was able to shew the 
 king that he had been hasty and perhaps unjust. 
 Most princes would probably have been content with 
 an expression of regret ; but Edward was warm and 
 hearty, alike in reproof or in retractation. Finding 
 
 * This custom still exists, after the lapse of more than five 
 hundred years, in some of the midland counties of England. 
 
 I 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 151 
 
 that he had done his attendant a wrong, he at once 
 fined himself twenty marks, equal to about two hun- 
 dred pounds of our present money, which sum was 
 duly paid to the aggrieved party, and charged in the 
 king's wardrobe account. Gifts of various kinds 
 were constantly issuing from Edward's hand. In 
 one year, 1286, the new year's gift to queen Eleanor 
 was a cup of gold, worth £23 Qs. 8d. ; and in another, 
 a pitcher of gold, enamelled, and set with precious 
 stones. 
 
 But all this mutual and well-placed affection was 
 now to 'find the common termination of all earthly 
 enjoj^ments. That happy and entire union, which 
 had subsisted for nearly five-and-thirty years, was 
 drawing to a close. The king and queen, after taking 
 leave of their daughter Margaret, now duchess of 
 Brabant, left their palace in Westminster for the 
 midland counties. Edward had given directions for 
 a parliament to be summoned to meet at Clipston, a 
 royal palace in Sherwood forest ; and in the interim, 
 he hoped to enjoy his favorite recreation of the chase. 
 He also began to receive, about this time, frequent 
 applications from Scotland, and he probably meant 
 to go northward on that business. The queen, as 
 usual, was with him, or near him ; but while he was 
 moving about, during September, she seems to have 
 remained at Hardby, near Lincoln. We find, by the 
 mention of her physicians, and of medicine purchased 
 for her at Lincoln, that she had an illness of some 
 duration. It is described as a lingering disease, or 
 slow fever. Hardby was a manor belonging to a 
 family of the name of Weston, and we observe a Sir 
 John Weston in the queen's service. The house was 
 probably placed by the family at the queen's dis- 
 
152 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 posal ; as a quieter place for a sick person than the 
 palace of Clipston, where the parliament was about 
 to assemble. 
 
 It is usually said, that Edward was on his road 
 to Scotland, the queen slowly following him; and 
 that she was taken ill on the journey, and died before 
 he could return to her. But it has been recently 
 shewn, that he remained in the vicinity of Hardby 
 during the whole of her illness* The parliament was 
 held at Clipston, — the king being present, — at the 
 end of October, and it sat until the second week in 
 November ; when he returned to the sick-room. We 
 find him at Hardby from the 20th to the 28th of 
 November, on which day the queen died. 
 
 For two or three days, silence reigns at Hardby. 
 There is an entire cessation of all public business ; 
 as if the powerful mind of the king had been, for the 
 moment, utterly prostrated. But, after this pause, we 
 find the widowed monarch at Lincoln, where he doubt- 
 less went to issue his orders for the funeral. And 
 all the measures he took, with reference to this 
 object, and to the matters which followed, and which 
 were connected with it, give proof alike of the magni- 
 ficence of his soul, and of the depth of his feeling 
 for his departed consort. It has been said with 
 great truth, that "this funeral procession was one 
 of the most striking spectacles that England ever 
 witnessedf." 
 
 About ten days were occupied in this sad and 
 solemn journey ; the king and his relatives following 
 the body the whole way. When the procession ap- 
 proached a town which was to furnish a resting-place, 
 
 * Archaologia, vol, xxix., p. lOi). f Ibid : p. 174. 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 15S 
 
 it halted, until the ecclesiastics of the place ap- 
 proached with their procession, to bear the body to 
 its temporary abode, before the high altar in the 
 principal church. These halting-places were after- 
 wards made the sites of crosses, richly sculptured, 
 and intended to remind passengers in all future times 
 of the good queen's last journey. These crosses were 
 raised at Lincoln, Grantham, Stamford. Geddino-ton, 
 Northampton, Stony Stratford, Woburn, Dunstable, 
 St. Alban's, Waltham, West Cheap, and Charing. 
 
 The corpse of the departed queen, as it entered 
 one of these towns, was met by the monks and clergy 
 of the place, who, receiving and conveying it to its 
 temporary resting-place, kept watch over it all night 
 long, with mournful chants and unceasing prayers. 
 . It was thus slowly brought to the neighbourhood of 
 London ; and here, apparently, the king left the 
 procession by night, and entered the metropolis, in 
 order that he might meet the body, at the head of 
 the nobility, and of all the dignified clergy of Lon- 
 don and Westminster, on its approach to its last 
 resting-place. Some of those then present would be 
 able to recal to memorv the dav when, five-and- 
 thirty years before, they had accompanied king 
 Henry and the rejoicing citizens of London to meet 
 the young Eleanor, then for the first time approach- 
 ing their city as their prince's bride. 
 
 We have already alluded to the manner of the 
 disposal of the queen's remains. It is most probable 
 that it was chiefly in accordance with Eleanor's own 
 desire. One portion was deposited in Lincoln Cathe- 
 dral; another, in the church of the Black Friars in 
 London ; but the body itself was conveyed to West- 
 minster, and placed near to the tomb of king Henry, 
 
154 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 which was, even then, hardly completed. It is 
 needless to add, that the funeral rites were in accord- 
 ance with all the rest of this solemnly-magnificent 
 ceremony : " cum summa omnium reverentia et 
 honore." 
 
 The king remained at Westminster for about a 
 week after the interment ; doubtless, he was chiefly 
 occupied in giving directions for the extraordinary 
 honors which were yet to be paid to the memory 
 of his departed consort. He then retired to Ash- 
 ridge, a house of Bons Homines, recently founded by 
 his uncle, the earl of Cornwall, which had the re- 
 putation of possessing " a few drops of the precious 
 blood of Jesus." This may have been a principal 
 reason for the selection of this spot by the king, 
 who " himself reckoned among his most valued trea- 
 sures, two pieces of the rock of Calvary, which had 
 been presented to him by one Robert Ail ward, a 
 pilgrim." 
 
 Edward remained at Ashridge until the 26th of 
 January, 1291, — a long retirement for a man of 
 such active energy. He then went to Evesham, or 
 Eynsham ; and from thence to Ambresbury, where 
 his mother resided, and where he would also meet 
 his daughter Mary. The spring opens before we 
 find him actively engaged in public business ; and 
 there is reason to believe that he never ceased to 
 lament his lost Eleanor. Assuredly, the measures 
 he adopted during the next two years, to do honor to 
 her memory, were of a kind which, for munificence 
 and persevering thoughtfulness, have very seldom 
 been equalled. 
 
 The twelve crosses which were, apparently, the 
 first thought that occurred to him, constituted, in 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 156 
 
 themselves, a princely monument. There are records 
 still extant of no less than £650 17^. 5d. paid for 
 work done on that erected at Charing, — a sum equal 
 to £10,000 of our money. The cross at West Cheap 
 cost £300 ; that at Waltham, £95 ; that at St. Al- 
 ban's, £113. But it is probable that the statues 
 were supplied by a different artist. We are surely 
 within the mark when we reckon that a sum equal to 
 £30,000 or £40,000 of our present money was ex- 
 pended on these mementos. 
 
 A splendid tomb was placed in the minster at 
 Lincoln. Another, in the form of a chapel, was 
 raised in the church of the Black Friars in London. 
 The principal sepulchral monument, however, was 
 naturally allotted to Westminster Abbey. There, 
 the best artist that could be procured was employed 
 to form, in metal, a recumbent effigy of the queen, 
 placed appropriately on a richly- ornamented tomb. 
 The cost of the tomb is not recorded, but we find en- 
 tries of as much as £113 6s. %d., — equal to about 
 £1,700 of our present money, — paid to the artist 
 employed on queen Eleanor and king Henry's effigies. 
 A distinct payment also appears of a smaller sum, 
 for the erection of a workshop, in which these two 
 statues were fabricated. 
 
 But the chief work still remained to be done. 
 Edward had noble and splendid conceptions of 
 princely works and long-enduring memorials ; but 
 his sagacious and reflecting mind could not rest 
 satisfied with works in stone, or works in metal. 
 The almost universal belief of the church in Eng- 
 land in those days, — even "holy bishop Robert" not 
 dissenting, — was, that prayers and alms especially 
 directed to the welfare of a departed soul, had a 
 
156 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 beneficial effect upon the condition of that soul in 
 the intermediate state. This opinion, when cast into 
 the crucible of the Reformation, was found to be 
 dross ; but in the thirteenth century it had not even 
 been questioned. Edward's care, therefore, for the 
 well-being of his beloved Eleanor in the invisible 
 world, soon began to manifest itself. While at Ash- 
 ridge, and himself engaged in continual prayers for 
 his departed consort, he found time to write " a very 
 earnest, pious, and pathetic letter, to the abbot of 
 Clugny," one of the most famous monasteries in Eu- 
 rope, entreating the prayers of that fraternity for her 
 " whom, living, he had dearly loved ; and whom, 
 though dead, he should never cease to love." And 
 such a request was, doubtless, accompanied by a 
 princely offering. But, in his own realm, Edward 
 could be more definite and elaborate. 
 
 At Hardby, a chantry was founded, and another 
 at Elynton. And, on the first and second anniversa- 
 ries of the queen's death, we find mention of various 
 religious services and of large distributions of alms. 
 But the principal provision was naturally reserved 
 for Westminster. In his gifts to the abbey-church, for 
 perpetual prayers and alms on behalf of the departed 
 queen, " the king was quite profuse." He gave to 
 this church the manors of Knoll, Arden's Grafton, 
 and Langdon, Warwickshire, with other lands in the 
 same county ; and the manors of Bidbrook, in Essex, 
 Westerham, in Kent, and Turweston, in Bucks, for 
 a perpetual commemoration. Special services, of the 
 most solemn kind, were provided for, and seven-score 
 poor persons were to have charity. The charter for 
 these gifts was dated in October 1292, — shewing that 
 neither the lapse of time, nor the distractions of the 
 
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 157 
 
 momentous Scottish controversy, could withdraw 
 his mind from this settled purpose. 
 
 Edward, however, was well versed in the Old 
 Testament scriptures, and he remembered Isaiah's 
 warnings against religious ceremonies without justice 
 or charity. On the anniversaries of his consort's 
 death, we often remark the occurrence of larse distri- 
 butions of alms. But another thing is also noticeable. 
 The queen had enjoyed, from her husband's affection, 
 large landed possessions. Her stewards or bailiffs 
 might have wronged or oppressed her tenants. We 
 know not what proclamation may have been made, 
 or invitation given, calling upon all who had any 
 complaints to offer, to come forward ; but it seems 
 quite clear, that some such proclamation must have 
 been issued ; for the records are very numerous, in 
 the next jear or two, of the investigation of such 
 complaints. And a fixed and honest purpose to 
 do justice to all parties, is evident in all these trans- 
 actions. 
 
 The sorrow felt for queen Eleanor's death was, 
 apparently, general and sincere. Her name is con- 
 nected with no political contention or intrigue ; and 
 she seems to have made no enemies. Rishauger, 
 writing at the time of her death, styles her, " this 
 most saintly woman and queen ; " and adds, some- 
 what hyperbolically, that she was like " a pillar that 
 supported the whole state." Walsingham, who wrote 
 in the next age, described her more intelligibly, as 
 "a woman pious, modest, pitiful, benevolent to all." 
 He adds, that " the sorrowful, everywhere, so far as 
 her dignity allowed, she consoled, and those who 
 were at variance she delighted to reconcile." But 
 her best eulogium is found in her consort's grief. 
 
168 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 
 
 His penetration and sagacity, his native nobleness of 
 soul, would have rendered it impossible for him to 
 love a mean and unworthy object. But his affection 
 for her was not a mere youthful passion. It was after 
 a companionship of five-and-thirty years that he gave 
 his testimony to her worth ; and that testimony was 
 one which few women indeed, in the whole world's 
 history, have ever received, or have ever merited. 
 
CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 
 
 PAUSE AND EETKOSPECT. 
 A.D. 1290. 
 
 We have now passed the prime of Edward's life, 
 and the first and largest portion of his reign. His 
 gentle consort, after eighteen years of married life as 
 princess, and eighteen more as queen, had been taken 
 from him, and he was left alone, just when the chief 
 troubles of his life were about to open before him. 
 At the time of her death, he had entered his fifty-se- 
 cond year. After her death, he reigned somewhat more 
 than sixteen years ; and this latter period was the most 
 perplexed and toilsome portion of his reign ; — it is 
 that portion, also, with reference to which many un- 
 just accusations have been brought against him. The 
 vehement complaints of the Scotch all rest upon the 
 transactions of the last twelve years of his life. Two 
 or three modern writers have passed censures on his 
 political course in England ; but these censures, also, 
 concern the same period. It may be said, that " the 
 times try the man ;" and that we should judge the king 
 rather by his conduct in difficulties, than by the tenor 
 of his more peaceful years. But surely when we see 
 a young prince coming to a throne, amidst great 
 popularity and almost unbounded power, it is fair to 
 form a judgment of him from his own unbiassed and 
 voluntary course, rather than from his passage 
 
160 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 through more troublous times. In the first and 
 happiest period of his reign, we see Edward in the 
 course which he voluntarily adopted and marked out 
 for himself ; while in his later years we find him in 
 circumstances of peril, — circumstances which came 
 upon him, and were not chosen or desired by him. 
 And the facts which are established, with reference 
 to the first period, will serve to throw light on the 
 facts which are in dispute, with reference to the 
 second. The insight which we have gained into his 
 character, by the history of his life from his early 
 manhood to his fifty-second year, will largely aid us 
 in considering some of the accusations brought 
 against him in his later years. It is not often that a 
 man who has passed half a century in virtue and 
 honor becomes perfidious, revengeful, and unjust, 
 towards the close of his life. 
 
 Edward, when he ascended the throne, found his 
 choice of a career entirely within his own power. 
 He was at liberty to comply with any of the nu- 
 merous temptations which always beset the wearer 
 of a crown, — such as luxury and vice ; ambition of 
 conquest ; idleness, or a love of mere pleasure and 
 amusement. But he yielded to none of these. He 
 was an earnest constructor, improver, and reformer. 
 He was a laborious and painstaking ruler and legis- 
 lator. He was, to use old Fabian's words, " slow to all 
 manner of strife." He had no other ambition than 
 that of bringing, England, Scotland, and Wales into 
 harmony, — three realms acting in unison, and never 
 injuring each other. Surely, in weighing and esti- 
 mating the character of this king, it is natural and 
 just to pause at the moment at which we have now 
 arrived, when more than half of his reign had passed 
 
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 161 
 
 over, and to say, During these eighteen years Ed- 
 ward had ample scope and opportunity to choose his 
 own course, and to exhibit fully his real character ; 
 and he gave himself neither to idleness and trifling, 
 nor to foreign conquest, nor to sensual enjoyments. 
 His life rather reminds us of the dream of our 
 English Laureate in his latest romance, when he 
 depicts one whom he styles "the blameless king." 
 
 Let us look a little more closely at Edward's 
 conduct in two or three respects. And first of that, 
 the failure in which constituted his father's chief 
 source of misery and peril, — the proper management 
 of the royal revenues. 
 
 For nearly a century past, all in this department 
 had been confusion, mismanagement, and trouble. 
 Henry IIL, though not vicious or profligate like his 
 father, was profuse and negligent. Even when pen- 
 niless, and deeply involved in debt, he could delight 
 in giving feasts of more than royal magnificence ; 
 and then, when in the greatest distress for money, 
 he could threaten, beseech, or recklessly promise 
 anything which might relieve him from his present 
 difficulty. On Edward's accession, all this instantly 
 ceases. As if by magic, order succeeds disorder^. 
 The royal revenues fully meet the royal expenses. 
 
 * The entries in the Exchequer Issues, in Henry's reign, ran 
 thus :— " To Humphrey de Bohun, earl of Hereford, ^6120 for 
 50 casks of wine, taken from him hy Imbert Pugeis (a soldier) for 
 the king's use." " To Gerard de Bosco, merchant of Boiu-deaux, 
 70 marks, for 20 casks of wine, taken from him for the queen's 
 use." But on Edwai'd's succession, the change is immediate. 
 "To Raymund de Alemaunt of Bourdeaux, £46 13s. for 20 casks 
 of wine purchased from him for the king's use, by Gregory de 
 Eokesle and Matthew de Columbarius, the king's butlers." 
 
 M 
 
162 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 In eighteen years, the king only appealed to his 
 people four tim'es for assistance, and then on these 
 special occasions : — 
 
 In his fourth year, the second after his coronation, 
 he asked and obtained a fifteenth, to clear off his 
 remaining liabilities, on account of his expedition to 
 the Holy Land. 
 
 In his fifth year, he asked for a twelfth,, to pro- 
 vide for the expenses of the anticipated war with 
 Wales. 
 
 In his eleventh year, the war in Wales having 
 broken ont a second time, he obtained a thirtieth from 
 the laity, and a twentieth from the clergy. 
 
 And in his eighteenth year, having returned from 
 a prolonged visit to Gascony and other parts, where 
 he had incurred many expenses, he asked and 
 obtained a fifteenth. 
 
 These four small levies are all that Edward re- 
 quired during the first eighteen years of his reign. 
 The termination, for ever, of the destructive warfare 
 on the borders of Wales, which had so long laid waste 
 several counties, was far more than an abundant 
 compensation to his people. And had Edward never 
 been assailed by others, the rest of his reign might 
 have passed over without any further demands upon 
 his subjects. Had not Philip of France endeavoured 
 to deprive him of Gascony, Avhile the Scotch, in 
 reckless violation of their recent oaths, allied them- 
 selves to France, and invaded England, there is no 
 reason to suppose that any burdens would have been 
 laid upon the people, or that the earls of Norfolk 
 and Hereford would have found any opportunity for 
 their resistance or their " patriotism." 
 
 Yet the just and wise economy which was always 
 
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 163 
 
 practised by this king, was kept in harmony with a 
 truly ro3^al munificence. Beginning at the very 
 oulset, — Edward's coronation-banquet was one of 
 unusual splendour and liberality. His round-table 
 celebrations must have been very costly. Fond of 
 huntino;, his stables must have occasioned a con- 
 siderable outlay. His presents were magnificent. 
 His charities were very large. The entries under 
 this head, in his Wardrobe Accounts, were numerous, 
 and must have reached an aggregate, in each year, 
 of large amount. One of the chronicles of the day 
 makes this brief allusion to his charities : — 
 
 " King Edward, turning aside to the northern 
 parts, celebrated Easter at Newcastle, where he 
 distributed great abundance of oblations in the 
 monasteries, and gave large alms to the people ; — 
 insomuch, that many men not poor did not blush 
 to pretend themselves so, being allured by so great 
 liberalitv*." 
 
 On the first anniversary of his consort's death, 
 besides great and costly solemnities at Westminster, 
 the Black Friars in London, and at Lincoln, we find 
 mention made of many other places, — Haverfordwest, 
 Burgh, Haverleigh, Somerton, Lindhurst, Ledes, and 
 Langley, — where the day was observed with special 
 rites, and the distribution of alms. All this was 
 done at the king's expense ; and sums varying from 
 £19 to £30 were given to each place. But £30, in 
 those days, was nearly equal to £500 at the present 
 time. 
 
 On the second anniversary, besides many other 
 celebrations, alms were distributed to the prisoners 
 
 * Chronicle of Lanercost, a.d. 1291. 
 
 M 3 
 
164 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 in Newgate ; to the hospitals of St. Giles, St. James, 
 St. Thomas, St. Mary, and St. Bartholomew, in 
 London ; and also to the seven houses of Friars Men- 
 dicants in the same city. 
 
 But while the king's charities were thus ex- 
 tensive, his household affairs were managed with the 
 utmost prudence. A modern writer observes, that 
 " his household as king was both well-regulated and 
 economical. We have a record of his expenses while 
 residing at Langley, Bucks, in Lent 1290." This, of 
 course, was not a season of festivity ; but we find that 
 "in the first week his expenses were £7 10s. A\d., in 
 the second, £5 195. O^r/., and in the third, £5 12s. 2|f/.^" 
 Now, bearing in mind the habits and usages of 
 that timet, when the regulated price of a lamb was 
 sixpence, and of a goose, fourpe^ice, we shall see at a 
 glance, that this expenditure for a king, in retirement 
 during the season of Lent, was both liberal and 
 economical. It contrasts forcibly with the reckless 
 extravagance of his father Henry, and of his still 
 more wasteful son, the second Edward. Henry, after 
 
 * Blaauw on the Barons' War, p. 34. 
 
 + The Chronicle of Lanercost gives us this anecdote of the man- 
 ners of thatday: — " Richard de Clare, earl of Gloucester, paid a visit 
 to Robert Grossetete,hishop of Lincoln, who received him with great 
 honor, and desired his seneschal to provide a fitting dinner. At table 
 the earl was seated at his host's right hand, and it was a day when 
 meat w-as not permitted by the church. It -was customary to eat 
 choice sea-wolves," (the dog-fish, still eaten in parts of Normandy,) 
 " and the servants placed a very fine fish before the bishop, and a 
 smaller one before the earl. The bishop was angry, and said, 
 ' Take away this fish, or else bring the earl one equally fine,' The 
 servants said, that there was no other so large. ' Then,' said the 
 bishop, ' take away this fish, and give it to the poor, and bring 
 me one like the earl's.' " (Chronicle of Lanercost, p. 44.) 
 
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 165 
 
 his royal festivities at Bonrdeaux and Paris, in 1254, 
 returned home burdened with debts, which he himself 
 described as " horrible to think of." And the younger 
 EdwardjWhenjustcoramencing life, seems tohave been 
 accustomed to spend as much daily as we have just 
 seen his father spend weeMy I We have a record of 
 his household expenses for three days in 1293, when 
 he was staying in a country residence. On Thursday 
 his expenses amounted to £7 4^. 5d/., on Friday, to 
 £6 85. lo?., and on Saturday, to £6 4^; being at the rate 
 of about £46 per week. The expenditure of his house- 
 hold in that one year amounted to £3,8 46 Is. 6<i., which, 
 at the present value of money, would be equal to more 
 than £50,000 per annum. That such habits in youth 
 should lead to a reign of discomfort, closing in dis- 
 honor, is not to be wondered at. But we must 
 return to our present subject. 
 
 The uprightness and practical wisdom which 
 marked Edward's management of his pecuniary 
 affairs, were equally conspicuous in all other depart- 
 ments. His time, his thoughts, and his whole soul, 
 were given to his high and onerous duties. He had 
 succeeded to the throne of a realm which, for more 
 than eighty years, had not known the sway of one 
 competent sovereign. Universal laxity and disorder 
 prevailed. Instantly, therefore, and with a vigorous 
 hand, he applied himself to the work of establishing 
 a system of wise laws, and of improving the adminis- 
 tration of justice. His sagacious and vigorous mind 
 penetrated and pervaded every department. And 
 hence it is, that in the judgment of all competent 
 historians, the thirteenth century is the starting-point 
 of the history of England. A writer of the Elizabethan 
 
166 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 age% repeatedly notices with admiration, " liis noble 
 industry," — his " unceasing labours ;" and this praise 
 is justified by the recorded facts. In former reigns, 
 foreign contests, and the suppression of rebellion, 
 or the enjoyment of hunting, filled up the reigns of 
 the Norman kings. But Edward lived for England. 
 In the former reigns, a brief charter had sometimes 
 been extorted from the king; and in Henry's long 
 reign, our statute book commences, with six ordi- 
 nances, made in the course of fifty-six years. But 
 so soon as Edward ascends the throne, legislation 
 of the highest order at once begins. Crowned in 
 1274, in 1275 we have the Statutes of Westminste?', 
 "a code, rather than an Act of Parliament." In 
 1276, the statutes on Coroners and on Bigami/. 
 Occupied with Wales for one year, in 1278 we have 
 the Statute of Gloucester ; and in 1279, the great 
 Statute of Mortmain. Once more Wales claimed his 
 attention; but in 1283 was passed "the famous 
 statute" ^jJe Mercatoribus. In 1284, followed the 
 Statutes of Wales. In 1285, the second Statutes of 
 
 Westminster, and subsequently, the Statute of Win- 
 Chester. He was then abroad for three years; but on 
 his return, we have, immediately, the statutes Quo 
 
 Warranto, and Quia Emptores, and Westminster III. 
 Thus, it is evident, that Edward deemed, most wisely 
 and justly, that the establishment of good and whole- 
 some laws was his primary duty. 
 
 A hasty observer might remark, that the quantity 
 of this legislation was not large ; and that a statute 
 or two in a year might be reckoned a slow rate of 
 production. But the answer to this is obvious. The 
 
 * Castra Regia. Roxburgh Club. 
 
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 167 
 
 work of legislation was but newly undertaken, and 
 those who had addressed themselves to it were 
 prudentl}" cautious. Some of these statutes, too, were 
 large and comprehensive measures ; well deserving a 
 prolonged and careful consideration. But this brings 
 us to a distinct and separate question, — the cha- 
 racter and value of Edward's legislation. And this 
 is the most wonderful feature in the whole case; 
 for the high quality of this legislation is probably 
 unparalleled. Who is a higher authority on such 
 questions than sir Edward Coke ? who says of 
 Edward's laws : — 
 
 " All the statutes made in the reign of this king 
 may justly be styled establishments ; because they 
 are more constant, standing, and durable laws, than 
 have been made ever since. Justly, therefore, may 
 this king be called, our Justinian." 
 
 Fifty years after sir Edward Coke, lived the great 
 and good sir Matthew Hale, who, in describing the 
 growth of the common law of England, says of this 
 
 reign 
 
 "Never did the laws, in any one age, receive so 
 great and sudden an advancement. Nay, I may safely 
 say, that all the ages since his time have not done so 
 much, in reference to the orderly settling and es- 
 tablishing the distributive justice of this kingdom, as 
 he did in the short compass of his single reign." He 
 adds, "Upon the whole, it appears, that the very 
 scheme, mould, and model, of the common law, as it 
 was rectified and set in order by this king, so in a 
 great measure it has continued the same, through all 
 succeeding ages, to this day. So that the mark or 
 epocha we are to take for the true starting of the law 
 of England, what it is, is to be considered, stated. 
 
168 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 and estimated, from what this king left it. Before his 
 time, it was, in a great measure, rude and unpolished ; 
 while, on the other hand, as it was thus polished and 
 ordered by him, so it has remained hitherto, without 
 any great or considerable alteration," 
 
 A century after sir Matthew Hale, wrote sir 
 William Blackstone ; who, after repeating what sir 
 Matthew had said, goes on, as follows : — 
 
 " It would be needless to enumerate all the par- 
 ticulars of these regulations, (king Edward's laws ;) 
 but the principal may be reduced under these heads : — 
 
 " He established, confirmed, and settled, the great 
 charter, and the charter of forests. 
 
 " He gave a mortal wound to the encroachments 
 of the pope and his clergy, by limiting and establishing 
 the bounds of ecclesiastical jurisdiction ; and by 
 obliging the ordinary, to whom the goods of intestates 
 at that time belonged, to discharge the debts of the 
 deceased. 
 
 " He defined the limits of the several temporal 
 courts of the highest jurisdiction; the king's bench, 
 common pleas, and exchequer, so that they might not 
 interfere with each other's proper business. 
 
 " He settled the boundaries of the inferior courts, 
 in counties, hundreds, and manors. 
 
 " He secured the property of the subject, by 
 abolishing all arbitrary taxes and talliages, levied 
 without consent of parliament. 
 
 *' He guarded the common justice of the kingdom 
 from abuses, by giving up the royal prerogative of 
 sending mandates to interfere in private causes. 
 
 " He settled the forms, solemnities, and effect of 
 fines levied in the court of common pleas. 
 
PAUSE AND EETROSPECT. 169 
 
 " He first established a repository for the public 
 records of the kingdom. 
 
 " He improved upon the laws of king Alfred, by 
 that great and orderly method of watch and ward, 
 established by the statute of Winchester. 
 
 " He settled and reformed many abuses incident 
 to tenures, by the statute of Quia Emptores. 
 
 " He instituted a speedier way for the recovery of 
 debts, by granting execution, not only upon goods and 
 chattels, but also upon lands, by writ of elegit ; a sig- 
 nal benefit to a trading people. 
 
 " He effectually provided for the recovery of ad- 
 vowsons, as temporal rights. 
 
 " He closed the great gulph, in which all the landed 
 property of the kingdom was in danger of being 
 swallowed, by his reiterated statutes of Mortmain. 
 
 " I might continue," adds sir William, " this 
 catalogue much further ; but upon the whole we may 
 observe, that the very scheme and model of the ad- 
 ministration of common justice between party and 
 party, was entirely settled by this king." 
 
 Legislatio7i, then, was the chosen path of Edward, 
 — the work which he voluntarily took in hand, and in 
 which he constantly persevered ; — legislation, and not 
 war, as so many of our historians would have us 
 believe. Drawn, as he was, repeatedly into war, he 
 never once voluntarily engaged in it. The conflict 
 in Wales, — the only one in which he was involved 
 during the first twenty years of his reign, was clearly 
 forced upon him. He could only have avoided it 
 by giving up one of England's ancient rights, and 
 by leaving Wales free to wage perpetual wars with 
 England. 
 
170 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 As a legislator, therefore, Edward stands pre- 
 eminent, above all other sovereigns, ancient or 
 modern. Yet this is scarcely half tlae praise which 
 is his due. Legislation which depended on a single 
 life, would obviously have one manifest imperfection. 
 The maker of good laws might be succeeded by a 
 maker of bad ones ; or by a ruler who was incompe- 
 tent to make any. Hence we discern the immense 
 debt of gratitude which we owe to this wise and 
 patriotic king, for the establishment, not merely of 
 many admirable laws, but also of a legislature, fitted 
 and intended to carry on that work in all time to come. 
 " Tlie word parliament first occurs in our statute hook 
 in the preamble to the iStatutes of Westminster, 1274." 
 But not for the word only, but for the thing, are we 
 indebted to Edward. The word, indeed, had been 
 used a few years before ; as early as 1246 one of the 
 king's councils received that name; but the thing, — 
 the institution, — which we now call a parliament, was 
 bestowed upon England by the noble mind of king 
 Edward. 
 
 The expounders and historians of the constitu- 
 tion of England too often intermingle and confound 
 things which are essentially distinct. Into the forma- 
 tion of what we now so highly prize as the British 
 parliament, there enter, of necessity, four ideas. 
 Two of these existed before Edward's day ; but the 
 remaining two, which are by far the most valuable, 
 we owe mainly to him. 
 
 (1) The king must have a council — this, in Norman 
 times, was an assembly of the great men, the barons 
 of the realm ; and (2), this council must be con- 
 sulted, and must have a voice, in the imposition 
 of taxes. So far as this had England proceeded in 
 
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 171 
 
 its search after liberty before Edward had risen out 
 of his childhood. Magna Charta declares as much 
 as this ; and the chronicles of the reign of Henry 
 III. tell us, as;ain and asrain, that " the kino; held 
 a council, and asked for an aid." And, towards 
 the end of his reign, some of these councils are 
 called " parliaments." 
 
 But now Edward ascends the throne, and at once 
 two other ideas appear, — two principles of unspeakable 
 value. In his very first parliament, and in the very 
 first Act of that parliament, these two principles are 
 broadly and plainly asserted ; namely (3), that such 
 an assembly, now first officially styled " a parlia- 
 ment," properly consists of prelates and lords, and 
 "all the commonalty of the re«/m, thither summoned." 
 And (4), that one of its chief functions is to deliberate 
 upon proposals laid before it, which are to become, 
 on its assent, statutes of the realm. 
 
 It is the enunciation of these two principles 
 which constitutes the real glory of king Edward's 
 reign. That enunciation was his own voluntary act ; 
 and its sincerity was proved by all the measures of 
 his subsequent career. His life was devoted to the 
 working out of this great theory. His first statute, 
 in its preamble, gives a bold and fearless sketch of a 
 free legislature ; and before he died, he had gathered 
 around him, as elected members of that legislature, 
 the representatives of all the most populous towns 
 of his realm of England. 
 
 Justly then does the writer, whom we have al- 
 ready cited, — a contemporary of Spenser and Shakes- 
 peare, — describe this king as one " in whom we see 
 the value of wisdom, kingly powers, and noble 
 industry," — one who "was a fatherly king to his 
 
172 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 people; employing all his life, care, and labor, to 
 benefit and nourish the commonwealth," — one, in 
 fine, " in whom the good government and common- 
 wealth of England had their chief foundation*." 
 
 * Castra Regia. Eoxburgh Club. 
 
CHAPTER THE SEYENTH. 
 
 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.— THE ARBITRATION. 
 A.D. 1291—1292. 
 
 We have now passed in review the first eighteen 
 years of Edward's reign, and have seen how utterly 
 baseless are those representations which depict him 
 as a man of an encroaching spirit, of "boundless 
 ambition," and as " always intent on his own per- 
 sonal aggrandizement." Throughout this first and 
 longest portion of his reign, including the very prime 
 of his life, we have found him always choosing the 
 works of peace. And when forced, by the wilfulness 
 of the Welsh chiefs, into the field, he was unques- 
 tionably slow in commencing hostilities, anxious to 
 use every method of avoiding them, and prompt to 
 seize any opportunity that offered of withdrawing 
 from a state of warfare. We shall now have to de- 
 scribe those transactions with Scotland, into which 
 Edward was drawn in the nineteenth and twentieth 
 years of his reign, and which ended by placing John 
 Baliol on the throne of that kingdom ; and we shall 
 find, on the part of the English king, the same cau- 
 tion, prudent deliberation, and desire to respect the 
 rights of others, which were apparent in the contro- 
 versies with Wales eight or ten years before. 
 
 Alexander IH. of Scotland had married, in 1249, 
 Edward's sister Margaret ; and we have already no- 
 
174 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 ticed, in a former chapter, the visit of the young 
 king and queen to the English court in 1256. The 
 Scottish (|ueen again visited her parents in 1260, 
 and in February 1261 she gave birth, in Windsor 
 Castle, to a daughter, who afterwards became queen 
 of Norway. Alexander himself, with his queen, at- 
 tended the coronation of Edward in 1274, and both 
 Knighton and Trivet distinctly state, that he did 
 homage to the king of England on the following day. 
 But this, as it happened in the middle of a feast, 
 might refer to mere verbal and unrecorded expres- 
 sions ; and it seems to have been held necessary that 
 this great public act should be done at a council, 
 and accurately recorded. Correspondence accordingly 
 took place relative to Alexander's next visit to Eng- 
 land ; and it was not until the year 1278 that the act 
 of homage appears to have been properly performed 
 and put on record. Discussions seem to have taken 
 place on a question which had long been at issue : — 
 whether the homage paid was for the kingdom of 
 Scotland, or for certain lands held by the Scotch king 
 in the northern counties of England ; and the form 
 of homage which was finally adopted leaves this 
 question open. By it^ Alexander " becomes Ed- 
 ward's liegeman against all his enemies*," without 
 particularizing for what territories he so engages 
 himself. There appears, through the whole remainder 
 of Alexander's life, no breach of amity between him 
 and Edward ; nor any attempt, on Edward's part, to 
 set up any new pretensions. 
 
 Ten or twelve years passed over, and the daughter 
 of the Scottish king, born in 1261 at Windsor, was 
 
 * Rymer's Fadera, vol. ii., Sec. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 175 
 
 married to Eric, king of Norway. Her brother, the 
 only surviving son of Alexander, was also married, 
 about the same time, to a daughter of the count of 
 Flanders. But a comparatively short period saw the 
 removal of the whole family by death, with the single 
 exception of a daughter of the Norwegian queen. 
 Margaret, Alexander's queen and Edward's sister, 
 died in 1274; her son in 1282 or 1283 ; and her 
 daughter, the queen of Norway, in 1283 or 1284. 
 Finally, Alexander himself was killed by a fall from 
 his horse in 1286 ; and thus the succession devolved 
 on the last descendant of his house, the young prin- 
 cess, styled " the maiden of Norway," the only child 
 of Eric and Alexander's daughter. 
 
 On Alexander's bereavement of both his children, 
 a meeting of the estates of the realm had been held 
 at Scone in 1283-4 ; at which meeting the succession 
 was declared to belong to "the maiden of Norway." 
 On the last sudden and unexpected calamity, — the 
 death of the king himself, — another meeting was held, 
 and recourse was at once had to king Edward, who 
 was the great-uncle of Eric's daughter. He was in 
 Gascony at the time, and he merely counselled them 
 to choose a regency, and to carry on the government 
 in the young queen's name. The intelligence seems 
 not to have at all hastened his return home, which 
 did not take place until two or three years after- 
 wards^. 
 
 * Mr. Tytler, one of the best and fairest of the Scottish his- 
 torians, thus describes the king's conduct at this period : — " Ed- 
 ward contented himself with observing the turn which matters 
 should take in Scotland, certain that his power and influence 
 would in the end induce the difi"erent parties to appeal to him ; 
 and confident that the longer time he gave to these factions to 
 
176 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 A council or parliament was accordingly held at 
 Scone on the 11th of April, 1286, at which a regency, 
 consisting of six " guardians of the realm," was ap- 
 pointed. The persons chosen were, the bishop of iSt. 
 Andreivs, the earl of Fife, the earl of Buchan, the 
 bishop of Glasgow, the lord of Badenoch, and James, 
 the steward of Scotland. 
 
 But, in the absence of any visible sovereign, it 
 was not surprising that the Bruces, and Baliols, and 
 other families which claimed to be in the line of suc- 
 cession, should draw together, consult, and form con- 
 federacies, having in view the contingency Avhich 
 afterwards did actually arise, — that the young 
 " maiden of Norway " might die before she could 
 ascend the throne. These rivalries and confederacies 
 increased, and the parties strove with each other, 
 until, at length, as the historian of Scotland confesses, 
 '•'open war broke out between the adherents of Baliol 
 and Bruce ; and, for two j^ears after the death of the 
 king, continued its ravages in the country*." 
 
 Such was the state of affairs during the last por- 
 tion of Edward's stay on the continent ; and assuredly, 
 for this sad predicament of Scotland, he was in no 
 
 quarrel among themselves and embroil the country, the more ad- 
 vantageously would this interference take place." 
 
 Edward was at this time entirely occupied in the thankless 
 task of mediating between the princes of Arragon and Anjou, — 
 an endeavour which occupied him for a long time, and from 
 which he could not with honor withdraw. He also suftcred a 
 long and dangerous illness. Yet, for »o< interfering in Scottish 
 affairs at this moment, he is to suffer the imputation of an insi- 
 dious and designing policy. Thus, whether he interferes or docs 
 not interfere, whether he speaks or is silent, he is equally blamed 
 by a native of the northern kingdom. 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 72. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITEATION. 177 
 
 way answerable. But the natural and inevitable 
 consequence was, that so soon as he arrived in Eng- 
 land, he was compelled, by appeals directed to him 
 from all sides, to begin to concern himself with the 
 troubles of that kingdom. Sir Francis Palgrave 
 has shewn, by a reference to the original documents, 
 that such appeals were addressed to him by the earl 
 of Mar, by Robert Bruce, lord of Annandale, and by 
 a body called " the seven earls of Scotland." These 
 parties all " appealed to the king of England and his 
 roj'al crown." So invoked, the king invited them to 
 send commissioners to meet him at Salisbury in No- 
 vember 1289, there to treat of " certain matters of 
 import ;" and to which meeting the king of Norway 
 would also send an ambassador of his own. The 
 Scotch readily acceded to his proposal, and they sent 
 to this meeting at Salisbury the bishop of St. An- 
 drew's, the bishop of Glasgow, Robert Bruce, and 
 John Comyn. 
 
 The " matters of import " which Edward pro- 
 pounded to this meeting, concerned a plan, the best 
 which human skill could have devised, for restoring 
 and securing the tranquillity of Scotland. The young 
 prince of Wales was now in his sixth year, — the 
 maiden of Norway was of nearly the same age. If 
 these two children were betrothed to each other, the 
 kingdom of Scotland would at once be placed under 
 the joint protection of England and Norway. Thus 
 all would be security and order ; and, in lapse of 
 time, on the succession of the young prince to the 
 throne of England, the unity and harmony of the 
 two kingdoms, under one head, would be secured in 
 the best and most unobjectionable manner. Even 
 the Scottish historians, with one consent, admit the 
 
178 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 wisdom and prudence of this plan, which Hume him- 
 self describes as " favorable to the happiness and 
 grandeur of both kingdoms." 
 
 They also concede, that the negotiation was con- 
 ducted with the greatest fairness and liberality on 
 Edward's part. Appealed to on all sides, he could 
 not question his own position, as, practically, the 
 superior lord. The king of Norwa}^ had instructed 
 his ambassadors to treat with the Scottish commis- 
 sioners "^^ only in the presence of the king of England." 
 And, referring to a claim which he had upon the 
 Scots for a sum of about 3,000 marks, he requests 
 the king " to issue his commands to the guardians of 
 Scotland " to pay him the money. The young queen, 
 also, while she was the daughter of the king of Nor- 
 waj^ was also the daughter of Edward's niece. In 
 every way, therefore, the interposition of these two 
 kings was the reverse of officiousness or assumption. 
 
 Nevertheless, Edward, with his usual liberality of 
 feeling and practical wisdom, allowed the Scottish 
 commissioners to make almost their own terms. He 
 treated with them, says one Scottish writer, "quite 
 on a footing of equality." "The terms agreed upon," 
 says another, " were strictly honorable to the weaker 
 party." And thus was framed and completed, so far 
 as human beings could accom})lish it, "a project," 
 which Hume describes as " so happily formed and so 
 amicabl}^ conducted." 
 
 But everything human is uncertain, and this 
 wise and prudent plan was wholly subverted in a few 
 short months by the death of the young queen on 
 her voyage from Norway in tlu^ autumn of 1290. 
 "This fatal event," says Mr. Tytler, "which may 
 justly be called a great national calamity, struck 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIPvS. THE ARBITRATION. 179 
 
 sorrow and despair into the heart of the kingdom." 
 Obviously, that state of anarchy and civil war which 
 had recently called for the interposition of the two 
 kings, might now be expected to return. The pre- 
 tensions of the rival candidates so nearly resembled 
 each other, and the difference between them was so 
 slight, that neither could be expected to give way ; 
 and a bloody, and perhaps a long-protracted strife, 
 seemed almost inevitable. 
 
 It is abundantly clear that the arbitration of some 
 eminent and powerful personage was the only con- 
 ceivable way by which the Scottish nation could 
 escape from this fearful peril. And to whom, but to 
 Edward, should they appeal in this emergency ? 
 To him they had already gone, more than once or 
 twice, in their recent troubles. Bruce, one of the 
 claimants, had been so far connected with Edward in 
 times past, that had any other referee been named, 
 he would probably have refused to acquiesce. But 
 to an appeal to the king of England, no objection 
 seems to have been made in any quarter. 
 
 The bishop of St. Andrew's, whose name has just 
 been given, as the first on the list of the " guardians 
 of the realm," and the first of the commissioners 
 sent to Salisbury, wrote to Edward on the 7th of 
 October, 1290, ''^entreating him to approach the 
 border, to give consolation to the people of Scotland, 
 to prevent the effusion of blood, and to enable the 
 faithful men of the realm to preserve their oath, by 
 choosing him for their king, who by right ought to he 
 so'^y For so calling upon Edward, the bishop is 
 severely handled by many Scottish historians. But 
 
 * Eymer's Fcedera, vol. ii., p. 741. 
 
 3n 
 
180, SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 surely, with a civil war impending, the bishop de- 
 serves little blame ; especially when we see that the 
 prince to whom he thus applied was afterwards 
 accepted as the arbitrator by all the competitors, and 
 by the assembled nobles of Scotland. 
 
 On the fact, that Edward was called upon by the 
 chief men in Scotland at this juncture, there is no 
 dispute, even among the Scottish historians them- 
 selves. Dr. Henry says, "The regents, the states, 
 and even the competitors, agreed to refer this great 
 controversy to the king of England ; " and " the 
 bishop of St. Andrew's was sent into England to 
 inform Edward of this reference, and to entreat him 
 to take upon him the office*." And Mr. Tytler 
 adds, that "there is also reason to suspect, from 
 documents recently discovered, that Bruce and his 
 adherents had not only claimed his (Edward's) pro- 
 tection at this moment, but secretly offered to ac- 
 knowledge his right of superiorityf." 
 
 Thus invoked by the leading men in Scotland, 
 who wrote to him, — " We shall be involved in blood, 
 unless the Most High provide a remedy by your 
 interposition," — Edward, so soon as he had recovered 
 from the depression occasioned by the loss of his 
 queen, wrote to the chief men in that country, de- 
 siring them to meet him at Norham, on the Eng- 
 lish side of the Tweed, on the 10th of May, 1291. 
 Hume adds, that the king, " qftvvy'mg with him a 
 great army, advanced to the frontiers." But this 
 statement is shewn by the existing records to be 
 utterly untrue. Edward, knowing that he was about 
 to meet all the nobles and chiefs of Scotland, who, 
 
 * Henry's Ilistori/, book iv., c. i. f Tytlcr's Scotland, vol. i., p. 84. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 181 
 
 in the existing state of things, would assuredly cofte 
 armed and well attended, issued writs to about fifty- 
 eight of his military tenants in the northern counties, 
 desiring them to meet him at Norham in the heghi- 
 ning of June. This was obviously a measure of 
 precaution. He went to the place of meeting with 
 the Scottish chiefs, attended by his ordinary retinue. 
 But, foreseeing that some troubles might arise, and 
 that it would be most inexpedient that the umpire or 
 superior lord should be powerless in the presence of 
 the Scottish barons, he took measures to have in 
 attendance, in about three weeks after the commence- 
 ment of the proceedings, a few thousand men, being 
 merely such a force as two or three counties could easily 
 raise. Hume again speaks of Edward's "powerful 
 army," and represents the Scottish barons as having 
 been "betrayed into a situation, in which it was 
 impossible for them to make any defence." But, of 
 any " powerful army" there is not the slightest trace 
 in history; and if Hume had consulted Rymer, he 
 would have seen, that among the fifty-eight military 
 tenants who were summoned to meet in June, there 
 appeared the names of John Baliol, Alexander Baliol, 
 John Comyn, and Robert Bruce, all of whom held 
 lands of Edward as English barons. Thus the Scot- 
 tish leaders, so far from any " betrayal," were fully 
 apprised several weeks before of Edward's plans, 
 and were quite at lib;|rty, if they thought fit, to adopt 
 measures for resistance^. 
 
 But we have only yet arrived at the 10th of May, 
 1291. The armed force which Edward had sum- 
 moned to meet in June had not yet appeared ; and 
 
 * See Appendix F. 
 
i82 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 the king, with his chief nobles and great law-ofiBcers, 
 met the Scottish barons without any means or pur- 
 poses of intimidation. 
 
 But the first question which naturally arose was, 
 as to the nature and character of the proceedings 
 which were about to commence, and as to Edward's 
 real position in the controversy. To render the de- 
 cisions which might be adopted valid and conclusive, 
 it was essential that this point should be settled at the 
 commencement. If the Scotch merely wished Ed- 
 ward's interposition as an elected umpire, they should 
 have been prepared with an agreement, signed by all 
 the contending parties, clothing him with this tempo- 
 rary authority, and binding themselves to submit to 
 his decision. Such had been the course taken in 
 England in 1264,when the disputes between Henry III. 
 and his barons were referred to the judgment of 
 Louis of France. But, in the present instance, no 
 Scottish writer has ever pretended that the barons 
 of Scotland had taken any such course, or had formed 
 any such plan. They simply " appeared." But this 
 "appearance" disposes of another objection, some- 
 times taken by the Scotch writers, — namely, " that no 
 national proposal had ever been made to Edward to un- 
 dertake the settlement of the question." It is diffi- 
 cult to understand how, in a state of civil war, the 
 nation could speak. But the fact is, that the general 
 attendance of all the great men of Scotland at Norham 
 disposes of all such objections. It has never been 
 disputed that Scotland was there present, as far as 
 Scotland could be present ; and it is an universal 
 rule, that the mere fact of appearance^ without protest, 
 terminates all such questions. 
 
 But what was the king of England's position in 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 183 
 
 that great assembly ? and in what capacity did the 
 Scottish barons appear before him ? On this im- 
 portant point, history is quite silent as to any acts or 
 declarations of the Scottish leaders. 
 
 It belonged, therefore, to the king to speak. He 
 at once told them, without the least reserve or delay, 
 by the mouth of Roger Brabazon, his chief justiciary, 
 " that the disturbances which had arisen, in conse- 
 quence of the late king's death, were grievous to him, 
 and that, in consequence thereof, and for the restora- 
 tion of peace, he had travelled a great distance, in 
 order, as lord paramount, to do justice to all." And 
 first, he asked them, in the most distinct manner, 
 whether they heartily recognized him as lord para- 
 mount of the kingdom of Scotland ? 
 
 This was, unquestionably, the most frank and 
 open way of proceeding ; and it was, also, rendered 
 necessary by the position of the question. It would 
 have been manifestly absurd for the king to have un- 
 dertaken the decision of the controversy, without 
 first having it distinctly settled and understood in 
 what capacity or character he was acting. 
 
 At the same time we must not shut our eyes to the 
 fact, that Edward, while he proposed to determine 
 equitably the succession to the crown of Scotland; 
 did also propose, at the same time, to decide another 
 important question. 
 
 Whether Scotland was, or was not, a fief of the 
 crown of England ; and whether the king of Scot- 
 land, when he did homage at Westminster, did it 
 for Scotland itself, or for some lauds in England, 
 had long been disputed points. When England was 
 strong and Scotland weak, as in 1174, then the 
 homage paid for Scotland itself was clear and unques- 
 
184 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 tionable. But when a weak sovereign ruled in Eng- 
 land, then the Scots were naturally contumacious. 
 This undecided and fluctuating state of things Edward 
 resolved to terminate ; and assuredly he is not open 
 to blame for so resolving. The great object he had 
 in view was a most noble and patriotic one. He 
 desired to bring the whole island of Great Britain 
 into a state of unity and harmony ; and thus to put 
 an end to those internecine wars which had often 
 weakened and wasted the three divisions of the land. 
 Mr. Sharon Turner, who is a severe judge of the whole 
 life of Edward, does him justice, and no more than 
 justice, at this point of his history. He says : — • 
 
 "Injustice to one of the greatest sovereigns that 
 has swayed the English sceptre, it is important to 
 remark that, although the incorporation of Scotland 
 (with England) became at last his determination, 
 there are not sufficient grounds to impeach his probity 
 with this plan before the conduct of the Scotch led 
 him to adopt it. All that he claimed at the outset 
 was, the feudal sovereignty of Scotland. But so had 
 the king of France been the feudal sovereign of Nor- 
 mandy and Glascony ; and yet the kings of England, 
 who did homage for these possessions, had enjoyed 
 the government of those countries with sufficient in- 
 dependence. There is no evidence that when Baliol 
 was crowned, the king of England projected to abolish 
 the Scottish royalty or parliament. To be the lord 
 paramount, the feudal sovereign of the whole island, 
 as the king of France had been of Normandy, Bre- 
 tagne, Flanders, and Aquitainc, while these provinces 
 were enjoying their independent hereditary govern- 
 ments, was the honor to which Edward aspired ; and 
 the great political object which he would have at- 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 185 
 
 tainecl by it would have been a termination of the 
 predatory tears icliich had ahcays desolated the borders 
 of the two kingdoms. It was a species of impiety and 
 perjury for the liegeman to malie war on his feudal 
 lord ; and it exposed him to the loss of life and ter- 
 ritory. Scotland becoming a royal fief of the English 
 crown, a new and sacred bond of amity was estab- 
 lished between the two countries. The facts, that 
 for four years Edward did nothing incompatible with 
 tlie continuance of the Scottish royalty, and that it was 
 the wilful hostility of Scotland itself which forced 
 him into the field against it, afford reasonable evidence 
 that the line which we have drawn was the limitation 
 of his ambition*." 
 
 Edward's object, then, was a truly patriotic one. 
 It was one in which the real interests of both 
 England and Scotland were deeply concerned. But 
 did he pursue a straightforward and honorable path, 
 or did he venture to " do evil that good might come?" 
 
 There is no ground for questioning the upright- 
 ness of his conduct. The homage of the Scottish 
 kings to the crown of England was a matter of gene- 
 ral notorietv ; and before he went to the conference 
 at Norham, Edward had directed his great lawvers 
 to look into the facts of the case. They had collected 
 a long array of proofs, the bulk of which were 
 merely monkish traditions, recorded in old chronicles. 
 But, together with these, there were some undoubted 
 facts, which proved a superiority asserted by England, 
 and admitted by Scotland, during several centuries 
 past. 
 
 And besides all this, the circumstances which were 
 
 * TiUTier's History of England, vol. v., p. 75. 
 
186 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 in Edward's own knoAvledge, all tended to the same 
 conclusion. Wliat meant the application made by 
 the Scotch to him while in Gascony, or the repeated 
 appeals to him since by the bishop of St. Andrew's, 
 by the seven earls of Scotland, by Robert Bruce, by 
 the earl of Mar, and others, all '■'■ appedlwg to the king 
 of England and his royal crown," if Scotland was as 
 independent of England as it was of France or of 
 Norway ? Sir Francis Palgrave has well observed, 
 that "we have now full evidence that the interpo- 
 sition of Edward was neither wanton nor aggressive, 
 and that it little deserved the terms by which it has 
 been described. Kings have hard measure meted out 
 to them by historians. Let the English monarch be 
 tried by the test and example of an English gentle- 
 man : — If, on the death of the copyhold tenant, all 
 the persons claiming the right of admission unite 
 in applying to the lord of the manor for a new grant, 
 will it be easy for him to doubt that he is the lawful 
 owner of the domain^?" 
 
 Such, then, was the first question opened at 
 Norham. It was, clearly, a necessary one ; for how 
 could Edward commence his duties as judge, or 
 arbiter, until he knew whether, and upon what 
 grounds, he was admitted by the contending parties 
 to occupy that position. Hence he said to them, 
 at the very outset, "1 come here as lord paramount; 
 — do yoa receive me in that character ?" 
 
 Their first reply seems to have been, that they 
 were not prepared to give an answer to such a ques- 
 tion ; and that they wished for time to deliberate. 
 The king expressed surprise that they should be uii- 
 
 * Palgrave's Documents, vol. i., p. 36. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 187 
 
 prepared to give an answer, since they ivere not 
 ignoi^ant of his intentions. We gather from t^iis 
 expression, that the king had made no secret of his 
 views or purposes ; and that there V\^as nothing 
 sudden or unexpected in the demand which he made. 
 Still, as they desired time to deliberate, he adjourned 
 the meeting to the next day ; and on their then appear- 
 ing still undecided, he gave them a further delay of 
 three weeks. 
 
 It is quite clear that this delay left to the Scottish 
 leaders the most entire liberty to choose any course 
 which they judged best. The most absurd charges 
 are brought against Edward, by modern Scotch his- 
 torians, of "fraud," of "surprise," and of bringing 
 the Scottish barons into a position in which they 
 could make no defence. But the baselessness of these 
 charges is quite evident. Edward, at this time, had 
 no military array ; he met the Scottish lords on 
 equal terms. He then dismissed them, to depart to 
 their own homes, and return in three weeks with their 
 answer. They knew, and had long known, that in 
 June the king would have around him a few thousand 
 men, to enforce any decision at which he might 
 arrive. But the delay which he had frankly con- 
 ceded to them, placed them on a level with him, even 
 as to power. Had they chosen to resist his preten- 
 sions, they were at liberty to collect their forces ; 
 and with these forces they might have returned to 
 the Tweed in June, replying to the king, " We do 
 not recognize you as our superior lord, but we are 
 willing to accept you as umpire." 
 
 The Scottish barons, however, took no such 
 course. Their real weakness lay in their own 
 jealousies and disunion. They allowed the three 
 
188 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 weeks to elapse, and returned to Norliam in the be- 
 ginning of June, prepared to acquiesce in Edward's 
 demand. 
 
 At this second great meeting, the king's chan- 
 cellor, Robert Burnel, was the chief spokesman. He 
 opened the business by stating, that as the king his 
 master had granted them a sufficient time to prepare 
 any objections which they might have to his claim of 
 superiority, and as they had produced none, the 
 king would now proceed, acting upon his right, 
 to do justice, as lord paramount, to all the claimants. 
 
 ^'The chancellor then turned to Robert Bruce, 
 and demanded whether he was content to acknowledge 
 Edward as lord paramount of Scotland, and willing 
 to receive judgment from him in that character; upon 
 which this baron expressly answered, that he recog- 
 nized him as such, and would abide by his decision. 
 The same question was then put to the other com- 
 petitors, all of whom returned the same answer. Sir 
 Thomas Randolph then stood up, and declared, that 
 John Baliol, lord of Glalloway, had mistaken the 
 day, but would appear on the morrow, which he did, 
 and then solemnly acknowledged the superiority of 
 the English king*." 
 
 The king himself then addressed the assembly. He 
 declared his intention to pronounce a speedy decision 
 in the controversy ; and, meanwhile, to maintain the 
 laws, and re-establish the tranquillity of the country. 
 The several claimants then affixed their signatures to 
 two important instruments, — the first, declaring their 
 consent to receive judgment from the king as lord 
 paramount ; and the second, delivering the land and 
 
 * Ty tier's History of Scotland, vol. i„ j). 88. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 181) 
 
 the castles of Scotland into Edward's hands, he 
 engaging to re-deliver them to the person who should 
 appear to be justly entitled. Then, a list of eighty 
 commissioners was formed, by the candidates them- 
 selves, to which list the king was to add twenty-four 
 names ; and these commissioners were to receive the 
 claims of the several candidates, and to report them 
 to the king. 
 
 On the 11th of June, the regents of Scotland 
 delivered the kingdom, and the governors of the cas- 
 tles gave up those fortresses, into the hands of king 
 Edward, who immediately re-delivered them to the 
 regents ; promising to give full possession to the 
 rightful claimant, so soon as the question as to the 
 succession should be decided. The guardians of the 
 kingdom the^ swore fealty to Edward, as lord para- 
 mount, and were followed in the same oath by Eobert 
 Bruce, by his son, by John Baliol, and by the earls 
 of Buchan, Mar, Athol, Angus, Lennox, Menteith, 
 and many other barons and knights. The peace of 
 king Edward, as lord paramount, was publicly pro- 
 claimed, and the assembly was adjourned until 
 the 2nd of August, then to meet at the town of 
 Berwick-upon-Tweed. On that day it again met; 
 and the claimants were invited to present their 
 petitions. These, which were twelve in number, were 
 read ; and the king recommended them to the atten- 
 tion of the commissioners ; enjoining them to give in 
 their report to him, at Berwick, on the 2nd of June, 
 in the next year. Edward was at that time called to 
 England by the illness of his mother, who was then 
 on her death-bed. He had also the disagreeable task 
 before him, of suppressing a violent feud which had 
 broken out between the earls of Hereford and 
 
190 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. l^HE ARBITRATION. 
 
 Gloucester. He probably also anticipated, that the 
 investigation of the claims of so many as twelve 
 candidates, by a large body of commissioners, would 
 necessarily occupy much time. On these grounds 
 he postponed the decision until the following sum- 
 mer, and soon took his departure for England. 
 
 In June J 292, the commissioners assembled, the 
 king and all the claimants being present. It probably 
 now began to be fully understood, that the question 
 must lie between Bruce, who was the son of Isabella, 
 the second daughter of David, earl of Huntiugdon, 
 and Baliol, who was the grandson of David's eldest 
 daughter. Some difficulties arising, the king desired 
 further information to be obtained ; and adjourned 
 the further hearino; until the 15th of October. On 
 that day all parties again met, and the king proposed 
 to the commissioners two questions : first, by what 
 laws or customs the judgment ought to be regulated ? 
 and, secondly, was the kingdom of Scotland to be 
 regarded as a common fief, and the succession to be 
 regulated by the same principles which were applicable 
 to earldoms and baronies? The commissioners re- 
 plied, that the laws and usages of the tw'o kingdoms 
 must rule the question ; but if none existed to regulate 
 the case, the king must make a new law for a new 
 emergency ; and that the succession must be decided 
 in the same manner as the succession to earldoms, 
 baronies, and other indivisible inheritances. 
 
 The claimants were then called upon, and each 
 endeavoured to maintain his ow^n right. The language 
 used by John Baliol, who ultinuxtely obtained the 
 kingdom, is worthy of notice. He urged, " that tho 
 claimants were in the court of the lord paramount, of 
 whose ancestors, from time immemorial, the realm of 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. — THE ARBITRATION. 191 
 
 Scotland was held hj liomage ; and that the king of 
 England must give judgment in this case as in the 
 case of other tenements held of the crown, looking 
 to the laws and established usages of his kingdom^." 
 
 The king then required of his great council a final 
 answer to this question : '• By the laws and customs 
 of both kingdoms, ought the issue of an elder sister, 
 but more remote by one degree, to exclude the issue 
 of a younger sister, although one degree nearer ?" 
 The council replied, that the issue of the eldest sister 
 must be preferred. Another adjournment then took 
 place, until the 6th of November. On that day the 
 king declared his judgment, that Bruce's right must 
 yield to the superior claim of Baliol. Whereupon a 
 new question was raised : John de Hastings, de- 
 scended from the (/iird daughter of David earl of 
 Huntingdon, alleged that the kingdom of Scotland 
 was partible, and ought to be divided among the de- 
 scendants of the three daughters. Bruce followed, 
 maintainino- the same view ; and the kinoj referred 
 the question to his council, — "Is the kingdom of 
 Scotland divisible ; or are its escheats and its revenues 
 divisible?" The council replied, that neither could 
 be divided. One more adjournment then took place, 
 to the 17th of November, when all parties were 
 commanded again to meet, in the castle of Berwick- 
 on-Tweed. 
 
 " On that great and important day, the council and 
 parliament of England, with the nobiiitj'of both coun- 
 tries, being met, and the various competitors appearing, 
 the king solemnly decreed, ' That the kingdom of Scot- 
 land, being indivisible, and the king of England being 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 96. 
 
192 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. THE ARBITRATION. 
 
 bound to judge of tlie rights of his subjects according 
 to the laws and usages of the people over whom he 
 reigns, by which laws the more remote in degree of 
 the first line of descent is preferable to the nearer in 
 degree of the second ; therefore, John Baliol ought 
 to have seizin of the kingdom of Scotland, with re- 
 servation always of the right of the king of England, 
 and of his heirs, when they shall think proper to 
 assert it.' 
 
 " After having delivered judgment, Edward ex- 
 horted Baliol to be careful in the government of his 
 people, lest, by giving any just cause of complaint, 
 he should call down upon himself an interference of 
 the lord paramount. He then commanded the re- 
 gents to give him seizin of his kingdom, and directed 
 orders to the governors of the castles throughout 
 Scotland to deliver them into the hands of Baliol. 
 The great seal of Scotland was then broken into four 
 parts, and the pieces ordered to be deposited in the 
 treasury of the king of England *. " 
 
 On the following day, Baliol, in the castle of 
 Norham, swore fealty to Edward, who gave a com- 
 mission to John St. John to proceed to the coronation 
 of the new king. This ceremony took place on St. 
 Andrew's day ; and towards the end of December the 
 king of Scotland visited Edward in England, and 
 paid, homage to him at Newcastle-on-Tyne. 
 
 So ended this great transaction, and even Ilume 
 is obliged to admit, that " the conduct of Edward, 
 both in the deliberate solemnity of the proceedings, 
 and in the justice of the award, was so far unex- 
 ceptionable.'' Other Scotch w^riters, however, have 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 100. 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.— THE .\EBITRATION. 193 
 
 endeavoured to impeach Edward's honor in this 
 affair on two grounds : They have alleged that he 
 would have decided in Bruce' s favor, if Bruce would 
 have consented to acknowledge his feudal superiority ; 
 and they have surmised, that he gave the preference 
 to Baliol as being mentally the weaker of the two 
 candidates, and therefore the fitter for his purpose. 
 
 The first of these fictions is sufficiently refuted by 
 Hume's own statement, that " Bruce was the first that 
 acknowledged Edward's right of superiority over 
 Scotland ; for even in his petition, in which he set 
 forth his claim to the crown, he applied to him as 
 liege lord of the kingdom, a step which was not taken 
 by any other of the competitors." So far, then, as 
 submission to Edward's claims could merit his favor, 
 Bruce had gone farther than Baliol or any of his 
 other rivals. And the supposition that Edward's 
 preference for Baliol was dictated by selfish motives, 
 is equally opposed to the known facts of the case. 
 Bruce and Baliol were both English barons, as well 
 as lords in Scotland ; but Bruce was the more Eng- 
 lish of the two. He, the competitor, had for many 
 years sat as a judge in Westminster Hall. His son, 
 the earl of Carrick, had accompanied Edward in his 
 expedition to Palestine; and in Rymer, under the 
 date of 1281, we find the following letter : — 
 
 *'The king, to Bonrunonio de Luk-, et sancto 
 Merc' de Luk, greeting : Whereas our beloved Ro- 
 bert de Brus, earl of Carrick, is in present need of 
 money, we request you that you will cause to be 
 advanced or lent to the said earl' or his attorney, for 
 
 * De Luc or De Luke was a Florentine merchant or banker, 
 and collector of the Customs. 
 
 O 
 
194 SCOTTISH AFFAIES.— THE ARBITEATION. 
 
 his occasion, forty pounds, and we will cause them 
 to be repaid to j^ou. And when you have lent to 
 him the aforesaid money, you shall take from him his 
 letters patent, testifying his receipt of the same. 
 Witness our hand. Windsor, 10th September, 12Si*." 
 
 So far, therefore, as we can judge at this distance 
 of time, we should be inclined to think that the 
 king's preference was for Bruce, but that his sense of 
 justice compelled him to give judgment in Baliol's 
 favor. No mental weakness, supposed to exist in 
 Baliol, 'could be more favorable to Edward's views 
 than the personal friendship of Bruce and his son. 
 
 Our English king, then, had preserved his in- 
 tegrity throughout this whole transaction. If any 
 sinister or concealed purposes had been entertained 
 by him, opportunities of furthering them had not 
 been wanting. If the subjugation and annexation of 
 Scotland had been then in his mind, the unwise proposal 
 of some of the competitors, — to divide the kingdom 
 into three, — offered him a signal opportunity of ad- 
 vancing his plans. Hume admits, that " his interests 
 seemed to require the partition of Scotland." Yet 
 he promptly rejected the proposal. Rapin, another 
 historian who is by no means partial to Edward, 
 admits his purity in these transactions. He says, 
 " It appears from Edward's whole conduct, that his 
 intent at first was not to become master of Scotland, 
 but only to render that kingdom dependent on Eng- 
 land, in which he did but follow the steps of most of 
 his predecessors." " If he had designed a conquest, 
 he might have found pretences to place English 
 
 * Eymer's Fcedera, vol. ii., p. 597. This, probably, is one of the 
 earliest instances we have, of an English king's cheqiw iqion his 
 banker. ' " 
 
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.— THE ARBITRATION. 195 
 
 governors and garrisons in the fortresses that were 
 put into his hands ; or by acceding to the demand 
 for the partition of the kingdom, he might have so 
 weakened it as to render its wretchedness and ulti- 
 mate fall inevitable." 
 
 There remains, therefore, no other charge against 
 Edward, even from those most inimical to him, but 
 that of his having used this occasion to establish 
 what he deemed the rights of the English crown. 
 This Hume terms "iniquitous." But let it be 
 remembered, that this measure, if successful, in- 
 volved consequences of the most beneficial kind, 
 alike to both kingdoms. Chiefl}', it would have ter- 
 minated " those predatory wars which had so often 
 desolated the borders of the two kingdoms." And the 
 opportunity offered to Edward of accomplishing this 
 great work, must have seemed one which it would be 
 criminal to neglect. Long before he had approached 
 Scotland, its chief men directed to him many appli- 
 cations, in which they treated him as their superior 
 lord. He wa^ sensible of the prodigious advantages 
 which would result from any scheme which rendered 
 this state of things permanent. He therefore ac- 
 cepted that which the Scotch seemed eager to offer. 
 At their request he assumed the place and the func- 
 tions which they tendered. Meeting the assembled 
 barons of Scotland, he frankly and explicitly stated 
 his views. Allowing them an abundant space for 
 deliberation, he again proposed the question. And 
 then, without a dissentient voice, Scotland accepted 
 him as her superior lord. That she, or that some 
 of her barons, afterwards repented of their deed, 
 and wished to retract it, occasioned many calam- 
 ities to both countries. In fact, this unfaithfulness 
 
 o3 
 
196 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.— THE AEBITEATION. 
 
 threw the two realms back into that condition of 
 enmity, from which it had been Edward's aim to 
 rescue them. It led to the sacrifice of hundreds of 
 thousands of lives, and to the long postponement 
 of that union which, after all, was inevitable. But, 
 for all this, it remains indisputable that Edward's aim 
 was a noble and patriotic one ; and that the means 
 he employed were direct, straightforward, and suit- 
 able to the occasion. 
 
CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. 
 
 ENGLISH AFFAIKS.— TROUBLES WITH FEANCE.— 
 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 A.D. 1292—1296. 
 
 When the king, in August 1291, adjourned the 
 Scottish question at Berwick until June 1292, his 
 most urgent reason for thus suspending the sittings 
 and leaving Scotland, was, the serious illness of his 
 mother, queen Eleanor of Provence, who died about 
 the end of that summer, at Ambresbury in Wilt- 
 shire ; and at whose funeral he was present, early in 
 September, attended by a great assembly of prelates 
 and nobles, especially convened for that ceremony. 
 
 But there was another matter which still more 
 imperatively demanded the king's attention. Two of 
 the chief nobles of the kingdom, Gilbert earl of 
 Gloucester, and Humphrey earl of Hereford, had 
 quarrelled, and had gone to the extremity of open 
 war. The earl of Gloucester was the king's son-in- 
 law. Presuming, probably, upon this, and confident 
 of his power, he had encroached upon the possessions 
 of the earl of Hereford, and had begun to build a 
 castle on the lands belonging to this earl. Bitter 
 contentions and open violence naturally followed ; 
 and the king, hearing of the quarrel, had been obliged 
 to send to the two earls his commands, reserving the 
 hearing of the matter for his own court ; but enjoin- 
 
V 
 
 198 ENGLISH AFFAIES. 
 
 ing, meanwhile, an abstinence from all violent pro- 
 ceedings. But the quarrel had gone too far to be 
 so arrested. The followers of the two earls were 
 everywhere at enmity. Houses were burnt, churches 
 demolished, and many persons were killed. Hence, 
 without any delay, on the very morning after the 
 funeral of his mother, the king sat in council at 
 Ambresbury, whither a large assembly of the nobles 
 had come for the religious ceremony, and there called 
 the two earls before him. 
 
 The offence they had committed was of the highest 
 gravity. As the king's lieutenants, each in his own 
 district, their first duty was "to keep the king's 
 peace," and to make all other persons keep it. In- 
 stead of which, disregarding the authority of the 
 law, they had plunged into open violence, and thus, 
 as far as in them lay, had introduced a state of 
 rapine and utter confusion. 
 
 Gloucester, now brought into the presence of law, 
 supported by power, put forward some pleas in justi- 
 fication, which required time for their establishment 
 or rejection. The king, therefore, directed the neces- 
 sary inquiries to be made, and adjourned the further 
 hearing until January 7th, 1292. On that day it 
 was adjudged by the king's council at Westminster, 
 — the king himself pronouncing the sentence, — that 
 the two earls were both guilty ; that the liberties of 
 Glamorgan and Brecknock should be forfeited for 
 their respective lives ; and that they themselves 
 should be committed to prison during tlie king's plea- 
 sure. The authority of the law was thus vindicated, 
 and two of the greatest nobles in the realm were 
 shewn to be subject to it. After a time the relaxa- 
 tion which was implied in the terms of the sentence 
 
TKOUBLES WITH FEANCE. 199 
 
 took place. The earls were set at liberty, and their 
 forfeitures were commuted for fines proportioned to 
 their respective criminality. Hereford was ordered 
 to pay 1,000 marks, which was equal to about 
 £10,000 of our present money. But Grloucester, who 
 doubtless had been the aggressor, and who probably 
 presumed on his connexion with the crown, was sub- 
 jected to a fine of 10,000 marks, which, according to 
 our present values, would be equal to £100,000 ! 
 
 During the summer and autumn of 1292, as we 
 have already seen, Edward was occupied with the 
 affairs of Scotland. Early in 1293 he returned to 
 England, and shortly afterwards a petty quarrel be- 
 tween two seamen on the coast of Gascony gave rise 
 to a war, wholly unprovoked on Edward's part, but 
 which harassed him in a variety of ways during the 
 next five years. 
 
 A ship from Normandy and an English vessel 
 had sent their boats ashore for water, near Bayonne, 
 and a scuffle arose as to the preference, in which one 
 of the Normans was killed. Irritated at their defeat, 
 the Normans carried their complaints to the French 
 king, who, most rashly and unwisely, bade them 
 avenge themselves. So encouraged, the Normans 
 boarded an English ship in the channel, and hanged 
 up one of the sailors at the j^ard-arm as a reprisal for 
 the loss of their comrade at Bayonne. But the sailors 
 of the Cinque ports were not likely to submit to such 
 a wrong ; new encounters soon followed, and the 
 channel quickly became one extensive scene of vio- 
 lence and unauthorized warfare. Ships were captured 
 and recaptured, and homicides of all kinds were fre- 
 quent. Edward quickly sent the earl of Lincoln to 
 the court of France, to desire that some means might 
 
200 TROUBLES WLTU FRANCE. 
 
 be found to put a stop to these disorders ; but Philip 
 was a haughty prince, and disliked to make any 
 admission of his error. But while the earl waited for 
 his answer, the warfare on the coast came to its 
 height. A fleet of about two hundred French ships, 
 laden with wine, was met with by some sixty or 
 eighty vessels from the Cinque ports ; and, a collision 
 taking place, the French fleet was nearly destroyed, 
 and several thousands of the seamen killed or thrown 
 overboard. The news soon found its way to the 
 French court, and Philip was exceedingly enraged ; 
 the more so, doubtless, inasmuch as he could not but 
 feel conscious that the whole mischief had sprung 
 from his own hasty and injudicious counsel. But 
 his wounded pride blinded his reason. He sent an 
 angry message to Edward, demanding immediate 
 compensation. Edward sent over the bishop of 
 London to represent, first, that he had his own courts, 
 in which he would see justice done at all times ; 
 secondly, that he was ready to agree to an arbitra- 
 tion, which should decide the whole question ; or, 
 thirdly, he would meet the king of France himself, if 
 any difficulty arose about a settlement. But Philip 
 was too angry to listen to any reasonable proposals. 
 The bishop had to leave the French court without an 
 answer ; the English students found it prudent to 
 quit the university of Paris ; and generally, through- 
 out France, the English travellers and residents saw 
 themselves in circumstances of peril. Commerce 
 was entirely interrupted, and all things were falling 
 into confusion. At last Philip cited Edward himself 
 to appear before him in Paris, there to answer sun- 
 dry charges. The king sent his brother Edmund, 
 who had married the mother of the queen of France. 
 
TEOUBLES WITH FRANCE. 201 
 
 He also took the precaution to send an able com- 
 mander, St. John, into Gascony, with instructions to 
 put that province into a state of defence. 
 
 Edmund was received at Paris with apparent 
 kindness, and the queen and the queen-dowager ex- 
 pressed great desire for the restoration of peace. But 
 they represented to him that Philip was chiefly en- 
 raged at some insults which he had received from the 
 Gascons ; and that, if Edward would give him tempo- 
 rary possession of that province, so as to vindicate 
 his honor in the sight of that people, he would engage 
 to restore it immediately, and would accept a very 
 easy satisfaction for all other injuries. This sort of 
 formal and temporary possession, given to the supe- 
 rior lord, was not an uncommon thing in those days. 
 We have already seen that Edward, in the Scottish 
 arbitration, had the kingdom and its castles put into 
 his hands, on his engaging to restore them to the 
 rightful owner : and he did so restore them. In the 
 present case he does not seem to have supposed it 
 possible that two crowned queens could be lending 
 themselves to a fraud. Therefore, says Hume, " he 
 sent his brother orders to sign and execute the treaty 
 with the two queens. Philip solemnly promised to 
 execute his part of it ; and the king's citation to ap- 
 pear in the court of France was accordingly recalled. 
 But the French monarch was no sooner put into pos- 
 session of Gascony, than the citation was renewed ; 
 Edward was condemned for non-appearance ; and the 
 province, by a formal sentence, was declared to be 
 forfeited and annexed to the crown ^." 
 
 * Hume adds, very strangely, " Edward had thus fallen into 
 a like snare with that which he himself had spread for the Scots." 
 What " like snare? " Scotland had been placed in his hands, on 
 
202 TROUBLES WITH FEANCE. 
 
 To a prince like Edward, this must have been a 
 double mortification. He was himself the very soul 
 of honor ; and to find his equals and associates 
 capable of fraud and deceit must have been grievous 
 to him. He also prided himself on maintaining to 
 the full all the rights and honors of the crown which 
 he wore ; and hence, to be robbed of a noble province 
 by mere chicanery and falsehood, would be doubly 
 vexatious. But to this loss he never for a moment 
 submitted, nor did he cease his efi'orts till he finally 
 regained that territory for the British crown. 
 
 In the summer of 1294, he prepared a large arma- 
 ment for the recovery of the province ; and appealed 
 to the clergy at Winchester for a liberal aid, which 
 was readily granted him. A parliament held in No- 
 vember gave him a tenth, which was voted and paid 
 with more than ordinary readiness ; and Edward was 
 preparing to lead his forces in person, when a new 
 peril called for his presence in another direction. The 
 Welsh had felt aggrieved, a year or two before, by 
 the levy of a fifteenth, granted by parliament, and 
 collected by English officers in a manner to which 
 they were, as yet, unaccustomed. Hearing now that 
 the king was about to sail for Gascony, they deemed 
 it a favorable juncture for an attempt to throw off 
 the English yoke. It was always their wont to act 
 by a sudden outbreak. Accordingly, taking advan- 
 tage of a fair at Carnarvon, a rendezvous was ap- 
 pointed, and the leaders succeeded in surprising the 
 castle, and in putting all the English to the sword. 
 A small force, under the earls of Lancaster and 
 
 his promise to restore it ; wliich promise he kept. Gascony was 
 placed in the hands of Philip, on a similar promise ; hut that pro- 
 mise was broken. Instead of likeness, here is utter dissimilarity. 
 
TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 203 
 
 Lincoln, advancing into Denbighshire, was defeated 
 by the Welsh ; and on the whole, Edward felt that it 
 would be unwise to leave England with such a sore 
 unhealed. 
 
 He therefore proceeded in November into Wales, 
 having placed the expedition for Gascony under the 
 orders of the earl of Richmond, who had with him 
 de Yere, St. John, and other officers of distinction. 
 The king kept his Christmas at Conway ; but shortly 
 afterwards, attempting to penetrate further in spite of 
 the season, he was placed, for a short time, in a posi- 
 tion of difficulty and peril. He had led the way, 
 with the vanguard, over a mountain-stream, which, 
 rising suddenly, became impassable, and thus divided 
 the few men who were with the king from the rest of 
 the army, while the baggage and provisions were 
 still in the rear. Thus separated from the main 
 body of his forces, the king was blockaded by the 
 Welsh, and found his little party nearly destitute of 
 provisions. There was not bread enough for their 
 wants, and water mixed with honey was the only 
 drink that remained to them. A single keg of wine 
 was discovered, which the soldiers naturally proposed 
 to reserve for the king's use. But Edward rejected 
 the thought, exclaiming, " No ; in a case of need, all 
 things should be in common ; and we will all fare 
 alike, till God shall give us release. I, who have led 
 you into this difficulty, will know no preference." 
 Happily, the waters soon began to subside ; the rest 
 of the army found means to join the king ; and the 
 Welsh were quickly put to flight*. 
 
 We shall see the king, a few years later, in his 
 
 • Walter Hemingford. 
 
204 TROUBLES WITH FEANCE. 
 
 sixtieth year, sleeping, the night before the battle 
 of Falkirk, on the open heath, with his shield for 
 his pillow, and his horse for his companion. And 
 doubtless it was this soldierly frankness and hardi- 
 hood, joined with his knightly fame, and his never- 
 failing success, which gave him such remarkable 
 command over his soldiers, and made a campaign 
 under his leadership so attractive and popular a 
 duty. 
 
 This Welsh insurrection did not long detain the 
 king. The leaders of the outbreak, Morgan and 
 Madoc, were soon reduced to difficulties, and threw 
 themselves upon Edward's mercy. Madoc was con- 
 fined, for a time, in the Tower of London ; — of 
 Morgan we only hear, that " he received mercy*." 
 
 Meanwhile, the hostilities between the Normans 
 and the people of the Cinque ports raged with 
 augmented fury. The English commanded the chan- 
 nel, landed where they pleased in Normandy, and 
 ravaged the towns and villages near the coast. They 
 took and burnt Cherbourg. Philip equipped a fleet 
 of three hundred ships, and this large force suc- 
 ceeded, for a time, in doing some injury to the Kentish 
 coast. But the French had no great cause for tri- 
 umph. The Chronicle of London, now in the British 
 Museum, briefly records, under date of this year, 
 1294, that ''The Normauns came to Dovorre, and 
 brent a gret part of the towun ; hut they were sclayn 
 every moders son; — ther eschapid none^ One French 
 ship, with three hundred soldiers on board, grounded 
 near Hythe, and fell into the hands of the Kentish 
 men, ship and crew. 
 
 • Matthew of Westminster. 
 
TEOUBLES WITH FEANCE. 205 
 
 One part of Philip's plan failed through the de- 
 tection of one of his agents. One Thomas de Turber- 
 ville, a knight of some note in Glamorganshire, being 
 taken prisoner by the French, offered his services to 
 Philip ; holding out large expectations of aid he 
 could render to the invaders. He represented, that 
 if released, he could obtain from Edward the com- 
 mand of one of the Cinque ports ; and could thus 
 give the French fleet and forces a secure landing- 
 place. He was accordingly permitted to return ; and 
 began to use his best endeavours to carry his plans 
 into effect. But probably his anxiety to be employed 
 on the Kentish coast awakened suspicion : — his cor- 
 respondence was intercepted; and letters, developing 
 his purposes, were seized. He was brought to trial ; 
 the evidence was conclusive, and he received sentence 
 of death. And here we see what the real punish- 
 ment for high treason at this time was. His guilt 
 was more plain and more heinous than that of the 
 Jesuit priests, who, in Elizabeth's reign, conspired 
 against her life and government, in obedience to their 
 spiritual head at Rome. They were, not once or 
 twice, but in considerable numbers, hanged, disem- 
 bowelled, beheaded, and quartered. But this Turber- 
 ville, who had conspired, not against his sovereign 
 only, but against his own people, whom he was 
 williog to sell to a foreign invader, received the 
 milder sentence of being drawn to the gallows on 
 a hide or hurdle, there to be hanged, and left hanging 
 in chains. In a word, the punishment actually in- 
 flicted in Edward's time for the crime of high treason, 
 was merely that which, in our own time, has been 
 inflicted for piracy. And yet many writers have 
 represented, again and again, that the terrible punish- 
 
206 TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 
 
 ment for high treason, which was inflicted for several 
 centuries in England, and which remained on our 
 statute book until the days of Mackintosh and 
 Eomilly, was devised and appropriated to that crime 
 in Edward's reign ! 
 
 Philip's wrath, however, grew with his defeats ; 
 and he began to form confederacies with other 
 powers, such as Norway and Scotland, for the inva- 
 sion and humiliation of England. And this brings 
 us to the commencement of the fearful story of the 
 wars between England and Scotland, which, in the 
 year 1295 began to be contemplated, and in 1296 
 actually broke out. These wars lasted, in the days 
 of Edward I. and II., for more than twenty years. 
 They again and again broke out, in subsequent 
 reigns, until the union of the two kingdoms finally 
 terminated them. The immediate question before us 
 is, With whom did they originate ? 
 
 Hume, and several other writers, unhesitatingly 
 assume, that these wars were intentionally provoked 
 by Edward, and formed a part of his plan. Hume 
 says, — '' His intention plainly was, to enrage Baliol 
 by indignities, to engage him in rebellion, and so to 
 assume the dominion of the state, as the punishment 
 of his treason and felony." But upon the very face 
 of the matter, this supposition is manifestly absurd. 
 The war with France had broken out before Edward 
 took any hostile measures against Scotland. The 
 Scottish quarrel evidently occurred at the most in- 
 convenient of all periods ; and could never have been 
 desired or sought by him at that most inopportune 
 moment. 
 
 But, in proof that Edward desired to provoke the 
 Scotch to resistance, it is said, that " he encouraged 
 
WAE IN SCOTLAND. 207 
 
 all appeals to England ; required kin !; John, by 
 six different summonses, to come to London," and 
 in this way, " provoked liim to vindicate his liberty." 
 
 St ange to say, none of the old Scottish writers 
 thus defend, or account for, Baliol's rebellion. Bar- 
 bour, the earliest of them, has not a word of this 
 story; Wj^ntoun speaks only of one appeal, — that of 
 Macduff, the earl of Fife ; Buchanan follows him ; and 
 even Mr. Tytler, the latest and best of all the Scotch 
 historians, rests his case solely upon this appeal of 
 the earl of Fife. No one pretends that Baliol ap- 
 peared to any other appeal. The citations alluded to 
 must have been more legal formalities. It was the 
 conduct of Edward on Macduff's appeal, which con- 
 stituted the real grievance. Mr. Sharon Turner, who 
 reviews the whole case with an impartial and a 
 lawyer-like eye, says, — " Edward received an appeal 
 against Baliol's judgment preferred by a Scotchman 
 to himself, as lord paramount, and summoned Baliol 
 to his parliament to answer it, and expressed dis- 
 pleasure when he attempted to dispute his homage ; 
 hut this, between 1292 and 1296, was the extent of 
 his adverse conduct. Two other cases, mentioned 
 by lord Hailes, were, the one, a complaint against 
 Edward's own officers; the other, an illegal im- 
 prisonment of his officers*." 
 
 Beyond this contention about appeals, there was 
 no quarrel between Baliol and Edward. Before any 
 judgment was pronounced, Baliol asked for time to 
 consult his parliament. It was granted ; adjourn- 
 ment after adjournment followed ; and, in fact, no 
 judgment ever was pronounced. Meanwhile, Baliol's 
 
 * Turner's History of England, vol. v., p. 75. 
 
208 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 claim to tlie honors and lands of Tyndale, Penrith, 
 and Sowerby, with a third part of the honor of 
 Huntingdon, was allowed, and he was generously 
 exempted from a payment of £3,000 due from the 
 estates of his mother*. 
 
 The quarrel with Scotland, then, which produced 
 such terrible results, may be said to have taken its 
 rise, formally, from Edward's assertion of the right 
 of receiving appeals. But was this any extravagant 
 or inordinate pretension on his part ? 
 
 On the contrary, it was an essential point of his 
 prerogatives as lord paramount; and it was known 
 to be so, by all parties, from the beginning. For 
 nearly seven years past the Scotch had been appeal- 
 ing to him. They had sent after him to Gascony, in 
 1286, to know what course they should take on their 
 king's death. In 1290, they had again applied to 
 him, in the most urgent manner, to come and decide 
 between the opposing claims of the competitors for 
 the crown. At their request he met the nobles of 
 Scotland, and at once told them, " I come as lord 
 paramount; do you recognize me as such?" After 
 some delay, and therefore without hurry or precipita- 
 tion, he was so recognized. And when he had de- 
 cided the question in Baliol's favor, he again distinctly 
 warned him of their mutual relations ; counselling 
 him ^' to be careful in the government of his people, 
 lest by giving any just cause of complaint, he should 
 call down the interference of the lord paramount." 
 Thus there never was the least concealment or re- 
 serve on Edward's part. He stated, from the first, 
 what he conceived to be his rights, and he found 
 
 • Lingai'd's Ilistorij, vol. ii., p. 540. 
 
WAE IN SCOTLAND. 209 
 
 nothing but acquiescence on the part of the Scotch. 
 And it was several weeks after this explicit declara- 
 tion, that Baliol came to him at Newcastle and took 
 the oath of homage, avowing himself Edward's 
 "liegeman for the kingdom of Scotland and all its 
 appurtenances." 
 
 All questions being thus decided between the 
 two, how was Edward to act when the earl of Fife, 
 in the very next year, lodged an appeal against one of 
 Baliol's decisions ? To refuse to entertain it would 
 be to abdicate his functions as lord paramount. Such 
 appeals were not unusual, or even of rare occurrence. 
 Mr. Tytler himself says, — " Edward, who was a vassal 
 of the king of France for the duchy of Aquitaine, 
 became involved with his lord superior in a quarrel 
 similar to that between himself and Baliol. Philip 
 summoned Edward to appear in his court at Paris, 
 and there to answer, as his vassal, for the injuries 
 which he had committed*." 
 
 But it may be replied, that Edward, when so 
 summoned, refused to go, and preferred to declare 
 war against the king of France ; and that the same 
 right must be conceded to Baliol. Unquestionably, 
 the same right, if the cases were the same. But all 
 turns, if we are discussing the moral aspects of the 
 question, on the respective grounds of quarrel. 
 
 Edward, as all historians agree, had been griev- 
 ously wronged by Philip, and was entitled, and in 
 fact was bound, to demand redress for these wrongs. 
 In his message to the king of France, declaring war 
 against him, he thus states the grounds of his resist- 
 ance and hostility : — 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 108. 
 
 P 
 
210 WAE IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 "The king of England did you homage condition- 
 ally ; namely, according to the form of the peace 
 made between your ancestors and his, which peace 
 you have not kept. Moreover, that all differences 
 between your subjects and his might be ended, a 
 treaty was made between you and the lord Edmund 
 his brother, containing certain articles which you 
 have not performed. And after that, he hath required 
 of you, three several times, to restore his land of 
 Guienne, and to deliver those of his subjects whom 
 you detain in prison, all which you have refused. 
 Wherefore it seems to him, that you no longer count 
 him your vassal, and accordingly he refuses to be so 
 for the future." 
 
 Now no one disputes, that as Philip had sinned 
 against Edward, so it was quite possible that Edward 
 might have sinned against Baliol. But what are the 
 grievances alleged ? There is nothing that deserves 
 the name : for the reception of Macduff's appeal was, 
 on Edward's part, both a right and a duty. Yet this 
 reception constitutes the whole case against him ; and 
 upon this ground alone, the Scotch threw all their 
 oaths to the winds, and resolved upon war. 
 
 In December 1292, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, John 
 Baliol, after full warning of the intent and meaning 
 of the homage, had taken the following oath : — 
 
 '' My lord, sir Edward, king of England, sovereign 
 lord of the realm of Scotland, I, John Baliol, king of 
 Scotland, become your liegeman for the kingdom of 
 Scotland, and all its appurtenances and appendages, 
 which kingdom I hold, and ought of right and claim 
 to hold by inheritance, for myself and my heirs, 
 kings of Scotland, of you and your heirs, kings of 
 England And faith and loyalty I will bear to 
 
WAE IN SCOTLAND. 211 
 
 you and your heirs, kings of England, of life and 
 limb, and earthly honor, against all men that may live 
 and die*." 
 
 Such was Ealiol's oath, deliberately taken, with a 
 full knowledge of its' meaning, in December 1292. 
 The like oath was also taken by all the nobles of 
 Scotland. Yet, in less than three years after, finding 
 Edward involved in a war with France, they eagerly 
 seized the opportunity of freeing themselves from all 
 these obligations. They sent an embassy to France, 
 and entered into a treaty, engaging to assist Philip 
 by invading England ! Such was the first step in the 
 long and sanguinary Scottish wars. Mr. Sharon 
 Turner justly places these wars to the account of the 
 Scotch ; remarking that, — 
 
 " For four years Edward did nothing incompatible 
 with the continuance of the Scottish royalty ; and it 
 was the wilful hostility of Scotland which forced him 
 into the field. From 1292 to 129 6, though he received 
 an appeal against Ealiol's judgment, and summoned 
 Baliol to his parliament to answer it," "yet this was 
 the extent of his adverse conduct. And so far was 
 Edward's behaviour from being revolting to Scottish 
 feeling, that Bruce, the competitor of Baliol, having 
 died, his family desired Edward to receive its homage, 
 and willingly performed itf." 
 
 Edward, then, had done nothing to call forth the 
 hostility of Scotland ; in fact, he had simply carried 
 out his own professions and pretensions, and expected 
 the Scotch to do the same. Being now involved, 
 by no fault of his own, in a war with France, he 
 
 * R}Tner, vol. ii., p. 590. 
 
 \ Turner's History of England, vol. i., p. 76. 
 
 p3 
 
212 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 called upon Baliol, and tlie other Scottisli nobles wlio 
 had sworn fealty to him, to give him their aid against 
 the hostility of the French. This aid every leading 
 man in Scotland had solemnly sworn to render ; yet, 
 instead of keeping their oaths, the Scottish barons 
 instantly violated them in the most direct and flagrant 
 manner. They had sworn "to bear faith and loyalty 
 to Edward, against all men that may live or die ;" 
 instead of which they deliberately contracted with 
 Philip to raise an army and to fall upon England, so 
 as to assist the French king's designs. What share 
 of this treason and perfidy ought to be allotted to 
 Baliol it is diflBcult to determine. The whole power in 
 Scotland seems to have been taken out of the king's 
 hands, and usurped by a faction of the nobles ; who 
 at first dictated to the king, and at last dethroned 
 him. They assembled a council or parliament at 
 Scone, at which they resolved to dismiss all En- 
 glishmen who were in any public employments ; to 
 seize upon all lands in Scotland which belonged to 
 Englishmen ; and even to deprive of their estates in 
 Scotland those Scotchmen who remained faithful to 
 Edward. " In this way Robert Bruce lost his lordship 
 of Annandale. It was given to John Comyn, earl 
 of Buchan, who instantly assumed the rights of 
 a proprietor, and took possession of Lochmaben 
 Castle*." 
 
 But the ruling faction was not even content with 
 wholesale confiscation. Mr. Tytler continues, — " The 
 party who then ruled in the Scottish parliament, 
 dreading a submission on the part of their king, 
 secluded him from all power, conjitied him in a mouu- 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, p. 110.- 
 
WAK IN SCOTLAND. 213 
 
 tain fortress, and placed the management of affairs in 
 the hands of twelve of the leading nobles." 
 
 Bruce the competitor, and formerly an English 
 judge, had lately died. His son, the earl of Carrick, 
 whom we recently saw styled, in one of Edward's 
 letters, " our beloved Robert Bruce," and who was, 
 throughout his life, faithful to Edward, would naturally 
 keep the king acquainted with all that was going on. 
 He would apprise him of this state of general dis- 
 order, usurpation, and confiscation ; the king in prison, 
 — all power monopolized by a faction, who plundered 
 and banished their rivals, and who were collecting a 
 force avowedly intended for the invasion of England. 
 This state of affairs would satisfy Edward that before 
 he could visit Gascony, he must do something for the 
 pacification of Scotland. The treaty with France was 
 no secret ; it was made by an embassy consisting of 
 several persons, and it was discussed in the Scottish 
 council. Its main provisions would thus inevitably 
 become known ; and Robert Bruce would be able to 
 warn Edward, that an invasion on the side of Scotland 
 was to be anticipated. 
 
 The king was thus involved in war, at once in 
 two opposite directions. Gascony had been fraudu- 
 lently seized upon, and he could not, for a moment, 
 contemplate submission to such a wrong. He there- 
 fore prepared a fleet of 352 ships, on board which 
 about 7,000 men were embarked ; but the state of 
 affairs in Scotland rendered it inexpedient that he 
 himself should accompany this force. He therefore 
 placed it under the command of his brother, the earl of 
 Lancaster ; who, after gaining some advantages, died at 
 Bayonne, and left the command to the earl of Lincoln. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king knew that it was absolutely 
 
214 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 necessary, that lie should take effectual measures to 
 protect his northern frontier against the threatened 
 Scottish invasion. But, although his revenues were 
 so well managed as to suffice for all ordinary demands, 
 the extraordinary exigencies of two wars had placed 
 him in a position of financial difficulty. A year or 
 two previously he had despatched one expedition into 
 Gascony, and now another had exhausted his means, 
 and the armament for Scotland was still to be provided 
 for. A larger supply than usual was needed, and how 
 should it be obtained ? The consideration of this 
 question in Edward's mind, produced, at last, what 
 Hume describes as " the real and true epoch of the 
 House of Commons," and the " dawn of popular 
 government in England." 
 
 Two earlier dates have been assigned for this 
 great epoch ; but that which is now before us may 
 on some grounds claim the preference. Simon de 
 Montfort, in 1265, while he held both Henry and 
 prince Edward in his custody, summoned a kind of 
 parliament and assembly in Westminster, to sanction 
 some of his transactions with the king ; and to this 
 parliament he called a portion of the barons, — i.e. 
 those of his own party, — some knights, and the repre- 
 sentatives of certain borough- towns. But this whole 
 transaction was regarded, as Hume remarks, as 
 "the act of a violent usurpation;" and no one 
 ever dreamed, in future years, of treating it as a 
 precedent. 
 
 Nearly twenty years had passed away, when Ed- 
 ward himself, in 1283, not wishing to determine 
 arbitrarily the fate of David of Snowdon, called to 
 Shrewsbury not only the barons and the knights, but 
 also representatives from several of the larger towns; 
 
WAK IN SCOTLAND. 215 
 
 aud before these representatives he placed not only 
 the case of David, but also the great " Statute of 
 Merchants," — the first English law, probably, to 
 which the assent of any borough-representatives was 
 ever asked. 
 
 Still, in the present case, a new feature, — a new 
 cause for this appeal to the people, — is apparent. A 
 national peril, an exigency affecting all classes, had 
 shewn itself, and Edward, with his characteristic 
 manliness, resolved to place it frankly before his 
 people, and to ask their aid in a matter in which, as 
 he tells them, "all were equally concerned." The 
 writs convening this parliament of November 1295 
 must be taken to speak the very language of Ed- 
 ward's own noble mind. Those writs commence as 
 follows : — 
 
 "As the rule of justice teaches us, that what 
 concerns all should be by all approved, so it also 
 indicates that common perils should be met by reme- 
 dies provided in common." The dangers to which 
 the realm was exposed are then set forth, and the 
 writ concludes : — " Seeing, therefore, that your wel- 
 fare, as well as that of the whole realm, is concerned, 
 we charge you, on your loyalty and attachment to 
 us, that on the day after the feast of St. Martin, you 
 do attend," &c. 
 
 These writs were addressed not only to the nobles, 
 the prelates, and the knights or lesser barons, but 
 also to the sheriffs or bailiffs of about one hundred 
 and twenty cities and towns. Each sheriff was 
 directed "to cause to be elected, of his county, two 
 knights, and of each city in that county two bur- 
 gesses." And these were to meet, for the first time 
 in the annals of England, " to provide against the 
 
216 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 dangers wliicli threatened the kingdom ;" and they 
 were to be invested " with power from the commu- 
 nitates to do what the matter should require." 
 
 On this 27th of November, 1295, accordingly, 
 there met this first complete parliament of England, 
 — the first of a long series of free and fully-consti- 
 tuted parliaments, — " the archetype of all the repre- 
 sentative assemblies which now meet, either in the old 
 world or in the new*." And, not unnaturally, the 
 burgesses, now for the first time consulted on an 
 exigency of the state, met the king's appeals and 
 requests with even more warmth and liberality than 
 either of the other sections of the parliament. The 
 clergy granted to the king a tenth; the barons and 
 knights an eleventh ; but the burgesses gave him, 
 without hesitation, a seventh. Such was the cordial 
 response given to Edward by his people, on his frank 
 appeal to them for support, in this, one of the great 
 emergencies of his reign. 
 
 These "aids," granted to the king in the last 
 month of 1295, enabled him to prepare with vigour 
 for the important business of the following spring. 
 To Gascony, as we have seen, he had despatched a 
 considerable force. The coasts of Kent and Sussex 
 had shewn themselves, for two years past, able to 
 cope with all the power of Normandy. The chief 
 point of disquietude, therefore, was in the north. In- 
 vasions of the northern counties by Scottish armies 
 had been seen in former reigns ; and Edward had 
 received full notice that such a step had been re- 
 solved upon by the faction which now bore sway in 
 Scotland. 
 
 * Macaulay, vol. i., p. 17. 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 217 
 
 To wait in London until the Scotch had ravaged 
 Cnmberland, would not have been the course of a 
 statesman or of a general. Whether as friend or foe, 
 Edward was always prompt, frank, and outspoken. 
 He directed a parliament to be summoned to meet at 
 Newcastle on the 1st of March, 1296, and to this 
 parliament the Oomyns, Baliols, Bruces, and other 
 Scottish barons, would, as English lords, naturally 
 receive summonses. Baliol, especially, not only as 
 an English baron, but also as the chief vassal of the 
 crown, was called to this meeting, there to perform 
 his oath, sworn at that same Newcastle only three 
 years and three months before, in which oath he had 
 pledged his '' faith and loyalty," to stand by Edward, 
 and his successors on the throne of England, " against 
 all men that may live or die." 
 
 Edward, as his manner was, would take care to 
 proceed with strict regularity. But he could not 
 feel any doubt, that it was a campaign rather than a 
 parliament that he was about to open ; and he had 
 made his arrangements accordingly. 
 
 The king of Scotland, as Mr. Tytler remarks, 
 was, at this time, " confined in a mountain fortress ; " 
 and the Scottish barons who had assumed the man- 
 agement of affairs, were busily engaged in the col- 
 lection and organization of an army. All this would 
 be known to Edward ; and accordingly, finding that 
 neither the king nor the barons made their appear- 
 ance at Newcastle, he put his own forces in motion, 
 and began to approach the Tweed. 
 
 Before, however, he could reach the frontier, tidings 
 came that the Scotch had already, without any public 
 warning, complaint, or declaration of war, actually 
 invaded England. On the 26th of March, the earls 
 
218 WAR IN SCOTLAND 
 
 of Buchan, Menteitli, Strathern, Lennox, Rosse, Athol, 
 and Mar, with a force of about 40,000 men, broke 
 into Cumberland, and ravaged the whole country 
 with savage ferocity. The Chronicle of Lanercost^ 
 a record written at the time and on the spot, thus 
 describes this invasion : — 
 
 " In this raid, the Scotch surpassed the cruelty 
 of the heathen ; for, not being able to seize upon the 
 strong, they wreaked their vengeance on the weak, 
 the decrepid, and the young. Children of two or 
 three years old they impaled upon lances and flung 
 into the air. Consecrated churches they burned ; 
 women dedicated to God they ravished and slew." 
 
 This exhibition of savage ferocity, however, 
 gained for the Scotch neither honor nor advantage. 
 When they came before Carlisle, a place of some 
 strength, " a handful of the citizens," says Mr. 
 Tytler, '* compelled them to retreat with loss." The 
 only real result of this movement was a disastrous 
 one for the Scotch. They had, by taking the initia- 
 tive, decided Edward's course. He was, throughout 
 his whole career, "slow to strife;" but he was not 
 likely to sit in silence while his realm was invaded 
 and his subjects slaughtered. He had reached Ber- 
 wick on the 30th of March, and there the intelligence 
 reached him of the Scotch invasion of Cumberland, 
 and of the cruelties they were perpetrating. His 
 exclamation, on receiving this news, is characteristic 
 of his noble mind: — "Blessed be God!" he ex- 
 claimed, " who hath, up to this time, preserved our 
 hands blameless. But now, since they themselves 
 have entered our realm in hostile array, we, under 
 His guidance, will retaliate what they have done ; 
 and will return their mischief upon their own heads." 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 219 
 
 Surely those who are fond of representing Edward 
 as an ambitious and unscrupulous man, ought to 
 hesitate when they see him, at a crisis like this, so 
 manifestly anxious to be right; and feeling such re- 
 lief of mind when the aggressions of the Scotch made 
 his path perfectly clear. 
 
 He forthwith sent to those who held the command 
 in Berwick, a summons for the surrender of the town 
 on honorable terms. It was refused in the language 
 of scorn. Edward accordingly took measures for an 
 assault. He ordered his fleet to enter the harbor, 
 while he should assault the walls. Three of his 
 ships fell into the hands of the garrison, who instantly 
 put every man to the sword^. 
 
 But the avenger was at hand. Edward himself 
 led the assault, and was the first to clear the 
 ditchf. The English, animated by such an example, 
 carried everything before them. The castle surren- 
 dered upon terms the next day ; and thus one of the 
 largest and most important towns in Scotland was 
 gained in the first three days of the campaign. 
 
 Some of the Scottish historians have striven to 
 tarnish Edward's fame by representing the storming 
 of Berwick as a massacre. There is not the slightest 
 ground for such an imputation. The carrying any 
 town by storm must always be a dreadful operation, 
 
 * Wyntoun, the Scottish chronicler, says, — 
 
 " Of these they saved never a man." 
 
 * + * * t: 
 
 For prisoners in such awhile, 
 
 To kepe is dowte, and grete periUe." 
 
 •f Peter Langtoft writes, — 
 " What then did sir Edward ? peer he had none like ; 
 Upon his steed Bayard first he won the dike." 
 
220 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 whether the town be St. Sebastian or Berwick ; but 
 there was nothing to render the storming of Berwick 
 worse than other efforts of the same kind^. And the 
 Scots had themselves already provoked severity. In 
 their invasion of Cumberland, a few days previous, 
 they had " killed all they found ; sparing neither age 
 nor sex-y and in this very siege, when some English 
 ships and sailors had fallen into their hands, they 
 shewed no mercy. 
 
 While Edward was occupied with the repair and 
 restoration of Berwick, the abbot of Arbroath was an- 
 nounced, who brought to him a message or letter from 
 Ealiol, renouncing his homage. But, as Mr. Sharon 
 Turner remarks, " if Baliol had not become Edward's 
 liegeman, such a renunciation was unnecessary ; and 
 if he were so, no liegeman could cancel his fealty 
 without the consent of his lord. The renunciation 
 was, therefore, evidence of its own absurdity." 
 
 The Scotch chronicles, written long after, tell us 
 that Edward exclaimed, — " Ah ! fool and felon ! of 
 what folly is he guilty ! " We may easily believe 
 that he would receive such a communication with in- 
 dignant contempt. He turned his face towards 
 Edinburgh, and began his march towards that city. 
 
 Midway between Berwick and the present Scottish 
 capital stood the castle of Dunbar. Its lord, the 
 earl of that name, was with Edward ; but the countess, 
 " hating the English," called in, in her lord's ab- 
 sence, some of the Scottish leaders, and put the castle 
 into their hands. So important was the possession 
 of this strong place considered to be, that the earls of 
 Athol, Rosse, and Menteith, with several barons and 
 
 * See Appendix G. 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 221 
 
 thirty-one knights, threw themselves into it, with a 
 large force, hoping to maintain it against Edward's 
 strongest efforts. The king, equally aware of its im- 
 portance, despatched earl Warrenne, with 10,000 foot 
 and 1,000 horse, to capture it if possible. The gar- 
 rison, alarmed at his approach, sent to " the guardians 
 of Scotland" for aid, and the whole Scottish army, 
 of 40,000 foot and 1,500 horse, moved down to its 
 support. The garrison, now confident of victory, in- 
 sulted the English, as if already beaten. But the 
 earl, says Mr. Tytler, "on the appearance of the 
 Scottish army, at once advanced to attack it. On 
 approaching the high ground, it was necessary to de- 
 ploy through a valley, and the Scotch imagined they 
 observed some confusion in the English ranks when 
 executing this movement. Mistaking this for flight, 
 they precipitately abandoned their position on the 
 hills, and rushed down with shouts upon the enemy. 
 But, instead of an enemy in flight, they found an 
 army under perfect discipline, advancing upon their 
 disordered columns. Having in vain endeavoured to 
 regain their ranks, after a short resistance they were 
 entirely routed. The victory was complete, and for 
 a time it decided the fate of Scotland. Ten thousand 
 men fell on the field or in the pursuit. A great mul- 
 titude, includiug the principal Scottish nobility, were 
 taken prisoners, and the next day, the king coming in 
 person before Dunbar, the castle surrendered at dis- 
 cretion. The earls of Rosse, Athol, and Menteith, 
 four barons, and seventy knights, submitted to the 
 mercy of the conquerors*." 
 
 Edward lost no time in following up his advantage. 
 
 * Tytler, vol i., p. 116. 
 
222 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 He sat down before the castle of Roxburgli, whicli 
 was surrendered to him by James, the steward of 
 Scotland ; Dumbarton castle was yielded by Ingelram 
 de Umfraville ; Jedburgh castle followed ; and a con- 
 siderable reinforcement arriving from Wales, Edward 
 was enabled to dismiss to their homes part of his 
 English army. 
 
 He now advanced to Edinburgh, where the castle 
 surrendered after a siege of eight days ; then to 
 Stirling, where a body of Irish auxiliaries joined him. 
 At Perth he kept the feast of St. John the Baptist, 
 creating new knights, with the accustomed festivities. 
 Here messengers from Baliol found him, with letters 
 announcing the Scottish king's submission. As 
 Baliol had long been kept in durance by the rebellious 
 barons, and as these were now, for the most part, 
 prisoners in Edward's camp, we may reasonably sup- 
 pose that this submission was one of the first spon- 
 taneous acts of the Scottish king on finding himself 
 at liberty. Edward sent back, as his answer, a mes- 
 sage signifying that he intended, in fifteen days, to 
 proceed to Brechin, whither the now humbled king of 
 Scotland might repair to meet him. Accordingly, on 
 the 10th of July, Baliol presented himself at Brechin, 
 acknowledged his offence, admitted Edward's right, 
 and resigned the kingdom of Scotland into his hands, 
 as a fief justly forfeited. Edward then assigned him 
 the Tower of London for a residence, with the liberty 
 of a circle of twenty miles round it. Here the de- 
 throned king took up his abode, residing in London for 
 the following three years, after which he was allowed 
 to retire to his estates in Normandy. 
 
 On the 28th of August, Edward held a parliament 
 at Berwick, where he received the fealty of the 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 225 
 
 clergy, barons, and gentry of Scotland. Multitudes of 
 all ranks resorted to him, — earls, barons, kniglits, and 
 esquires. " The oaths of homage, the renunciation of 
 the French alliance, and the names of the vassals, 
 which fill thirty-five skins of parchment, are still 
 preserved among the English archives*." 
 
 Edward next directed his attention to the settle- 
 ment of his new dominions ; and " the measures he 
 adopted," says Mr. Tytler, "were equally politic and 
 just." The jurisdictions of Scotland were suffered to 
 remain with those who possessed them under ancient 
 and hereditary titles ; no wanton or unnecessary act 
 of rigour was committed, no capricious changes in- 
 troduced ; yet all proper means were adopted to give 
 security to his conquest. The earl Warrenne was 
 made guardian of Scotland, Hugh de Cressingham 
 treasurer, and William Ormesby justiciary. The 
 four castles of Roxburgh, Berwick, Jedburgh, and 
 Edinburgh, were committed to English captains. A 
 new seal, in place of the ancient seal of Scotland, was 
 given to Walter de Agmondesham, the chancellor ; 
 and an exchequer for the receipt of the king's rents 
 and taxes was instituted at Berwick, on the model of 
 that at Westminster. The ancient coronation-stone 
 of Scotland was removed from Scone and placed in 
 Westminster Abbey, where to this hour it still 
 remains. 
 
 Such, then, was Edward's first conquest of Scot- 
 land. No one disputes the skill and talent displayed 
 
 * Tytler, vol. i., p. 121. But sir Walter Scott says,—" Most 
 of the noble and ancient families of Scotland are reduced to the 
 necessity of tracing their ancestors' names in i\ie fifty-six sheets 
 of parchment, which constitute the degrading roll of submission 
 to Edward I." 
 
224 WAE IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 by him. The only charge alleged has reference to 
 the moral character of these transactions. Upon this 
 point, therefore, it will be right to add a few words. 
 
 That the union of the several divisions of a great 
 country, like England or France, into one power, is a 
 desirable thing for the country itself, is self-evident. 
 No one doubts that the union of Normandy with 
 France, and of Scotland with England, furthered the 
 interests of all these countries ; or that to sever, now, 
 Scotland from England, or Normandy from France, 
 would be disastrous to all the people of all these ter- 
 ritories. It was both right and expedient, then, that 
 the sovereigns of England and France should watch 
 for opportunities of effecting such unions, whenever 
 this could be done consistently with justice and honor. 
 For such an end might be attained by lawful means ; 
 as when Philip II. took Normandy from John ; or it 
 might be attempted by fraud, as when Philip lY. 
 essayed to take Gascony from Edward. 
 
 Was, then, Edward's conduct, in the acquisition 
 of Scotland, marked by any kind of injustice or 
 wrong? Hume alleges that it was, charging him 
 with " numerous acts of fraud and violence." But, 
 instead of numerous acts of this kind, has any one 
 act of either fraud or violence been proved ? 
 
 We are unable to find a scintilla of such proof. 
 Going back to 1286-7, we find that the only charge 
 brought against Edward up to that time is, that he 
 abstained from interfering. Next, his proposal in 
 1289 is approved by all historians as wise and just 
 and liberally framed. In 1290 he attempted no in- 
 terference until the chief men in Scotland earnestly 
 besought his interposition. Their approaches to him 
 had all the aspect of appeals to a superior lord ; and 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 225 
 
 he could hardly understand them in any other sense. 
 He accepted them as such, and plainly told the 
 Scottish barons that it was in this character that he 
 came among them. After some hesitation, they 
 accepted him as "lord paramount," and in this char- 
 acter swore fealty to him. 
 
 Scotland had now a king, but both king and 
 people had paid homage to Edward, and had acknow- 
 ledged his supremacy. Soon after, a Scottish earl 
 lodges an appeal against one of Baliol's decisions, and 
 calls upon Edward to do him justice. Edward pro- 
 ceeds, in the ordinary discharge of the duties of his 
 office, to hear this appeal ; and for so doing, heavy com- 
 plaints are brought against him; yet in taking this 
 course, he was guilty, in reality, of no offence what- 
 ever. Nevertheless, upon no other ground than this 
 did Baliol and the Scottish barons deliberately break 
 their oaths, ally themselves with Edward's enemies, 
 and raise an army for the invasion of Enp;land. 
 
 By all the laws of feudal sovereignty at that time 
 known, they had by this act incurred the penalties of 
 perjury and treason ; and, by their invasion of Cumber- 
 land, they had commenced a war against their acknow- 
 ledged lord. They rashly appealed to arms, and defied 
 the power of England, wielded by the first captain of 
 the age. They were overthrown, even before the waning 
 of a single moon. But here, as everywhere, Edward's 
 clemency is the most remarkable feature in the case. 
 Not Baliol only, but all those who had forced him 
 into this war, were justly exposed to the loss of pro- 
 perty, if not of life. Yet, the contest once ended by 
 Baliol's resignation, all that remains, on Edward's 
 part, is a willing amnesty, and a ready forgiveness. 
 
 Q 
 
CHAPTER THE NINTH. 
 
 THE WAR WITH FRANCE— AND VARIOUS 
 TROUBLES AT HOME. 
 
 A.D. 1297. 
 
 Edward had now, apparently, acliieved a great and 
 important object, — returning, in the autumn of 1296, 
 to his palace of Westminster, the undisputed sove- 
 reign of both islands, and of all the territories con- 
 tained within them. But his fifty-ninth year, to 
 which he was now approaching, was destined to 
 prove one of the most trying and difficult conjunc- 
 tures of his life. He had established his dominion 
 over the whole realm ; had frustrated one of Philip's 
 main designs, by crushing the Scottish rebellion ; 
 and was now at leisure to deal with that monarch 
 on the soil of France itself. But, as each month 
 of 1297 passed along, it brought with it some new 
 peril ; until, before the year had closed, a series of 
 troubles and perplexities had so accumulated around 
 him, that few men but himself could have forced 
 their way through so many difficulties. 
 
 In dealing with France, Edward felt the disadvan- 
 tage of his position, arising from the distance of 
 Gascony from England. To convey an army to that 
 country, of force sufficient to reconquer the province, 
 would have exhausted both the treasure and the 
 military strength of England ; while, at the same 
 time, neither Wales nor Scotland were in so tranquil 
 
THE WAR WITH FRANCE. 227 
 
 a state, as to encourage him to undertake sucli 
 an enterprise. With his usual sagacity, therefore, 
 Edward preferred to assail France on its northern 
 frontier, in the hope of so threatening both the 
 capital and Normandy, as to force Philip to relin- 
 quish his hold upon the Gascon province. On the 
 side of Flanders, too, Edward could obtain several 
 allies ; and its nearness to England rendered the 
 conveyance of both men and stores less difficult and 
 less expensive. For all these reasons, Edward had 
 determined, in the course of 1296, to endeavour to 
 form a league, between himself, the earls of Flanders, 
 Holland, and Luxembourg, and the duke of Austria, 
 for a combined attack upon France on its north- 
 eastern frontier. 
 
 But all schemes of this kind, — and England has 
 seen many of them, — inevitably tend to one result,— 
 a subsidy. None of these princes were disposed to 
 go to war with such a kingdom as France, except 
 they were assisted in their preparations by a liberal 
 supply of English money. Having formed the desired 
 confederacy, therefore, Edward was next obliged 
 to call together his parliament, and to appeal to them 
 for a supply. The barons, without difficulty, granted 
 him a twelfth ; the burgesses, an eighth. But when 
 the king's representatives made their application to 
 the prelates and clergy, an unexpected difficulty at 
 once shewed itself. 
 
 Boniface YHI., the reigning pope, and Win- 
 chelsey, the primate, were men of vigorous and 
 aspiring minds ; and they evidently desired to tread 
 in the steps of Hildebrand and Thomas a Becket. 
 They believed that they saw the king of England in 
 circumstances of difficulty, and that an opportunity 
 
 q3 
 
228 THE WAE WITH FRANCE, 
 
 was thus afforded, for advancing a new claim on 
 behalf of the church. 
 
 Edward had undoubtedly begun to press with 
 increasing weight upon the resources of the clergy. 
 Nor was this at all surprising. His own necessities 
 were now great, and the wealth of the church had 
 long been visibly and rapidly augmenting. " The 
 possessions of the clergy," says Dr. Henry, " never 
 diminishing, but daily increasing, were now swelled 
 up to an enormous bulk, and threatened to swallow 
 up the whole lands of the kingdom." It has already 
 been remarked, that in the single reign of Henry IH., 
 as many as eight or nine of our splendid cathedrals 
 were built or greatly enlarged ; and during the same 
 period, no fewer than one hundred and Jifty -seven 
 abbeys, priories, and other religious houses, were 
 founded. 
 
 Of all this wealth, the court of Eome took care 
 to demand and to obtain a large proportion. Some- 
 times the pope required a tenth, sometimes a fifth, 
 and once, as much as one half, of all ecclesiastical 
 incomes. In a few j^ears, in the transactions con- 
 nected with the crown of Sicily, the pope was com- 
 puted to have drawn from England, no less than 
 nine hundred and fifty thousand marks, equal, 
 according to the values of the time, to above nine 
 millions of our present money. In a subsequent 
 reign, in 1376, the commons represented to the king, 
 "that the taxes paid to the pope, yearly, amount- 
 ed to Jive times as much as the taxes paid to the 
 crown." Rome, then, depending so largely on the 
 supplies received from England, would naturally look 
 with jealousy on the increasing demands of the 
 crown, which must inevitably come into competition 
 
AND VARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 229 
 
 witli tliose which she herself was accustomed to 
 make. 
 
 Winchelsey, the primate, was a man of great 
 ability ; and Boniface was eminent among the popes. 
 It ma}^ be difficult, at this distance of time, to deter- 
 mine with which of these two the idea originated, 
 but the fact is certain, that just at this moment, when 
 Edward needed and expected a large supply from 
 the church, the primate produced a bull, or mandate 
 from the pope, " forbidding the clergy to grant to 
 laymen any part of the revenues of their benefices, 
 without the permission of the Holy See." 
 
 This was a sudden and a startling blow. By a 
 few words the king saw the whole treasures of the 
 church, — his main reliance, — shut up and sealed 
 from his touch. He had asked of the clergy a sup- 
 ply of "a fifth." His commissioners appeared in 
 the convocation for a reply. The archbishop rose 
 and said, — " You know, sirs, that under Almighty 
 God we have two lords, the one spiritual, the other 
 temporal. Obedience is due to both, hut most to the 
 spiritual. We are willing to do everything in our 
 power, and will send deputies at our own expense 
 to consult the pontifi". We entreat you to carry this 
 reply to the king ; for we dare not speak to him our- 
 selves." 
 
 It was clear, that, to submit to this novel claim to 
 exemption, would be to prostrate the royal authority 
 at the feet of the papal. Already had the pope claimed 
 and exercised a co-ordinate power with the crown, in 
 taxing ecclesiastical property, now rapidly becoming 
 a large proportion of all the property of the realm ; 
 but he here asserted his sole and supreme power over 
 the whole. In future, the king was to receive aid 
 
230 THE WAE WITH FRANCE, 
 
 from the clerical body, only when, and so far, as the 
 pope granted his permission. 
 
 With either of the two preceding sovereigns, such 
 churchmen as Boniface and Winchelsey might have 
 prevailed, and so a foreign sovereignty of the most 
 disastrous kind might have been established in the 
 realm. But, happily, England had, at this crisis, a 
 ruler equal to the emergency, — a sovereign whom 
 even those historians who are prejudiced against 
 him*, admit to have been a ^^ great statesman," "the 
 model of a politic and warlike king." 
 
 With his usual firmness and sagacity, he took, 
 without delay, the most effectual and straightforward 
 course to suppress this new kind of mutiny. Compre- 
 hending, at a glance, the mutualit}^ of the obligations 
 of the ruler and the subject, he at once decided that 
 those who refused to bear their share of the public 
 burdens, could have no right to appeal to the protec- 
 tion of the guardians of the public peace. A deputa- 
 tion of the prelates waited on him at Castle Acre 
 in Norfolk, to acquaint him with their determination, 
 and to explain the reasons for it ; to whom he at 
 once declared, that " since the clergy had broken 
 their allegiance to him, by denying him that assist- 
 ance which by the tenure of their estates they were 
 bound to pay, he would no longer feel any obligation 
 to protect them, or to execute in their favour, laws to 
 which they refused to submit." At once, therefore, 
 " he consulted the lay peers, and issued a proclama- 
 tion of outlawry against the clergy, both regular and 
 secular," — escheating their lay fees, goods and chat- 
 tels, to the use of the crown. And, as Edward was 
 
 ♦ Mackintosh, Hume, &c. 
 
AND VARIOUS TEOUBLES AT HOME. 231 
 
 always frank and outspoken, his chief justice, sir John 
 Metingham, publicly announced from the bench in 
 Westminster Hall, — " You that appear for the arch- 
 bishops, bishops, or clergy, take notice, that in future 
 no justice is to be done them in the king's court, in any 
 matter of which they may complain. But, neverthe- 
 less, justice shall still be done to all manner of persons 
 who have any complaint against them." " So bold a 
 step," says Rapin, " astonished the clerg}'', who, since 
 the beginning of the monarcby, had never experienced 
 the like resolution in any king of England." 
 
 We are now at the opening of the year 1297. 
 The strong measures of the king quickly carried 
 confusion into the ranks of the ecclesiastical confede- 
 racy. The archbishop of York, with all his diocese, 
 and the bishops of Durham and Carlisle, soon made 
 their peace with Edward, and paid their " fifth." It 
 was not long before the bishops of Norwich, Ely, Lin- 
 coln, and Worcester, followed their example. Winchel- 
 sey vainly thundered his sentence of excommunication 
 against all who should disobey the mandate of the 
 pope. The sentence of outlawry proved to have the 
 greater force. Tenants refused to pay rent ; horses 
 were seized on the highway ; and the law, meanwhile, 
 repudiated all claims of the ecclesiastical mutineers 
 to avail themselves of its protection. The inevitable 
 result of such a state of things soon shewed itself. 
 The clergy, and especially the wealthier of them, 
 rapidly fell off from the archbishop ; and sought and 
 obtained the king's pardon and protection. 
 
 But this ecclesiastical rebellion had been only the 
 beginning of troubles. Suppressed though it was, it 
 led to fresh difficulties of another kind. The large 
 and greatly-needed supply, upon which the king had 
 
232 THE WAE WITH FRANCE, 
 
 reckoned, was withheld : and it now came in only 
 slowly, and in fragments. The "aid" granted by 
 parliament required the customary time for its col- 
 lection. Meanwhile, Edward bad pledged himself, 
 both to pay large subsidies to his allies in Flanders, 
 and also to bring over a considerable body of troops. 
 These promises he was now endeavouring, as was his 
 wont, strictly to perform. 
 
 But now appears in England, for the first time, a 
 parliamentary opposition. Hume and Hallam award 
 great praise to the earls of Hereford and Norfolk, for 
 their firmness and patriotism in daring to withstand 
 the king ; but they forget to give any credit to Edward, 
 for having introduced that parliamentary system into 
 England, which made such an opposition possible. 
 It is abundantly clear, that the earl of Norfolk dis- 
 liked the French war in 1297, just as the duke of Nor- 
 folk disliked the French war in 1 797 ; and probably 
 each could have assigned very plausible reasons for his 
 dislike. The important fact, however, is, that alike in 
 1297 and in 1797, both of these noblemen were left 
 at liberty to oppose the war, and both of them did 
 oppose and obstruct it, — the one in the thirteenth 
 century, the other in the eighteenth, — without incur- 
 ring any loss of life or property for so withstand- 
 ing the king's views. 
 
 There is no reason to doubt, that the king had the 
 popular feeling with him. Even in the present day, 
 when peace is so greatly valued, and when considera- 
 tions of "utility" govern so mau}^, the news that 
 Spain had surprised and taken Gibraltar, or that 
 France had suddenly seized upon the Channel Islands, 
 would light up a flame of indignation, and raise a 
 
AND VAEIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 233 
 
 cry of war throughout the realm. How was it to be 
 expected, then, that in the days of chivalry, the 
 gentry and burgesses of England could hear of the 
 fraudulent seizure of such a province as Gascony, 
 without generally sympathizing with their sovereign's 
 indignation ? 
 
 Still, wherever men are free, differences of 
 opinion on all conceivable questions will shew 
 themselves ; and we find from the records of the 
 time, that the earls of Norfolk and Hereford did 
 not heartily concur with the king's views. And, as 
 we have said, Edward had always conducted his 
 affairs in such a frank and open manner, as to give 
 full play to the expression of all such differences of 
 opinion. Whenever any great public question re- 
 quired solution, his first step always was to summon 
 a parliament. And when the dissentient party had 
 thrown all possible obstructions in the way, we next 
 hear of the king's writing to the earl of Hereford, or 
 the earl of Norfolk, that he desires 'Uo have a 
 private colloquium with him." 
 
 In the present instance, Edward resolved to meet 
 his parliament, for the final decision of all questions 
 concerning the war, at Salisbury, on the 25th of Feb- 
 ruary. Meanwhile, however, pressed by the various 
 and urgent demands upon him, he had begun to take 
 measures of a kind which always create a certain 
 amount of discontent. He laid new and heavy im- 
 posts upon wool, and he called upon the sheriffs of 
 all the counties to provide for him a certain quota of 
 wheat, &c. We do not suppose that there was any- 
 thing in these measures which materially differed 
 from the practice of modern wars ; but it is evident 
 
234 THE WAK WITH FRANCE, 
 
 that such claims and demands would often occasion 
 inconvenience, and excite displeasure*. The great 
 men of the realm, as well as the merchants and 
 farmers, would feel these requisitions, and some of 
 them, doubtless, brought their irritated feelings into 
 the discussions in parliament. 
 
 The earl of Norfolk was the high marshal, and 
 the earl of Hereford the high constable, of England. 
 Edward, purposing himself to go into Flanders, 
 wished to commit the charge of a distinct force for 
 Gascony to these two earls ; but they objected to 
 undertake this charge, alleging that their ofiices only 
 bound them to attend the king's person in his wars. 
 Chafed at this backwardness, the king, always ex- 
 citable, grew angry, and is reported to have said, 
 that they should either go or hang. To which Nor- 
 folk rejoined that " he would neither go nor hangf." 
 The constable and marshal after this withdrew, fol- 
 lowed by a large body of knights, their retainers. 
 
 We know not much of the other proceedings of 
 that parliament. The king was evidently in a posi- 
 tion of great difficulty. Opposed by a large body of 
 the clergy, and now opposed also by two of the 
 greatest earls in the realm, he had still the war with 
 France on his hands ; and from it he could not in 
 honor withdraw. Surely we might rather expect the 
 
 * Among tlie writs of that time, we find many addressed to the 
 sheriffs of counties, wherein the king " requests you to advise and 
 take order how you can assist him with one thousand quarters of 
 wheat; for which he will pay you punctually at Midsummer next." 
 
 f Hemiugford says, — " Exiratus Rex prorupit in Inec verha, 
 ut dicitur, ' Per deum, comes, aut ibis aut pendebis.' Et ille, 
 • Per idem juramentum, O Kex, nee ibo nee pendebo.'"— See Ap- 
 pendix H. 
 
AND VAEIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 236 
 
 sympathies of Englisbmen to be with the kini, in this 
 critical juncture, than with the two dissentient earls. 
 Edward, in resisting the wrong done to him by Philip, 
 was merely discharging a plain duty. How, then, 
 can it be deemed "patriotism" in these two great 
 nobles to desert their sovereign in this emergency, 
 and even to throw obstacles in his path ? 
 
 It seems tolerably clear that the discussions at 
 Salisbury were prolonged, and that the secession of 
 Hereford and Norfolk obliged the king to abandon 
 his purpose of sending a fresh expedition to the re- 
 lief of Gascony. The 7 th of March found the king 
 still at Salisbury, and on that day Winchelsey paid 
 him a visit in that city. It was so much the king's 
 habit to have his opponents "face to face," that it 
 seems most probable that the archbishop waited on 
 him there at his own desire. 
 
 The king, when the archbishop arrived, was at- 
 tending the service in the cathedral. When this was 
 over, Winchelsey had a private audience, the king 
 desiring him to say freely what he would. The arch- 
 bishop spoke at some length, and was heard patiently 
 and without any interruption. The king, in reply, 
 told him that "if the pope himself had any temporal 
 possessions in the realm of England, he believed that 
 he, the king, might lawfully take of them for the de- 
 fence of his realm and of the church of England." He 
 added, that " this was a cause in which he could dare 
 to die; since he felt that he was doing nothing unlaw- 
 ful, but was obeying a dire necessity which lay upon 
 himself and the kingdom." Surely, in the frankness, 
 the wisdom, and the calm resolution of the king, 
 there is nothing wanting of the characteristics of 
 true nobleness of mind. 
 
236 THE WAE WITH FRANCE, 
 
 No actual reconciliation then took place, the pri- 
 mate being unwilling to abandon his ground, and the 
 king being resolved never to relinquish his. But 
 Winchelsey promised to send messengers of his own 
 to the pope ; and the king, at his request, promised 
 to shew leniency to those of the clergy who had com- 
 mitted themselves on the papal side. On the 25th 
 of March a synod was held at St. Paul's, in which no 
 positive resolution was adopted ; but the archbishop, 
 and those bishops who acted with him, agreed to con- 
 nive at those of the clergy who should make their 
 peace with the king, although, in so doing, they dis- 
 obeyed the pope ; and Edward, in April, began to 
 shew mercy to those of the recusant clergy who had 
 published the bull in defiance of his orders, and who 
 had been imprisoned for that offence. In May and 
 June he was occupied in assembling his troops, and 
 in providing a sufficient naval force. On the 8th of 
 July the military tenants of the crown were sum- 
 moned to meet in London to do their accustomed suit 
 and service. The high constable and marshal at- 
 tended ; but as they had objected at Salisbury to go 
 to Gascony, because the king did not propose to 
 accompany that expedition, so now they objected to 
 go with the king to Flanders, because, as they said, 
 they could not find that any of their ancestors had 
 ever performed any service in that countr}^ 
 
 The absurdity of this plea was self-evident. It as- 
 sumed that the king must not make war in any country 
 except those in which his ancestors had made war. 
 Evident!}^ these two earls had no stomach for the war 
 on any terms. Doubtless they were at liberty to form 
 their own opinion of its expediency or inexpediency, 
 and to a certain extent to act upon it. But it is impos- 
 
AND VAEIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 237 
 
 sible to help forming a low opinion of the patriotism 
 of two great knights, who, when such a captain as 
 Edward was embarked in a national contest, could 
 leave him to fight it out without their aid. But so it 
 was : they begged the king to appoint other officers 
 in their room. Edward, therefore, named Thomas de 
 Berkeley as substitute for the earl of Hereford, and 
 Geoffrey de Geneville for the earl of Norfolk. In 
 thus tolerating the conduct of these two earls, the king 
 shewed that self-control and practical wisdom which 
 distinguished him through life. But he was about to 
 go much further. He was on the point of quitting 
 home, to open a war, the length and the difficulties 
 of which he could not foresee. He desired, therefore, 
 to leave England, as far as possible, an united and 
 peaceful kingdom during his absence. With this 
 view, having broken up the ecclesiastical confederacy, 
 he announced to Winchelsey and his followers an 
 amnesty for the past, with a pardon for all who were 
 suffering any penalties for their recusancy. And 
 to make his desire for peace and harmony as mani- 
 fest as possible, he convened a large assembly in, 
 or at the entrance of, Westminster Hall. Here, 
 on the 14th of July, the king presented himself on a 
 raised platform, accompanied by his son, then in his 
 fourteenth year, the archbishop, the earl of Warwick, 
 and other lords. He then addressed the assembly, 
 first alluding to the burdens which, in the preparation 
 of his armament, he had been obliged to lay upon 
 them. " He owned that these burdens were heavy ; 
 but declared that it had been as painful for him to 
 impose those burdens, as it must have been for them 
 to bear them. He had taken a part, in order to 
 secure the remainder. His sole object was, to pro- 
 
238 THE WAR WITH FRANCE, 
 
 tect tlie country from its enemies, and from those 
 who sought its ruin." " And now," he added, " I am 
 going once more to face the dangers of war for Eng- 
 land's sake. If I return, receive me again as you 
 have received me to-day, and I will make you full 
 amends. If not, here is my son ; place him on my 
 throne, and his gratitude will reward your fidelity." 
 Edward could not conclude without visible emotion ; 
 the archbishop was equally affected ; and the whole 
 assembly, with outstretched hands, vowed unshaken 
 fidelity*. 
 
 A fortnight after, a great council was held, at 
 which the king openly received the archbishop to his 
 favor, and nominated him one of the council to the 
 young prince, to whom he then desired all present to 
 take an oath of fidelity as the heir to the kingdom. 
 But Edward's generosity and wish for peace never 
 overcame his judgment. At a synod held on the 10th 
 of August, the prelates craftily desired the king to 
 grant them " permission to send to the pope for his 
 license to grant the king an aid.'" Edward at once 
 refused to be any party to that which would have 
 implied his assent to the papal claim. But he con- 
 tinued to treat the clergy with mildness ; and shortly 
 after took leave of the primate, and left the metropolis 
 for Winchclsea, at which port his armament had now 
 assembled. 
 
 At this place, in the middle of August, he received 
 from the two earls and their adherents, a remon- 
 strance, in which they alleged, — " 1. That they conceive 
 that they ought not to be called upon to do service 
 in Flanders, (for the reasons which we have already 
 
 * Matthew of Westminstei". 
 
AND VAEIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 239 
 
 described.) 2. That they have been aggrieved and 
 impoverished by the talliages, aids, and requisitions 
 already levied. 3. That Magna Charta has not been 
 properly observed. 4. That the Charter of Forests 
 is also violated by the king's oflQcers. 5. That they 
 are aggrieved by the tax on wool. And, lastly, 
 desiring the honor and safety of our lord the king, 
 it does not seem good unto them that he pass over 
 into Flanders." 
 
 This last clause explains all the rest. What the 
 actual feeling or opinion of the two earls really was, 
 — whether they were prepared to let France defraud 
 England of her fairest foreign possession, — we know 
 not ; but it is quite clear, that, either on principle, or 
 from views of expediency, the}^ disliked the war with 
 France. And, disliking the war, it was natural that 
 they should still more dislike the heavy requisitions, 
 aids, and talliages, which that war rendered necessary. 
 One main feature of the case however, is, the tolerant 
 and reasonable nature of Edward's government, which 
 now, for the first time, allowed questions such as 
 these to be discussed ; first, in parliament, and then, 
 by a public correspondence. For the king, receiving 
 this public manifesto, disapproving his policy, ex- 
 pressed no anger at it. On the contrary, he received 
 and treated it with more tolerance than would be 
 shewn for a similar document in France at the 
 present day. To the messengers who brought him 
 the earls' remonstrance, he answered, with calmness, 
 that he had not his council with him, and could not, in 
 their absence, reply to matters of so great importance. 
 That he should have been better pleased if the remon- 
 strants had gone with him ; but since they would 
 not, he trusted that they would raise no disturbance 
 
240 THE WAR WITH FEANCE, 
 
 in his absence. Before he embarked, however, he 
 took care to reply to this remonstrance in the most 
 public and emphatic manner. A royal declaration 
 was drawn up, and sent to the sheriffs of all the 
 counties for publication. In this document the king 
 recounts the various steps of the disobedience of the 
 two earls ; and then repeats the apologies and assur- 
 ances which he had made at Westminster Hall. He 
 declares, that " he grieves that he should so burden 
 his people ; and promises, that if he should return, he 
 will amend all things as he ought ; and if not, he will 
 desire his heir to do so. For he knows well, that no 
 man is so much indebted to the people, or so much 
 bound to love them, as he himself. But there is 
 great necessity for him to go to the assistance of his 
 ally, the earl of Flanders ; and his going over is of 
 immediate consequence, by reason of the danger 
 which his friends are in ; — whom, if he should lose, 
 the kingdom might be in great jeopardy." He ends 
 with a desire that his people would pray that his 
 voyage might be prosperous, and have a good result, 
 to the honor of God, and the good of the realm ; 
 and that a durable peace might follow. 
 
 Having issued this, his public reply to the objec- 
 tions of the two earls, the king, on the 22nd of 
 August, sailed, carrying with him 500 ships, in which 
 were 1,800 knights and a large force of infantry. 
 But he could scarcely have landed in Flanders, before 
 great events occurred both in England and in Scot- 
 land; — events which concurred with disappointments 
 abroad, to induce him speedily to prepare for his 
 return home. 
 
 In the course of the summer, various rumours 
 had reached England, of a spirit of insurrection 
 
AND VAEIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 211 
 
 which had shewn itself in Scothmd, and of various 
 successes in partisan warfare which had been gained 
 by a leader named Walleys, or Wallace. Twice or 
 thrice had Edward written to Scotland, to desire his 
 representatives there to suppress these disorders with- 
 out delay. Had it not been for his engagements 
 with the earl of Flanders, there can be no doubt that 
 he would himself have returned into the north, and 
 have stopped the progress of these troubles in the 
 summer of 1297. But his engagements bound him 
 to appear in Flanders ; and he was obliged, there- 
 fore, to neglect the warnings of the two earls, who 
 told him, that the Scotch, having begun to rebel, 
 would do so with the more boldness when they 
 heard of his departure. 
 
 The English must have disembarked in Flanders 
 at the end of August or beginning of September ; and 
 it was in the early part of the latter month that the 
 folly of Cressingham, the treasurer of Scotland, gave 
 Wallace the victory of Stirling; and thus nearly 
 destroyed in one hour all the great results of 
 Edward's campaign of the preceding year. The 
 news must have reached London by the middle of 
 September ; and the young prince found it necessary 
 immediately to summon a parliament, to consider 
 what steps it would be expedient to take. 
 
 Norfolk and Hereford now saw an opportunity 
 offered them, of a more favorable kind than they 
 could have anticipated. The peril of England was 
 manifest, and all men would feel that union, — the 
 union of all her leading men, — was so desirable, that 
 no slight difficulty could be allowed to stand in the 
 way. The two earls attended the parliament, having 
 first demanded some guarantees of safety. Their 
 
 R 
 
242 THE WAR WITH FRANCE, 
 
 claims were not exorbitant ; and we are not entitled 
 to lay to their charge more factious purposes or 
 conduct than has often been seen in opposition- 
 leaders in modern times. The chief grievance which 
 they desired to have redressed was, the practice to 
 which Edward had latterly been obliged to resort, of 
 levying aids or talliages without consent of parliament. 
 This, however, was no new claim setup by the crown. 
 Mr. Hallam remarks, that " hitherto the king's pre- 
 rogative of levying money, by name of talliage or 
 prise, from his towns or tenants in demesne, had 
 passed unquestioned." Edward, then, in his hour of 
 need, had merely resorted to an old prerogative of the 
 crown ; and the earls, in demanding the surrender of 
 this prerogative, were claiming a large and important 
 concession from the sovereign to the people. 
 
 Some writers have awarded a large meed of praise 
 to the two earls, for their courage and patriotism in 
 wresting such a concession from such a king. But it 
 should be remembered that Edward himself was absent 
 when the two earls are said to have shewn so much 
 courage ; that his return was uncertain and impro- 
 bable, and that the exigency of the state, from the 
 Scottish rebellion, was such as to render it impossi- 
 ble that any reasonable request should be denied. It 
 should also be added, that the two earls, who are 
 praised for their courage, took care to send over for 
 Edward's signature, along with the charter, an act of 
 grace, securing their own full pardon for what they 
 had done. It would have been a better, and a more 
 befitting proof of courage, had they, after preferring 
 their request or demand, proceeded to raise a few 
 thousand men, and to chace Wallace out of Cumber- 
 
AND VARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 243 
 
 land, \vhere all this autumn he was committing the 
 most fearful ravao:es. 
 
 However, the demands of Norfolk and Hereford 
 were immediately conceded. On the 10th of October 
 the parliament at Westminster framed a new confirma- 
 tion of the charters, with fresh clauses prohibiting 
 the levying of talliages or prises, without the assent 
 of the prelates, barons, knights, and burgesses ; — 
 and another statute or order, wherebv the kino; 
 granted a full pardon to the two earls, " for all manner 
 of ofi'ences which they may have committed." These 
 statutes were sent over to the king, and within three 
 days they were signed by him, and returned. Some 
 historians have actually argued, that this short delay in 
 the adoption of so important a measure, is to be taken 
 as manifesting Edward's great reluctance and his 
 "many internal struggles!" On this concession, 
 however, the laity granted the king an aid of an eighth, 
 the clergy of Canterbury, a tenth, and the clergy of 
 York, a fifth. 
 
 But it is time that we turned to the state of affairs 
 in Flanders. This expedition, and this war, proved 
 one of the most fruitless efforts of the king's life. A 
 regard to his own pledges and obligations carried him 
 there, at a time when it would have been far more de- 
 sirable for him to march into Scotland; — a disregard 
 of their pledges and obligations on the part of his 
 allies, made all his efforts and sacrifices nugatory. 
 "All Edward's measures in Flanders," says Rapin, 
 "were broken by the treachery of his allies, who 
 forsook him after taking his money." " His embarka- 
 tion," says Hume " had been so long retarded by the 
 various obstructions thrown in his way, that he lost 
 
 b3 
 
244 THE WAR WITH FRANCE, &c. 
 
 the proper season for action." He was merely able to 
 stop Philip's career ; and Philip, finding his resources 
 exhausted, and dreading a reverse, began to wish for 
 an accommodation ; which Edward, disgusted with 
 his faithless allies, and anxious about the state of 
 Scotland, was quite willing to agree to. On the 23rd 
 of November, therefore, a truce for two years was 
 agreed upon ; and shortly afterwards Edward directed 
 writs to issue to the earls and barons of England, 
 calling upon them to meet him at York, on the 14th 
 of the following January. 
 
CHAPTER THE TENTH. 
 
 WALLEYS, OE WALLACE. 
 
 A.D. 1297—1298. 
 
 The present chapter will include some important 
 events ; but it need not extend to any considerable 
 length. It will be devoted to a sketch of the public 
 life of William Walleys, or Wallace, which occupied 
 the space of just fourteen months. 
 
 The story of Wallace, like that of Arthur, or of 
 Robin Hood, has been so enveloped in the brilliant 
 haze of romance, as to make it apparently difficult 
 to distinguish the facts of his life, from the fictions 
 which gathered round his history. But a little calm 
 investigation dispels the difficulty. The real history 
 of Wallace may be found in the chronicles or other 
 writings of ten or twelve English annalists who lived 
 in his own day. The romantic traditions which were 
 cherished by the Scotch, never saw the light, in written 
 form, until the days of " Blind Harry," who lived 
 nearly two centuries after. This wandering minstrel 
 may be of some little use, when he enlarges or illus- 
 trates the records of the thirteenth century ; but 
 when he gives us marvels which are altogether at 
 variance with the unquestionable facts of authentic 
 history, his rhymes must take their place among 
 other old romances^. The chief thing to be re- 
 
 * Major, the Scotch historian, tlius describes "Blind Harry:" — 
 " Henry, who was blind from his birth, in the time of my in- 
 
246 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 gretted is, that while no modern Scottish historian 
 would venture to pin his faith on Blind Harry's sto- 
 ries, most of them, perhaps unconsciously, borrow 
 something from him. Thus, even Hume tells us, 
 that Wallace had " through a course of mnni/ years, 
 with signal perseverance, defended the liberties of his 
 native country." The fact being, as we have already 
 stated, that Wallace's whole public career was included 
 within a space of fourteen months. To put this be- 
 yond any doubt, we shall state the facts in the very 
 words of various Scottish writers. 
 
 (1) Wallace appeared on the stage in May 1297. 
 
 fancy, (about 1470,) composed the whole Book of William Wallace; 
 containing the things which were commonly related of him. By 
 the recitation of these he obtained food and raiment. For my own 
 part, I give only partial credit to writings of this description." 
 
 Two or three samples will shew that Major was quite right in 
 giving " only partial credit " to Blind Harry and his traditions. 
 
 1. Blind Harry begins with Wallace's discontent with Ed- 
 ward's rule over Scotland ; and says that he was then eighteen. 
 He then conducts him through many wonderful adventures for 
 twenty-seven years, and at the time of his death states his age as 
 being forty-five. Whereas history asserts, with perfect certainty, 
 that Edward's first conquest of Scotland took place in 1296, that 
 Wallace was never heard of till 1397, and that his execution took 
 place in 1305. 
 
 2. Blind Harry makes Wallace fight seven or eight battles. 
 History, represented by ten or twelve writers of Wallace's own 
 time, knows of only two. 
 
 3. Blind Harry makes the queen of England, after the battle 
 of Stirling, seek Wallace, and fall at his feet to ask for peace. 
 History says, that there was no queen in England at that time, 
 nor for two years after. 
 
 4. Blind Harry then sends Wallace to France, where Philip 
 receives him gladly, and makes him " duke of Guienne." History 
 says, that Philip put him in prison, and sent to Edward to ofler 
 to transmit him as i)risoncr. 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 2*7 
 
 The Wallace Documents, published by the Maitland 
 Club in Edinburgh in 184L, tell us, that " he first 
 appears in May 1297." In Chalmers's Caledonia we 
 read, " Wallace began his operations in May 1297." 
 In Macfarlane's {Pictorial) History of England^ it is 
 stated, that " Wallace is first mentioned in May 1297." 
 On this point, therefore, no controyersy can exist. 
 
 (2) His career closes, as a public man, in July 
 1298. After this, we hear of him, once or twice, as 
 a fugitive ; and at last, as a criminal on the scaffold ; 
 but no one act is recorded as haying been done by 
 him after this month of July in 129 8. So confesses 
 Mr. Tjnler in his Scottish history, where he tells us, 
 that "his name does not recur in any authentic record 
 as bearing eyen a secondary command in the wars 
 against Edward ; nor, indeed, do we meet with him 
 in ani/ public transaction, until his execution, eight 
 years after*." And in the Wallace Documents of 
 the Maitland Club, it is admitted, that " immediately 
 after the defeat which he sustained at Falkirk in 
 1298, he disappears from history, and no traces of 
 him are found until a yery short time before his 
 execution in 1305." It is, therefore, a fact quite 
 beyond any dispute, that the whole history of Wal- 
 lace, previous to his execution, is a history comprised 
 within fourteen months. 
 
 Wallace was of Welsh extraction. One of the 
 same name, " Henry Walleis " or " Walleys," was 
 mayor of London in 1284, and again in 1298. "The 
 name of Walleys or Walleis," says the editor of the 
 Wallace Documents, "simply designates any native of 
 the ancient kingdom of Wales." His name, in a 
 
 * History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 165. 
 
248 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 charter still in existence, is given as '^Willelmus 
 Walays." In his sentence it is " Willelmus Waleis." 
 Still, it seems probable that his family had been 
 settled for more than a century in Scotland ; and 
 hence he might have a better claim to call it "our 
 country" than Bruce, who was, in fact, an Englishman. 
 
 The father of Wallace was a small proprietor in 
 Elderslie. He was the second son, and "got the 
 five-pound land of Elderslie*." "He was," says 
 Mr. Tytler, " neither rich nor noble " (p. 124). And 
 William himself, being also a younger son, had pro- 
 bably but small occupation and small means. He is 
 described by his panegyrist as a frequenter of fairs 
 and markets, " His make," says Mr. Tytler, " ap- 
 proached the gigantic ; his passions were violent, and 
 a strong hatred to the English began to shew itself." 
 
 It is thus that partisan-chiefs and guerilla 
 leaders are usually formed. Great strength, violent 
 passions, leisure to cultivate the use of arms, and 
 discontent nourished by poverty and idleness ; such, 
 in nine cases out of ten, are the qualities and cir- 
 cumstances which produce a rebel chief. 
 
 A market brawl, in which Wallace slew an 
 Englishman, soon made him obnoxious to the autho- 
 rities, and drove him to the woods. He now began 
 to indulge his hatred to the intruders, by systematic 
 attacks upon them, as opportunities occurred. His 
 panegyrist says : — 
 
 " Where lie found one out of others' presence, 
 After, to Scots, they did no more oH'ence ; 
 To cut his throat, or stick him suddenly, 
 He cared not ; found he them anorly " (alone). 
 
 * Wallace Documents, Edinburgh : 1841, 
 
WALLEYS, OR "WALLACE. 249 
 
 And the minstrel's chapters are often thus headed, — • 
 "How Wallace slew young Selby;" ''How Wallace 
 slew lord Percy's servant ;" " How Wallace slew the 
 buckler-player." Mr. Tytler says: — " He was driven 
 to seek safety in the wilds and fastnesses. Here he 
 collected, by degrees, a little band of men of des- 
 perate fortunes." " In his attacks on straggling 
 parties of the English, he was generally successful. 
 Confidence came with success, and multitudes flocked 
 round the standard of revolt*." "Wallace and his 
 men lived by plunder ; retreating when pursued to 
 the woods and fastnesses ; whence they again issued 
 forth to attack the English convoys. All the soldiers 
 who fell into their hands, were instantly put to death'^ 
 "Great numbers of the English were openly mas- 
 sacred in almost every district beyond the Frith of 
 Forthf." ■ 
 
 Of one of these rencontres, the blind minstrel 
 thus speaks : — 
 
 "Wallace commanded, they suld no man save ; 
 Twenty and two they stickit in that steid." 
 
 Mr. Tytler adds, — " It was not uncommon for them 
 at these times to drive before them troops of aged 
 priests and nuns, whose hands were tied behind their 
 backs ; and while the brutal soldiery and their hard- 
 hearted leaders sat on the bridges, these unhappy 
 wretches were cast down headlong, or compelled 
 to precipitate themselves into the stream, while 
 their drowning agonies were the subject of savage 
 derision:}:." 
 
 These atrocities are recorded by Knighton and 
 Trivet, two historians who lived at the time, and 
 
 * History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 126, 127. 
 t Tytler's Scottish Worthies, pp. 172, 184. I Ibid, p. 186. 
 
250 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 Knighton adds, that he had received the description 
 from the lips of a priest, who himself had been 
 present at, and managed to escape from, one of these 
 massacres. 
 
 Thus establishing a '^ reign of terror," Wallace 
 and his followers were rapidly clearing the country 
 of the English ; those who could not find safety in 
 some fortified place, naturally taking to flight. News 
 of these troubles reached England in June and Ju- 
 ly ; but Edward had pledged himself to his allies 
 to join them in Flanders, and to turn northwards 
 instead, would have been a dishonorable abandon- 
 ment of his friends, and a breach of his deliberate 
 engagements. He could, therefore, only write to 
 earl Warrenne, urgently and repeatedly, to collect 
 a force, and to put down these disturbances, — 
 spending, if needful, the whole revenues of Scot- 
 land in this duty. 
 
 But Cressingham, the treasurer of Scotland, an 
 arrogant and unpopular man, despised the insurgents, 
 and thus brought on a terrible defeat and loss. The 
 forces of Wallace continued to increase, and towards 
 the end of summer, one name of note was added to 
 his array. Sir William Douglas, — who had been 
 governor of Berwick, and who had, on the surrender 
 of that place, been " readily admitted to the king's 
 peace," receiving his liberty and a new grant of his 
 estates, and swearing fealty to the king, — was the 
 first man in Scotland to set the evil example of a 
 disregard of a solemn oath. This perfidy and 
 treachery subsequently spread, and became so com- 
 mon in Scotland, as to drive the king, towards the 
 close of his life, into a state of absolute exaspera- 
 tion ; leading him to abandon that mild and generous 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 261 
 
 policy, which, for the first thirty years of his reign, 
 he had followed. 
 
 As August passed on, the followers of Wallace 
 grew into an array, and he held possession of the open 
 country, no English power north of the Forth being 
 in the field against him. Earl Warrenne, however, 
 had now collected a force of about 40,000 or 50,000 
 men in the southern counties, and on the English 
 border ; and was marching northwards, in search of 
 Wallace and his followers. At the beginning of 
 September, the two armies approached each other, in 
 the neighbourhood of Stirling. Wallace's force is 
 stated to have been nearly the same as that of the 
 English army. Such was the overweening confidence 
 of Cressingham, that when lord Henry Percy brought 
 up an additional body of 8,000 men, the treasurer dis- 
 missed them, as unnecessarily adding to the strength 
 and to the expenditure of the army. It is evident 
 that that same confidence of success which ruined 
 the French armies at Crecy and Agincourt, was now 
 leading the English commanders to destruction. 
 
 The Scotch army occupied a good position on the 
 northern bank of the river ; awaiting, as policy 
 evidently suggested, the English attack. A narrow 
 bridge spanned the river at that point, and offered 
 the only visible means of crossing to the opposite 
 bank. A Scottish knight, sir Richard Lundin, who 
 kuew the country, and rode by the earl's side, ex- 
 claimed to him, — '' If you attempt to cross the 
 bridge, you throw away your lives ! The men can 
 only pass over by twos, and the Scotch command 
 our flank, and will be instantly upon us. I will 
 shew you a ford, where you may pass by sixty at a 
 time ; give me five hundred horse, and I will secure it." 
 
252 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 Nothing else than fatuity could have disregarded 
 such counsel. But Cressingham, contemptuous and 
 overweening, exclaimed to the earl, — " Why do we 
 waste time ; let us pass on, as becomes us, and do 
 our duty !" The earl, nettled at this imputation of 
 backwardness, gave the order to advance. As might 
 have been expected, the result was disastrous. The 
 Scotch allowed a considerable body of the English to 
 pass, and then, while they were thus separated from 
 the main force, and endeavouring to form, a fierce 
 attack was made, and in an instant all was in con- 
 fusion. One part of the Scotch army seized the bridge, 
 while another part was engaged in the slaughter of 
 the disordered English. Many of these leaped into 
 the river and were drowned. Cressingham was 
 among those who had crossed. " His body," says 
 Mr. Tytler, " was mangled ; the skin torn from the 
 limbs, and in savage triumph cut to pieces." Wallace 
 himself ordered as much to be reserved for him as 
 would make a sword-belt. 
 
 The English were thus sacrificed to the folly of 
 one man, who did not survive to bear the blame. 
 One knight only is recorded to have distinguished 
 himself : — Sir Marmaduke Twenge, one of those who 
 had crossed the river, was urged by a companion to 
 throw himself into the stream, in order to escape. 
 " What," exclaimed he, " volunteer to drown myself, 
 when I can cut my way through them all ! — never let 
 such foul slander rest on us !" *' But alas for me !" 
 said his friend, who was on foot, and saw no such 
 possibility of escape. " Leap up behind me," said 
 Twenge ; and so burdened, he gave his horse the 
 spur, drove him through the midst of the enemy, and 
 rejoined his friends in safety. 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 253 
 
 Earl Warrenne, though brave, and inured to 
 arms, seems to have been an impulsive man, who, 
 under defeat, lost all self-control. We have already 
 observed his flight from the battle of Lewes. And 
 now, in like manner, horrified at the massacre which 
 he beheld on the opposite side of the river, and 
 unable to remedy his fault, he gave the command of 
 the retreat to sir Marmaduke, and rode off to Ber- 
 wick. This sort of panic was even more disastrous 
 than his previous rashness ; for in those days the 
 flight of the general implied the dissolution of the 
 army. 
 
 The English chroniclers state the loss of the 
 English at 5,000 infantry and 100 horse ; but, in 
 effect, when the earl had left it, the army was dis- 
 banded. And so soon as the fate of the day was 
 decided, hut not before^ " the earl of Lennox, and the 
 steward of Scotland," says Mr. Tytler, ^' threw off 
 the mask, and led a body of followers to destroy and 
 plunder the flying English." 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, with his usual talent and per- 
 spicuity, thus describes the battle of Stirling : — 
 
 " The earl, an experienced warrior, hesitated to 
 engage his troops in the defile of a wooden bridge, 
 where scarce two horsemen could ride abreast ; but 
 urged by the imprudent vehemence of Cressingham, 
 he advanced, contrary to common sense, as well as to 
 his own judgment. The vanguard of the English 
 was attacked before they could get into order ; the 
 bridge was broken down, and thousands perished in 
 the river, and by the sword*." 
 
 Such was the battle of Stirling, — the only victory 
 
 * History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 72. 
 
254 WALLETS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 which gives lustre to Wallace's name. And this, it 
 is quite evident, was, it may be said, laid at his feet ; 
 • — there being probably scarcely a man in his army 
 who did not see the English general's blunder, or who 
 would not, if in command, have taken the same 
 advantage of it. 
 
 Availing himself of the panic which this overthrow, 
 and their commander's flight, had spread among the 
 English, Wallace, shortly after his victory, resolved 
 on gratifying his troops with a plundering excursion 
 into England. The opportunity, undoubtedly was a 
 tempting one. The king was absent in Flanders, and 
 so involved in the war with France, that his return, 
 just then, was impossible. The young prince, left in 
 London, was in his childhood, and his council were 
 occupied with the demands of the two earls. These 
 noblemen, bearing the high offices of " Constable " 
 and " Marshal " of England, instead of interesting 
 themselves in the defence of their native country, 
 were busily engaged in devising " charters " and 
 securities against taxation. Acknowledging, as we 
 do, the value of the concessions which they suc- 
 ceeded in wringing from the crown, we cannot think 
 so highly as some have done, of two English 
 knights of high degree, who, having first excused 
 themselves from taking part in the war in Gascony, 
 and then having found a new excuse to avoid going 
 to Flanders, — now remained still supine while the 
 Scotch were burning and devastating the northern 
 counties of England. 
 
 Wallace's preparations, however, for his proposed 
 invasion of the northern counties, throw some light 
 upon his real position with respect to the people of 
 Scotland. " The majority of the nobles," says Mr. 
 
WALLETS, OR "WALLACE. 255 
 
 Tytler, " being still against him, Wallace found it 
 diJQficult to procure new levies, and was constrained to 
 adopt severe measures against all who were refractory. 
 Gibbets were erected in each barony and county- 
 town ; and some burgesses of Aberdeen, who had 
 disobeyed the summons, were hanged. After this 
 example, he soon found himself at the head of a 
 numerous army^." This language makes it quite 
 clear, that however this new leader might be sup- 
 ported by all the '• men of desperate fortunes," he 
 never had the people of Scotland at his back. Of all 
 the nobles and gentry of that kingdom, not more than 
 two or three ever allowed their names to be associated 
 with his ; and these "gibbets erected in every county- 
 town," shew that the burgesses were not more enthu- 
 siastic in his cause than the higher classes. His 
 followers were, indeed, from the beginning, the dis- 
 contented, the vicious, and " the men of desperate 
 fortunes." 
 
 However, by the use of terror on the one hand, 
 and of hopes of plunder on the other, a sufficient 
 force was assembled in October 1297, to venture 
 across the border ; and, once in England, they in- 
 flicted on the northern counties, says Hemingford, 
 " all the miseries of unrestrained rapine and blood- 
 shed." " Increasing his forces," says sir Walter 
 
 * Tytler, vol. i., p. 142. Fordun plainly states the fact ; and 
 Hector Boethius, in his Chronicle, says : — 
 
 " That samin time, thair was that made himploy ; 
 
 Men in the north, that would not him ohey ; 
 ■5f -Sf * ^f 
 
 Thairfor Wallace, without any demand, 
 ^ ■jf * ^ 
 
 Syne for thair treason hangit them ilkane." 
 
256 WALLETS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 Scott, "tliat lie might gratify tliem witli plunder, he 
 led them across the English border, and sweeping it 
 lengthwise from Newcastle to the gates of Carlisle, 
 he left nothing behind him but blood and ashes^ 
 The minstrel adds one or two features, telling us that 
 
 " The host 
 Began at Tweed, and spared nought they found. 
 
 All Durham town they hurnt up in a gleed : 
 
 vr TT w TT 
 
 For prisoners they liket not to keep ; 
 
 Whom they o'ertook, they made their friends to weep." 
 
 Some details, however, are given by ITeming- 
 ford, Matthew of Westminster, and other chroniclers, 
 which justify the belief, that the cruelties perpetrated 
 by Wallace and his followers on this occasion rivalled 
 the worst deeds of the greatest monsters known to 
 history. All the English writers of that period, who 
 go into any details, concur in charging Wallace with 
 " forcing English men and women to dance naked 
 before him, pricking them with lances and swords ;" 
 with " slaying infants at their mothers' breasts ;" 
 with " burning alive a whole school full of boys," &c. 
 The concurrence of various writers, all living at the 
 time, proves the general belief in these facts. One of 
 these records, — i\\QChronicle of Rochester, now among 
 the Cotton MSS., — evinces the impression made on the 
 English mind at that period, by the insertion of pic- 
 torial representations of these scenes on the margin 
 of the chronicle. Nor does it seem likely that the 
 king would himself have publicly charged Wallace 
 with these crimes, as he does in his letter to pope 
 Boniface in 1301, if the circumstances had not been 
 quite notorious and beyond dispute. 
 
WALLEYS, OB, WALLACE. 267 
 
 Here, too, the traditions recorded by the blind 
 minstrel may with propriety come in, not to establish 
 any^^ new facts, but to shew that " the things com- 
 monly related" of Wallace in Scotland were identical 
 with those recorded of him in England. The burning 
 of large numbers of English, in kirks or mansions, is 
 boasted of by Blind Harry, with exaggerations, doubt- 
 less, but in more than one instance. Thus, in his 
 seventh book, he tells us " how Wallace burnt 4,000 
 Englishmen in the kirk of Dunottar ;" and some of 
 his rhymes run thus : — 
 
 " Some liung on crags, right dolefully to die : 
 Some leapt, some fell, some fluttered in the sea : 
 No Southran was left in all that hold, 
 And all within they burnt to powder cold." 
 
 And in his eighth book he tells a similar tale of 
 a castle or mansion in Yorkshire, which Wallace 
 blocked up and set on fire : — 
 
 " Five hundred men, that were into that place, 
 Got none away, but died withouten grace." 
 
 The numbers of the sufferers in these two cases 
 are doubtless augmented by the license of the bard ; 
 but the important fact is this, that the narrations 
 of the English chroniclers, and the charges alleged 
 against Wallace by Edward himself, are substantially 
 confirmed, and gloried in, by these old Scottish 
 traditions. 
 
 The admirers of Wallace now endeavour to gloss 
 over or extenuate these atrocities, speaking of them 
 as " some acts of violence committed during the 
 fury of war." Such is the delicate phraseology em- 
 ployed by Hume. But they were not " acts of vio- 
 lence," but acts of savage ferocity. Neither were 
 
 s 
 
258 WALLEYS, OE WALLACE. 
 
 they committed " during the fury of the war,'* but 
 in cold blood, when there was no hostile force in the 
 field against him, — his visit to England being mainly 
 for purposes of plunder. Only one observation, 
 however, need be dwelt upon, at this point of the 
 subject, which is this : that any leader, in any age, — 
 the thirteenth century or the nineteenth, — who enters 
 the territory of another state, and deals with it as 
 Wallace is allowed on all hands to have dealt with 
 England in 1297, must lay his account to receive, 
 when he is caught, a speedy death upon the scaffold ; 
 and that with the utmost severity that is ever em- 
 ployed at the time. Nor will the name of " patriot " 
 avail to save him. Who doubts that the feelings 
 of Wallace towards England in 1297, and of the 
 Nana Sahib towards England in 1857, were nearly 
 identical ? But the sincerity of their hatred cannot, 
 surely, be admitted to be any extenuation of their 
 barbarities. 
 
 For several weeks Wallace and his followers 
 revelled in the spoils of burning towns and ruined 
 abbeys ; but even then some retribution overtook 
 them. They lingered too long amidst these enjoy- 
 ments. "Winter set in with great severity. The 
 frost was so intense, and the scarcity of provisions 
 so grievous, that multitudes of the Scots perished 
 from cold and famine, and Wallace ordered a re- 
 treat^." In useless revenge for this inroad, lord 
 Robert Clifford collected a force in Cumberland, and 
 invaded Annandale. A few villages and hamlets 
 were burned, and about three hundred Scots were 
 slain. It was to put an end to this wretched state of 
 
 • Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 143. 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 259 
 
 things, by making the English and Scotch one people, 
 that Edward had been laboring for several years 
 past. 
 
 But the exploits of Wallace were now over. In 
 fact, his successful skirmishes as a guerilla-leader in 
 the spring, his victory at Stirling in the summer, and 
 his ravage of the northern counties in the autumn, 
 constitute the whole list of his achievements. Be- 
 fore May 1297 his name was never heard, and after 
 December of that same year he only appears, first, at 
 Falkirk as a beaten general ; and then, as a fugitive 
 and an outlaw. The wrathful feelings of the English 
 had been effectually roused by the barbarities in- 
 flicted by Wallace on the northern counties. Of this 
 we have the most signal evidence in the fact of the 
 remarkable response given to Edward's call. The 
 king had probably heard, when he issued his sum- 
 mons in November for a military rendezvous on the 
 ]4th of the following January, that Wallace had 
 broken into the northern counties. Some such reason 
 is needed to explain so unusual a step. In those 
 days, still more than in modern times, armies could 
 scarcely move, or act, or indeed exist, in the depth 
 of winter. Still, if the Scotch were indeed in Eng- 
 land, it was needful, whatever the season might be, 
 to drive them out. But, when January came, Wal- 
 lace had retired; Edward was still involved in the 
 affairs of France and Flanders, and the proposed 
 march was postponed. 
 
 Yet the gathering at York on the Uth of January, 
 shewed at once the deep indignation which Wallace's 
 atrocities had excited, and the confidence which the 
 nation reposed in the strong right arm of their king. 
 Although no tidings of Edward's landing had yet 
 
 s3 
 
260 WALLETS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 been receivedj and althougli Wallace had retired back 
 into Scotland, still to York there came, in the short, 
 dark days of January, no fewer than 4,000 horse, 
 and 100,000 footmen. Considering how lax and un- 
 certain the obligations of the military tenure had 
 become, and that the king was known to be still 
 abroad, we cannot but look upon this remarkable 
 concourse of Englishmen in arms, at that unusual 
 and inclement season of the year, as the strongest 
 possible proof of the eager desire which then ani- 
 mated the whole English people, to take a signal 
 revenge for the blood of their slaughtered fellow- 
 countrymen. 
 
 Their eagerness, however, was restrained by the 
 practical wisdom of the king. He would have been 
 apprised, probably, by vessels from Newcastle or 
 Berwick, that the Scotch invaders had retired. 
 Foreign affairs still detained him abroad, and he was 
 too wise to run any risk of a second battle of Stirling. 
 He therefore apprised his generals at York that his 
 return was still delayed ; and he especially enjoined 
 upon them to engage in no general action until he re- 
 turned. The commanders, therefore, merely relieved 
 the castles of Kelso, Roxburgh, and Berwick, w^hich 
 had been threatened by Wallace ; and then, keeping 
 a small force by them, dismissed the bulk of the army 
 to their homes. Of Wallace, during these operations, 
 we hear nothing. When there was no English army 
 to oppose him, he had boldly crossed the border : but 
 now English troops were marching through various 
 parts of Scotland, and nothing is heard of the in- 
 surgent leader. 
 
 Tt was not until the 21st of March that Edward 
 landed at Sandwich, where he was received with 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 261 
 
 great acclamations, — all men feeling that on his sa- 
 gacity, judgment, and military talent, the peace and 
 safety of the whole state, at that moment, greatly de- 
 pended. His first step on landing was to remember 
 his promise. He had assured his people, in the de- 
 claration which he had issued just before his depar- 
 ture, that for any wrongs done, or goods taken, by 
 his officers or purveyors, for the service of the war, 
 he would make them full amends. Without any 
 delay, therefore, he directed commissions to issue 
 to two knights and two churchmen in each county, 
 one of each to be named by the crown, and the other 
 by the people, who were to inquire in each district 
 what goods had been taken by the royal purveyors 
 for victualling the king's fleet or army. These com- 
 missions were issued in the first week in April, — that 
 is, immediately after the king's landing. 
 
 The next step was, to send out, on the 10th of 
 the same month, summonses for a parliament to be 
 held at York in Whitsun week. These summonses 
 were promptly obeyed. A great meeting took place ; 
 and the two earls, Hereford and Norfolk, desired 
 again to open the question of the charters. Nothing 
 clearly could be more absurd than, with Scotland in 
 revolt before them, to enter upon a series of angry 
 political discussions. The king very wisely refused 
 to go into such questions at that moment ; but he 
 empowered the earls of Gloucester, Warrenne, and 
 Warwick, and the bishop of Durham, to pledge his 
 honor, and their own, that, so soon as Scotland was 
 quieted, he, the king, would do all in his power to 
 give them satisfaction. These four mediators suc- 
 ceeded in pacifying Hereford and Norfolk; and, ac- 
 cordingly, arrangements were easily made for a 
 
262 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 military rendezvous at Eoxburgh on the 25tli of 
 June. 
 
 Wallace liacl now been lost sight of in England 
 for more than half a year. The ravaged districts of 
 the north were resuming their former appearance ; 
 and the excitement caused by the Scottish atrocities 
 had begun to subside. Still, however, on the second 
 summons, the English again shewed their eagerness 
 to inflict a suitable punishment on the aggressors ; 
 and, on the appointed day, 80,000 infantry assembled 
 around their king ; while the cavalry were now aug- 
 mented to 7,000 men, of whom 3,000 were in 
 full armour. This muster, of men coming from their 
 homes and avocations, just when the harvest-time de- 
 manded all the available labor of the country, is as 
 remarkable as that of the preceding January. 
 
 Wallace, meanwhile, had taken an unwise step. 
 At some petty meeting of the very few leading men 
 who adhered to him, — the names of the earl of Lennox 
 and sir William Douglas being the only ones men- 
 tioned, — he had procured himself to be appointed 
 " guardian of Scotland." Such an assumption, with- 
 out the concurrence of any considerable proportion of 
 the earls, barons, and knights of Scotland, was clearly 
 unjustifiable ; and it naturally tended to widen the 
 breach which already existed between this new leader, 
 whose name was still but of yesterday, and the great 
 men of the land, who, even more than in England, 
 deemed themselves entitled to direct the nation's 
 course. And it is admitted by all historians, Scottish 
 as well as English, that " the great majority of the 
 nobles were against him*." This may have arisen, in 
 
 * r 
 
 Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 142, 147, 152. 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 263 ^ 
 
 many cases, from a proper regard for their recorded 
 oaths, now scarcely twelve months old ; or, in others, 
 from the meaner sentiment of offended pride. But, 
 however this might be, it is quite certain that, from 
 first to last, Wallace never was entitled to speak in 
 the name of Scotland. 
 
 Having disgusted, then, most of the great men of 
 Scotland^ and being left to the poor resource of en- 
 listing all the "men of desperate fortunes," and of 
 obtaining supplies by hanging up burgesses, we can- 
 not wonder that Wallace took the prudent, and, in 
 fact, inevitable course, of retiring before the English 
 army, wasting everything in his retreat. By leaving 
 the country utterly bare of any living thing, he left 
 the English in the dark also as to his movements and 
 his position. Edward marched onwards, through 
 Berwickshire, to Lauder and Templeliston. The castle 
 of Dirleston was taken, and two smaller forts ; but 
 provisions grew more and more scarce ; and it was 
 rumoured that the Welsh in his army were ready to 
 mutiny. "Let them," said Edward, with his usual cool 
 courage ; — " let them go over to the enemy. I hope 
 to see the day when I shall chastise them both." 
 This day, however, was to all appearance distant. 
 No intelligence had been received of the Scottish 
 army. As the English advanced, the country had 
 been wasted by an invisible hand, and Edward was at 
 length compelled to issue orders for a retreatf. 
 
 But at this critical moment, the dislike of the 
 Scottish nobles to Wallace saved the English army 
 from the impending failure. Two Scottish lords, the 
 earl of Dunbar and the earl of Angus, while they 
 
 * See Appendix L t Tytler, vol. i., p. 155. 
 
264 WALLETS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 shrank from personally appearing in the matter, sent 
 intelligence to Edward b}^ a page, that the Scottish 
 army was encamped in the forest of Falkirk. They 
 added, that it was Wallace's intention to attempt a 
 surprise by a night-attack ; and if the English re- 
 treated, to hang upon and harass their rear. 
 
 Edward, on hearing this welcome news, could 
 not conceal his joy : — "Thanks be to God !" he ex- 
 claimed, " who hath hitherto extricated me from every 
 danger ! They shall not need to follow me, for I will 
 instantly go to meet them." Without a moment's 
 delay, orders were issued to prepare for the march. 
 At three o'clock the whole army was on its advance, 
 astonished at the sudden change in its operations. It 
 was late before they reached a heath near Linlithgow, 
 on which they encamped for the night. " Each 
 soldier," says Hemingford, "slept on the ground, 
 using his shield for his pillow ; — each horseman had 
 his horse beside him, and the horses tasted nothing 
 but cold iron, champing their bridles." In the 
 middle of the night a cry was heard. The king, who 
 slept on the heath, while a page held his horse, was 
 awakened by a sudden stroke on his side. The page 
 had been careless, and the horse in changing his 
 position, had put his foot on the king while he slept. 
 Those around him cried out that the king was wounded, 
 and this, in the confusion of the night, spread an 
 alarm. But Edward had been only slightly hurt, and 
 as the morning was near, he soon mounted his horse, 
 and gave orders to march. They passed through 
 Linlithgow a little before sunrise; and on a rising 
 ground, a little distance before them, they saw the 
 ridge of the ]]ill lined with lances. Not a moment 
 was lost. Their columns marched up the hill ; but 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 265 
 
 on reaching it, the enemy had disappeared. These 
 lances had been the advanced guard of the enemy, 
 and soon the English army could see the Scots in 
 the distance, arranging their lines and preparing for 
 battled 
 
 Wallace, aware of his inferiority of force, would 
 gladly have avoided an engagement, but this was 
 now impossible. A retreat in the face of 7,000 horse 
 would have been a ruinous step. He therefore made 
 the best arrangement in his power. He had a large 
 body of infantry armed with the long Scottish lance. 
 These were formed into four squares or " schiltrons," 
 and presented a front which seemed truly formidable. 
 In the intervals were posted the archers ; while 1,000 
 horse, in heavy armour, waited in the rear, until au 
 opportunity for a charge should occur. 
 
 The king, always prudent, having now made an 
 engagement secure, proposed to give his army time 
 for rest and refreshments ; but the ardour of the 
 soldiers and their leaders would brook no delay. 
 "^ An immediate onset" was the universal cry. "In 
 God's name, then, be it so," said the king ; and, 
 without delay, the earl marshal, and the earls of 
 Hereford and Lincoln, led their troops forward. 
 They soon found a marsh between them and the 
 Scottish army, and were obliged to diverge to the 
 left to avoid it. The second line, under Anthony 
 Beck, inclined to the right ; he wished to wait for the 
 arrival of the king, who brought up the third line, 
 but the eagerness of his men could not be restrained. 
 They soon came into contact with the Scots on one 
 flank, while the first line assailed the other. And no 
 
 =:■ Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 157. 
 
266 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 sooner had lances crossed each other, than the whole 
 body of the Scottish cavalry rode off the field with- 
 out striking a blow. Whether treachery, or dislike 
 of Wallace, or terror at the superior strength of the 
 English army, were the cause, it is certain that this 
 desertion at the commencement of a battle is one of 
 the most disgraceful facts in Scottish history. The 
 only hypothesis which relieves the fact from some of 
 its odiousuess, is, that Wallace must have recruited 
 his army by force and terror. 
 
 The Scottish infantry, however, stood their ground 
 manfully ; and no mere charge of spears could break 
 their solid masses. But Edward was at no loss how 
 to deal with them. He ordered up his bowmen, 
 every one of whom was used to boast, that he carried 
 twelve Scottish lives in his quiver. Under their cease- 
 less and destructive discharge, the formidable "schil- 
 trons " soon fell into disorder. The death-shafts 
 encumbered the ranks with dying men, and filled the 
 squares with crowds of the wounded and the dead. 
 Soon their ranks became unsteady, and the heavy, 
 armour-clad English cavalry came thundering in, and 
 swept everything away. Wallace and a few of his 
 men gained the neighbouring wood. Sir John Stew- 
 art and Macduff had fallen, and Mr. Tytler reckons 
 that from 10,000 to 15,000 Scots lay dead on the 
 field. The statement everywhere made, and univer- 
 sally believed in England at the time, was, that the 
 loss of the Scotch was 32,000, while of the English no 
 more than twenty-eight were slain. This assertion 
 at first sight appears incredible ; but if we recollect 
 that the Scotch cavalry fled the field and left the 
 7,000 English horse in possession of it; and that the 
 dense masses of the Scottish infantry were first deci- 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 267 
 
 mated by the English bowmen, and then broken, 
 hewed down, and followed in their flight by a nume- 
 rous body of cavalry, we shall easily understand, 
 that very few battles have ever been fought, in 
 which, of necessity, the loss of the beaten army 
 would be so great, or the casualties on the side of 
 the victors so insignificant. 
 
 So ended the career, — the active life,~of William 
 Wallace. He had risen into celebrity and power by 
 the victory of Stirling in September 1297 ; and he 
 fell into utter disgrace and contempt by his defeat at 
 Falkirk in July 1298. Yet, as a military leader, he 
 deserved neither any considerable amount of praise 
 for the one, nor much censure for the other. So 
 enormous was the blunder committed by the English 
 general at Stirling, that the merest tyro in war could 
 scarcely have failed to discomfit him. While, on the 
 other hand, overmatched in numbers, deserted by 
 the whole body of his cavalry, and opposed by the 
 ablest commander of the age, Wallace's defeat at Fal- 
 kirk might be considered to be inevitable. The only 
 remark in his personal disparagement which it seems 
 fair to make, is this : — that although himself a soldier 
 of great bodily puissance, and placed in circum- 
 stances calculated to draw forth all his powers, we 
 do not discern in his conduct, either at Stirling or 
 at Falkirk, any token of that talent in command, or 
 that valour in personal achievement, which are usually 
 deemed inseparable from the character of a hero. 
 
 The Scotch retreated from Falkirk to Stirling, 
 and, pursuing the same policy as before, they burnt 
 that town before they quitted it. A Dominican con- 
 vent, however, was left standing, and here Edward 
 remained for fifteen days, to recover from the effects 
 
268 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 of the hurt in his side. This delay, in a commander 
 of so much activity, gives some probability to the 
 statement of two or three of the chroniclers, that two 
 ribs had been broken by the horse's tread. Recom- 
 mencing his march, after this period of rest, the king 
 reached St. Andrew's and Perth. But Wallace, with 
 the recklessness of a desperate man, continued to 
 destroy and desolate every place which the English 
 approached. Neither shelter nor supplies were any- 
 where to be obtained. Edward, therefore, after march- 
 ing through Fife, and Clydesdale, and Lanark, and 
 Galloway, and finding no enemy or any occupation 
 for his army, gradually returned through Selkirk- 
 shire towards Carlisle, which city he reached in 
 September, and where he dismissed to their homes 
 the greater part of his army. The earl marshal and 
 the constable were again discontented, because the 
 king had made a grant of the isle of Arran to a 
 Scotch nobleman, without consulting them. But at 
 Durham, in the autumn, he held a council, in which 
 he granted to some of the English nobles the estates 
 of those Scottish lords who had taken any part in 
 the late disturbances. After this, most of the leadins: 
 personages seem to have repaired to their own homes. 
 The news of the victory of Falkirk had spread 
 throughout England, and the people rejoiced that the 
 insults and barbarities of 1297 had been thus avenged. 
 Old Stowe, the chronicler, says : — " The citizens of 
 London, hearing of the great victory obtained by the 
 king over the Scots, made great and solemn triumph 
 in their citie." Among other celebrations he espe- 
 cially notices that of the fishmongers, who, " in grand 
 and solemn procession, passed through the city, 
 having, among other pageants, four sturgeons gilded, 
 
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 269; 
 
 carried on four horses ; then four salmons of silver, 
 on four horses ; and after these, six-and-forty knights, 
 armed, riding on horses made like luces of the sea* ; 
 and lastly, St. Magnus, with a thousand horsemen. 
 Thus did they, on St. Magnus' day, in honour of the 
 king's great victory and safe return." 
 
 "Wallace," meanwhile, says Mr. Tytler, "soon 
 after the defeat of Falkirk, voluntarily resigned the 
 office of guardian of Scotland ;" — an office, we must 
 add, to which he had never been in any legitimate 
 way appointed, and his pretensions to which were an 
 offence to the whole nobility of Scotland. "The 
 Comyns," adds Mr. T., " threatened to impeach him 
 for treason, for his conduct during the war ; and the 
 Bruces united with their rivals to put him downf." 
 " His name does not occur in any authentic record, 
 as bearing even a secondary command ; nor do we 
 meet with him in any public transaction," until his 
 trial and execution seven years afterwards. 
 
 This accusation of treason has no appearance of 
 probability about it, nor has the slightest ground for 
 such a charge ever been shewn. But still, in the 
 simultaneous and total desertion of Wallace by all 
 Scotland, there is something which will bear only 
 one interpretation. In the summer of 1297, multi- 
 tudes of those who disliked the English rule flocked 
 around him ; and his strength continually increased, 
 until, in three or four months, he stood at the 
 head of an army. But now, having lost one battle, 
 which, under the circumstances, no commander in 
 Europe could have gained, he is utterly cast off 
 by the whole of the Scottish people. A sort of smoul- 
 
 * A kind of fish. f Tytler, vol. i., p. 165. 
 
270 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 
 
 dering warfare was kept up in Scotland for four 
 or five years after this, in which it seems probable 
 that Wallace's talents as a guerilla-chief might have 
 been available ; but not once do we hear of him as 
 leading even a score of men. When he escaped over 
 to France to seek the aid of Philip, his followers 
 were "five soldiers." And during all these years, 
 in which opportunities of distinguishing himself must 
 have abounded, not one single deed of daring is men- 
 tioned as having been performed by him. One thing, 
 however, is clear, amidst all this obscurity, namely, 
 that, whatever wandering minstrels may have done 
 to magnify his fame in after ages, the people of Scot- 
 land, between 1298 and 1305, were quite unconscious 
 of the presence of a " hero " among them. 
 
CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH. 
 
 AFFAIKS IN SCOTLAND.— PAPAL INTEEFEEENCE.— 
 PAELIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 A.D. 1299—1302. 
 
 Wallace had now been thrown back into his 
 original obscurity, but the state of confusion which 
 he had introduced into Scotland could not be so 
 easily terminated. By a system of ruthless massacre, 
 and by establishing a "reign of terror," he had driven 
 all Englishmen out of the midland and northern dis- 
 tricts, and had left in their possession only some few 
 castles in the southern part of the kingdom. And 
 then, when Edward came into Scotland to restore 
 order, he found all the southern counties so stripped 
 and desolated, as to render it impossible to maintain 
 an army in them. The king, therefore, withdrawing, 
 and Wallace being now utterly disgraced, it followed, 
 not unnaturally, that a sort of temporary regency 
 sprang up in Scotland, consisting of Comyn, Soulis, 
 and one or two others. And these leaders, although 
 they had all sworn fealty to Edward in 1296, did not 
 hesitate, in 1299 or 1300, to hold Scotland against 
 him, and to send both to France and to Rome to ask 
 for help, to deprive him of that sovereignty which 
 they themselves, only a year or two before, had 
 unanimously promised to defend. 
 
 Had England, however, been united and at peace, 
 
272 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 the king would have found little difficulty in restoring 
 Scotland to a state of order. But, on all sides, 
 during the next two years, there arose questions 
 needing adjustment. There was a truce, leading to 
 a peace, with Philip of France ; but the peace itself 
 was not yet concluded : there was an arbitration 
 before the pope, upon which the restoration of Gas- 
 cony depended ; but Gascony was not yet restored : 
 and, amidst all, there was a restless agitation kept 
 up by the two earls, and secretly fomented by Win- 
 ch elsey, for the double purposes of limiting the king's 
 power of taxation, and of reducing the lands and 
 domains of the crown. 
 
 One or two of our historians, — more especially 
 Hume, — have thrown much obscurity on these dis- 
 cussions " on the charters," by omitting to explain, 
 with any clearness, the real nature of the points at 
 issue. They leave it to be supposed, or inferred, that 
 Edward disliked the obligations of Magna Charta ; 
 and would willingly have thrown off all respect for 
 its provisions. Yet there could scarcely be a greater 
 misrepresentation. The whole tendency of his legis- 
 lation, during five-and-twenty years, had been to en- 
 large and improve that great contract, and to turn it 
 into statute-law. De Lolme remarks of Magna Charta, 
 that " it had only one article calculated for the in- 
 terests of that body which was the most numerous in 
 the kingdom." It was, in fact, nothing more than a 
 great compact, devised by the barons and Langton 
 their leader, for the security of their own rights and 
 possessions against the encroachments of the crown. 
 But Edward's legislation, from the beginning, had 
 taken a far wider range. His statutes were made, 
 freely and voluntarily, " for the common weal, and 
 
AFFAIES IN SCOTLAND. 273 
 
 for the remedy of all that were aggrieved^ Of his 
 first great Statute of Westminster lord Campbell 
 says, — " It enforces the enactments of Magna Charta 
 against excessive fines ; it enumerates and corrects 
 the abuses of tenures, and the marriage of wards ; it 
 regulates the levying of tolls ; it corrects and re- 
 strains the powers of the king's escheator ; and it 
 amends the criminal law." Thus Edward's views 
 always went far beyond Magna Charta ; and to de- 
 scribe him as being, at heart, unfaithful to that com- 
 pact, is, indeed, to carry injustice to the highest con- 
 ceivable extent. 
 
 The two objects which the constable and marshal 
 had in view, were, first, to deprive the king of that 
 power which all his predecessors had enjoyed, of 
 levying, in time of urgent necessity, " prises and tal- 
 liages," without consulting his parliament. This was 
 a most desirable step for the people ; but it involved 
 a great concession on the part of the crown. Their 
 second object was, to reduce the limits of the royal for- 
 ests. Of this we shall speak in a subsequent chapter. 
 
 Having all these matters before him, Edward 
 summoned a parliament to meet in Westminster 
 in the beginning of Lent, 1299. The first business 
 which was brought before it, was the award of pope 
 Boniface, to whose arbitration the two kings had 
 agreed to submit their disputes. Boniface had made 
 his award ; and although it does not appear that the 
 parliament had any grant to make, or other duty to 
 perform in this matter, still the king chose to lay that 
 award before his parliament. We here again perceive 
 that same willingness, which is so often manifested in 
 the course of Edward's life, to take counsel, — to 
 discuss all public matters in a parliament ; and, in 
 
 T 
 
274 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 fact, to carry on bis government very nearly as it is 
 carried on at tlie present clay. 
 
 The pope had ordained, as a final settlement of 
 the disputes between the kings of England and of 
 France : — That there should be a firm and stable 
 peace between these two sovereigns ; and hence, that 
 the cessation of hostilities between the two, which 
 was provided by the late truce, should continue and 
 be inviolably observed : that king Edward should 
 marry Margaret, the sister of the king of France, 
 and his son the prince of Wales, Isabel, the daughter 
 of the same king : that all lands, territories, and 
 goods, should be restored to their former owners : 
 and that compensation should be made for such as 
 had been destroyed. 
 
 This award was read and approved in parliament. 
 And now the two earls brought forward, once more, 
 their demand for a new confirmation of the charters, 
 and for a perambulation of the forests. This last 
 item, as we shall have occasion in a future chapter to 
 observe, was the real object which Hereford and 
 Norfolk had in view. The king granted the confirma- 
 tion ; but with the addition of the words " salvo jure 
 coroncey This proviso displeased the earls, and 
 they left the parliament in auger. Really desiring 
 to content them, the king summoned another par- 
 liament after Easter ; in which he withdrew this 
 qualifying clause, and granted the confirmation unre- 
 servedly. 
 
 This reservation of the rights of the crown is 
 spoken of by one or two writers, as if it betokened some 
 insincerity or equivocation on Edward's part. Such 
 an imputation can only arise from not remarking one 
 peculiar feature in his character. He was always 
 
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 276 
 
 cautious not to infringe on the rights of others ; but 
 he was equally cautious not to surrender his own. 
 He never for one moment forgot, that he was merely 
 tenant for life of the crown of England, and it was a 
 matter of constant care with him, to do nothing 
 whereby the prerogatives of that crown might be 
 impaired. At every step, therefore, we find him, 
 throughout his long and eventful reign, avowing his 
 determination to give up none of the ancient rights of 
 the crown. It was on this ground that he carried 
 his army, first into Wales, and then into Scotland ; 
 because he believed that as king he was entitled to 
 the homage both of Wales and of Scotland ; and that, 
 to neglect to assert that right, would be to abate 
 somewhat of the power and majesty of the crown 
 of England. Of his ceaseless care on this point, the 
 proofs meet us in every page of his history. Thus, in 
 his first great statute, which was an immense boon to 
 the people of England, he closes with the following 
 words : — "And forasmuch as the king hath ordained 
 these things to the honor of God and holy church ; 
 and for the common weal ; and for the remedy of 
 such as be aggrieved, — he would not that at any other 
 time it should turn to the prejudice of himself or his 
 crown ; but that such rights as appertain to him 
 should be saved in all points ^ In like manner, when 
 deciding the question of the Scottish succession, he 
 calls to mind that he himself is descended from a 
 princess of Scotland ; and he declares, " that John 
 Baliol ought to have seizin of the kingdom of Scot- 
 land j reserving, however, the right of the crown of 
 England, whenever he or his heirs shall see fit to 
 assert it." And, in the same spirit, we find him, at 
 the parliament of Lincoln, in 1 301, desiring those who 
 
 t3 
 
276 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 attended it, to settle the perambulation-question " so 
 that their oaths and the oath of the king relating to 
 the rights of the crown maybe saved." Thus we see 
 that it was, in his view, a point of duty, to be kept 
 constantly in memory, that " the rights of the crown" 
 should not, by any remissness on his part, suffer any 
 diminution. 
 
 The treaty with France had now been signed, and 
 measures were in progress for carrying it into effect ; 
 when Edward was surprised by receiving a new appli- 
 cation from Philip, in the spring of this year, 1299, 
 demanding the release of Baliol and his son. Edward 
 at first postponed the question, but finally referred 
 it to the pope's decision ; and in July, Baliol was put 
 into the hands of the bishop of Yicenza, Boniface's 
 representative, at Witsand, near Calais ; Edward 
 expressly providing, that the pope might do as he 
 liked with the ex-king ; but that with the realm of 
 Scotland, and the people thereof, he should not 
 meddle, either on behalf of Baliol or his heirs, or for 
 any cause whatsoever. Edward, probably, was the 
 more willing to consent to Baliol' s release and depar- 
 ture, inasmuch as the latter had recently, of his own 
 accord, declared, not only his renunciation of the 
 kingdom of Scotland, but also his determination never 
 again to set foot in a country "in which he had 
 experienced so much malice, fraud, treason, and 
 deceit*." 
 
 Another point urged by Philip was, that the 
 Scotch should be allowed a truce for seven months ; 
 and Edward, remembering his other engagements, 
 consented to this intermission of hostilities. One 
 
 ♦ " Malitiam, fraudem, proditioneni, et dolum." — Brady, App. N. 37. 
 
APFAIES IN SCOTLAND. 277 
 
 business which he had no desire to postpone, for war, 
 or any other occupation, was, his own union with the 
 princess Margaret of France. The loss of his beloved 
 Eleanor had left a void in his home-circle which he 
 had long been anxious to fill. Peter Langtoft writes, 
 of a period two or three years earlier than this, 
 that, on returning home from one of his journeys to 
 Scotland, — 
 
 " On fell things he thought, and wext heavie as lead ; 
 How chances 'gainst him foiighte ; and that his queen was dead; 
 His solace all was 'reft, that she from him was gone." 
 
 And it was not long after this before he began to 
 make enquiries ; first, as to the princess Blanche, and 
 then, as to her sister Marguerite, of France. 
 
 The princess was brought over by the duke of 
 Bourgogne, landing at Dover on the 8th of September, 
 1299, and the marriage was celebrated on the 10th, 
 in Canterbury Cathedral, — the archbishop officiating. 
 A large number of foreign, as well as of the English, 
 nobility, were present. The new queen, like her 
 predecessor, seems to have been entirely devoted to 
 her great consort. Like Eleanor, even in war, she 
 was usually near to the king, and his attentions to 
 her were unremitting. Thus, of the Scottish cam- 
 paign of 1301, Peter Langtoft writes, — 
 
 " The queen Margaret then with child was she ; 
 
 The king bade her not stay, but come to the north countrye ; 
 To Brotherton on Wharfe, and there she was 
 The mother of a son, the child hight Thomas ; 
 And when the king heard say she had so well faren. 
 Thither he went away, to see her and her bairn. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The queen, with her son, at Cawood leaves he ; 
 To them, on the Ouse, full often came he." 
 
278 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 A month or two seems to have been given to this 
 celebration ; but Edward had not forgotten that he 
 had castles and friends in Scotland needing his aid ; 
 or that the truce stipulated for by Philip would soon 
 expire. He issued, accordingly, writs to his military 
 tenants, calling upon them to meet him, with horse 
 and arms, at York, on the 10th of November. There 
 his principal barons met him at the time appointed ; 
 and he moved on to Berwick, intending to march to 
 the relief of Stirling Castle, which was now pressed 
 by the forces of the regents, and had sent to him for 
 aid. But the ardour of the king was greater than that 
 of his followers. They disliked a Scotch campaign 
 in the months of December and January, and so 
 strongly represented the difficulties and the perils of 
 a winter march, that Edward was obliged to yield to 
 their objections, and to allow the garrison of Stirling 
 to capitulate. 
 
 Early in the year 1.300 the king again met his 
 parlian^ent in Westminster. A new and extensive 
 Statute on the Charters was here proposed and 
 adopted. It enacted, that the charters should be 
 published by the sheriffs of all counties four times 
 in each year. It ordained that "no prises" should 
 be taken within the realm, save only by the king's 
 takers or purveyors ; and that these should be bound 
 to exhibit the king's warrant, and to pay or make 
 agreement with those from whom the things were 
 taken. It also made other good and desirable regu- 
 lations, all tending to give greater security to property, 
 against violence or illegal conduct on the part of men 
 in office. In this parliament, as well as previously 
 in that of 1299, urgent demands were made for a 
 new perambulation of the forests ; and the king 
 
ATFAIES IN SCOTLAND. 279 
 
 promised to take measures for the accomplishment 
 of that object ; which promise he faithfully kept. 
 
 And now, as the spring advanced, the king pre- 
 pared for another march into Scotland ; reaching the 
 border, this year, at an earlier period of the summer 
 than on most of his former expeditions. The Scotch 
 had now learnt the simple and generally effectual 
 device, of retiring on the approach of the English 
 army, without offering battle. Edward besieged and 
 took Lochmaben Castle, and then proceeded to Caerla- 
 verock, on the Solway-Frith. This castle also capitu- 
 lated on the second day. An account of this brief 
 siege, in Norman-French, from the pen of an eye- 
 witness, is among the Cotton MSS. in the British 
 Museum. It is supposed by sir Harris Nicholas to 
 be the work of Walter of Exeter, a Franciscan friar, 
 who is believed to have written the history of Guy, 
 earl of Warwick, in 1292. The- garrison, he tells, us, 
 threw themselves on the king's mercy. "They were 
 kept and guarded, till the king commanded that life 
 and limb should be given them ; and also ordered 
 that each of them should have a new garment." 
 
 From Caerlaverock the king marched on to Gallo- 
 way, where the bishop of that place came to speak 
 of peace. It was not Edward's wont to treat with 
 rebels with arms in their hands ; but it seems pro- 
 bable that he gave the bishop a safe-conduct for 
 John Comyn and the earl of Buchan ; inasmuch as 
 we find that these nobles, on the part, probably, of 
 the regency, had an interview with him at this period. 
 They rather absurdly proposed, that he should let 
 them have John Baliol back again, as king; and 
 should restore the forfeited estates on payment of 
 reasonable fines. Now, Baliol, when he was actually 
 
280 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 their king, was imprisoned by them in order that they 
 might rule without him ; and he, Baliol himself, had 
 recently declared, that he would never again set foot 
 in a land which had treated him with " so much 
 malice, treason, and deceit." And they made this 
 proposal to a sovereign to whom they had taken, 
 more than once, oaths of allegiance ; and whose army 
 they feared, at that very time, to meet in the open 
 field. And upon what pretence, on what rational 
 ground, could they make such an application ? It 
 was but some three or four years before, that all the 
 nobles and gentry of Scotland had thronged around 
 Edward, to offer him their homage as king of Scot- 
 land. And what had he done, since 1296, to forfeit 
 their allegiance ? Had his rule been tyrannical ? 
 Let the Scottish historians bear witness. " His con- 
 duct," says lord Hailes, " in all things bore the sem- 
 blance of moderation." " The measures he adopted," 
 says Mr. Tytler, " were equally politic and just. No 
 wanton or unnecessary act of rigour was committed ; 
 no capricious changes introduced*." On the whole, 
 this singular request, preferred to a victorious general 
 at the head of his army, — that he would quietly re- 
 linquish all the fruits of his victories, seems one of the 
 most irrational of the measures of the Scottish leaders. 
 The king naturally parted from Comyn and the 
 earl in anger, and marched to Irvine, where he 
 waited for the arrival of his supplies by sea. The 
 Scottish army shewed itself on the opposite side of 
 the river ; but on preparations being made for an 
 attack, it fled to the mountains and morasses. The 
 king then fixed his head-quarters at Dumfries, and 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 121-122. 
 
PAPAL IXTERFEKE>'CE, 281 
 
 employed himself in taking possession of the towns 
 and castles of Galloway, and receiving the submission 
 of the inhabitants of that district. 
 
 But now a fresh obstacle arose to an immediate 
 settlement of the affairs of Scotland. The regents, 
 as they were called, — Comyn, Soulis, and the bishop 
 of St. Andrew's, — had, as we have already remarked, 
 taken measures to solicit the interposition both of the 
 king of France and of the pope. Walsingham, him- 
 self a Benedictine monk of St. Alban's, writes, that 
 "about the beginning of this year, 1300, the Scotch, 
 knowing all things to be saleable at Rome, sent over 
 rich presents to the pope," praying him to interfere 
 in their behalf, and to stop the king of England in 
 his proceedings against them. Such applications 
 were generally successful at Eome, especially when, 
 — as in the present instance, — they gave the papal 
 court an opportunity for the assertion of some new 
 claim. A mandate was, therefore, sent over to 
 England, and consigned to the care of Winchelsey 
 the primate, who was charged with its delivery to the 
 king in person ; which mandate desired the king to 
 abstain from all further proceedings against the realm 
 of Scotland; which realm, — said pope Boniface, — 
 " did, and doth still, belong in fall right to the church 
 of Rome.'" Such a pretension, now for the first time 
 advanced, might, and doubtless did, appear to all 
 parties to savor of audacity : but Boniface well knew 
 that he might advance it without fear. He had been, 
 and still was, the umpire between Edward and Philip. 
 The questions placed before him had not been 
 finally decided, and Gascony was not yet actually 
 restored. Hence, he knew full well, that however 
 indignant Edward might feel, his practical sagacity 
 
282 PAPAL INTERFERENCE. 
 
 would prevent him from actually defying the Roman 
 see. For a certain " consideration," the pope had 
 promised to do the Scotch a certain service, and 
 that compact he thus observed, caring little about 
 the validity of the pleas advanced, which were only 
 intended to serve the purposes of the hour. 
 
 In Winchelsey the pope found a prompt and 
 willing agent. This able and artful prelate was 
 always forward in any scheme for exalting the power 
 of the church, and reducing that of the crown. He 
 therefore very naturally undertook the commission 
 assigned to him with evident pleasure; and his letter to 
 the pope, recounting his zealous labors, in obedience 
 to the papal instructions, is a most edifying docu- 
 ment. He writes to Boniface, that, immediately on 
 receiving his mandate, he prepared his baggage and 
 carriages, and money for his expenses, and set forth 
 to deliver the pontifical mandate to his lord the king, 
 who was then twenty days' journey from the place 
 where he, Winchelsey, received the papal instructions. 
 He then recounts the difiiculties of the journey, and 
 finally states, that he arrived in the presence of the 
 king, who was then in the midst of his army, and at 
 dinner. The king, he adds, was too much occupied 
 with business to receive him that day, but appointed 
 him an audience on the next day at noon. 
 
 Winchelsey, in proceeding to give an account of 
 this audience, omits one characteristic incident which 
 is related by Walsingham. The archbishop, on being 
 introduced to the king, according to his appointment, 
 first read, and presented, the papal mandate. But to 
 manifest his zeal still further, he proceeded to give 
 the king, in addition, some admonitions of his own, 
 garnished with certain flowers of ecclesiastical rhe- 
 
PAPAL INTERFERENCE. 283 
 
 toric, which, to a clear-sighted and plain-spokea man 
 like Edward, must have been peculiarly nauseous. 
 He counselled the king to yield a prompt and entire 
 obedience to the commands of the Holy Father, inas- 
 much as " Jerusalem would not fail to protect her 
 citizens, and to cherish, like Mount Zion, those who 
 trusted in the Lord." To which Edward replied, with 
 evident disdain, that " neither ^ Mount Zion' nor 
 * Jerusalem ' should prevent him from maintaining 
 what all the world knew to be his right." At the 
 same time, having regard to the peculiar nature of the 
 application, and to the dignity of the pontiff, he first 
 desired the archbishop to retire while he consulted 
 his nobles, and then, recalling him, gave him, by the 
 lips of his chancellor, a more formal reply : — " That, 
 since it is the custom of England, that in such matters 
 as relate to the state of that kingdom, advice should 
 be had with all whom they may concern ; and since 
 the present business not only affects the state of 
 Scotland, but the rights of England also ; and since 
 many prelates, barons, and other principal men are 
 now absent ; it is my purpose, as soon as possible, to 
 hold a council with my nobility, and by their joint 
 advice and determination, to transmit an answer to 
 his holiness by messengers of my own." 
 
 The archbishop, in his report to the pope, is glad 
 to be able to add some tokens of the success of his 
 mission. He says, " T afterward heard that my lord 
 the king, within four days after my departure, return- 
 ed with his army into England ; and his forces being 
 dispersed, he purposes to stay at a certain abbey 
 called Holme Cultram, on the border. And thus have 
 I reverently executed your commission in every re- 
 spect, with all the diligence that I was able to use." 
 
284 PAPAL INTERFERENCE. 
 
 We have already stated, that from the peculiar 
 position of his affairs, it would have been most unde- 
 sirable for Edward to have any positive quarrel with 
 Boniface rt this moment. The negotiations for peace, 
 which had been carried on for two or three years 
 past, were still unconcluded. Treaties had been 
 signed ; but other treaties were still under discus- 
 sion. The decision of many important points was 
 still in Boniface's hands. Hence, to have dealt 
 with the question in a prompt and peremptory 
 manner, might have driven the pope into Philip's 
 hands, and have thrown many important questions 
 into the greatest confusion. Edward, therefore, 
 could only deal with the new papal claim in a re- 
 spectful and temperate manner. He restored the 
 bishop of Glasgow to his see, on his taking a new 
 oath of fealty to him and his successors, kings of 
 England. He complied with a request of Philip's, 
 and granted the Scots a new truce, until the Whit- 
 suntide of 1301 ; and he issued writs, summoning a 
 parliament to meet at Lincoln on the 20th of January 
 of that year. Before that parliament he proposed to 
 lay the letter or monition of Boniface ; and to that 
 parliament he also desired reports to be brought by 
 the commissioners appointed to inquire into the 
 boundaries of the forests. He also sent letters to the 
 two universities, and to the principal religious houses, 
 desiring them to send to Lincoln some of their most 
 learned men, with copies of any archives or other 
 records which might be in their possession, bearing 
 upon the questions agitated in the papal mandate. 
 Having thus taken every proper and expedient 
 measure for meeting this new attack upon his position, 
 the king retired to Northampton, where he spent the 
 
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN, 285 
 
 Christmas of 1300, surrounded by his queen and 
 family ; proposing early in the new year to remove to 
 Lincoln ; there to discuss and settle, if possible, both 
 the affairs of Scotland, and also that more domestic 
 question, — which had latterly assumed an almost 
 threatening aspect, " the perambulation of the royal 
 forests." 
 
 The parliament of Lincoln, a.d. 1301, deserves a 
 high place among the notable events of English 
 history. In it we find the parliamentary system 
 firmly established, in nearly all its present dimensions, 
 features, and characters. To its principal Act, — the 
 reply to pope Boniface, — we find appended the names 
 and seals of no fewer than one hundred and four earls 
 and barons ; and as the prelates, and the Scottish 
 barons, were, for obvious reasons, excused from taking 
 part in this proceeding, we may safely estimate the 
 attendance of the hio-her orders, or, what we now term 
 " the house of lords," at more than one hundred and 
 fifty. To this parliament, also, there were summoned 
 representatives from one hundred and thirty-seven 
 cities and boroughs. Probably, in the existing state 
 of society, these merchants and traders*, in the presence 
 of the great barons of the realm, were generally 
 modest and silent ; but we cannot imagine so large a 
 body of Englishmen, — many of them independent in 
 property and positiont, — executing a public trust in 
 a spirit of absolute subjection and passiveness. 
 
 * Samuel Stanham, a merchant and grocer in Lincoln, was 
 one of the representatives of that city in this parliament of 1301. 
 
 f The city of London, about this time, allcwed its four repre- 
 sentatives, for their joint expenses, out of the city cash, twenty 
 shillings per diem ; which would be equal to fifteen pounds daily, 
 at the present time. 
 
286 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 Lincoln, the scene of this great gathering, must 
 have presented a lively and singular spectacle in the 
 months of January and February 1301. The royal 
 court itself would have created a throng in any city 
 of the second class. But the splendid trains which 
 always attended the great barons and prelates must 
 have far exceeded, in the aggregate, the officers and 
 attendants on the court. And when to all these were 
 added some two or three hundred borough-represen- 
 tatives, all requiring both lodging and provisions, we 
 may feel sure that this city of the fens must have been 
 the scene of a turmoil, bustle, and commotion, which 
 none of its inhabitants were likely ever to forget. 
 Langtoft tells us, that — 
 
 " At the park afterwards his pai'liament set he, — 
 The good king Edward, at Lincoln his citie : 
 At St. Katherine's house the earl marshal lay ; 
 In the Broadgate lay the Bruce, erle was he that day; 
 The king lay at Xettleham ; it is the bishop's towne : 
 And other lords there cama, in the couutrie up and downe." 
 
 It probably would not be easy to ascertain how the 
 victualling of all these hundreds, or rather, thousands, 
 was accomplished ; or in what way it became an affair 
 of state. But the existing records shew, not only 
 that great provision was made beforehand ; but that 
 these matters were thought of by the king himself. 
 From Dumfries, in the previous October, the king, so 
 soon as he had determined on holding this parliament, 
 sent writs to the sheriff of Lincolnshire, enjoining him 
 many weeks beforehand, to provide, for the intended 
 meeting, four hundred quarters of corn, four hundred 
 quarters of barley, one thousand quarters of oats, and 
 hay for four hundred horses for a month. The sheriff 
 was also to provide one hundred cows and oxen ; one 
 
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 287 
 
 hundred pigs ; and three hundred sheep. And all 
 this was, distinctly, for the parliament ; while for the 
 royal household a separate order was given, of four 
 hundred quarters of corn, one hundred beeves, sixty 
 pigs, and four hundred sheep. The king was probably 
 able to procure the provender for his stables, by 
 orders addressed to some of his own tenantry. 
 
 As the time of meeting drew near, other necessary 
 matters were thought of. A writ, dated Worksop, 
 December 2, 1300, enjoins the sheriff to procure sixty 
 dozens of good parchment, for records of the matters 
 to be agreed upon. Other orders of the same kind 
 follow. Samuel Stanham, who was himself a repre- 
 sentative of the city of Lincoln, in this parliament, 
 had, at its close, a demand against the king's trea- 
 surer for 96/. 14s. 5r/. for sugars, figs, &c. ; and 
 for 54/. 10*. for fish. He also claims 6/. 16^. for 
 herrings and stock-fish supplied to prince Edward, 
 then scarcely seventeen years of age. Multiplying 
 these sums b}^ fifteen, for the altered value of money, 
 we shall perceive that they imply a liberal expendi- 
 ture in the royal establishments. 
 
 The parliament being opened in the accustomed 
 form, it appears that the two earls obtained precedence 
 for their favorite questions, — the perambulations and 
 the disafforesting. These topics, urged by the con- 
 stable and the marshal, — Winchelsey being their 
 prompter and secret adviser, — led to prolonged and 
 vehement debates. As these discussions form part 
 of the great disafi'oresting controversy, we shall pass 
 them over for the present, only observing that Ed- 
 ward's skill, firmness, and moderation were taxed to 
 the utmost on this occasion. He succeeded, however, 
 after many days of fierce debate, in calming the 
 
288 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 troubled waters, and bringing the parliament to a 
 practical result. What vv^ere termed " the reports of 
 the commissioners of perambulation " were adopted, 
 and orders for extensive disafforesting were given. 
 Thus pacified, the barons consented to a grant of a 
 fifteenth, to be paid by the feast of St. Michael next 
 ensuing. 
 
 And now, these internal dissensions being for a 
 time set at rest, the parliament took up the question 
 of pope Boniface's letter. Upon its audacious and 
 baseless claims, there seems to have been no difference 
 of opinion. Edward's law-officers, aided by all the 
 documentary evidence that could be discovered, had, 
 there can be no doubt, prepared a complete answer 
 to the papal assumptions ; but it was prudently 
 suggested, that in the king's present circumstances, 
 it was not desirable that he should appear as a 
 personal rejector and oppugner of the pontiff's pre- 
 tensions. Hence, doubtless, arose the idea of the plan 
 which was finally adopted. The whole array of the 
 barons of England stepped between the pope and 
 their king ; and told the pontiff, that he had asked 
 more than his right ; and that they could not permit 
 their sovereign, — even were he so inclined, — to sur- 
 render the rights or the dignity of the crown of 
 England. In this important document, — after first 
 denying the historical statements of the papal rescript, 
 and wholly rei)udiating the idea, that the kingdom of 
 Scotland had ever, in any way or manner, belonged to 
 the see of Rome, — they go on to deal with the ques- 
 tion, whether the king of England shall or may 
 appear before the papal tribunal, to defend his right, 
 or in any way to acknowledge the pope as an arbiter 
 
PAELIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 289 
 
 or judge in this matter. On this point, the hundred 
 and four barons thus express themselves : — 
 
 '^ By a custom which has always been inviolably 
 observed, a privilege arising from the pre-eminence of 
 the regal dignity, the kings of England have never 
 pleaded, or been bound to plead, respecting their 
 rights in the fore-mentioned kingdom, or any other 
 their temporal rights, before any judge, ecclesiastical 
 or secular. Wherefore, after discussion and delibera- 
 tion respecting the contents of your letters, it was our 
 common and unanimous resolve, and by the grace of 
 God shall for the future remain such, that with respect 
 to the rights of his kingdom of Scotland, or other his 
 temporal rights, our aforesaid lord the king shall not 
 plead before you, nor submit in any manner to your 
 judgment ; nor suffer his foresaid right to be brought 
 into question by any inquiry ; nor send agents or 
 procurators for that purpose into your presence. For 
 such proceedings would be to the manifest disherison 
 of the rights of the crown of England and the royal 
 dignity, the evident subversion of the state of the 
 kingdom, and the prejudice of the liberties, customs, 
 and laws, which we have inherited from our fathers, 
 — to the observance and defence of which we are 
 bound by our oaths ; and which we will maintain to 
 the best of our power ; and by the help of God will 
 defend with all our might. Neither do we, nor will 
 we, permit, — as we neither can nor ought, — our afore- 
 said lord the king to do, or attempt to do, even if he 
 wished it, the things before mentioned ; things so 
 unwarranted by custom or obligation, so prejudicial, 
 and otherwise so unheard of*." 
 
 * Eymer's Fcedera, vol. ii., p. 997. 
 
 U 
 
290 PAELIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 This was the substantial reply given to pope Boni- 
 face ; and it was a fitting and worthy reply. That 
 it was counselled and framed by the king's ministers 
 cannot be doubted; and we see in it a fresh proof 
 of that remarkable feature in Edward's character, — 
 his desire, at every step, to act in concert with his 
 people ; to move with them in every important step 
 which required to be taken. But to this, — the sub- 
 stantial reply, — Edward thought it wise and expedient 
 to add a private and friendly letter of his own. He 
 sent this second commnnication, as he expressly says, 
 "not in the form or shape of a judicial pleading," 
 but as an entirely unofficial communication from one 
 equal to another. Its object, both professedly and 
 really, was to obviate any possible ground of com- 
 plaint or aggrieved feeling. In this letter, the king 
 touched upon the chief points in the history of the 
 two countries ; — shewing, that a superiority had 
 existed, and that homage had been paid, from kings 
 of Scotland to kings of England for centuries past ; 
 and he ended thus : — " As, from the above-named 
 consideration, it is plain and notorious that the said 
 kingdom of Scotland belongs to us, in full right, and 
 as we have never done anything which could in any 
 way derogate from our rights over the same, we 
 humbly entreat your holiness, that you, weighing the 
 arguments above-stated, will deign to decide upou 
 them according to the promptings of your own mind ; 
 in no way giving credit to the contrary suggestions of 
 those who are jealous of us in this respect ; but pre- 
 serving and approving of our state and our royal 
 rights, if it so please your paternal affection." 
 
 The practical result, then, of the whole was, that 
 Edward, firmly rejecting the papal claim, refused even 
 
PARUAMENT OF LINCOLN. 291 
 
 to send commissioners for the purposes of discussing 
 it. He was a sincerely religious man, according to 
 the obscured Christianity of his day ; and he probably 
 had never heard the pope's claim to an universal 
 l^rimacy so much as questioned. But his own power- 
 ful and sagacious mind often enabled him to detect 
 the unwarrantable pretensions of the ecclesiastics of 
 all degrees ; and when " he felt himself to be in the 
 right/'^as he told Winchelsey at Salisbury, — he was 
 " ready to go to the death," in defence of his position. 
 Having thus parried and averted the blow aimed 
 through the papal power, the king, that summer, 
 mustered his forces and entered Scotland. But the 
 unsettled state of his affairs, and the negotiations 
 still pending with France and with Eome, seem to 
 have distracted his attention, and weakened his efforts. 
 He captured one or two strong places ; but the Scotch 
 still adhered to their former system, of retiring at his 
 approach, and laying waste everything before him. 
 An early winter set in, and cut short the campaign ; 
 and the king resolved to fix his residence for the 
 winter at Linlithgow, so as to be ready to commence 
 an early campaign in 1302. But this plan was 
 defeated by an absurd concession made by his agents 
 in France. In prolonging the truce with Philip until 
 November 30, 1302, they weakly permitted the French 
 ministers to claim the inclusion of the Scotch in this 
 cessation of arms Thus one whole year more was 
 lost to Edward in his Scottish operations, — a loss 
 which, at his time of life, was of gTeat and permanent 
 importance. The final and entire reduction of Scot- 
 land was thus once more postponed until 1303-1304; 
 when, as we shall see in the next chapter, it was 
 
 triumphantly effected. 
 
 u3 
 
292 PAELIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 In the course of tlie year 1302, we observe the 
 meeting of three parliaments. The first was held in 
 London, in March, and of it we have few particulars ; 
 another was held in July ; and in September and 
 October a third was held in London, at which there 
 attended seventeen prelates and forty-four abbots; 
 nine earls, and eighty-two barons ; two knights from 
 each shire, and two citizens or burgesses from each 
 city or borough ; with full power to do " quod tunc 
 de communi consilio ordinabitur." 
 
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH. 
 
 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.— EXECUTION OF 
 WALLACE.— SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 A.D. 1303—1305. 
 
 Some historians, in recounting the events of 
 Edward's reign, have spoken of three, or even of 
 four conquests of Scotland. But, strictly speaking, 
 the term can only be applied to his first march 
 through the kingdom, in 1296; and his last great 
 expedition, in 1303-4. On both of these occasions, 
 the land was thoroughly possessed and quieted ; and 
 when Edward returned to England, he left not behind 
 him, in all Scotland, in the open field, one declared 
 foe. Our present chapter will be given to the de- 
 scription of the second of these progresses. 
 
 In the spring of the year 1303, it began to be 
 apparent, that both the pope and the king of France, 
 having no real care or concern for the Scots, would 
 at last withdraw that support which they had hitherto 
 given to the discontented in that country. Philip 
 was anxious to be at liberty to devote his whole 
 attention to the affairs of Flanders ; and he readily 
 agreed to a treaty which was made in the course of 
 this spring, by which Edward was restored to the 
 possession of Gascony, without any proviso or stipu- 
 lation on behalf of the Scotch. No such treaty was 
 required in the case of the pope. Boniface had 
 
294 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 already done all that lie had promised or intended to 
 do in behalf of that people. He had interfered in 
 their favor, and had gained them a respite of one or 
 two years ; — but permanently to quarrel with such a 
 prince as Edward, in favor of a poor and distant 
 nation like Scotland, was altogether foreign to his 
 interest, as well as to his inclination. 
 
 The pope, then, having manifested his views, by 
 addressing a letter to the Scotch bishops, enjoining 
 on them a peaceful and dutiful demeanour towards 
 the king of England; and the treaty with Philip 
 having been fully agreed upon, — Edward felt himself, 
 at last, at liberty to turn his undivided attention to 
 the affairs of Scotland; and, with his wonted decision 
 of character, he resolved to bring all questions, in 
 that country, to a termination, by one sufficient and 
 well-considered effort. On the 20th of January he 
 wrote from his castle at Guildford, to more than 
 twenty of his chief barons, desiring them to proceed, 
 with their whole power, to the aid of John de Segrave, 
 the governor of Scotland, who was about to march 
 from Berwick to Edinburgh, and whom he, the king, 
 intended shortly to join. 
 
 Before Edward, however, could reach Scotland, 
 Segrave, like earl Warrenne at Stirling, had allowed 
 himself, by carelessnesK* and over-confidence, to be 
 surprised and defeated. He had commenced his 
 march towards Edinburgh with a force of about 
 20,000 men. But these he had formed into three 
 divisions ; and these divisions marched on at a con- 
 siderable distance from each other, and without keep- 
 ing up any proper communication. Comyn, one of 
 the so-called "regents," and sir Simon Eraser, lay 
 between Segrave' s force and Edinburgh, with about 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 295 
 
 8,000 men. They doubtless had good intelligence 
 of Segrave's movements, and of the disposition of his 
 forces. Very naturally, and very judiciously, they 
 made a night-march, and took the first division of 
 Segrave's force by surprise, at the dawn of day ; 
 routing and dispersing it, and taking many prisoners. 
 Shortly afterwards the second division came in sight, 
 and the Scotch, still superior in numbers, and exulting 
 in success, attacked and defeated it also. The third 
 division, under sir Robert Neville, had met with the 
 fugitives from the first two engagements, and were 
 thus warned in time ; and they repulsed the Scotch, 
 and recovered some of the prisoners*. Still, on the 
 whole, "the battle of Roslyn" was a serious defeat 
 for the English, and hastened Edward's journey into 
 Scotland, which he reached soon after Easter. 
 
 In this engagement at Roslyn, one of the king's 
 officers, called " Ralph the Cofferer," was taken 
 prisoner by sir Simon Eraser. He offered a large 
 ransom; but Eraser himself "first struck off the 
 hands of the unhappy priest, and then severed his 
 head from his bodyf." 
 
 This same Eraser afterwards craved Edward's 
 mercy, and received it, on condition of leaving the 
 country. This promise, like almost every other en- 
 
 * The Scottisli historians, who WTote a century after, claim the 
 A-ictory in all three engagements ; but Hemingford and Trivet, 
 who vn'ote at the time, distinctly declare that Neville repulsed the 
 Scotch, and recovered many of the prisoners. Hume and Tytler, 
 as Scotchmen, give credit to their q-smi chroniclers ; and yet they 
 are uncandid enough to profess to take their accounts from 
 Hemingford and Trivet. But these latter writers, who are the 
 only contemporary witnesses, plainly assert, that the advantage? 
 in the third engagement, rested with the English. 
 
 •j- Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 186. 
 
296 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 gagement made at that time by Scotchmen, was 
 unblusliingiy violated, and Fraser was again found in 
 arms against that sovereign who had already granted 
 him his life. He was taken and executed as a traitor, 
 and his execution is one of those which are said 
 to "brand Edward's memory with the charge of 
 cruelty." The position, in fact, which is taken by 
 most Scottish writers, seems to be this ; that these 
 men, because they were in arms for " independence," 
 were entitled to commit any atrocity that they pleased ; 
 but that, when the fortune of war went against 
 them, it was Edward's duty to grant them, at least, 
 a free pardon, and, in some cases, a reward ! 
 
 The momentary advantage gained by the Scotch 
 at Roslyn had no influence on the fate of the 
 campaign. Edward arrived in Scotland soon after 
 Easter, having summoned his military tenants to 
 meet him at Roxburgh by Whitsuntide. He then, 
 passed on to Edinburgh, " without challenge or inter- 
 ruption," in the early part of June. He himself 
 marched up the eastern side of the kingdom, having 
 given his son the command of a division which pro- 
 ceeded along the western coast. Having been warned, 
 by the experience of the last four years, of the diffi- 
 culties created by the devastating system, the king 
 had now made ample provision, and his fleets accom- 
 panied his march with abundant supplies. From 
 Edinburgh he proceeded, by Linlithgow and Clack- 
 mannan, to Perth. But this march involved the 
 passage of the Forth, — the attempt to pass which 
 river had occasioned earl Warrenne's defeat at Stir- 
 ling. Lord Hailes and Mr. Tytler differ as to 
 Edward's plans. Hailes says, — " The Scotch fondly 
 imagined that Edward would attempt to force the 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 297 
 
 passage " of the narrow bridge, as Cressingliam had 
 done, "But the prudence of Edward frustrated their 
 expectations. Having discovered a ford at some dis- 
 tance, he crossed the river at the head of his whole 
 cavalry*." This ford, it will be remembered, had 
 been mentioned to earl Warrenne in 1297, by sir 
 Eichard Lundin. Mr. Tytler, however, thinks that 
 " Edward did intend to pass the river by the bridge ; 
 which, on his arrival, he found had been destroyed 
 by the Scots." He observes that, "had the leaders 
 profited by the lesson taught them by Wallace, they 
 would have kept up the bridge, and attacked the Eng- 
 lish when defiling over itj-." 
 
 A singular notion Mr. Tytler must have had, of 
 the sagacity of a commander of whose military skill 
 he often speaks with admiration, to suppose it pos- 
 sible that he could have repeated the insane blunder 
 of Cressino'ham and Warrenne, with the lamentable 
 results of which he was so well acquainted. It is 
 true, indeed, that Edward, prepared for all contingen- 
 cies, would have passed the river by a bridge, if the 
 fords had been found impracticable. Peter Langtoft 
 explains the whole transaction : — 
 
 " Counsel lie had of one, a bridge he should -wTihte (erect), 
 Boats and bai'ges ilkon, with flukes to make them tighte. 
 The Scottish sea to pass, ij that he Jwd neede ; 
 That passage never was, he rode over on his steede. 
 The Scots they saw him coming, and fleeand fast thej did, 
 Moors and mountains over, away they drive for di'ead." 
 
 This plan of a pontoon-bridge was not new to the 
 king. The strong rings and bolts by which he pro- 
 posed to make fast a bridge over the Menai-strait, 
 
 * Hailes' Annals, vol. i., p. 304. f Tytler, vol. i., p. 191. 
 
298 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 twenty years before this period, are even now to be 
 traced on the banks of that water*. He, doubtless, 
 therefore, was prepared to take a similar course now, 
 if it should be needful ; but he could scarcely have 
 been left in ignorance of sir Richard Lundin's 
 suggestion. And a ford having been pointed out, 
 " the king," says Mr. Tytler, " forded the river in per- 
 son, at the head of his cavalry, and routed or dis- 
 persed the last remnant of a Scottish army." Lang- 
 toft's description, however, is the more picturesque 
 of the two ; it was written at the time, and it 
 corresponds exactly with the flight, — admitted on all 
 hands, — of the Scottish cavalry at Falkirk. To re- 
 peat his words : — 
 
 " The Scots they saw him coming, and fleeancl fast they did, 
 Moors and mountains over, away they drive for dread." 
 
 This was the last attempt at opposition in the open 
 field. From Perth the king proceeded to Dundee 
 and Brechin and Aberdeen. The castle of Brechin 
 delayed him three weeks. It was naturally strong, 
 and it had a stout commander, — sir Thomas Maule. 
 But he was struck down by a stone from one of the 
 king's engines ; and on his death the garrison at 
 once capitulated. 
 
 From Aberdeen Edward marched on to Kinloss 
 in Moray. Some English writers of the time assert 
 him to have even reached Caithness. He may have 
 embarked in some vessel of his fleet, and in that may 
 have visited the coast ; but lord Hailes' remark 
 seems a rational one, that in those days the country 
 to the north of Rosshirc was of small account, and it 
 
 * Archaolog. Journal, No. 27. 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 299 
 
 seems improbable that the king should have carried 
 an army into those remote districts. But having thus 
 traversed the land, and found no enemy to abide the 
 push of lancCy Edward returned, in the autumn, to 
 Dumfermline, where he took up his quarters for the 
 winter. The Scots were now pretty generally satis- 
 fied of the hopelessness of any further resistance. 
 Wallace, indeed, was somewhere hidden ; but we hear 
 nothing of a single valorous deed done by him ; and 
 none of the Scotch appear to have expected anything 
 from his sword. The barons and other proprietors 
 were now rapidly making their submissions, and 
 being "received to the king's grace;" and in the 
 course of his residence at Dumfermline, this pacifica- 
 tion became almost universal. Peter Langtoft says, — 
 
 " The towns, and the counties, and the people all aboiite, 
 To the king fell on knees, his power did them loute. 
 Unto his peace they yield ; fealty to him did sweare ; 
 Truly with him to hold ; no arms against him beai'e." 
 
 Matthew of Westminster says, — "The nobles of 
 Scotland, their error having met with stern defeat, 
 submitted themselves to the will of the king of Eng- 
 land, and he admitted them to his favor, treating them 
 with great mercy, inflicting merely certain fines, and 
 allowing them time for payment." 
 
 Christmas arrived, and Edward, as his manner 
 was, gathered his family round him. Langtoft says, — 
 
 " To Dumfermline he went ; for rest will he there : 
 For the queen he sent, and she did dight her chare : (cheerfully.) 
 From Cawood she glent (passed) to Dumfermline to fare." 
 
 Two or three of the rebel leaders, besides Wallace, 
 
300 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 still held out, but they were now reduced to great 
 extremities, Langtoft says, — 
 
 " The lord of Baclenoch, Fraser, and Waleis, 
 Lived at theeves' law, and robband always. 
 They had no sustenance, the war to maintaine ; 
 But skulked upon chance, and robbed all betwene." 
 
 The few nobles, however, who yet stood out, could 
 not allow themselves to sink to the level to which 
 Wallace had fallen. They saw the necessity for at 
 once, and wholly, closing this great struggle. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 9 th of February, 1304, " the earls 
 of Pembroke and Ulster, with sir Henry Percy, 
 met Comyn at Strathorde in Fife, and a negotiation 
 took place, in which the late regent and his followers, 
 after stipulating for the preservation of their lives, 
 liberties, and lands, delivered themselves up, and 
 agreed to the infliction of any pecuniary fine which 
 the conqueror should think right. The castles and 
 the strengths of Scotland were to remain in the hands 
 of Edward, and the government was to be adminis- 
 tered at his pleasure*." 
 
 Those who thus made their peace with the king, 
 saving both their lives and their estates, probably 
 performed their part, of entire submission, honestlj^ 
 But there was a single instance of obstinate resistance, 
 which, in its result, places in a strong light Edward's 
 patient forbearance and his clemency: and yet, like 
 many other great actions of his life, it is perverted 
 by some writers into a proof of his want of gener- 
 osity. 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 191. 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 801 
 
 The treaty made by Comyn and his coadjutors was 
 the final submission of that which assumed to be the 
 Scottish government. Peace was to be restored ; and 
 the castles and all the powers of government were 
 in future to be Edward's. It followed of necessity, 
 that any one who chose, after this, to maintain war 
 against the king, took the position of a rebel. This 
 has been an admitted law, in all nations, and in all 
 times. We can easily call to mind the period, when 
 it was suspected that Soult had fought the battle of 
 Toulouse, after receiving the intelligence of Xapoleon's 
 abdication; and when it was generally felt, that if 
 such were really the case, hanging would be his 
 fate, or, at least, his desert. And, unquestionably, 
 after Napoleon's departure, and the establishment of 
 Louis XYin., any one of Napoleon's commanders 
 who had chosen to hold a fortress against the king, 
 would have found the punishment of a rebel awaiting 
 him. 
 
 But in Scotland, although the late regent and his 
 coadjutors had agreed to deliver up the castles to the 
 king, there was one commander who resolutely refused 
 so to give up his charge. 
 
 The castle of Stirling, during one of Edward's 
 absences in England, had been invested by the 
 Scotch, as we saw a few pages back, and starved into 
 a surrender. The regents had garrisoned it with 
 three hundred men, and had placed it under the com- 
 mand of sir William Oliphant. 
 
 By the treaty recently made, this castle became 
 Edward's, and any man holding it against him was 
 as justly liable to suffer the death of a rebel, as if he 
 had held against the king the Tower of London. In 
 
802 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 fact, all men who continued a fruitless resistance, liad 
 been formally declared outlaws in a Scottish parlia- 
 ment held at St. Andrew's*. 
 
 Yet Oliphant refused to submit. He at first tried 
 the device of asking for time to send to sir John 
 Soulis, one of the late regents, who had fled to France. 
 But the castle was not Soulis's, nor had Oliphant 
 received charge of it from Soulis in his private 
 capacity, but as one of the regents ; and the regents 
 and all the lords of Scotland had now abandoned their 
 resistance. This transparent device, therefore, could 
 not deceive Edward, who indignantly exclaimed, 
 ^' Am / to wait for Ms pleasure ? — No ; if you will 
 not surrender the castle, defend it if you will, and 
 abide the consequences." 
 
 There surely cannot be the smallest question, that 
 if Edward, with the treaty in his hand which promised 
 him quiet possession of all the castles of Scotland, 
 and with the act of parliament of St. Andrew's before 
 him, had given the garrison of Stirling notice, that 
 unless the castle was surrendered within three days 
 he would hang every one of them as rebels, he would 
 have been fully justified. Yet, instead of this, he 
 patiently submitted to the toils and perils of a long 
 siege, in which many of his men were killed, and in 
 which his own life was repeatedly endangered. 
 
 The castle was exceedingly strong, and the batter- 
 ing artillery of modern days was entirely unknown. 
 It is probable that Oliphant, confident in the natural 
 strength of the place, hoped that he might weary out 
 Edward and his army, and so win for himself a 
 lasting fame. "The siege," says Mr. Tytler^ " had 
 
 * Tytlcr, vol. i., p. 193. 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 303 
 
 continued from the 22nd of April to the 20th of May, 
 without much impression having been made. But 
 determination was a marked feature in the powerful 
 character of the king. He wrote to the sheriffs of 
 York, Lincoln, and London, commanding them to 
 purchase and send instantly to him, at Stirling, all 
 the balistse, c(uarrells, and bows and arrows, which 
 they could collect ; and to the governor of the Tower, 
 requiring a similar supply-." 
 
 Two months more elapsed before these engines 
 could be collected and brought to bear upon the 
 castle. Meanwhile the king exposed himself in 
 the siege as freely as any of his men. On one 
 occasion a javelin struck him on the breast, and 
 lodged itself between the steel-plates of his armour. 
 The king plucked it out, and shaking it in the air, 
 called out to the besieged, that he would hang the 
 man who had aimed it. On another day, a great 
 stone, discharged from one of the engines in the 
 castle, struck his horse such a blow, that he backed 
 and fell. His soldiers rushed forward, and carried 
 the king off, — crying out against his rashness; to 
 which he only replied, '^ We have undertaken a just 
 war in the name of the Lord, and we will not fear 
 what man can do unto usf." 
 
 At last, in July, a considerable breach was 
 effected, and the ditch was nearly filled up with the 
 rubbish and faggots thrown into it. A general 
 assault would now have carried the castle ; but, 
 seeing their imminent peril, the besieged sent to beg 
 for terms of surrender. They asked for " securit}^ of 
 life and limb," — a request which the king would, 
 
 * T}tler, vol. i., p. 196. f Matthew of Westminster, 1304. 
 
304 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 doubtless, liave granted readily, if preferred at the 
 beginning of the siege, instead of at the end of it. 
 But it was now too late. They had forfeited their 
 lives, by all the military laws that ever were known. 
 They had been making war for three mouths past, not 
 in behalf of the king of Scotland, for there was no 
 king except Edward ; nor yet in behalf of the regency 
 of Scotland, for the regents had submitted, and made 
 their peace with the king. They had made war with 
 a king, simply to gratify their own feelings of 
 animosity ; in a word, they were rebels, taken in the 
 act. Hence Edward's steru reply was a just and 
 proper one : — " I will not receive you to my grace, 
 but only to my will.'" 
 
 " Sir John de Mowbray and sir Eustace le Poor 
 accordingly proceeded to the castle-gate, and sum- 
 moned the governor. Oliphant, with his kinsman 
 Dupplin and a squire, met the English knights, and 
 proceeded with them to an interview with the earls of 
 Gloucester and Ulster. At this meeting they con- 
 sented, for themselves and their companions, to sur- 
 render unconditionally to the king of England ; and 
 they earnestly requested that he would permit them 
 to make this surrender in his own presence, and 
 would himself witness their contrition^." 
 
 It is quite evident that, like David of Snowdon, 
 who, in 1283, prayed to be allowed to see the king, 
 they understood Edward's character; and that their 
 best or only hope lay in the real kindness of his 
 heart. Thc}^ came, accordingly, before the king, in 
 the attitude and garb of criminals. Doubtless, if in 
 the present century, such an act had been done, the 
 doers of it, cither by martial or criminal law, would 
 
 * Tytlcr, vol. i., p. 197. 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 305 
 
 have been declared rebels, and would liave been con- 
 demned to die. They said, '^ My lord, we submit our- 
 selves to your will." The king answered, "My will 
 is to hang you all ; and if you dislike that, you may 
 return to the castle." But they still had faith in his 
 mercy ; and they persisted in leaving themselves 
 wholly at his disposal ; kneeling before him in the 
 attitude of criminals. At last, after a pause, "the 
 king being moved, turned away his face for a time ; 
 and those who stood round broke into tears. He then 
 ordered them to be sent to certain English castles, 
 adding, " Do not chain them'^." Not a man suffered 
 any punishment beyond a temporary confinement ; 
 except one Englishman, who had aided the Scots in 
 getting possession of the castle. He, dragged forth 
 and hanged, died for his treason. 
 
 Yet Edward's noble acknowledgment of their 
 soldierly bearing, even in a cause in itself wholly un- 
 justifiable, which was implied in his orders to put no 
 fetters on them, is thus ungraciously noticed by lord 
 Hailes : — "This was the only hope of pardon in- 
 dulged to men whose valour would have been revered 
 by a more generous co7iquerory 
 
 Why, such a conqueror as Wallace, of whom the 
 Scots are so proud, would have butchered every man 
 upon the spot ! This, indeed, as his own eulogists 
 admit, was his constant practice. A monarch of the 
 ordinary kind, after having been put to so much 
 trouble and loss by a defence which was wholly con- 
 trary to the law of nations, would have hanged up the 
 commander, as the chief offender, and have thrown 
 the rest of the garrison into a dungeon. The third 
 Edward, provoked by the long but wholly justifiable 
 
 * Mattliew of Westminster, 1304. 
 
 X 
 
306 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 defence of Calais, actually ordered six of its defenders 
 to execution ; only recalling that order at the earnest 
 entreaty of his queen. But the king now before us, 
 after seeing many of his men killed before his eyes, 
 and after having had his own life twice attempted, in 
 a warfare which he knew to be wholly unjustifiable, 
 still so far honors soldierly firmness and tenacity, 
 that he spares all their lives, and commands that no 
 fetters shall be put upon them. And yet, after this, 
 he is reproached as ^'ungenerous!" Such is the 
 sort of justice which this great king commonly re- 
 ceives at the hands of Scotchmen. 
 
 Scotland was now once more quieted and at rest. 
 The entire surrender made by Baliol in 1296, to a 
 superior lord who justly claimed a fief forfeited by 
 rebellion, had now been a second time confirmed by 
 the voluntary homage and oath of fealty of every 
 baron, knight, or landed proprietor in Scotland. 
 There remained but one man still contumacious, — 
 the once terrible, but now despised William Wallace. 
 And he, at last, wearied of the vagrant, outlaw life of 
 the last six years, "prayed his friends that they 
 would beseech Edward that he might yield himself on 
 terms*." 
 
 The rebel leader, as we have already observed, 
 was, for some reason or other, entirely deserted by 
 the whole Scottish nation. We have already cited 
 Mr. Tytler's admission, — that during all the years 
 which elapsed between his defeat at Falkirk in 1298, 
 and his apprehension in 1305, "his name does not 
 occur as bearing even ci secondary command in the 
 wars against Edward." Sir James Mackintosh en- 
 
 =1= Laugtoft. 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 807 
 
 deavours to account for tliis, by saying that "the 
 jealousy of the nobles, or the unpopularity of a signal 
 reverse, hide Wallace from our search for several 
 years." But " the jealousy of the nobles " had not 
 hindered Wallace from gathering an army in 1297, 
 and another in 1298; nor did "the unpopularity of 
 'several' signal reverses," in 1306, prevent Bruce 
 from brino-ino- fresh forces into the field in 1307. 
 How it happened that, after 1298, not even a score of 
 "men of desperate fortunes" could be got to follow 
 Wallace, must remain a mystery. One suspicion has 
 occurred to us, grounded upon the known facts, of 
 his delight in cruelty, a trait which is seldom found 
 in the truly brave ; and of the absence of the 
 slightest record of any deed of daring, either at Stir- 
 ling or at Falkirk. These two facts seem to point to 
 the conclusion, — that Wallace was taken to be, by 
 his countrymen, during all these years, something 
 very much the reverse of "a hero." One trifling 
 incident in his life is briefly mentioned as occurring 
 during this period. Blind Harry, in his romance, 
 sends Wallace to France, where Philip makes him 
 " Duke of Gruyenne." But the real truth of this part 
 of his story is briefly told us in the Chronicle of St. 
 Albans (Cotton MSS.), in the following terms : — 
 
 "About this time WiUiam Waleis, with five 
 soldiers, went to the French country, to ask aid from 
 the king of France. And when he had arrived at 
 Amiens, it was told to the king, who gave orders that 
 he should be apprehended. The king then wrote to 
 the king of England, offering to send Waleis to him." 
 
 Apparently, however, Philip, on further consider- 
 ation, felt that it mis-ht not redound much to his 
 honor to give up a man who had voluntarily taken 
 
 x3 
 
508 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 refuge witli him ; — and he therefore devised a middle 
 course, by which he might get rid of the Scotch 
 leader without putting him into the hands of his pur- 
 suers. He gave to Wallace a brief note, addressed 
 to his representatives at Kome, recommending the 
 rebel chief to their good offices, and through them 
 to the pope. This note, strange to saj, is now pre- 
 served among the ancient records in the Tower of 
 London. A copy of it is given in the Wallace 
 Documents (Edinb. 1841) ; and it is argued by the 
 learned editor of that collection, that this note proves 
 that Wallace went to Eome, and saw the pope. But 
 surely it rather leads to an opposite conclusion. Had 
 Wallace travelled into Italy, and seen the pope, we 
 should probably have found some traces of him by 
 the way, or in Rome itself. But no such foot-marks 
 have ever been found. But more, — had Wallace ac- 
 tually reached Rome, and delivered that note to 
 Philip's agents, how should ever it have found its 
 way to the Tower of London ? Obviously, the more 
 rational conclusion is, that the said note was a mere 
 pretext on Philip's part, — a device for getting rid of 
 Wallace ; and that the Scotch leader, having no 
 money, and knowing it to be useless to go to Rome 
 without money, took the note, put it into his pouch, 
 escaped back into Scotland, and was, at last, taken 
 with the paper in his possession. So found, the 
 document would naturally be sent to Edward, and 
 thus it would find its way into the usual receptacle 
 for the state-papers of the time. 
 
 At all events, Wallace soon returned from France, 
 and again betook himself to his forest-haunts in 
 Scotland. And now^ seeing all Scotland once more 
 quietly at rest under Edward's authority, the obdu- 
 
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 309 
 
 racy of this violent man began to give way. For 
 more than five years he had lived the life of an out- 
 law, "having no sustenance" but "robbing always." 
 He now approaches as near to the king as he may 
 venture, — still hiding in the forest, and he begs his 
 friends to apply to the king on his behalf. But the 
 application was made in a wrong spirit. Langtoft 
 thus describes it : — 
 
 " Turn we now other ways, unto our own geste ; (affairs) 
 And. speke of the Walleys, that hes in the foreste ; 
 In the forest he lendes, of Dumfermel}Ti : 
 He prayed all his frendes, and other of his kyn, — 
 After that Yole (Christmas) they will heseke Edwai'd ; 
 That he might yield till him, in a forward (covenant) 
 That were honorable to kepe wod or beste ; 
 And with his scrit full stable, and seled at the lest ; 
 To him and all his, to have in heritage ; 
 And non otherwise, als terme, tyme and stage." 
 
 This assuredly was one of the most audacious 
 demands ever made. The outlaw knew full well that 
 he had sinned in no ordinary manner and degree, 
 and that, not against Edward only, or chiefly, but 
 against all England. His name was heard through- 
 out the realm with rage and horror. Mr. Tytler 
 justly describes his position in a few plain words : — 
 "Wallace was too well aware of the unpardonable 
 injuries which ,he had inflicted on the English " to 
 conceive it possible for Edward to spare his life. 
 He stood in the same position, or rather, in a worse 
 position, than the Nana Sahib has occupied recently. 
 And if it were reported at Calcutta, that the governor- 
 general had promised to the butcher of Oawnpore 
 his life, one universal groan of disgust would be 
 heard throughout India. Equally difficult must it 
 
310 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 have been for Edward to grant the ravager of the 
 northern counties any kind of pardon. And it is 
 with wonder, therefore, that we read, in the treaty 
 made with Comyn in 1304, the distinct inclusion of 
 Wallace : — "As to William Walleys, if he thinks fit 
 to surrender himself, it must be unconditionally, to 
 the will and mercy of our lord the king*." In 
 another place it is said, that "William Walleys 
 might i^ut himself on the grace and mercy of the 
 king, if he thought properf." Now, as to the meaning 
 of such language in Edward's mouth, there can be 
 no doubt whatever. We have just seen one instance 
 in the case of the garrison of Stirling ; to whom he 
 had refused the least promise of grace or mercy. In 
 fact, to be allowed to surrender, was tantamount to a 
 grant of life at least. So, on another occasion, when 
 his judges reminded him that "he might shew 
 mercy " to a certain criminal, his exclamation was, 
 ^^ May shew mercy! why I will do that for a dog 
 who seeks my grace!" On the other hand, when 
 anyone had sinned past forgiveness, like Bruce in 
 1306, then he was "not to be received;" and the 
 young prince was rebuked for holding any communi- 
 cation with him. As to Wallace, it is evident that the 
 king viewed him in the same light as he had viewed 
 the garrison of Stirling. He would enter into no 
 engagement with them : — if they chose to surrender, 
 it must be unconditionally, to the king's absolute 
 will. 
 
 Wallace, as Mr. Tytler tells us, "was too well 
 aware of the unpardonable injuries which he had in- 
 
 * "Endroit de Will, de Walleys, le Eoi eutciit, qu il soit receu 
 a sa volute 't a son oidainemeut." (Palgravo.) 
 1 llymer's Placita, p. 370. 
 
CAPTURE OF WALLACE. 311 
 
 flictecl on the English" to be able to believe it possible 
 for the king to shew him mercy ; and thus he threw 
 away the only chance that remained to him. His 
 demand, which we have just given in Langtoft's 
 words, — that he should have, under the king's hand, 
 not only assurance of his life, but also an estate 
 secured to him, and to his heirs for ever, was just the 
 surest way of raising the king's indignation. Obvi- 
 ously no pretension could have been more prepos- 
 terous. He was an outlaw, liable to be taken and 
 brought to justice ; he was poor and wretched ; and 
 his offences, as he well knew, were such as it must 
 be difficult for the king to pardon. Yet, instead of 
 grasping at the single chance which was now offered 
 him, he must needs give the king fresh provocation. 
 And thus his doom was sealed. His offer was made 
 known to the king, and Langtoft tells us the result : — 
 
 " When they brought that tiding, Edward was fulle grim: 
 He belauht him the fiende ; als his traitore in lond : 
 And ever ilkon his frende, that him susteynd or fonde. 
 Three hundred marke he hette unto his warison; (reward) 
 That with him so mette, or hrmg his hedde to town. 
 Now flies William Waleis, of pese nouht he spedis : 
 In moores and mareis with robherie him fedis." 
 
 Obviously no other course could be taken. Edward 
 had already stretched his prerogative of mercy to an 
 extraordinary extent, by expressing his willingness 
 to " receive" the outlaw if he made an immediate and 
 unconditional submission. Had he so submitted and 
 received mercy, it cannot be doubted that such lenity 
 would have caused great dissatisfaction among the 
 English people. But Wallace had elected to take Ms 
 chance of justice, and that justice was not long in 
 overtaking him. As two Scottish earls had guided 
 
812 CAPTURE OF WALLACE. 
 
 the king to liis camp at Falkirk, so now a Scottish 
 knight soon earned the reward offered for his appre- 
 hension. Sir John Menteith surprised him in bed, 
 bound him, and delivered him to the English au- 
 thorities*. 
 
 Of his reception in England we may form some 
 idea by figuring to ourselves how the Nana Sahib 
 would be received were he conducted across India into 
 Calcutta, or were he brought to London. Yet this 
 comparison fails, for the atrocities of Nana Sahib 
 were altogether trivial compared with those of 
 Wallace. The Indian leader was stained with the 
 guilt of one massacre, the Scotch, with the guilt of 
 many. The Nana had slain his hundreds, Wallace his 
 thousands, — each being the slaughterer of helpless 
 women and children. He was carried through Eng- 
 land a chained prisoner to his doom. He arrived in 
 London on the 22nd of August, 1305, ^^ great num- 
 bers of men and women," saj^s Stowe, "wondering 
 upon him." He was not lodged in any prison, nor 
 was any lengthened proceeding entered into. His 
 chief crime, — the savage desolation of the northern 
 counties, was a matter of universal notoriety; nor 
 did he for a moment deny it. He was therefore 
 lodged for one night " at the house of William Dilect, 
 a citizen of London, in Fenchurch-street ;" and " on 
 the morrow he was brought on horseback to West- 
 minster, Segrave and Geoffrey, knights, and the 
 mayor and sheriffs of the city, escorting him. He was 
 placed on a bench in AVestminster Hall," and his in- 
 dictment was read by sir Percy Malorie, chief jus- 
 
 * Langtoft says, — 
 " Sir -lolin of Mcnetcst followed William so nigh, 
 IIo loko liini when ho Iburetl least, one night his Icmau by." 
 
CAPTURE OF WALLACE. 313 
 
 tice. It charged him, — not, as the Scottish historians 
 would represent, — chiefly or solely with rebellion, or 
 with levAing war, but with those special barbarities 
 which, under the name of war, he had perpetrated. 
 
 Some writers lay great stress upon the circum- 
 stance, which appears in only one chronicler, that the 
 criminal repudiated the charge of treason, — saying, 
 " Traitor was I never, for I never gave my allegiance 
 to the king of England." The fact may have been 
 so, but it is whollv immaterial. No doubt more than 
 half the persons who have died for treason since 
 Wallace's days might have pleaded the same excuse. 
 It is most probable that none of the Jesuit priests 
 executed in Elizabeth's days had ever sworn alle- 
 giance ; and we may be sure that Thistlewood and 
 his gang, who died in 1820, had never taken any such 
 oath. But no one ever imagined that such a fact 
 made the slightest difference in their guilt. 
 
 Treason, however, or mere rebellion, would never 
 have brought Wallace from Scotland to Westminster 
 Hall. Comyn, Eraser, and scores of other distin- 
 guished men In Scotland, had been guilty of treason 
 and rebellion, and had received the king's pardon. 
 The o'reat difference between their case and that of 
 Wallace, consisted in those "unpardonable injuries" 
 which, as Mr. Tytler admits, " he had inflicted on 
 the English," and which Edward, as the king and 
 defender of the English, found it to be now his duty 
 to punish. And, accordingly, his indictment justly 
 describes him as "Willelmus Waleis, captus j^ro 
 seditione, homicidiis, deprsedacionibus, incendiis, et 
 aliis diversis feloniis." 
 
 And so it runs throughout. It says little of his 
 treason and rebellion, — it dwells more on his murders 
 
314 EXECUTION OF WALLACE. 
 
 and his other cruelties. It speaks of his murder of 
 the sheriff" of Lanark, "whose body he cut in pieces," 
 reminding us of the fate of Cressingham at Stirling. 
 Passing on to his invasion of the northern counties, 
 it charges, that " with certain of his accomplices, he 
 invaded the realm of England, and all whom he there 
 found, subjects of the king of England, he slew by 
 various kinds of deaths ; — men of religion, and monks 
 devoted to God, he feloniously massacred ; sparing 
 none who spake the English tongue ; but all, old men 
 and j^oung, brides and widows, infants and children 
 at the breast, he murdered in a manner more terrible 
 than could have been imagined." No denial was 
 given to these charges ; in fact, none could be given : 
 " He pleaded no defence," says Mr. Tytler, " the 
 facts icere notorious.'" His ravage of Northumber- 
 land and Cumberland, "leaving nothing behind him 
 but blood and ashes ^' was as well known and as 
 certain a fact as the comparatively insignificant 
 "massacre of Cawnpore " in our own day*. 
 
 His sentence was therefore read. It was precisely 
 such a sentence as would have been passed upon 
 any doer of the like acts in the reign of William III., 
 or in that of George III. It pronounced, — 
 
 "That for the robberies, murders, and felonies, 
 of which he had been guilty, he should be hanged by 
 the neck : That, as being an outlaw, and not having 
 come to the king's peace, he should be cut down and 
 beheaded as a traitor : That, for the profanations and 
 sacrileges committed by him, he should be disem- 
 bowelled and his entrails burnt : And that as a 
 warning to others, his head should be affixed to 
 
 * See Appendix J. 
 
EXECUTION OF WALLACE. 816 
 
 London bridge, and his quarters in the towns of 
 Berwick, Newcastle, Stirling, and Perth." This judg- 
 ment was carried into effect immediately. 
 
 This "barbarous sentence" is exclaimed against 
 by most of the Scotch historians ; but their protests 
 are strangely inconsistent and forgetful. In Edward's 
 day, and for centuries afterwards, it was thought 
 right and necessary to visit great crimes with great 
 punishments. These complex sentences did not begin, 
 — we have already remarked, — in Edward's day, but 
 long before ; and they were continued for many cen- 
 turies afterward. In Elizabeth's day, when Walsing- 
 ham and Burleigh, Jewell and Hooker, flourished, 
 many Jesuit priests were sentenced to the same death 
 which Wallace suffered, for merely consiDiring against 
 the queen. Later still, we find Montrose sentenced, 
 by a very religious government in Scotland, to nearly 
 the same death. And in England we find William, lord 
 Russell, the Christian patriot, in 1680, protesting 
 against the omission of the hanging and quartering 
 in the case of lord Stafford. In fact, the refinement 
 of feeling which, in our day, revolts against these 
 disgusting details, had no existence in the fourteenth 
 century, nor for several hundred years after it ; and 
 to censure Edward for the cruelty of this sentence, 
 is as irrational as if we were to blame him for 
 wearing armour, or for not using gunpowder. For 
 more than four hundred years after Wallace's death, 
 no Englishman ever dreamed that there had been 
 any peculiar cruelty in the mode of his execution. 
 
 One victim, then, and one only, had fallen on the 
 scaffold ; and even that one, had he thrown himself 
 on Edward's mercy, would have been spared. But 
 when, especially in those hard and iron days, was 
 
316 SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 SO great a cliange eflfected at so small a cost ? When 
 was a kingdom in insurrection restored to peace 
 with so little of bloodshed, or even of minor punish- 
 ment ? 
 
 And now, there being " neither adversary nor 
 evil occurrent," the king determined once more to 
 attempt a thoroughly friendly and conciliatory settle- 
 ment of affairs in Scotland. In his usual frank and 
 manly way, he resolved to throw himself into the 
 hands of the Scotch, and to desire them to advise 
 him as to the best plan for the government of the 
 country. 
 
 He called upon Wishart, the bishop of Grlasgow, 
 who had already been twice or thrice in arms against 
 him; upon Robert Bruce, who had more than once 
 given him cause for complaint ; and upon John Mow- 
 bray, — to consult together, and to agree among them- 
 selves as to time, place, and other arrangements, for 
 holding a parliament specially about the state and 
 affairs of Scotland ; so that all things should be 
 settled to the full content of the whole Scottish 
 people. At their suggestion a parliament was held 
 at Perth, in which ten commissioners were appointed 
 to confer with the king in London upon Scottish 
 affairs. To these Edward added ten Englishmen, 
 with several of the judges. All these were sworn to 
 give the best advice in their power, without suffering 
 themselves to be biassed by friendship or interest. 
 The result of their deliberations was, that John of 
 Brctagne, the king's nephew, should be appointed 
 governor of Scotland, with the assistance of the 
 present chancellor and chamberlain: that for the 
 administration of justice, Scotland should be divided 
 into four districts, — Lothian, Galloway, the country 
 
SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND. 317 
 
 between the Forth and the mountains, and the high- 
 lands, — to each of which districts two justiciaries, an 
 Englishman and a Scotchman, should be appointed: 
 that sheriffs and escheators should be named for the 
 several counties : and that the laws of David king of 
 Scots should be read in an assembly of the people of 
 Scotland, for revision and amendment. 
 
 On the 16th of September, 1305, a great council 
 met on the affairs of Scotland, at the New Temple in 
 London. There were present the bishops of Glasgow 
 and St. Andrew's, two Scotch earls, and several 
 barons; and the sitting lasted for about twenty days. 
 A variety of points were discussed and settled, and 
 at last the commissioners came before the king, 
 at his manor of Sheen in Surrey, and read the ordi- 
 nances which they had made ; which he then approved 
 and confirmed. They then all swore upon the Holy 
 Gospels, " Eobert Bruce," says Mr. Tytler, '^acting 
 a principal part," for themselves and their heirs, and 
 for the whole people of Scotland, that they would 
 faithfully keep and observe the said ordinances. 
 "They then took leave of the king, and returned 
 home, with great appearance of joy and satisfaction." 
 
 In a few days after this, the king issued Forma 
 pads Scotice^ — the Form of the peace of Scotland, — 
 in which he recounts, 
 
 " That the people of Scotland, after they were 
 bound to us by oath of fealty, and b}^ their written 
 engagements, did by evil advice make war upon us, 
 committing murders, robberies, burnings, &c., not 
 only in Scotland, but in parts of England also ; — but 
 that afterwards many of them returned and were 
 received into our peace and favor ; and now John 
 Comyn of Badenoch, and others of his party, desire 
 
818 SETTLEAIENT OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 to be SO received : — now we, willing to do tliem special 
 grace, have granted, and do hereby grant, that their 
 lives and liberties shall be safe, and that they shall 
 not be disinherited. And we also pardon the crimes 
 aforesaid, and remit the anger we had against them, 
 they being bound to pay the fines hereinafter men- 
 tioned." Then follows a schedule of one, two, or 
 three years' fines, on the principal persons concerned 
 in the rebellion. 
 
 And so, apparently, was Scotland a second time 
 pacified and brought under regular government. 
 Not a voice was now heard to disturb the general 
 tranquillity. One execution only, as in the case of 
 Wales, had been found necessary. One man in each 
 of the two countries had gone beyond the bounds of 
 legitimate warfare, and had by special crimes called 
 down upon himself a special punishment. But to 
 Scotland itself, as to Wales, the conduct of Edward, 
 both in 1206 and in 1305, was generous, wise, and 
 thoroughly noble. Still, these excellencies could 
 not protect him from treachery, perjury, and a third 
 rebellion. Before, however, we can proceed to this, 
 the last scene in Edward's life, we must pause for a 
 moment, to pass in review some important English 
 transactions. 
 
CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH. 
 
 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.— THE COM- 
 MISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 A.D. 1299—1305. 
 
 A CONTROVERSY of some duration sprang up in 
 the latter years of king Edward's reign ; and it is 
 one which can only be properly understood when 
 disentangled from the other contentions in which he 
 was involved, and considered altogether apart. We 
 allude to the strife which continued during all the 
 years between 1299 and 1305, on the subject of 
 the proper execution of the Charter of Forests. We 
 have already remarked, more than once or twice, that 
 most of our historians have confused the question, by 
 speaking in general terms of Edward's unwillingness 
 to confirm " the charters," — a vague way of speaking 
 which entirely clashes with what we know of Edward's 
 continued efforts, during more than twenty years, to 
 strengthen and enlarge Magna Charta, by turning it 
 into statute-law. And we have also explained, that 
 the points which were really in dispute were these 
 two : — first, the king's right of taking ^' talliages or 
 prises" without consulting parliament ; and, secondly, 
 a reduction of the royal forests, under the name and 
 form of "a new perambulation." 
 
 In tracing the history, and the result, of these 
 
320 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 two struggles, it is of great importance to remark, at 
 the outset, that Edward had reigned for a quarter of 
 a century before any controversy on either of these 
 points broke out. From 1272 to 1297 had the king 
 lived among his people, usually meeting his parlia- 
 ment twice or thrice in each year, and during all that 
 time not a syllable had been heard, either of any 
 burdensome " prise or talliage," or of any desire for 
 '^new perambulations." In fact, the real and pri- 
 mary authors of all his troubles during the last ten 
 years of his life, were, Philip of France abroad ; and 
 the restless and crafty Winchelsey at home. Until 
 disturbed and molested by these two men, Edward 
 had been able so to conduct his affairs as to leave 
 his subjects almost free from taxation. And during 
 all these five-and-twenty years, we hear no com- 
 plaint, either of "the public burdens," or of any 
 mismanagement of the royal demesnes. This long 
 period of peace and contentment was terminated, 
 at last, by Philip's seizure of Gascony, and by 
 Winchelsey's attempt to gain for the church an 
 exemption from taxation. 
 
 No one, surely, will for a moment deny, that 
 Edward was wholly blameless in both these quarrels. 
 To have patiently or sluggishly submitted to the 
 treachery and fraud practised by Philip, would at 
 once have removed Edward's name from the higliest 
 place among English kings, and would have degraded 
 it to almost the lowest. He had no choice in this matter, 
 but between resistance or dishonor. Equally certain 
 is it, that the immunity claimed b}^ the pope and the 
 primate, for the clergy, in the matter of taxation, was 
 a pretension utterly untenable and unjust, and one 
 which the king was bound to resist. 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING COXTROVICRSY. 321 
 
 But ^liile Edward thus felt himself '- thrice 
 armed " in '- having his quarrel just," he found him- 
 self beset by difficulties through the failure of his 
 accustomed supplies. Hence he was driven, by dire 
 necessity, to souie of those extreme measures which 
 dictators, in any great peril of the state, often feel 
 themselves compelled to use. 
 
 And thus arose that kind of opportunity which 
 often produces " patriots." Two of the great nobles, 
 Hereford and Norfolk, evidently disliked the war. 
 They would not go to Gascony without the king ; — 
 they would not go to Flanders with the king. In 
 what way they would have preserved the honor of 
 England under Philip's fraudulent aggression, has 
 never been explained. They contented themselves 
 with finding fault, and raising difficulties. In their 
 remonstrance presented to the king just before his 
 departure for Flanders, they complain of the burden- 
 some taxation to which they had recently been sub- 
 jected. They also add, in one brief and vague sentence, 
 an allegation, '-that the charter of forests is also 
 violated by the king's officers :" — but no demand for 
 a perambulation or any other remedy is advanced by 
 them. The first of these two complaints was admitted 
 and the remedy applied, that same autumn, by a fresh 
 grant or confirmation of Magna Charta, with a new 
 clause, prohibiting the arbitrary levy of " prises or 
 talliages," without consent of parliament. And so 
 ended that part of the controversy. But the remain- 
 ing clause in their petition, which opened, in the 
 vaguest way, the question of the forests, was left for 
 future discussion. The earls had not, yet, preferred 
 any definite request or demand. 
 
 Such a question, however, when once mooted, was 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 not very likely to sink into forgetfulness. For it con- 
 cerned tlie possession of property, — the right to large 
 landed estates. The "earl" of a connty was, in some 
 sense, the proprietor of that county; or, at least, 
 somewhat more than the nominal lord of it. And a 
 royal forest, situate within it, was just so much taken 
 from the earl's estate ; — and hence, if in any way he 
 could reduce the limits of the forest, he added, there- 
 by, and to the same extent, to his own territory. 
 
 Hereford and Norfolk had already dared the king's 
 anger, once or twice, and had suffered nothing by their 
 audacity. And now, whether prompted merely by 
 their own obvious interests, or advised by Winchelsey, 
 who seems to have been always their counsellor, they 
 boldly demanded '^sl new perambulation." 
 
 For five-and-twenty years, as we have already 
 seen, had Edward reigned, without a complaint hav- 
 ing been made with reference to the royal forests. It 
 is only in 1297 that the first murmur reaches him, 
 that " the charter of forests is violated by the king's 
 officers." He is then just embarking for Flanders ; 
 but so far from slighting or disregarding this com- 
 plaint, on his return, in 1298, he issues a commission 
 to the earl of Lincoln, the earl Warrenne, the bishop 
 of London, the bishop of Lichfield, Robert Fitzwalter, 
 and William le Latimer, " to enquire into all prises, 
 trespasses, and oppressions, committed by the officers 
 of the forests." No backwardness, then, can be 
 charged against Edward, in his mode of dealing with 
 this question. 
 
 But a "redress of grievances," though at first put 
 forward as their object, was not the real object at 
 which the two earls were now aiming. In 1299 and in 
 1300, parliaments were held in London, and in each 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 323 
 
 year the demand put forward is, for " a new peram- 
 bulation," and a "disafforesting." This was anew 
 move in advance, — a direct aggression. The only 
 object that a "perambulation" could have, clearly 
 was, to take something from the royal forests. If it 
 did not mean this, it meant nothing. 
 
 Now this was assailing the king in a manner most 
 disagreeable to his feelings. As we have already 
 seen, he was jealous of any encroachment on the 
 rights of the crown, and held it to be his duty sedu- 
 lously to preserve those rights from any diminution. 
 He had never been charged with any attempt to 
 encroach upon others ; yet now an attempt was made 
 to encroach upon him. For the principle adopted 
 was, " that all additions made to the forests since the 
 coronation of Henry II., should now be disafforested." 
 Thus domains which had been in the possession of the 
 crown for nearly one hundred and fifty years ^ might 
 now be taken away. 
 
 " The royal forests were part of the demesnes of 
 the crown. They were not included in the territorial 
 divisions of the kingdom, civil or ecclesiastical ; nor 
 governed by the ordinary courts of law; but were set 
 apart for the recreation and diversion of the king." 
 And this kind of recreation was the favorite occupa- 
 tion of Edward's leisure-hours. He engaged in it 
 with all the ardour of a naturally-impetuous mind. 
 On one occasion we read of "the great hunt in 
 Ingle wood forest, in which 200 deer were killed ;" on 
 another, of his horse's falling dead under him ; — and 
 in a variety of ways we are made aware of his 
 especial fondness for this diversion. Hence, on every 
 ground, — as an aggression on the domains of the 
 crown, even after a century of quiet possession ; and 
 
 y3 
 
^24 TOE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 as an attempt to interfere with bis own private re- 
 creations,-— Edward felt disposed to dislike and reject 
 this proposal. 
 
 But the two earls, doubtless advised by Winchel- 
 sey, felt that they had the king at a disadvantage, 
 and they continued to press him closely. The same 
 motives which actuated them, must weigh, they well 
 knew, with almost every baron in parliament. Every 
 landed proprietor who had a royal forest in his 
 neighbourhood, might hope to gain something by an 
 investigation of the king's title, and an inquiry as to 
 the proper boundaries. Nor could Edward peremp- 
 torily reject their requests ; for Scotland was still in 
 an unquiet state, and the king could only put down 
 those disturbances by the help of his barons and his 
 parliament. 
 
 In 12 9 T, as we have seen, the complaint of the 
 two earls was, " that the charter of forests is violated 
 by the king's officers." In 1298, bearing in mind 
 this complaint, the king issues a commission, to two 
 earls, two bishops, and two knights, " to enquire into 
 all oppressions committed by the king's officers." 
 But, not satisfied with this, in 1299, the charters are 
 again mentioned in parliament, and now the real 
 object, — disafforesting, — peeps out. A new ^' peram- 
 bulation " is loudly demanded, and it becomes evi- 
 dent that an important reduction of the domains of 
 the crown is the object aimed at. 
 
 So long as the two earls had merely asked for a 
 confirmation of the charters, or for enquiry into the 
 misdoings of the officers of the forests, the king had 
 listened patiently ; and had, in fact, conceded all that 
 they desired. But when they urged these new de- 
 mauds, he grew impatient, and, as twilight was coming 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. '325 
 
 on, he rose and left tlie meetiiig,_telling them that 
 he was going out of town^. The sitting consequently 
 broke up, not without some anger. But the king's 
 marriage with Margaret of France took place that 
 autumn ; and apparently, being in a good humour, and 
 having reflected on the matter in all its bearings, he 
 resolved to gratify the earls so far as to order a new 
 perambulation to be made. Commissions were issued, 
 as we find in Prynne, either in 1299 or 1300, to a 
 great number of the counties, for inquiries into, and 
 reports upon, the boundaries of the royal forests. 
 And thus, when the parliament met, in the Lent of 
 1300, in Westminster, the king was able to inform 
 the members, that the perambulations which they had 
 desired were then in progress ; and that the reports 
 would be ready early in the next year. At that par- 
 liament, also, he passed, as we have mentioned in a 
 former chapter, a new statute "on the charters," 
 which explained and strengthened them on various 
 points, — more especially as to ^' illegal prises and 
 talliages " made by officers of the crown. 
 
 Of the great parliament of Lincoln, held in 1301, 
 we have already given some account. It deserves to 
 be ever remembered in England, on various grounds. 
 It was a large and full assembly, containing, in just 
 numbers and proportions, those same elements which 
 are combined in the British parliament of the present 
 day. It had its earls, and barons, and prelates, in 
 number about one hundred and fifty ; — its knights of 
 the shire, in full tale ; — and its borough representa- 
 tives, in still more numerous array. Its proceedings, 
 too, began to assume that sort of form or order which 
 
 * Matthew of Westminster. 
 
826 THE DISAFFORESTING C0NTE0VER3Y. 
 
 has been preserved in most free representative assem- 
 blies, from that time to the present. The king sent 
 down to " his faithful lords and commons " a message 
 or speech ; to which they, after due deliberation, re- 
 turned a reply. Motions were made, and an address 
 presented to the king, for a change of ministers ; — 
 and the parliament even went so far as to ask to be 
 allowed to name the ministers of the crown. The 
 king, in his turn, gave such a reply as, it may be 
 hoped, a British sovereign of the present day would 
 be advised to give, to any such demand. After a 
 while, this heated and personal contest abated ; the 
 king made some important concessions ; and the 
 parliament granted a supply. Lastly, the pope's 
 audacious claim to the sovereignty of Scotland was 
 taken into consideration ; and a resolute and 
 thoroughly English answer was given to the pontiff's 
 arrogant pretensions. On the whole, there have been 
 few assemblies of this kind, held in England, which 
 have better deserved to be held in honorable remem- 
 brance, than this parliament of Lincoln. 
 
 Its mode of dealing with the foreign question has 
 been described in a former chapter. Its reply to 
 Boniface terminated that controversy. But of the 
 discussions which took place on domestic matters 
 we gain only a few glimpses, which shew, however, 
 so much of the animation and importance of its 
 debates, as to cause deep regret that we have no 
 detailed record of those discussions. Two facts we 
 learn, from allusions to these proceedings made in 
 following years : first, that Winchelsey was a prime 
 though concealed mover in all the attacks made upon 
 tlie king : — and secondly, that under his advice, the 
 carls took another large step in advance ; and, seeing 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 827 
 
 that tliey were likely to obtain the perambulations, 
 now asked, under the crafty primate's instructions, 
 a further concession, which he well knew the king 
 was not likely to grant. 
 
 The Parliaynentary Writs give us some insight 
 into the form and order of public business which had 
 already come into use. Thus, we have a writ dated 
 "Eose Castle, Sept. 25, 1300," addressed to Walter 
 of Gloucester, which recites, " That the said Walter 
 and others had been assigned to make perambulations 
 of the forests : that the king wishes to proceed thereon 
 with the advice of the prelates, earls, barons, and 
 others, without whose counsel the business cannot be 
 duly despatched. That the king wishes to have a col- 
 loquium with the prelates, earls, barons, and with the 
 rest of the communitas of the kingdom, respecting 
 the perambulations, and on other arduous affairs 
 concerning the king and kingdom. The said Walter 
 is therefore enjoined to be before the king in his 
 parliament at Lincoln, within eight days of Hilary, 
 Jan. 20, 1301, to treat and advise with the prelates 
 and magnates, and others of the communitas of the 
 kingdom, on the said affairs : and he is to bring with 
 him all the perambulations made by him and his 
 fellows, with all documents relating to the same." 
 
 There are also other traces of preparations made 
 by the king for this discussion. Thus, in the autumn 
 of 1300, we find a writ dated from " Rose Oastle, 
 Sept. 26," by which the sheriff of Cumberland is 
 enjoined to send two knights for his county, and 
 representatives from each city and borough ; and to 
 cause them to have their expenses. And also, to see 
 that proclamation is made, that all who had lands or 
 tenements within the boundaries of the forests, and who 
 
328 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 wished to impeach the perambulation, should appear 
 before the king in his parliament at Lincoln, to shew 
 cause against the same. Another writ is addressed 
 to the Justice of the Forests north of the Trent, 
 desiring him " to cause all the foresters in his 
 bailiwick to appear before the king in his parliament 
 at Lincoln, to give counsel in the premises." 
 
 Next, parliament being assembled, we have the 
 "Bill," or royal message, sent down from the king to 
 the prelates, earls, and others, on the 20th of January 
 so appointed. It is, probably, the first example 
 of such a document that exists upon our records ; 
 and for plainness, directness, and a wise and con- 
 ciliatory spirit, it has, we apprehend, seldom been 
 exceeded. 
 
 " The king wills that the perambulations of the 
 forests shall be shewn to the ^ bones gentz ' who are 
 come to this parliament. When they shall have 
 examined the same, and shall have considered the 
 evidence which is to be produced, the king wills that 
 the perambulation shall stand, if they advise that it 
 shall be so ; and that the king can assent thereunto 
 without violating his coronation-oath, and disinherit- 
 ing the crown. If any matters require to be re- 
 dressed or changed, let it be done in such convenient 
 way as they may advise and provide ; or, if this 
 please them not, let some middle way be provided, 
 so that the business may be settled in a convenient 
 manner ; having regard to the dignity of the crown, 
 which shall not thereby be affected ; and so that their 
 oaths, and the oath of the king, relating to the rights 
 of the crown, may be saved." 
 
 In the Parliaiuenfanj Writs, the final result, or 
 conclusion, to which this parliament seems to have 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 329 
 
 come, is given immediately after the royal message. 
 In this, however, as in many other similar cases, 
 the formal record of the business transacted, affords 
 but a faint and imperfect idea of the character of the 
 debates, or of the real object of the principal movers 
 in the transaction. But, fortunately, two or three 
 chronicles of the period remain, which are entirely 
 in agreement with each other, and which shew, that 
 the turbulent and ambitious primate had succeeded 
 in forming a powerful and a treasonable confeder- 
 acy, and in bringing matters to the very verge of a 
 civil war. 
 
 The Chronicle of St. Albans' says : — 
 " The parliament was protracted by numerous 
 disagreements among the nobles. They had formed 
 a plan to harass the king, and provoke him to anger, 
 by demanding a right to appoint the chancellor, the 
 chief justiciary, and the treasurer." The king is 
 said to have replied, — " Would ye deny us a right 
 which every one of you enjoys ? Each head of a 
 house among you has power over that house. Why 
 do ye not demand the crown itself ? — you might as 
 well do that as make it a shadow. In your own 
 households ye may prefer, — ye may pass over, — ye 
 may depose this man, or that. And would ye deny 
 us the same right ? Nay, truly, the king shall 
 appoint his chancellor, his justiciary, his treasurer, 
 during his own pleasure ; or else king ice tvill not &e." 
 He added, " If our justiciary, or any officer shall do 
 unjustly, and the offence is not punished, then, indeed, 
 complain if ye will." — " Straightway," continues 
 the chronicler, " those who had urged the demand, 
 blushed. Many, however, preferred the confederacy 
 and war, to peace ; and this preference did not escape 
 
330 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 the king's notice. But wlien the nobles generally saw 
 how vain their demands were, they humbled them- 
 selves before the king, and asked pardon for their 
 presumption." 
 
 Of the same transactions, Peter Langtoft gives 
 this account :— 
 
 "The erles and barons at tlieir first summoning, 
 For many manner reasons 'plained to the king. 
 4«- ^ * ^ 
 
 And next they made plaint of his Treasorere ; 
 
 That evil things attaint he maintained thro' power. 
 
 "Of many has it been told ; to thee we 'plain us here ; 
 
 Him for to remove through common assent. 
 
 Assign it for more prow (honor) to this parlement ; 
 
 That can that office give, and do the right usage." 
 ■5f 4f * ^ 
 
 The king's answer was smart : — " I see ye will, 
 
 Thro' pride of heart, revile me with unskille : 
 
 And so low me to chace, mine officers to change, 
 
 And make them at your grace ; — that were me over strange. 
 
 There is none of you, hut he Avill at his might, 
 
 Have sergeants for his prow, withouten other sight. 
 
 Shall no man put through skille his lord lower than he ; 
 
 Ne I nor shall nor will, while I your king shall he. 
 
 If any of mine make strife, or taken thing not right, 
 * * * * 
 
 That wrong I will so mende, if that it he attaint. 
 
 That none shall come or send, to make more plaint. 
 'X- * * -5f 
 
 The parties were so felle altercande on ilk side, 
 That none could easily tell, whether war or peace would tide. 
 But God that is of might, and may help when he will. 
 For both the parties dight, and put them in his skille." 
 
 We gather, then, from these two contemporary 
 writers, that a confederacy had been formed, and that 
 even civil war was contemplated by some of the par- 
 ties. But what occasion, what provocation, had the 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 831 
 
 king given, for any such extreme and violent course ? 
 For several years past, powerful and courageous as 
 lie undoubtedly was, his whole course had been one 
 of concession. First, the two earls, disliking the 
 war in Flanders, begged him to excuse them, and to 
 appoint ' substitutes in their room. He accepted 
 their excuses, and appointed substitutes. They then 
 sent after him to Flanders, a request, that he would 
 add a new and important clause to Magna Charta ; 
 and also would pardon their offences. He granted 
 both of these requests. Xext, remembering that 
 they had complained of offences committed by the 
 officers of the forests, he issues, on his return 
 home, a commission to enquire into this matter-. 
 Their next demand is, for a new perambulation 
 of the forests. This, as a direct aggression, excites 
 his anger ; but, after a little consideration, he 
 issues writs conceding this point also. And now 
 he meets his parliament with a mass of " reports of 
 perambulations," and desires them, in the most con- 
 ciliatory manner, to counsel him, whether they think 
 that these perambulations should stand, and be 
 accepted, or whether the}^ desire any other course to 
 be taken. What, then, in the king's whole conduct, 
 had given any ground or provocation for this " con- 
 federacy," in which even civil war was contemplated ? 
 Clearly, nothing. 
 
 Yet the fact, which is thus briefly stated in the 
 St. Albans' Chronicle, is confirmed by three other 
 documents. In Leland's Collectanea we find extracts 
 
 * And not only so; — but Tve find writs of the date of May 
 1300, appointing three justices in Leicestershire, and the hke in 
 other counties, " to hear and determine in a summaiy manner, all 
 complaints of transgressions against the charters." 
 
832 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 from Pakingfons Chronicle, one of which runs thus : 
 — (under the date of 1302) :— ''There was opened to 
 king Edward a conspiracy, wrought by the archbishop 
 of Canterbury, and divers counts and barons against 
 him." Again, William Thorn, a monk of Canterbury, 
 narrating Edward's speech to Winchelsey, when he 
 remitted him to the pope, states the king to have 
 reminded the archbishop, of " the treason which at 
 our parliament at Lincoln you plotted against us." 
 And, in 1305, Edward, in issuing a new " ordinance 
 of the forest" says, in it, that "he was minded that 
 the perambulation should stand ; albeit that the thing 
 teas sued and demanded in an evil points Thus, 
 again and again we find traces of the fact which is 
 stated in the Bt. Albans' Chronicle, that the arch- 
 bishop and some of the barons had entered into a 
 confederacy^, in which war (^. e. rebellion) was seri- 
 ously contemplated as possible. 
 
 Edward's firmness, moderation, and skill, however, 
 proved more than a match for Winchelsey, and finally 
 extricated him from this perilous situation. While he 
 utterly rejected the demand, that he should give up 
 the nomination of his own ministers, and so make the 
 crown a mere shadow, he himself proposed a middle 
 course. Langtoft described him as saying, — 
 
 " Of this I grant tliis mom, that ye trie this thing 
 With six-and-twcntie sworn, — if I to your asking 
 May accorde right -well, the crownc for to save 
 Dismemhered not a whit, — your asking ye shall have." 
 
 " The wisest of the clcrgie, with erles and harons, 
 Together went, to trie of their petitions." 
 
 This " select committee " finally brought matters to 
 a practical issue. It must have been judiciously and 
 fairly selected ; for while we find, on one hand, proofs 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 333 
 
 of Winclielsey's presence and influence, in the reser- 
 vation of the question as to the taxation of the clergy; 
 the demand for a transfer of the regal authority to 
 parliament, in the matter of the nomination of 
 ministers, dwindles down to a request, that '' audi- 
 tours " be appointed ; which request the king declines 
 to grant. The final result is given in the Parliamen- 
 tary Wriis, in the shape of a reply of the parliament 
 to the royal message. In that reply, the parliament 
 says, that '^ the ' gentz de la communaute de la terre ' 
 shew unto the king, that they dare not answer which 
 of the two ways should be adopted ; on account of the 
 perils which might ensue." But, instead of adopting 
 or rejecting the king's proposal, they submit for his 
 consideration twelve articles, or propositions : these, 
 generally, are to the following purport : — That the 
 great charters be observed : that all statutes contrary 
 thereto be repealed : that the powers of the justices 
 to be named for the maintenance of the charters, be 
 clearly defined : that the perambulations not yet 
 completed be finished by the Michaelmas next ensu- 
 ing; &c. &c. 
 
 To nine of these propositions the king gives his 
 immediate assent. To two he gives qualified and 
 doubtful answers. To one only,— that in which the 
 barons say, that they cannot insist on the taxation of 
 the clergy, against the will of the pope, — the king 
 gives his distinct disapproval. We shall give these 
 three articles in the Appendix'-^, together with the 
 answers of the king. 
 
 These twelve articles, then, with the king's assent 
 to nine of them, seem to have ended the disafforesting 
 
 '1= See Appendix K. 
 
334 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 question, so far as this parliament was concerned. 
 As a general result, we may say, that the king had 
 piloted the vessel of the state through a difficult and 
 perilous passage. The confederacy was defeated. Win- 
 chelsey's purpose, of weakening the crown by involv- 
 ino^ it in war with the barons, was frustrated. Edward 
 succeeded in keeping his parliament together. There 
 were no " withdrawals in anger," as there had been 
 on previous occasions. The barons, including even 
 Hereford and Norfolk, passed on to the next ques- 
 tion, the letter of pope Boniface ; and they gave that 
 letter a fitting reply. They then voted the king a 
 fifteenth, and agreed to join him, in the summer, for 
 a march into Scotland. 
 
 On the other hand Winchelsey had succeeded in 
 doing some mischief. Though it is impossible, at this 
 distance of time, to learn the details, it seems toler- 
 ably clear, that the king was obliged to yield, in the 
 matter of forest-boundaries, more than he felt to be 
 right and just. This clearly appears, in the occur- 
 rences of the following years. And, whatever wrong 
 of this kind may have been done, the primate strove 
 to render firm and irrevocable, by rising, at the close 
 of the assembly, and pronouncing the greater excom- 
 munication against all who should depart from the 
 agreement then made. He also adhered to his former 
 course, of refusing to give the king any "aid" from 
 the funds of the church. 
 
 And so ended this great parliament, — an assembly 
 of the most remarkable character, whether we look at 
 its patriotic and spirited reply to the pretensions of 
 the pope ; or at its large and full exercise of all the 
 proper duties of a representative assembty. With 
 reference to the disafforesting controversy, it seems to 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 33S 
 
 have disturbed, rather than settled, the question. It 
 established those new and reduced boundaries which 
 had for some time previous been demanded ; — but, 
 effecting this in a sudden and abrupt manner, it left 
 occasion for many subsequent alterations. 
 
 The next step we perceive to have been taken, is 
 one, which, like many other of Edward's acts, has 
 been grossly misrepresented by some prejudiced his- 
 torians. It is said, in some of their narratives, that 
 he "persecuted the two earls ;" and it is always im- 
 plied, that his animosity was excited by their zeal 
 for "the charters " 
 
 Now, if we look closely at the king's steps, we 
 shall find him perpetually associating with these two 
 noblemen on friendly terms, long after they had 
 opposed him in the matter of the charters. But the 
 question he had now to deal with, was one of high 
 treason. It was the same for which many great men, 
 in various periods of the seventeenth and eighteenth 
 centuries, died on the scoffcld. Yet Edward dealt 
 with it in the most noble and generous way. 
 
 " There was opened to king Edward," says Paking- 
 ton in his Chronicle, " a conspiracy, wrought by the 
 archbishop of Canterbury, and divers counts and 
 barons, against him, at such time as he was in Flan- 
 ders. And when the earl marshal was examined of 
 this, and was not well able to clear himself, he made 
 the king his heir, and put him in possession of all 
 his lands. And the king gave him his lands again 
 during his life; and also land of £1,000 value in 
 addition." 
 
 Several of the chroniclers state, that the earl had 
 no children, and was on bad terms with his brother, 
 who was a wealthy ecclesiastic. But, whether this 
 
336 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 were so, or not, it is clear tliat the cjjarge brought 
 against him was one which involved him in great 
 peril. Not only the writers whom we have already 
 quoted, but Walsingham also, states, that it had been 
 contemplated to employ force against the king. Now 
 any man, called before the king's council on such a 
 charge as this, would perceive, that not his estates 
 merely, but his life also, was in danger. Hence his 
 wisest and safest course, especially with such a 
 monarch as Edward, was, an immediate and frank 
 submission. 
 
 And such a course, with the king, alwaj^s led to 
 a restoration of good feeling. In the days of the 
 Stuarts, a nobleman who had been guilty of '• conspir- 
 ing against the king," would soon have found his way 
 to the scaffold. With Edward, the usage was very 
 different. A face-to-face encounter, ■ — a frank con- 
 fession and surrender on the earl's part, was soon 
 followed by forgiveness on the part of the king, and 
 so the whole quarrel ended. 
 
 The case of the earl of Hereford differed in one 
 important respect from that of Norfolk. The con- 
 spiracy spoken of by Pakington was said to have; 
 been commenced in the year 1297, when the king 
 was in Flanders ; although its last and most strenu- 
 ous effort was made in 1301. But the earl of 
 Hereford, who had been Norfolk's supporter in 1297, 
 had died in the autumn of the following year, and 
 the [present earl was a young man, his son. He had 
 probably merely followed in his father's steps, without 
 any deep involvement in the plot. The king called 
 him to an account, as well as Norfolk ; but the young 
 man found a different way of making his peace. He 
 asked for the hand of one of the king's daughters ; 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 337 
 
 and, having, like Norfolk, pleaded guilty, lie surren- 
 dered, like liira, his estates to the king, receiving 
 them back again with the hand of the young princess. 
 And so ended this transaction, which some historians 
 have described as a " persecution " of the two earls. 
 
 Winchelsey, then, had not only been foiled, but 
 the king had fully succeeded in breaking up his 
 *' confederacy." Without severity or vengeance of 
 any kind, Edward had fairly taken the two earls away 
 from the primate ; and was now at liberty to deal, at 
 his leisure, with the chief conspirator. 
 
 It seems probable, too, from a circumstance 
 which will presently appear, that the young earl of 
 Hereford, on becoming the king's son-in-law, had 
 given Edward full explanations as to the past, and had 
 placed in his hands written evidence against Winchel- 
 sey ; for, shortly after, we find the king resolving to 
 take decisive measures against the archbishop. But 
 with Edward all was orderly and legitimate. Win- 
 chelsey had no reason to fear the fate of Thomas 
 a Becket, or of the archbishop whom Henry lY. sent 
 to the scaffold. The king under whom he lived could 
 resolutely withstand either a pope or a primate, when 
 he felt his own cause to be a just one ; — but his 
 respect for the church, and for the forms of law, was 
 sincere and deeply rooted. He had the highest kind 
 of complaint to prefer against this intriguing and tur- 
 bulent prelate ; but he resolved to lay it before the 
 pope, and to send the cause to him for judgment. His 
 ambassadors therefore placed the matter in the hands 
 of the pontiff, who immediately cited the archbishop 
 to Rome, to answer for his conduct. William Thorn, 
 a monk of Canterbury, thus describes the next 
 scene : — " When the archbishop knew that he was 
 
 z 
 
338 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 thus cited, he went to the king to ask for permission 
 to cross the sea. And when the king heard of his 
 coming, he ordered the doors of his presence-chamber 
 to be thrown open, that all who wished might enter, 
 and hear the words which he should address to him. 
 And, having heard the archbishop, he thus replied to 
 him : — ' The permission to cross the sea which you 
 ask of us we willingly grant you ; — but permission to 
 return grant we none : — bearing in mind your trea- 
 chery, and the treason which at our parliament at 
 Lincoln you plotted against us ; — ivhereof a letter 
 under your seal is ivitness, and plainly testifies against 
 you.' ' We leave it to the pope to avenge our 
 wrongs ; and as you have deserved, so shall he recom- 
 pense you. But from our favor and mercy, which 
 you ask, we utterly exclude you ; because merciless 
 you have yourself been, and therefore deserve not to 
 obtain mercy.' " 
 
 And so we part with Winchelsey, who disappears 
 from this historj^ ; not returning to England until the 
 weak and troubled reign of Edward II. gave him re- 
 entrance, and supplied him with new opportunities 
 for treason and conspiracy ; all his plans and objects 
 having one end in view, — the prostration of the royal 
 authority at the feet of the pontifical. But, in taking 
 leave of him we feel inclined to contrast, for a few 
 moments, his character with that of another prelate 
 to whom he was, in this" parliament of Lincoln, es- 
 pecially opposed. It will be remembered, that one 
 especial demand of the "confederacy" was, the 
 dismissal and disgrace of the king's treasurer ; and 
 the concession of the future appointments to that 
 ofiice, to the parliament. Now this treasurer, against 
 whom the conspirators preferred such complaints, was 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 339 
 
 Walter Langton, bishop of Chester. And the guiding 
 spirit of the conspiracy was, as we have seen, Robert 
 Winchelsey, archbishop of Canterbury. Let us, then, 
 briefly sketch the history of these two men, — one of 
 whom was Edward's principal domestic foe ; the 
 other, his most trusted servant and minister. 
 
 Robert Winchelsey, who came to the primacy in 
 1295, was as restless, arrogant, and intriguing an 
 ecclesiastic, as had filled the archiepiscopal chair 
 since the days of Thomas a Becket. In fact, he 
 seems to have been selected by the enterprising 
 Boniface YIII., as a fit agent to carry on the work 
 of Becket and Pandulph. But, to do this with any 
 efficiency, under such a prince as Edward, it was 
 necessary to affect the tone and language of Stephen 
 Langton. 
 
 As an ecclesiastical superior, Winchelsey was 
 arrogant and tyrannical. He had one long contest 
 with the monks of St. Augustine's in Canterbury ; 
 another with the earl of Lancaster ; one year we 
 find him excommunicating the constable of Dover 
 Castle ; the next, the bishop of London ; the next, 
 the prior and canons of Gloucester, and so on to the 
 end of the story. But these were merely the amuse- 
 ments of his leisure hours. The grand business of 
 his life, as of Becket's, was to bring, if possible, the 
 crown into subserviency to the papal tiara. 
 
 He had no sooner landed from Rome, and taken 
 possession of his see, than he convened, says Matthew 
 of Westminster, some of his suffragans in the church 
 of St. Paul, London, " for a special discussion on the 
 liberties and customs of the church; — reviving and 
 re-establishing certain constitutions which had been 
 approved by the holy fathers, but which, by neglect, 
 
 ♦ z3 
 
840 THE DISAFFOEESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 had fallen into disuse." The real drift of all this 
 "revival ef certain liberties of the chnrch" soon ap- 
 peared. A very few months had elapsed, before the 
 king was compelled, by Philip's seizure of Gascony, 
 to call upon his subjects for aid ; and at once the 
 archbishop revealed his real purpose, by producing 
 a papal mandate, which he, probably, had brought 
 with him from Rome, forbidding the clergy any longer 
 to grant "aids" to the king without the special per- 
 mission of the pope. 
 
 This novel assumption, which at once made the 
 pope, and not the king, the ruler over a large part of 
 England, might have succeeded in either of the two 
 preceding, or in the succeeding reign; but in Edward, 
 the crafty churchman had met with more than his 
 match. By making them practically feel the meaning 
 of the word "outlawry" the kiug soon brought the 
 clergy to a clearer understanding of their real posi- 
 tion. 
 
 But, though defeated in his first attempt, Win- 
 chelsey was not discouraged. Unable, alone, to cope 
 with the power of the crown, he immediately began 
 to form "conspiracies" and "confederacies" with 
 any whom he perceived to be discontented. And in 
 this way, by fostering and encouraging the resistance 
 of Norfolk and Hereford, he managed to keep the 
 king in a state of conflict and discomfort from 129G 
 to 1301; and in this last year, he had proceeded to 
 the verge of a civil war. The king, at last, irritated 
 and seriously aggrieved, sent him to the pope for 
 judgment, and so, in effect, cast him out of the realm. 
 But the man, and his plans and purposes, remained 
 unchanged. So soon as this great king, the only per- 
 son who could control him, was gone, Winchelsey 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTIIOVERSY. 341 
 
 crept back again into England, and we soon find him, 
 under the weak and incapable Edward II., leading 
 the discontented barons, and again attempting to 
 enact the part of Stephen Langton. Such was 
 Winchelsey, — a fit agent of the papal court; but 
 to England, a troubler and an intestine foe. 
 
 Contrast with him the man who, in confederacy 
 with the discontented barons, he essayed, in 1301, to 
 crush, — Walter Langton, bishop of Chester, the 
 king's treasurer, and one of his most valued servants. 
 Had we no further knowledge of this prelate than 
 the fact, that the conspirators at Lincoln prayed the 
 king 
 
 " Him to remove by common assent," 
 
 we might feel a doubt, whether the king had shielded 
 an unworthy favorite, or the barons had conspired 
 against an officer of inconvenient integrity. Happily, 
 we are enabled to discover a few other facts respect- 
 ing Walter Langton, and those facts all redound 
 greatly to his honor. 
 
 Foremost of these, must be placed his steady 
 resistance to the excesses of the young prince, and 
 his favorite Gaveston. The king was now in the 
 decline of life ; and the young Edward had every 
 prospect of being king in a few years. Langton was 
 treasurer, and had the duty assigned to him of pro- 
 viding the young prince with a regular and a liberal 
 income. What could have been a more obvious policy, 
 with any minister of flexible morality, than to culti- 
 vate, by any practicable means, the good opinion and 
 the favor of the young prince and of his minion ? 
 Yet we find Langton, during all the latter years of 
 this reign, in a state of constant warfare with young 
 Edward and with G-aveston. And as one very natural 
 
342 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 result, — a result which the bishop himself must 
 always have coutemplated, — we find Edward II., as 
 one of his first acts on ascending the throne, depriv- 
 ing Langtou of all his oSices, throwing him into 
 prison, and granting to Gaveston all the moveable 
 property of the deprived prelate. This single fact, 
 of itself, is sufficient to give us a favorable impres- 
 sion of Langton's character. To have withstood the 
 follies of the j^oung prince and his favorite, and to 
 have been persecuted by them for so doing, are surely 
 circumstances which tell much in Langton's favor. 
 But they do not stand alone. 
 
 Two or three j^ears pass over, during which the 
 poor ex-treasurer languishes in prison ; while his 
 enemies are occupied with the endeavour to find 
 evidence to warrant his condemnation. The discon- 
 tented barons at Lincoln had brought " many com- 
 plaints " against him. If he had actually wronged 
 any man, that person would now have the strongest 
 reason for laying the crime to his charge ; for in so 
 doing he would not only gratify his own natural desire 
 for vengeance, but would also please those who were 
 now in power. But what do we hear ? After being 
 immured in a prison for nearly three years, Lang- 
 ton is at last released, — there being no case against 
 him. Under all the circumstances, we doubt if any 
 higher or more triumphant proof of the integrity of 
 the ex-treasurer's character could have been given. 
 
 But even this is not all. Winchelsey, the restless 
 intriguer, has now returned, the only man who could 
 keep him in check having been removed ; and this 
 factious ecclesiastic at once resumes his former work, 
 just where he had been forced to drop it; and begins 
 to conspire against the son, as he had been used to do 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 343 
 
 against tlie father. The '• confederacy" of the barons 
 is revived, and Winchelsey is again its inspiring 
 genius. What could have been more natural than 
 for Langton, indignant at the persecution which he 
 had endured, to have joined with eagerness this 
 confederacy, the main object of which was, to get rid 
 of Gaveston, the cause of all his sufferings ? But 
 the course taken by this honest minister was one 
 of singular integrity. He had been "imprisoned, 
 deprived of his offices, and stripped of all his pro- 
 perty ;" and yet, after all, his persecutors had been 
 obliged to admit his innocence, and to let him go free ; 
 and now " he was the only prelate who refused to join 
 the confederacy against Edward II.*" Notwithstand- 
 ing all the wrongs which he had received at the 
 young king's hands, this noble-minded man remem- 
 bered his great master, and that master's faithful 
 support of him against his enemies at Lincoln ; and 
 he refused to take part in any conspiracy against that 
 master's son. But the proof of Langton's purity and 
 integrity does not even end here. He had been 
 released, — the charges against him were now known 
 to be groundless ; but one more evidence, of the 
 highest kind, was yet to be given. Three or four 
 years after he had ignominiously expelled the bishop 
 from his office, and ordered his imprisonment and his 
 prosecution, the young king himself felt compelled to 
 pay a reluctant tribute to Langton's ability and integ- 
 rity, by actually asking him to resume the treasurer- 
 ship, and to serve him as faithfully as he had served 
 his father ! Considering all the past quarrels between 
 these two men, and their frequent collisions and con- 
 
 * History of Lichfield Cathedral, p. 57. 
 
344 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 sequent ill-blood, this application must be admitted 
 to be one of the most strildng proofs of integrity that 
 an expelled and disgraced officer ever received. And, 
 taken in connexion with the first Edward's other 
 selections, of such men as Burnel, Brabazon, &c., it 
 gives us a deep impression both of that king's skill 
 and judgment in selecting his ministers, and also of 
 his firm and steady support of them in the discharge 
 of their duty. 
 
 But we must terminate this discussion, and go 
 back to the moment of Winchelsey's disgrace and 
 banishment to Rome : — The chief criminal had thus 
 been punished ; but, as in many similar cases, the 
 effects of his crime remained. He had fostered the 
 discontent of the earls, and had guided and suggested 
 their course. At Lincoln, though substantially 
 defeated, the ^^ confederacy " evidently obtained from 
 the king some larger concessions, in regard to the 
 forests, than he thought just or right ; and the arch- 
 bishop adroitly struck in, at the close of the matter, 
 with his denunciation of the greater excommunication, 
 which was calculated and intended to make those 
 concessions unalterable and irrevocable. But this 
 violent way of ending and deciding a great and intri- 
 cate controversy only led, as violent courses usually 
 do, to further complications. Questions of title and 
 boundary, in the case of territory or landed estates, 
 are those which, beyond most others, require patience 
 and moderation. The king, also, in the present 
 instance, was dealt with in a manner which the great 
 barons themselves would not tolerate in their own 
 cases. Twenty years before this period, the king had 
 proposed a general investigation of titles ; and one of 
 the earls at once drew his sword, exclaiming, " It was 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 345 
 
 by this that my forefathers won their lands, and by 
 it I mean to maintain them." To this repugnance the 
 king gavQ way. But now a different rule was to be 
 applied to the royal domains. The principle asserted 
 was, that whatever could not be shewn to have been 
 forest at the accession of Henry II. in 1154, should be 
 disafforested. The adoption of so wide a range, must 
 inevitably have introduced great differences of opinion. 
 But there can be no doubt that many of the great 
 barons added largely to their estates, at the king's 
 expense, by these " disafforestings," 
 
 Yet, after all, there was another class, and that 
 not a small one, which had a deep interest in these 
 questions, — an interest of a very different, and, indeed, 
 opposite kind to that of the barons. The royal forests 
 were not vast solitudes, or parks occupied solely by 
 animals for the chace. Their borders, especially, 
 were largely peopled by cottagers ; who, under the 
 permission of the king or his oflQcers, had reared up 
 dwellings within the privileged limits, and were 
 allowed pasturage and even some kinds of tillage 
 therein. This whole class of persons now found their 
 position imperiled. A sudden change of owners had 
 in many places been experienced, and often the poor 
 cottager found reason to regret the alteration. In 
 this way, it soon became evident, that the " disaffor- 
 esting" question was not one bearing upon the king's 
 personal recreations merely ; but one which was 
 intimately connected with the interests of thousands 
 of his people. We are not imagining a possible or 
 even a probable case. It is upon record, that divers 
 petitions were sent in to the king, at his parliament 
 of 1305, held at Westminster, on the day before the 
 feast of St. Matthew, by " certain people that be put 
 
346 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 out of the forests by the great men," and who "pray 
 the king that they may be as they were wont to be 
 heretofore." This is set forth in the preamble to the 
 ordinance. It was, then, in answer to the prayers of 
 many who felt themselves aggrieved and oppressed, 
 that the king passed, in that parliament, an " Ordi- 
 nance of the Forests ;" in which, with his usual frank- 
 ness and explicitness, he explains the real position 
 of the question. 
 
 He adverts, first, to the origin of the " disafforest- 
 ing," — saying, " Our lord the king (to these petitions) 
 answers, that since he hath granted the perambulation, 
 he is pleased that it should stand, in like manner as 
 it was granted ; albeit that the thing was sued and 
 demanded in an evil point." 
 
 But next the king proceeds, as far as he was 
 able, to amend the evil complained of, and to give 
 comfort to those who had "cried unto him for 
 succour." He says, that with respect to "them 
 that have lands and tenements disafforested by the 
 late perambulation, and do desire to have common 
 within the bounds of the forests," "the intent 
 and will of our lord the king is," " that if any of 
 them would rather be within the forest as they 
 were before, than out of the forest as they are now, 
 it pleaseth the king very well that they shall be 
 received thereunto ; so that they may remain in their 
 ancient estate, and have common and other easement, 
 as tliey had before. And our lord the king willeth 
 and commandeth, that his justice of the forests, &c., 
 shall take notice of this ordinance." 
 
 This was an attempt to undo, so far as might be, 
 some of the ill consequences of the hasty and violent 
 determinations of 1301. But it may easily be per- 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 847 
 
 ceived, that controversies and collisions would be 
 likely to arise out of this state of things. Upon the 
 strength -of the charters and perambulations, and 
 oaths and excommunications of 1301, the "great 
 men" had begun to take portions of the royal forests 
 to themselves, and to add them to their own estates. 
 They also frequently got rid of the cottagers who had 
 long found a home in the forests ; and proceeded 
 either to add the land to their farms, or to their own 
 grounds. To stop these evictions, the king issues a 
 new ordinance. But that ordinance, when produced, 
 would doubtless be met by an appeal to the charter, 
 to the perambulations, and to the archbishop's ex- 
 communication of all who departed from them. And, 
 with anv churchman, this terrible anathema would 
 be admitted to have a fearful weight. 
 
 It must have been this "conflict of the laws" 
 which drove Edward to a course which, with our 
 light, it is impossible to defend ; but which, in those 
 days, was of a kind which was by far too common. 
 The sentence of a primate could only be absolutely 
 nullified by an authority of a still higher kind. 
 Hence, to undo the act of Winchelsey, the king sent 
 to Eome, and asked of the pope a bull, cancelling 
 and setting aside all the obligations of 1301. 
 
 This is a step which we shall not attempt to jus- 
 tify ; but it was consistent with the belief of those 
 days. Knowing, as we know also, that some vows 
 are rash vows ; that some oaths, like that of Herod 
 (Mark vi. 26), are unfit to be kept ; they believed 
 also, — what we do not believe, — that Christ had left 
 authority with the bishop of Eome, to " bind and 
 loose " in all such matters ; and that when he had 
 declared any oath or vow to be null and void, it 
 
348 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 became as though it had never been given. These 
 views, as we have said, were held by all men at that 
 time* ; and although we now reject them, we ought 
 to judge any man's character mainly by his adhe- 
 rence to what he conscientiously believes to be true ; 
 acting honestly on that measure of light which he 
 230ssesses. 
 
 There was also another feature of the case which 
 greatly weighed with the king, — a feature, too, which 
 our courts of equity up to the present hour always 
 take into the account, when examining into the validity 
 of a man's engagements ; we mean, that of coercion 
 and intimidation. 
 
 He had left Wiuchelsey, in 1297, one of the 
 council of the young prince. The council, on Wal- 
 lace's success, called a parliament in London; and to 
 that parliament there came Hereford and Norfolk, 
 with a large body of armed retainers, and insisted on 
 a fresh confirmation of the charters, with a new 
 clause. Their demands were remitted to Edward in 
 Flanders, with an earnest request, on the part of the 
 council, that he would concede to the wish of the two 
 earls. So advised, the king assented to these propo- 
 sals. Since then, it had been shewn to him, that all 
 these proceedings in 1297 were the result of a con- 
 
 * Thus Mr. Tytler tells us of Bnico's conduct in 1297 ;— that 
 "Bruce went to Carlisle with a numerous attendance of his friends, 
 and was compelled to make oath on the consecrated host, that he 
 would continue faithful to Edward. To give a proof of his 
 lidelity, he ravaged the estates of Sir W. Douglas, then with 
 Wallace, seized his wife and children, and carried them to Annan- 
 dale. Having thus defeated suspicion, and saved his lands, he 
 pi'ivately assembled his lather's retainers, talked lightly of an 
 extorted oath, from u'hich the pope ivoithl absolve him, and urged 
 them to follow him against the English." (Vol. i., p. 12'.).) 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 349 
 
 spiracy between Winclielsey and tlie two earls ; and 
 lie liad had a letter pat into his hands which proved 
 this fact. , At Lincoln, too, in 1301, he had observed 
 the same conspiracy or confederacy at work ; and 
 had again found, that civil war was contemplated and 
 prepared for by the conspirators. Thus, high treason 
 had been, for three or four years, going on all around 
 him. Any man of a generous and noble mind, and 
 with a just sense of his kingly rights, would naturally 
 feel indignant at such treatment ; and Edward, in his 
 application to the pope, dwells especially on these 
 proceedings, as taking from his engagements that 
 character of freedom which ought to attend them. 
 In our own day, if a woman, in contracting a mar- 
 riage, or a man, in giving a bond, is found to have been 
 acting under coercion or fear, or to have been the 
 victim of a conspiracy, those obligations are imme- 
 diately set aside by our courts of equity. Eome, at 
 that time, claimed to be the court of equity for all 
 the sovereigns of Europe, and the pope acted upon 
 those principles which are recognized by English 
 lawyers to the present hour. The bull was granted, 
 and the extorted concessions declared to be null and 
 void. 
 
 Many historians have expressed their wonder, 
 tliat this bull, when obtained, was scarcely acted upon. 
 ^'The power was not, in fact," says Hume, "made use 
 of." "The king made," says Lingard, "no public 
 use of this document." 
 
 This wonder arises from a misconception of the 
 king's real views and objects. Many writers assume, 
 most absurdly, that Edward was hostile to "the 
 charters." Yet one of his first acts, as Hume admits, 
 after receiving the papal absolution, was to grant 
 
360 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 " a new confirmation of the charters ;" thus shewing, 
 in the most direct and palpable manner, that it was 
 not against "the charters " that his efforts had been 
 directed. 
 
 If we wish to understand the king's actions, and 
 their motives, we have only to study his own words, 
 and there we shall soon discover, that it was to rectify 
 some of the evil consequences of the disafforesting 
 regulations of 1305, and to nullify Winchelsey's sen- 
 tence of excommunication, that this papal absolution 
 was procured. The bull arrived in Easter 1306, 
 and its publication declared to the people that the 
 archbishop's anathema was made null and void. But 
 the king left them but a short time in doubt as to his 
 intentions ; for on the 28th of Mav came forth that 
 remarkable statute which appears on the 147th page 
 of the Statutes of the Realm, and in which the king 
 addresses himself to the hearts and understandings 
 of his subjects, in the following fervent expres- 
 sions : — 
 
 "The king, to all whom, &c. — G-reeting: 
 "While we behold the imperfection of human 
 weakness, and weigh with attentive consideration the 
 burdens that lie upon our shoulders, we are inwardly 
 tormented with divers compunctions, tossed about by 
 the waves of divers thoughts, and are frequently 
 troubled, passing sleepless nights, hesitating in our 
 inmost soul upon what ought to he done, what to be 
 held, or what to be prosecuted. Yet, under Him 
 who holding in heaven the empire over all things, 
 bringeth every thing into existence^ and dispenseth 
 the gifts of His grace as it plcaseth Him, while the 
 understandings of men cannot conceive the greatness 
 of his wisdom, We do resume our power ^ — trusting 
 
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 351 
 
 that He will perfect our actions in His service ; and 
 in the clemency of His goodness, will mercifully look 
 upon, and supply our deficiency, — that we, relying 
 on His protection, may be directed in the path of 
 our Lord's commandments. Trulv, amono- all the 
 things that rest upon our care, about this chiefly is 
 our mind busied without intermission, that we may 
 provide ease and comfort for our subjects dwelling in 
 our realm, in whose quietness we have rest, and in 
 whose tranquillity we are comforted. We have learned, 
 by the information of our faithful servants, and by 
 the cries of the oppressed, that the people of our 
 realm are, by the officers of our forests, oppressed 
 
 and troubled with manv wronp^s, 
 
 Wherefore, being desirous to prevent such oppres- 
 sions, and grievances, and to provide 
 
 with our most diligent endeavour for the peace and 
 tranquillity of the inhabitants of our realm, We 
 have ordained, 
 
 1. (Of presentments of offences.) 
 
 2. (Of supplying of officers.) 
 
 3. (No officer to be of any jury.) 
 
 4. (Punishment of officers surcharging.) 
 
 5. (Trespassers in grounds disafforested.) 
 
 6. " And moreover we will, that they which had 
 common of pasture in the forest before the perambu- 
 lation was made, and who were restrained of com- 
 mon by the late perambulation, shall have their 
 common of pasture hereafter in the forest, as freely 
 and largely as they wont to have before the perambu- 
 lation was made." 
 
 This ordinance was sent to the several counties of 
 England, and ordered to be publicly proclaimed. 
 And in it we see the fruit, and the only fruit, of 
 
352 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 
 
 the papal absolution. It is hardly correct to say, as 
 some historians have said, that the king made no use 
 of the bull of absolution : we believe that he made 
 all the use of it that he ever intended or desired to 
 make. In some way or other, he had felt himself in 
 a measure uncroumed by some regulation made at 
 Lincoln ; and hence he says, on obtaining the papal 
 annulment, " We do resume our power." But then, 
 the only use he makes of that power, is to relieve 
 those who, by the disafforesting, " were put out of 
 the forests by the great men," and who cried to him 
 for help. As for any infringement or retrenchment, 
 either of Magna Charta, or of the Charter of the 
 Forests, not the least step of the kind is imputed to 
 him, even by the most prejudiced of all the historians. 
 Yet are some of these very ready to ascribe to him 
 a desire or intention of this kind ; although they 
 admit that for some undiscoverable reason, it never 
 exhibited itself in action ! 
 
 Such, then, was the real character, and such the 
 practical results, of those disputes and discussions 
 respecting "the charters," which occurred between 
 1297 and 1306, — i. e. between the twenty-fifth and 
 thirty-fourth years of Edward's reign. On the whole, 
 the people were largely gainers by these discussions ; 
 but, that they were so, is mainly to be attributed to 
 the constant anxiety shewn by the king, to meet 
 generously all the demands which were made upon 
 him ; and to concede to his people all that it was in 
 his power to grant, "without disinheriting the 
 crown." 
 
THE COZilMISSION OF TE.VIUBASTOX, &c. S53 
 
 One or two other matters of minor, but yet of 
 considerable, importance, require to be mentioned at 
 tliis period of the history ; — that is, during the last 
 five years of the king's life. 
 
 We have already dwelt at some length upon 
 Edward's character as a legislator ; and his high 
 rank as a commander requires no proof from us. 
 But England, at this important crisis in her history, 
 needed a man of power in a third capacity, — that 
 of a ruler ; and she found this also in Edward. Two 
 reigns, of sovereigns in various ways unfit to rule, 
 had so far relaxed the bonds of societv, and weak- 
 ened the authority of the law, as to call loudly 
 for the effectual interposition of some one, whose 
 power should be sufficient to make the laws not only 
 theoretically just, but also practically useful. 
 
 Forty or fifty years before this period, Henry III. 
 had been obliged to sit in j^erson on the bench of 
 justice at Winchester, in order to secure the punish- 
 ment of offenders who had rendered even the roads 
 of Hampshire dangerous. Some years later, we have 
 seen earl Warrenne assailing, sword in hand, one of 
 the king's judges in Westminster Hall. Edward had 
 himself suppressed this mutiny ; and, persevering in 
 his determination to make the law respected, he next 
 brought the judges themselves to trial, for corrupting 
 that which it was their especial duty to preserve. 
 His correction of the two earls, Hereford and Glou- 
 cester, who, in his twentieth year, had broken out 
 into a petty and personal warfare ; and his Statute 
 of Winchester " for preserving the public peace and 
 preventing robberies," were further proofs of his 
 sedulous and firm resolve to give his people the 
 benefit of a government of law and order. But, about 
 
 AA 
 
354 TITE CO^[MISSTON OF TEAILBASTOX. &o, 
 
 the tliirty-second year of his reign, he found a new 
 evil iiprearing itself; and, without any delay, he 
 applied to it the most suitable remedy, — a Special 
 Commission. 
 
 The mischief itself, which this new authority was 
 intended to suppress, was described in the writs 
 which gave the commission its existence. Bodies of 
 men had associated themselves together in various 
 parts of the country ; who " for certain rewards, 
 bargained to beat, wound, or evil-intreat, persons 
 named to them, at fairs, markets, or other places ;" 
 and, by the fear which they inspired, these ruffians 
 deterred the sufferers from preferring indictments 
 against them. Such an evil required instant and 
 strong-handed suppression, and this it received at 
 Edward's hands. 
 
 Peter Langtoft, after describing the siege and fall 
 of Stirling, and the death of earl Warrenne, proceeds 
 to describe this evil, and the king's plan for its sup- 
 pression. He says, — 
 
 " After the interment the king took his way ; 
 To the south he went, through Lindesay ; 
 He inquired, as he went, who did such trespass ; — 
 Brake his peace with deed, while he in Scotland was ? 
 Of such should be spoken, if men of them plaint, 
 Those that the peace had broken, if they might be attaint. 
 Wise men of God gave answer to the king, 
 That such folks were, it was a certain thing ; 
 Through the land is done such great grievance, 
 That if not mended soon, a war may rise of chance. 
 These contenders whcre'ci- they assigned a place that is, 
 There they come together, aud made a sikcrnoss (engagement) 
 That they shall all go, to whom or a\ here they will, 
 To rob, beat, or slay, against all manner skill, 
 '.riu-y offer a man to beat, for two shillings or three ; 
 With ])ikcd staves great, beaten shall be be : 
 
THE C0:NDIISSI0N of TEAILBASTON, .l-e. 355 
 
 In fair or market tliey shall seek liim out ; 
 All the laud is set, with such folks stout. 
 
 ji :* 4^ 
 
 For men of such manners, unless there be some justice, 
 In some few years, perchance, a war shall rise. 
 The king heard all they said, — the plaint of each town ; 
 And gave them a new name, and called them ' Trailbastoun.' 
 * -H- •» 
 
 The king through the land did seek men of renown. 
 And with the justices them bound, to sit on Trailbastoun ; 
 Some on quest they 'demned to be bounden in prisons ; 
 And those that fled they banisht as the king's felons." 
 
 The phrase trail-haston is, in old French, " draw 
 the staff." The use and intent of it in the present 
 case has been learnedly discussed by yarious writers ; 
 but it appears to be beyond a donbt that, as sir Francis 
 Palgrare remarks, " it designates the offender, and 
 the offence ; not the court, or tribunal." In the Chron- 
 icle of Rochester, already referred to, — on the margin 
 of which we find various pictorial illustrations, — the 
 representation here given, is of two men fighting with 
 bludgeons. And it is evident that the real object of 
 this special commission was, to put down in a reso- 
 lute and summary manner, what, in modern phrase, 
 would be styled " club-law." These commissions 
 seem to have been so useful and efficient, as to be 
 continued for about eighty years ; or until the middle 
 of the reign of Richard II. Stowe speaks of them as 
 holding special sessions, occasionally, in the metro- 
 polis ; mentioning particularly " at the stone-cross 
 near the Strand, over against the bishop of Coventry's 
 house;" and sometimes within that prelate's man- 
 sion. 
 
 Calling to mind the terrible example made of the 
 judges in the seventeenth year of Edward's reign ; 
 
 A A 3 
 
366 THE COMMISSION OF TEAILBASTON, &c. 
 
 and combining with it this special and vigorous sup- 
 jDression of provincial disorders, we cannot fail to be 
 reminded of the portrait sketched by the Laureate in 
 his recent Idyls ; or avoid a question, whether the 
 poet had not this sovereign in his memory, when he 
 drew such a portrait : — 
 
 " The blameless king went forth and cast his eyes 
 On whom his father Uther left in charge 
 Long since to guard the justice of the king. 
 He looked, and found them wanting ; and as now 
 Men weed the white horse on the Berkshire hills, 
 To keep him bright and clean as heretofore, 
 He rooted out the slothful officer 
 Or guilty, which for bribe had winked at wrong ; 
 And in their chairs set up a stronger race. 
 
 With hearts and hands 
 
 and moving everywhere, 
 
 Cleared the dark places and let in the law, 
 
 And broke the bandit-holds, and cleansed the land." 
 
 One or two other incidents, bearing upon the 
 same point in the king's character, fall in our way at 
 this period ; — that is, in the last three or four years 
 of Edward's life. 
 
 Sir Nicholas de Segrave was a knight of distinc- 
 tion ; probably a brother of John de Segrave, who 
 commanded the English forces at Roslyn. Sir John 
 de Cromwell accused him of treason. Segrave, dis- 
 liking the formalities of a legal investigation, chal- 
 lenged his accuser to decide the question by wager of 
 battle. But Edward, whose discerning mind always 
 revolted from the absurd idea of deciding a question 
 of right or ivrong by mere physical force, and who 
 had, twenty years before, protested against such a 
 proposal when made by two foreign princes, very 
 naturally refused his consent. The combatants, 
 
THE COINnnSSION OF TIL^ILBASTON, Ac. 357 
 
 apparently, thought that they might evade his decision, 
 by crossing the sea, to fight the duel in France. 
 Segrave returned, and was immediately arrested, for 
 disregarding the king's prohibition. The case, doubt- 
 less, was a novel one, and when the offender was 
 brought to trial, the judges remained three days in 
 deliberation ; and at last declared the offender to be 
 liable to the punishment of death, and the forfeiture 
 of his property ; but added, gratuitously, that " it 
 was in the king's power to pardon him." Edward's 
 indignant exclamation seems to reveal one point in 
 his character. "Foolish men," he cried out, ^'' after 
 so long a deliberation, to tell me that it is in my 
 power to have mercy ! Why ! I will do that for a 
 dog who casts himself on my grace ! — of what value, 
 then, is such a recommendation ? However, put 
 your sentence into writing, that it may remain law 
 for the future." Segrave was then remanded to 
 prison ; but after a few days, thirty knights petitioned 
 for his pardon, and offered to be sureties for his 
 future good behaviour. 80 entreated, Edward gave 
 him a free pardon, and released his property from 
 forfeiture. 
 
 In the Placita Boll of 1304, there occurs the 
 following entry : — 
 
 '*' Roger de Hecfham complained to the king, that 
 whereas he was the justice appointed to hear and 
 determine a dispute between Mary, the wife of Wil- 
 liam de Braose, plaintiff, and William de Brewes, 
 defendant, respecting a sum of eight hundred marks, 
 which she claimed from him ; and had decided in 
 favor of the former ; — the said William, immediately 
 after judgment was pronounced, contemptuously 
 approached the bar, and asked the said Roger, in 
 
358 THE COMMISSION OF TEAILBASTOX, ic. 
 
 gross and upbraiding language, if lie would defend 
 that judgment ; — and he afterwards insulted him, in 
 bitter and taunting terms, as he was going through 
 the exchequer-chamber, saying, * Roger, Roger, thou 
 hast now obtained thy will of that thou hast long 
 desired.' 
 
 '^ For this offence, William de Brewes, being 
 arraigned before the king and his council, acknow- 
 ledged his guilt. And because such contempt and 
 disrespect, as well towards the king's ministers, as 
 towards the king himself or his court, are very odious 
 to the king, as hath of late expressly appeared when 
 his majesty expelled from his household, for nearly 
 half a year, his dearly-beloved son, Edward prince of 
 Wales, on account of certain improper words which 
 he had addressed to one of his ministers, and suffered 
 him not to enter his presence until he had rendered 
 satisfaction to the said officer for his offence ; — it was 
 agreed by the king and his council that the aforesaid 
 William should proceed unattired, bareheaded, and 
 holding a torch in his hand, from the king's bench in 
 Westminster Hall, in full court, to the exchequer, and 
 there ask pardon from the aforesaid Roger, and make 
 an apology for his trespass, and shall be afterwards 
 committed to the Tower, during the king's pleasure." 
 
 The pointed reference here made to the king's an- 
 ger and stern rebukes of his son, naturally directs our 
 thoughts to this passage in Edward's life. His pre- 
 scient consciousness of the young prince's weakness, 
 and his strong dislike to Gaveston, his chief seducer, 
 are already well known. We have alluded to one 
 distinguished man, who is indicated in the above 
 extract, as the minister with whom the 3'oung prince 
 had been brought into collision. Walter Langton, 
 
THE COMMISSION OF TEAILBASTON, &c. 859 
 
 bishop of Cliester, (sometimes called bisbop of Lich- 
 field or Coventiy,) was the king's treasurer; and the 
 prince had a stated income payable out of the royal 
 exchequer. Under such guidance as that of Gaveston, 
 it was inevitable that this income would prove insufiB- 
 cient ; and that urgent demands for larger supplies 
 would naturally follow. Hence the quarrels, and the 
 violent lano-uao-e, alluded to in the sentence on William 
 de Brewes. Another glimpse of light on this subject, 
 is afforded by a letter from the prince to the earl of 
 Lincoln, which has recently been discovered in the 
 chapter-house at Westminster. In that letter the 
 prince thus describes these circumstances : — 
 
 " On Sunday, the 13th of June, we came to Mid- 
 hurst, where we found our lord the king, our father. 
 On the Monday following, on account of certain 
 words which, it had been reported to the king, had 
 taken place between us and the bishop of Chester, he 
 was so enraged with us that he has forbidden us, or 
 any of our retinue, to dare to enter his house ; and he 
 has forbidden all the people of his household and of 
 the exchequer to give or lend us anything for the 
 support of our household. We are staying at Mid- 
 hurst to wait his pleasure and favor, and we shall 
 follow after him, as well as we are able, at a distance 
 of ten or twelve miles from his house, until we have 
 been able to recover his goodwill ; which we very 
 much desire. Wherefore we especially entreat you, 
 that on your return from Canterbury, you would come 
 towards us ; for we have great need of your aid and 
 your counsel." 
 
 The firmness and severity of the king, in this 
 instance, was of no ordinary kind, and we know from 
 the after-life of the younger Edward, that extreme 
 
360 THE COMMISSION OF TEAILBASTON, &c. 
 
 severity was absolutely necessary. The royal pro- 
 hibition was so effectual, that the young prince 
 encountered real difficulties, and the king was induced, 
 in the course of July, to recall his prohibition, and to 
 allow things to revert to their ordinary course^. But 
 so long as Gaveston was the prince's companion, it 
 was inevitable that his course should be a vicious 
 and a wretched one. The quarrels with the king's 
 treasurer recurred continually, and in 1305 we read, 
 that, — ■ 
 
 " This j^ear king Edward put his son prince Ed- 
 ward in prison, because that he had riotously broken 
 into the park of Walter Langton, bishop of Chester, 
 and destroyed the deer. And because the prince had 
 done this deed by the procurement of a lewd and 
 wanton person, one Piers Gaveston, an esquire of 
 Gascon}^, the king banished him (Gaveston) out of 
 the realm ; lest the prince, who delighted much in his 
 company, might, by his evil and wanton conduct, fall 
 into evil and naughty rule f." 
 
 We now know, by the sad fate of Edward II., 
 how well-founded were his father's apprehensions. 
 And already, such was Gaveston's ascendancy, and 
 his consequent audacity, that he appears very quickly 
 to have stolen back again into the prince's society. 
 For we find an ordinance for his banishment, dated 
 ^' Lanercost, Feb. 26, 1307," in which he is commanded 
 to swear that he will not return ; and the prince, that 
 he will not recall him. And so strong was the con- 
 viction which had fastened on the king's mind, of the 
 fatal tendency of this friendship, that one of his last 
 
 * See Ajipentlix L. 
 
 t Caxton's Chron., Matthew of Wcstrn., Fabian, Holinslied. 
 
THE COMinSSION OF TEAILBASTON, &c. 851 
 
 injunctions to the prince, just before his death, was, 
 never to recall Gaveston. That injunction, however, 
 was forgotten and disregarded, and the loss of his 
 throne and of his life was young Edward's punish- 
 ment. 
 
 We have now carried the history up to the sixty- 
 seventh year of Edward's life, and the thirty-third 
 year of his reign. One more chapter alone remains, 
 and that will carry us, through rough and stormy 
 scenes, to this great king's grave. 
 
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH. 
 
 ROBEET BRUCE.— HIS ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.— 
 EXASPERATION OF EDWARD.— WAR RENEWED. 
 —DEATH OF THE KING. 
 
 A.D. 130G— 1307. 
 
 We now enter upon the closing period of Edward's 
 life ; — that period, the events of which are so inter- 
 mingled with the rising fortunes of Robert Bruce, 
 as to render its history, so far as it goes, equally the 
 biography of the one and of the other. And pro- 
 bably it will scarcely surprise the reader to find, that 
 our view of the " eminent man^," who afterwards 
 became king of Scotland, differs as much from the cur- 
 rent and popular idea, as, in the preceding chapters, 
 our estimate of the great English king had done. 
 
 Bruce succeeded, like various other valiant 
 knights of the Norman race, in winning for himself a 
 kingdom ; and the Psalmist's words were verified in 
 his case, as they have been in many others, — " So 
 long as thou doest well unto thyself, men will speak 
 good of thee." But before we accept the exaggerated 
 estimate of a recent Scottish writerf, who styles him 
 "the greatest of heroes," Ave should endeavour to 
 arrive at a just conclusion, as to wherein true great- 
 ness or heroism consists. 
 
 * Tytler; wlio, with great judgment, selects the phrase " emi- 
 nent," in preference to either " good " or " great." 
 ] Lord Campbell. 
 
ROBERT BRUCE. 3G3 
 
 It is important to obtain, if possible, a clear and 
 accurate idea upon this point ; as, without this, we 
 shall find ourselves perpetually confounding things 
 which are essentially different, — the merely physical 
 or external greatness which captivates the million, and 
 that true or moral greatness which alone possesses any 
 value in the eyes of the thoughtful and discerning. 
 Between such men as Alexander, Caesar, and Napo- 
 leon, on the one hand, and Alfred, William III., and 
 Wellington on the other, there is no real affinity ; 
 and to confound them all under one head, as men 
 who have " wrought great deeds," is to treat the 
 subject in an ignorant and superficial manner. 
 
 There can scarce^ be a more striking instance of 
 the fallacy of supposing that great deeds suffice, of 
 themselves alone, to constitute a man a hero, than was 
 afforded by the comparatively recent history of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte. Here was an individual who, 
 without any enormous crimes, but by the mere force 
 of his military genius and powerful intellect, had 
 raised himself from the lowest rank above a common 
 soldier, to be the autocrat of the continent of Europe. 
 Over its whole extent, only one or two sovereigns 
 had not yet fallen into a position of subserviency. 
 When he visited Dresden on his way to open his 
 Eussian campaign, '^he was waited upon by a crowd 
 of obsequious kings and princes, who attended at his 
 levees, like satraps before the throne of an Assyrian 
 despot ; and accepted, or seemed to accept, every 
 word which fell from his lips, as if an oracle had 
 spoken-." 
 
 Nor was this very wonderful, for the man who 
 
 # a 
 
 Gleig. 
 
364 ROBERT BRUCE. 
 
 received all this homage, had, indeed, led his con- 
 quering legions over all parts of Europe, except 
 England and the north. He had fought sixty great 
 battles, nearly every one of which was a great victory. 
 He had more than doubled the extent of the French 
 empire, and was now leading half a million of men 
 over the whole width of the European continent, in 
 order to rebuke the stubbornness of Russia. Well, 
 therefore, " might he seem to himself, and to others 
 also, the greatest of all men that had been in the 
 world for some ages*." External or merely mental 
 or physical greatness, could scarcely be carried to a 
 more lofty height. 
 
 Yet what was this same Napoleon, when his 
 character and his actions were calmly scrutinized ? 
 "What was his career, with all the noise it made? 
 A flash of gunpowder wide spread, — a blazing-up as 
 of dry heath. For an hour the whole universe seems 
 wrapt in smoke and flame ; but only for an hour. 
 It goes out, and the universe, with its mountains and 
 streams, its stars above, and its soil beneath, is still 
 theref." Justly said one of the German princes, even 
 in the height of the conqueror's splendour, — " This 
 Napoleonism is unjust ; it is a falsehood, and it can- 
 not last." All this "glory" "was treacherous, — it 
 was bought by a breaking or weakening of the moral 
 sentiments." This would-be hero "had proi:)osed to 
 himself simply a hrilliant career, without any stipu- 
 lation or scruple concerning the means." And so it 
 came to pass that " the highest-placed individual in 
 the most cultivated age of the world, had not the merit 
 of common truth and honesty ; he would steal, slander, 
 
 * Carlyle. f Idem. 
 
ROBERT BRUCE. 36o 
 
 assassinate, as his interest dictated. He was intensely 
 selfish ; he was perfidious. In short, when you had 
 penetrated through all this immense power and splen- 
 dour, you found that you were dealing after all with an 
 impostor and a rogue." Such was the result of " an 
 experiment, made under the most favorable conditions, 
 of the power of intellect icithout conscience. It came 
 to nothing*." 
 
 To distinguish, then, between these two kinds of 
 greatness, — the merely physical or mental, and the 
 moral, — is of the highest importance!. The possession 
 of great ability and great power may be common to 
 both ; but the different uses made of that power may 
 either raise the holder of it to the rank of an angel, 
 or lower him to that of a fiend. And hence, conceding 
 to Robert Bruce, without hesitation, the character of 
 greatness in some sense, it will be our duty to examine 
 to which of these two classes he really belongs. 
 Must it be said of him, as of the still more successful 
 hero of our own century, that " he had proposed to 
 himself simply a hrilliant career, without any stipu- 
 lation or scruple concerning the means ?" This is a 
 question, the answer to which will gradually develope 
 itself, as the facts of the history come successively 
 under review. 
 
 The common, but most erroneous view of Bruce' s 
 character, adopted by all Scotch writers, and accepted 
 
 * Emerson. 
 
 f We do not overlook the existence of a third, — a still higher 
 kind of greatness ; as exemplified in the Wicklifs, Luthers, and 
 Howards, which have been at various times raised up to bless 
 mankind. But this more spiritual kind of heroism is not to be 
 weighed in the same scales which are used for kings and con- 
 querors, — for heroes of the court and the camp ; and hence it 
 lies beyon,d the range of our present enquiry. 
 
366 ROBERT BRUCE. 
 
 by most readers, of whatever nation, is that which 
 ranks him with Caractacus and Tell, with Palafox 
 and with Hofer, as a devoted "lover of his country," 
 — one who gave his whole soul to the task of "freeing 
 her from a foreign yoke." All that need be said of 
 this notion is, that it is purely romantic and fictitious; 
 having not the slightest foundation in truth or fact. 
 Tliis is now admitted by Scotchmen themselves, 
 whenever they have any character as historians to 
 maintain. Thus, in the Walkcce Documents, printed 
 at Edinburgh, hy a society of Scottish gentlemen, we 
 read, that "Bruce by descent was an Englishman, and 
 probably so by affection as well as interest '•\" His 
 grandfather was an English judge ; his father was a 
 personal friend of the English king ; and one of the 
 earliest facts discoverable in the grandson's life, is, 
 that his father had interest enough to obtain his 
 admission into king Edward's household. Their home 
 was in Yorkshire, where, at Guisborough, the elder 
 of the three lies buried. His son, the father of the 
 young man now before us, was governor of Carlisle^ 
 and was buried at Holme Cultram in that county. 
 Their connection with Scotland was like that which 
 the last marquis of Stafford formed, in our own time, 
 by marrying a Scotch heiress, and taking the title of 
 duke of Sutherland. Of the history of the family, 
 lord Campbell thus speaks : — 
 
 " Robert de Brus, or Bruis (in modern times spelt 
 Bruce), was one of the companions of the Conqueror, 
 and having distinguished himself in the battle of 
 Hastings, his prowess was rewarded with no fewer 
 than ninety-four lordshi})?, of wiiich Skelton in York- 
 
 * Wallace Documents. Maitlantl Club. V. 43. 
 
EGBERT BRUCE. 367 
 
 shire was the principal." *^ Robert, the son of the 
 first Robert de Bnis, whom we have commemorated, 
 became a widower while a young man, and to assuage 
 his grief, paid a visit to Alexander L, then king of 
 Scots, who was keeping his court at Stirling. There 
 the heiress of Annandale fell in love Avith him, and 
 in due time he led her to the altar." " The fourth in 
 succession married Isabel, the second daughter of 
 David, earl of Huntingdon, grandson of David I. 
 Robert de Brus, afterwards the competitor, was their 
 eldest son." 
 
 This Bruce ^^ practised in Westminster Hall from 
 1245 to 1250. In the latter year, he took his seat 
 as a puisne judge ; and in the forty-sixth year of 
 Henry IH., he had a grant of forty pounds a-year 
 salary." He married a daughter of the earl of 
 Gloucester. 
 
 In 1268 he was appointed chief justice, and 
 remained in that post until the end of Henry's reign. 
 Not being re-appointed, he retired to his castle of 
 Lochmaben. Here he became one of the commis- 
 sioners for negotiating the marriage of the heiress 
 of Scotland with the young prince of Wales. On the 
 death of the youthful Margaret, he advanced his own 
 claim, as the son of David of Huntingdon's second 
 daughter ; but the question was referred to king 
 Edward, who, as we have already seen, decided in favor 
 of Baliol, the grandson of David's eldest daughter, 
 
 Bruce, disappointed, and resolving not to pay 
 homage to Baliol, "retired," says sir Walter Scott, 
 *' to his great Yorkshire estates ; " where he died in 
 1295, the year preceding Edward's first entrance into 
 Scotland. His son, the second Robert de Brus, was 
 a personal friend of Edward's, and had accompanied 
 
868 ROBERT BRUCE. 
 
 Mm to the Holy Land. Edward's private loan to 
 him of forty pounds has been alluded to in a former 
 chapter. He married the countess of Carrick, and 
 thus brought into the family another Scotch estate. 
 He appears to have been stedfastly loyal to the 
 English crown, and, accordingly, his lordship of 
 Annandale was taken from him by the Scottish par- 
 liament of 1294-5, when that parliament busied itself 
 in confiscating the estates of all who adhered to the 
 English alliance. "During the contest of 1295-6, 
 this Bruce, the earl of Carrick, son to the competitor, 
 possessed of large estates in England, continued 
 faithful to Edward*." 
 
 In the previous history of England since the 
 Conquest, the de Br uses are constantly found among 
 the English barons. At the battle of Lewes, in 1264, 
 the Eobert de Brus of that period was among the 
 king's supporters. We have described him as a 
 judge in Westminster Hall, and he was also sheriff 
 of Cumberland, and was buried, as we have already 
 mentioned, in 1295, at Guisborough in Yorkshire, 
 where his tomb still remains. His son, the earl 
 of Carrick, Edward's personal friend, and governor 
 of Carlisle, was interred, as we have said, at Holme 
 Cultram. To him succeeded, in 1304, the third Robert 
 de Brus of Edward's time, who afterwards became 
 king of Scotland. 
 
 It is abundantly clear, therefore, that the Robert 
 Bruce of whom we are about to speak, — whose father 
 and grandfather held offices under the English crown, 
 and regarded Yorkshire as their home ; obtaining for 
 the grandson an appointment in the English court, 
 
 * Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 204. 
 
ROBERT BRUCE. 369 
 
 was, as the editor of the Wallace Documents says, 
 "by descent an Englishman, and probably so by 
 affection as well as interest." 
 
 This Bruce was born in 1274, and he was in his 
 twenty-third year when Baliol resigned the crown of 
 Scotland ; and Edward then appointed his father. — 
 " his dear and faithful Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick, 
 and his son, to receive to his peace the inhabitants of 
 Annandale," This was probably the young man's 
 first appearance in public life in any political capacity. 
 
 The next year, during Edward's absence, Wal- 
 lace raised the standard of rebellion. And now the 
 "younger Bruce's conduct," says Mr. Tytler, "was 
 vacillating and inconsistent." The wardens of the 
 marches called upon him to take his place under the 
 king's standard. He accordindv went to Carlisle, 
 and there took a solemn oath on the consecrated host, 
 that he would be faithful to the king. " To prove his 
 fidelity, he ravaged the estates of sir William Douglas, 
 then with Wallace, seized his wife and children, and 
 carried them to Annandale. Having thus defeated 
 suspicion, and saved his estates, he privately assem- 
 bled his father's retainers, talked lightly of a ' foolish 
 oath ' he had taken, from which he hoped the pope 
 would absolve him, and urged them to follow him%" 
 and to join the insurgent forces. 
 
 In July, earl Warrenne approached, with an Eng- 
 lish army. Several persons of note, who had been 
 in some measure implicated in the rebellion, sub- 
 mitted themselves and made their peace with the 
 king, and among these was Robert Bruce. 
 
 The same kind of vacillation is apparent in the 
 
 Tytler, vol. i., pp. V2%, 206. 
 
 BB 
 
870 ROBERT BRUCE. 
 
 course of the next five or six years. In 1299 we find 
 his name associated with that of John Comyn, as one 
 of the regents of Scotland. But before the affair of 
 Eoslyn, he was again under the English banner. And 
 throughout he seems to ha^e striven to keep on good 
 terms with the king. In 1303-4, on his father's 
 death, he succeeded to the English and Scotch estates, 
 taking the usual oaths of fealty, and being released, 
 by the kindness of Edward, from the scutage payable 
 to the feudal lord. Of his professions to Edward at 
 this time, we learn something in a letter addressed 
 to him by the king in 1304, which runs thus : — 
 
 " Edward, by the grace of God," &c. — "to our 
 faithful and loyal Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick ; 
 and to all other our good people who are in his com- 
 pany, greeting. We have heard that it is agreed 
 between you and John de Segrave and our other good 
 people of his company, to follow the enemy ; and 
 that you desire we should hold you excused if you 
 come not to us on the day appointed. Know that 
 for the great diligence and care which you have used 
 in our affairs, and because you are thus agreed to 
 follow the enemy, we thank you as heartily as we 
 can, and we pray and require especially, as we 
 confide in you," — "that ye put an end to this 
 affair before ye leave these parts." And, finally, 
 when a new settlement of Scotland was about to be 
 attempted in 1305, " Edward," says Chalmers, " seems 
 to have placed his chief confidence in Wishart, bishop 
 of Glasgow, Robert Bruce, and John de Moubray^." 
 Yet, during all these latter years, if we are to believe 
 Hume and other eulogists of Bruce, the latter was 
 
 * Chalmers' Caledonia, vol. i., p. 071, 
 
ROBERT BRUCE, 871 
 
 secretly plotting a new rebellion. Unquestionably, 
 those who so represent him, must mean to describe 
 him as one of the greatest deceivers and hyi30crites 
 upon record. But we are not satisfied that he 
 merits all this odium. We are not certain that, up 
 to this time, he was actually guilty of more than 
 Mr. Tytler lays to his charge, — namely, vacillation 
 and inconsistency. 
 
 But by this inconsistency, i. e. by returning to 
 his allegiance whenever he had for a moment departed 
 from it, he contrived to keep himself in the good graces 
 of the king. Hence Mr. T}'tler observes, that — ■ 
 
 " Bruce, whose conduct had been consistent only 
 upon selfish 2^1' inciples, found himself, when compared 
 with other Scottish barons, in an enviable situation. 
 He had preserved his great estates, his rivals were 
 overpowered, and, on any new emergency occurring, 
 the way was partly cleared for his own claim to the 
 crown." This " claim," however, such as it was, must 
 obviously have been regarded as, for the present, in 
 abeyance, since both Baliol the younger and Comyn 
 stood before him in the right order of succession*. 
 
 We have now brought Bruce' s history down to 
 the autumn of 1305, when, as a principal party in 
 " the settlement of Scotland," which was effected, or 
 supposed to be effected, that year, he was much in 
 attendance on the king, in London, and at his palace 
 of Sheen, in Surrey. And our thoughts naturally 
 turn towards the question, — What was the state of 
 Bruce' s mind at that critical moment ? 
 
 We have seen that the supposition of his ^^ patriot- 
 ism," and " impatience of the English yoke " is simply 
 
 * See Appendix M. 
 
 bb3 
 
372 EGBERT BRUCE. 
 
 absurd ; inasmuch as his feelings must have been at 
 least as much English as Scotch ; and his perception 
 of the benefits which Scotland would derive from the 
 union must have been as clear as our own. But 
 neither, on the other hand, are we entitled to lay to 
 his charge that deliberate and long-continued system 
 of perfidy and falsehood, which many of his admirers 
 appear to attribute to him without compunction. 
 
 We apprehend that sir Walter Scott has accu- 
 rately described the real state of Bruce' s mind at this 
 period, in his lucid sketch of the position of the 
 Norman barons generally. He says, — " Two or three 
 generations had not converted Normans into Scots ; 
 in fact, the Normans were neither by birth nor manners 
 accessible to the emotions which constitute patriotism. 
 Their education had not inculcated that love of a 
 natal soil, which they could not learn from their roving 
 fathers of the preceding ages. The ideal perfection 
 of the knight-errant was, to wander from land to land 
 in quest of renown ; to gain earldoms, kingdoms, nay, 
 empires, by the sword, and to sit down a settler on 
 his acquisitions, without looking back on the land 
 which gave him life. Every soil was his country ; 
 and he was indifferent to feelings and prejudices 
 which promote in others patriotic attachment to a 
 particular country*." 
 
 We have already observed this character of mind 
 in the De Montforts ; one of whom first aimed at the 
 earldom of Leicester, and then set off" for Languedoc, 
 where he became count of Toulouse. His sou, 
 although entirely a Frenchman, contrived to become 
 leader of the barons of England, and was, for a year 
 
 * lUstory of Scotland, vol. i,, p. 68. 
 
ROBERT BRUCE. 373 
 
 or two, the actual ruler of the land. And in the same 
 spirit, — no sooner had Robert Bruce grasped the 
 crown of Scotland, than his brother Edward, emulat- 
 ing his example, aimed to become king of Ireland. 
 
 And it is this simply selfish view, common to 
 all the race, which explains the " vacillation " which 
 Mr. Tytler charges upon Robert Bruce. He had 
 already large possessions, both in England and in 
 Scotland, and he was evidently a calculating man. 
 He disliked to stake his great estates, except when 
 there was a clear prospect of improving his position. 
 Had patriotism or a " hatred of the English yoke " 
 been his ruling motive, he would have taken his chance 
 with Wallace in 1297, or with Comyn in 1302. But 
 Wallace fought in Baliol's name, and Comyn was 
 an adherent of the same party ; having, too, a better 
 right to the throne than Bruce's own. In such a cause 
 Bruce cared not to risk his fortunes. Not until he 
 saw an opportunity of advancing his own claims, 
 would he appear in the field. To rescue Scotland 
 from the English dominion, merely to leave it in the 
 hands of a Baliol or a Comyn, was an enterprise 
 which had no charms for him. The ruling principle 
 with aU the Normans, which sir Walter Scott so 
 well describes in the above extract, was his ruling 
 principle. His conduct, to use Mr. Tytler' s words, 
 " was consistent only upon selfish principles,'' — not 
 merelv at the commencement of his history, but 
 throughout his whole career. 
 
 Historians have generally failed to notice the cir- 
 cumstances which led to Bruce's final decision, his 
 murder of Comyn, and his appearance in the field as 
 a pretender to the crown. Yet there is no doubt or 
 obscurity about them. The grand deterring cause 
 
374 ROBERT RRUCE. 
 
 which had kept him back hitherto, was, the military 
 power and talent of Edward. This, while it endured, 
 was naturally, a great discouragement to all who felt 
 dissatisfied with the English rule. Many of Bruce's 
 admirers especially applaud his courageous daring, in 
 venturing with a handful of supporters to take the field 
 against so great a king ; — but these writers overlook 
 the fact, that Bruce, who was a cautious as well as an 
 ambitious man, waited, before he took the field, until 
 he had full assurance that Edward would never more 
 be found in his wonted place on the field of battle. 
 
 Bruce, as we have already noticed, was actually 
 engaged, in the summer and autumn of 1305, in 
 arranging, with the king, the future government of 
 Scotland. Doubtless, he spent much time with 
 Edward, in his palace of Richmond, (then called 
 Sheen,) and would naturally become well acquainted 
 with the state of his health. He would perceive that 
 the effects of more than twelve campaigns, — many of 
 them attended with hardship, — were beginning to tell 
 seriously upon the king's constitution, and that his 
 lower limbs were now rapidly failing him. This fact 
 is noticed by the historians of the time ; and we find 
 that when, in the following Whitsuntide, the king had 
 to go through the public duty of conferring knight- 
 hood on a large company of young men in West- 
 minster Abbey, his strength proved insufficient to 
 enable him to discharge his part in the ceremony. 
 
 This important fact naturally accounts for Bruce's 
 appearance in the field at this juncture. We have 
 already admitted that, up to October 1305, there is 
 nothing proved against Bruce but that which Mr. 
 Tytlcr describes as "vacillation and inconsistency." 
 The king had called upon him to assist in the paci- 
 
ROBERT BRUCE. 375 
 
 fication and settlemenl. of Scotland, and he may have 
 given his advice and assistance without any deceit or 
 dishonesty. All the Scotch nobles then took their 
 leave, and " returned home with the appearance 
 of great joy and satisfaction;" and probalaly Bruce 
 either accompanied or soon followed them ; for we 
 find him at Dumfries shortly after Christmas. 
 
 Up to this time, then, we have no proof of Bruce' s 
 perfidy or treachery. But, assuredly, the confidence 
 which Edward had reposed in him, and the expres- 
 sions of loyalty and good faith with which he must 
 have met that confidence, ought to have deterred him 
 from the course which, in a few weeks afterwards, he 
 adopted. It was probable, however, that on his 
 journey homewards, his thoughts would naturally 
 turn on the peculiar circumstances which made that 
 the crisis of his fate ; — to wit, the king's evidently 
 failing health ; the notorious incompetency of the 
 young prince; and the still incomplete establishment 
 of the English power in Scotland. If we could only 
 assume two things, — which by Scottish writers are 
 generally assumed, — that Bruce had patriotic feelings, 
 and that he had come under no obligations to Edward, 
 — we might then concede, both that there was some 
 justification for the step which he took, and also, that 
 the time was most judiciously chosen. But as we 
 know that not patriotism, but a desire for self-aggrand- 
 izement, was his governing motive, and that he had 
 sworn and avouched in all possible ways the truest 
 fealty and loyalty to Edward, it is quite impossible 
 to regard his conduct in the following February in 
 any other light than that of an enormous crime. 
 
 The king was now in his sixty-seventh year. His 
 health had latterly been more uncertain, and his 
 
376 ROBERT BRUCE. 
 
 strength less firm, than during the greater part of his 
 active life. He moved, in the winter of 1305-6, 
 through his domains in Dorset and Hampshire, and 
 was still in that country when, about Easter, the 
 tidings were brought to him of a new insurrection in 
 Scotland. Such intelligence would naturally excite 
 the most painful feelings. For nearly ten years he 
 had been striving to win the people of Scotland by 
 kindness. He had indeed been forced to enter that 
 country in arms, and had vindicated his right, again 
 and again, on the field of battle. But he was always 
 eager to sheathe the sword, whenever the Scotch 
 were disposed for peace. There is probably no 
 parallel for the constant placability and forbearance 
 displayed by Edward in Scotland. Frequent perfidies, 
 numerous murders, were committed by the Scotch, 
 but not one solitary execution took place. A single 
 criminal, Wallace, died in London for murders com- 
 mitted in England ; but even he, had he submitted, 
 might have had his life. Justly has Lingard remarked, 
 that " the world has seen many conquerors ; but it 
 will be difficult to find one, who, with such provocation, 
 has displayed an equal degree of lenity.''' 
 
 And the most painful and grievous feature of the 
 present rising, to Edward's mind, was, the shameless 
 perfidy manifested by the principal actors. All 
 through the year 1305 the king had been confiding the 
 arrangement of all Scotch affairs chiefly to two men, 
 — Wishart, bishop of Glasgow, and Eobert Bruce. 
 Either of these might have declined the task. Ed- 
 ward was no tyrant, whose slightest wish must be 
 implicitly obeyed. If Bruce and Wishart had chosen 
 to abstain from this work, tliey could have found 
 pleas of excuse. But they came to London, and for 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 377 
 
 several weeks consecutively, they were busily engaged 
 with the king in framing the new Scottish constitution. 
 They then take leave of him, '^ with the appearance 
 of great joy and satisfaction;" and the next thing 
 the king hears, is, that Bruce has murdered Comyn 
 for refusing to join him in a revolt ; and that Wishart 
 has crowned Bruce king of Scotland ! 
 
 Let us now pass in rapid review the leading cir- 
 cumstances of this new insurrection, which first 
 broke out on the 10th of February, 1306. Yarious 
 details are given by different English chroniclers who 
 wrote at the very time, and probably from the in- 
 formation of eve-witnesses. 
 
 The Chronicle of Lanercost was written at the 
 time, and in the very neighbourhood where the first 
 act of rebellion took place. And the chronicler gives 
 this brief and simple statement : — 
 
 " Lord Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick, guilefully 
 sent a message to lord John Comyn, asking him to 
 come and have an interview with him at the house of 
 the Friars Minors in Dumfries ; and when he had 
 come, he slew him in the church, and also lord 
 Robert Comyn, his uncle." 
 
 Walter Hemingford, one of the best of the English 
 historians, and who frequently proves his intimate 
 knowledge of public affairs, thus fills up the brief 
 record of the Lanercost Chronicle: — 
 
 " In the year of our Lord 1305^, Robert de Bruce, 
 grandson of that Bruce who had disputed with Baliol 
 the crown of Scotland," "relying upon perverse counsel, 
 
 * Hemingford liere dates the commencement of Brace's trea- 
 son, probably from good information, in 1305. So that, imme- 
 diately on leaving Edward, and returning to Scotland, he must 
 have begun his arrangements for the revolt. 
 
 (/ 
 
378 ASSASSINATION OF COJIYN. 
 
 aspired to the kingdom ; and fearing lord John Comyn, 
 a powerful noble, and faithful to the king," "he sent 
 to him with treacherous intent two of his brothers, 
 Thomas and Nigel, asking him to meet him at Dum- 
 fries, to treat of certain matters, and he, suspecting 
 no evil, came to him to the church of the Friars 
 Minors. And when they were conversing, as it seemed 
 with peaceful words, all at once altering his mien and 
 changing his language, he began to inveigh against 
 him, accusing him of having injured him in the king's 
 estimation. And when Comyn attempted to reply, 
 the other would not hear him, but, as he had plotted^ 
 he struck him with his foot, and then with his sword, 
 and retiring, left him to his retainers, who, pressing 
 on him, left him for dead on the pavement of the 
 altar." 
 
 Matthew of Westminster is another contemporary 
 historian, who also frequently shews that he had 
 access to the best sources of information. His ac- 
 count runs thus : — 
 
 " Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick, first secretly, and 
 afterwards more openly, conferred with some of the 
 nobles of Scotland, saying to them, ' Ye know that 
 by hereditary right this kingdom belongs to me, and 
 that this nation intended to have crowned my grand- 
 father king, had not the cunning of the king of 
 England disappointed them. But now, if you will 
 crown me king, I will deliver this kingdom and people 
 from the tyranny of the English.' To this many 
 consented. But when he asked John Comyn, a noble 
 and powerful knight, whether he consented, he reso- 
 lutely answered, that he did not. And he added, 
 ^ All the world knows that the king of England has 
 four times subdued our country ; and that wc all, 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 379 
 
 both knights and clergy, have sworn fealty to him for 
 ourselves and our posterity. Far be it from me to 
 consent to this : I will not burden my soul with this 
 perjury.' Bruce begins to persuade ; Comyn con- 
 tinues to object ; the one threatens, the other with- 
 stands. At length Bruce, drawing his sword, strikes 
 Comyn, who was unarmed. Comyn fell, grasping 
 the sword, and striving to take it from him, when 
 Bruce' s attendants rushed in, and gave Comyn fresh 
 wounds. This took place at Dumfries, in the church 
 of the Friars Minors." 
 
 Peter Langtoft, another chronicler of the time, 
 thus tells the story : — 
 
 "Of Walleys liave ye heard, how his ending was ; 
 Now of king Robert, to tell you his trespass. 
 As Lenten-tide came in, Christen man's lach. 
 He sent for John Comyn, the lord of Badenach : 
 To Dumfries should he come, unto the Minors' kirke ; 
 A speking there they had ; — The Comyn will not worke ; 
 Nor do after the saying of Eobert the Bruse. 
 Away he gan him drawe ; his conseil to refuse : 
 Eobert with a knife, the Comyn there he smote ; 
 Through which wound his life he lost, well I wote. 
 He went to the high altar, and stood and rested him there. 
 Came Robert's squire, and wounded him well more : 
 For he will not consent to raise no foUie ; 
 Nor do as he meant, to gin to make partie, 
 Against king Edward, Scotland to dereyne." 
 
 Other contemporary writers might be cited, but 
 it is needless. The four already given are of the 
 highest class. These writers were all men so placed 
 as to have access to the best information ; and they 
 wrote at the very time. In the general outline they 
 all agree. Bruce, apparently, had taken his course, 
 and was gathering a party round him, preparatory to 
 
380' A"gSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 a rising. Comyn, who had been regent of Scotland, 
 and had fought for Scottish independence so long as 
 he could keep the field, receiving no aid from Bruce^ 
 is now the one man in Scotland who can most power- 
 fully further or hinder Bruce' s success. Bruce, 
 therefore, naturally seeks a meeting with him. But 
 the dark features of the transaction are these, — that 
 while Bruce, by naming a church for their meeting, 
 had induced Comyn to attend unarmed, he himself 
 and his attendants came to the meeting in arms. 
 Hemingford charges Bruce with affecting anger, in 
 order that he might, "as he had plotted," draw his 
 sword on an unarmed man. This purpose his fol- 
 lowers were prepared to second; and thus a gallant 
 knight, who had fought for Scotland while Bruce was 
 paying court to Edward, was deliberately murdered 
 in a church, by those who had inveigled him there 
 for a professedly peaceful object. 
 
 Mr. Tytler, like most other modern Scottish 
 writers, endeavours to extenuate Bruce' s guilt by a 
 supposition which turns out to be wholly groundless. 
 Mr. T. says, — "This murder had been perpetrated by 
 Bruce and his companions in the heat of passion, 
 and was entirely unpremeditated." So say not the 
 earlier Scottish writers. They tell us that Bruce 
 killed Comyn : they argue, upon the plea which they 
 themselves had invented, that Comyn had betrayed 
 some secret to the king, and that therefore Bruce 
 had a right to kill him ; but they tell us nothing of 
 any " heat of passion," or any want of premedi- 
 tation. On the contrary, the Kirkpatrick tradition, 
 which they all hand down, proves the very contrary. 
 Assume the meeting to have been honestly meant, 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. .381 
 
 as a friendly conference ; and that no thought of 
 murdering Comj'n had entered any one's mind. 
 Bruce hastily issues forth, exclaiming, "I doubt I 
 have killed Comyn ! " Is it not clear that the first 
 exclamation from all his attendants would have been 
 one of wonder, horror, and amazement ? But how 
 runs the story ? " You doubt ! " said Kirkpatrick, 
 " I'll soon 7nahe sure ! " (mak siccar.) Is it not clear 
 that this is the exclamation of a man who feels no 
 surprise, but who had anticipated some such news. 
 Bruce, then, assuredly, in the words of the Laner- 
 cost chronicler, " guilefully " drew Comyn unarmed 
 into a church, and there, "as he had plotted," he 
 deliberately butchered, with the help of his attend- 
 ants, a single unarmed man. Whether the page 
 of history contains the record of a blacker crime 
 than this, is a question which we shall not attempt 
 to decide. 
 
 So stood the transaction, recorded in various 
 chronicles of the time, but with no essential variation 
 or contrariety ; and it so stood, without question or 
 contradiction, until two or three generations had 
 passed away, and all who had known either Edward 
 or Bruce, or their children, in either realm, had gone 
 to their account. But, at last, at the end of the 
 fourteenth century, and in the beginning of the 
 fifteenth, three historians, — Barbour, Fordun, and 
 W}Titoun, — arose in Scotland. They undertook, natu- 
 rally enough, to write the past history of their own 
 country, but materials they had none, save Scottish 
 traditions, and the chronicles extant in England. 
 
 Barbour, the first of these writers, had a pension 
 assigned to him, out of the Scottish exchequer, " for 
 
382 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 compiling the book of the deeds of king Eobert the 
 first." It is abundantly clear, that whether he looked 
 to the Scottish court, or the Scottish people, his in- 
 terest, and probably his inclination, would prompt 
 him to varnish over this passage in Bruce' s life, in 
 the best way he could devise. And his followers, — 
 Fordun, who wrote about 1400, and Wyntoun, who 
 wrote between 1420 and 1424, — were more likely to 
 copy and improve his story than to discredit it. 
 
 The fable which these writers doubtless thought 
 it their duty to invent and to propagate, was to the 
 following purport : — 
 
 That Comyn and Bruce had had conferences, — 
 ("confidential meetings," Mr. Tytler calls them,) to 
 discuss the prospects of a new rebellion, in which 
 Comyn was to support Bruce' s claim to the throne, 
 and receive his, Bruce' s, estates as a reward : That 
 this agreement was put into "an endentur, and seled :" 
 That Comyn (being in Scotland) "rode ofi" to the 
 king," (who at that time was in Dorset or Hants,) and 
 " shewed him the endentur," and left it with him : That 
 thereupon the king summoned a parliament, and that 
 Bruce came up from Scotland to attend it : That 
 Edward, having Bruce in town, was about to seize 
 him, when the earl of Gloucester gave him warning 
 and he fled : That on his way to Scotland, he met a 
 messenger, whom he killed, and on whose person he 
 found letters from Comyn to Edward ! That thus 
 armed, and indignant at Comyn's treachery, he went 
 to Dumfries, met Comyn in the church of the Friars 
 Minors, where he upbraided him, and at last slew him. 
 
 Such is the story told by these writers, which we 
 only notice because modern Scotch historians seem 
 to think it a national duty to credit and repeat these 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 383 
 
 fictions, invented a century after the time to whicli 
 they refer, in preference to the plain and simple nar- 
 ratives of the writers who lived and wrote in that 
 very year, 1306. One Scottish writer, however, pre- 
 sents an honorable exception to this common failing. 
 Mr. David Macpherson, the able editor of Andrew 
 Wyntoun's Cronykyl, adds this just and acute criti- 
 cism to the passage in "Wyntoun, which contains this 
 version of the Comyn story : — 
 
 '- This whole story of the transactions of Bruce 
 with Comyn has much the air of a fable contrived to 
 varnish over the murder, and to make it appear an 
 act of justice in Bruce, whose splendid actions had 
 so prepossessed the people in his favor, that they were 
 determined not to believe that he could do wrong. 
 The story has this sure mark of fable, that the later 
 writers give us more circumstances than the earlier 
 ones. Barbour has nothing of the earl of Gloucester, 
 nor of Comyn's messenger being intercepted and put 
 to death, which are found in Fordun. In Bower's 
 time the tale was embellished with the devil's consul- 
 tation, and his wise scheme of inspiring Comyn to 
 betray Bruce ; together with the fall of snow, and the 
 ingenious device of shoeing the horses backward : — 
 it was also thought proper to augment his retinue 
 with a groom, and to allow two days more for the 
 journey. Nothing remained for Hector Boece, but to 
 turn the earl of GlouceLter's pennies into two pieces 
 of gold, and to make a brother for Bruce, whom he 
 calls David*." 
 
 Thus even a Scotchman, possessed of honorable 
 feelings, can detect and expose these fabrications. 
 
 * Macphersou's Cronykyl of Andrew Wyntoun, vol. ii., p. 501. 
 
384 .ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 Two or three other remarks, however, ought here to 
 be made : for instance : — 
 
 1. Those Scotchmen who insist on believing, that 
 at the very time when Bruce was sitting at Edward's 
 table, and professing himself his loyal and attached 
 friend and servant, he had actually proposed and 
 arranged with Comyn a new rebellion, must attribute 
 to him the highest degree of perfidy and hypocrisy. 
 For our part, we see no evidence of this. 
 
 2. Supposing Edward to have received warning 
 from Comyn of Bruce' s treachery, and to have in- 
 tended his arrest, no reason can be assigned why 
 he should afterwards have kept silence on this point ; 
 or why none of the English historians should have 
 alluded to it. Their entire silence as to any previous 
 warning given to the king, when they could have had 
 no motive for concealing such a circumstance, seems 
 to make it clear that the charge brought against 
 Comyn, a century after, of having " betrayed " Bruce, 
 was an after-thought and an invention. Hemingford 
 indeed says, that at the conference, after "peaceful 
 words," Bruce " all at once changed his tone," and 
 began to charge Comyn with *' injuring him in the 
 king's estimation." This, however, was when Bruce 
 was beginning to assume anger and passion, as an 
 excuse for falling upon an unarmed man. Still, it is 
 quite possible that Comyn may have told Edward 
 that he was deceived in Bruce's pretended zeal for his 
 service ; and that this caution may have reached 
 Bruce's ears. And it was easy, a century after, to 
 turn this honest caution into a "betrayal" of Bruce. 
 
 3. A chief evidence, however, of the fabulous 
 character of the whole story, is found in the nearly 
 impossible nature of the chief facts. 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 385 
 
 The Scottish commissioners, of whom Bruce was 
 one, took leave of Edward in October 1305, and 
 "returned home.'^ And early in February, Bruce, 
 having sounded other Scottish leaders, invites Comyn 
 to meet him at Dumfries. Between these two 
 dates, there intervene some thirteen or fourteen 
 weeks. 
 
 Now, at the fastest rate of travelling, it would 
 have taken, in those days, about three weeks to pass 
 from Dorset or Hants to Dumfries. A king's mes- 
 senger, sent from London to York, in the twenty- 
 eighth of Edward I., was allowed sixteen days, 
 probably for the journey and return. Another, sent 
 from London to Lancaster, in the sixth of Edward 
 II., was ten days in going, and thirteen in returning. 
 And the primate, describing his journey to find the 
 king, in the south of Scotland, in 1300, speaks of it, 
 as " twenty days' journey," " travelling incessantly, 
 and with all haste." When, therefore, we are told, 
 that Comvn, in Scotland, receives an "endentur" 
 from Bruce, and "rides off to the king with it;" 
 (some four or five hundred miles;) that the king 
 thereupon, to entrap Bruce, '^summonses a parlia- 
 ment," (which of itself implies another lapse of weeks,) 
 and that Bruce came from Scotland to attend it ; but 
 that when in London, being warned, he escaped, and 
 rode back to Scotland ; and all this in the depth of 
 winter, — we are driven to remark, that such a story has 
 incredibility upon its very face. We know that no 
 such parliament was ever summoned ; the fact of any 
 warning of Bruce' s purpose having been given to the 
 king, was unknown to all the English historians ; and 
 all these journeys, to and from Scotland, in December 
 and January, were nearly impossible. The simple 
 statement given by all the writers who lived and 
 
 GC 
 
386 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 wrote in 1306, is consistent and credible ; but 
 tlie romance, published a century after, by writers 
 who, in 1306, were not yet born, is evidently a 
 fiction. 
 
 Bruce, then, by a most foul and premeditated 
 murder,— by a base and cowardly assassination, — had 
 removed out of his path the principal man in Scotland 
 who could have counteracted and frustrated his plans. 
 Comyn was the most powerful baron in Scotland ; 
 and he had been, only a year or two previous, the 
 regent of the kingdom. Had Bruce risen in rebellion 
 while Comyn was alive, the latter would have re- 
 minded the Scottish nobles and people of their recent 
 submission to Edward, and of all the evils which 
 previous rebellion had brought upon their country. 
 He would have reminded them, also, that if they still 
 desired a Scottish king, one of the Baliols, father or 
 son, possessed the hereditary right, and that, after 
 the Baliol, his own name came before that of Bruce. 
 The influence of such a man, at such a moment, must 
 obviously have presented a serious obstacle to Bruce's 
 success. This obstacle, by one bold and unscrupulous 
 stroke, he had now cleared out of his way ; — " pro- 
 posing to himself," like Napoleon in modern times, 
 "a brilliant career, without any scruple concerning 
 the means." 
 
 "The die was now cast," observes Mr. Tytler. 
 '' Bruce had, with his own hand, assassinated the first 
 noble in the realm, in a place of tremendous sanctky. 
 He had . stained the high altar with blood, and had 
 directed against himself the resentment of the power- 
 ful friends and vassals of the murdered earl." "He 
 must now either become a fugitive and an outlaw, or 
 raise open banner against Edward." 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMTN. 387- 
 
 There can be no doubt that Bruce had weighed 
 these chances beforehand. The inveigling his victim 
 into " a place of tremendous sanctity," into which he 
 naturally came unarmed, and there falling upon him, 
 shews clearly a " foregone conclusion." The chief 
 man in England, he well knew, was incapacitated by 
 age and disease, and he had now murdered the chief 
 man in Scotland. These obstacles removed, for all the 
 rest he relied on his own skill and audacity ; his good 
 sword, and his strong right arm. And the issue 
 shewed, that his calculations were just and accurate ; 
 and " the power of intellect without conscience " was 
 once more proved to be sufficient to achieve great 
 earthly and temporary success. 
 
 He repaired forthwith to Lochmaben Castle, where 
 he was at least safe from any sudden pursuit of the 
 Comyns. From thence he immediately despatched 
 letters to every friend who was likely to give him any 
 aid. Of these, the earls of Athol and Lennox, the 
 bishops of Glasgow, St. Andrew's, and Athol, and 
 about fourteen others of some rank, as knights or 
 barons, quickly joined his standard. With these few 
 supporters, "he had the courage," says Fordun, "to 
 raise his hand, not only against the king of England 
 and his allies, but against the whole accumulated 
 power of Scotland. "" 
 
 This confession, from the pen of Scotland's first 
 historian, — himself a profound admirer of Bruce, — 
 decides one question. It was not in obedience to 
 Scotland's call that Bruce took up arms; "the 
 whole accumulated power of Scotland" was opposed 
 to his enterprise. The cause he undertook was simply 
 his own cause ; not that of Scotland. He had said 
 to the Scottish people — (to use the language of 
 
 cc3 
 
388 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 Matthew of Westminster)—" Make me your king, and 
 I will deliver you from the tyranny of the English." 
 The response he received was the adherence of two 
 earls, three bishops, and fourteen knights or barons. 
 The disseyitients were so numerous as to amount, in 
 Fordun's view, to " the whole accumulated power of 
 Scotland." 
 
 Still, however insignificant the support he received, 
 and however evident it might be, that the movement 
 had no other origin or purpose than the gratification 
 of Brace's personal ambition, he had now gone too 
 far to recede. Not even flight could save him, for 
 who in France or Italy would shelter one who had 
 committed such sacrilege ? He therefore boldly took 
 the only course which remained open. Three or four 
 weeks sufficed to collect together a sufficient force, 
 and on the 24th or the 25th of March, Bruce rode to 
 Glasgow, and from thence, on the 27th, to Scone, 
 where, in the accustomed spot, he received from the 
 bishops some kind of a coronation. Some robes were 
 provided by the bishop of Glasgow ; a slight coronet 
 of gold, "probably borrowed," says Mr. Tytler, 
 supplied the place of the ancient crown of Scotland ; 
 and a banner wrought with the royal arms was 
 delivered by Wishart to the new king ; who, beneath 
 it, received the homage of his few adherents, as 
 "Robert the first." On the second day after the 
 ceremony, a repetition of the scene took place. The 
 earls of Fife had long enjoyed the privilege of placing 
 the kings of Scotland, at their coronation, upon the 
 throne. The present earl was with Edward in Eng- 
 land ; but his sister, the countess of Buchan, was an 
 enthusiastic partisan of Bruce ; and, hearing of the 
 intended ceremony, she rushed to Scone to offer her 
 
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 389 
 
 services in her brother's room. Bruce could not 
 afford to slight or disappoint any adherent; and 
 hence, simpl}'- to gratify her, the coronation was per- 
 formed over again, and she was allowed the privilege 
 upon which she set so much value. 
 
 The new king then began a progress through such 
 parts of Scotland as were likely to favor his pre- 
 tensions ; seizing the royal castles, driving away the 
 English ofificers, and asserting his rights as king 
 wherever he could find an opening. But his party, 
 Mr. Tytler admits, " was small; the Comyns possessed 
 the greatest power in Scotland ; and many earls and 
 barons, who had suffered in the late war, preferred 
 the quiet of submission to the hazard of insurrec- 
 tion and revolt." In fact, as we have seen Fordun 
 admitting, — the rebellion was not a popular one. 
 Bruce had a far smaller party than either Wallace or 
 Comyn had gathered, and if a couple of years of life 
 and vigour had been granted to Edward, the suppres- 
 sion of this third revolt would have proved an easier 
 task than the defeat of either of the former two. Of 
 Bruce' s method of proceeding we have a sample in a 
 document still extant, in which the earl of Strathern 
 describes the mode in which he had been dealt with. 
 This is a memorial, addressed by the earl to king 
 Edward, in explanation of his position. In it the 
 earl states, that as soon as Bruce was made king, he 
 sent letters of credence to the earl, by the abbot of 
 Inchaffrayn. The abbot urged the earl to repair 
 forthwith to Bruce, to perform homage and fealty. 
 '' Xay," said the earl, " I have nothing to do with 
 him." Thereupon Bruce and Athol, with a power, 
 entered Strathern, and occupied Foulis. Bruce sent 
 the earl a safe conduct, to repair to him. He did so, 
 
390 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 
 
 and on refusing to pay homage, he was carried to 
 Inchmecolinec. Here he found sir Robert Boyd, 
 who advised Bruce, in his presence, to behead him, 
 the earl, and to grant away the lands of Strathern. 
 On hearing this, he was frightened, and did their will, 
 and then they let him go*. 
 
 Tidings of all these proceedings, — of Comyn's 
 murder ; of Bruce' s coronation ; and of the treason 
 of Lennox and Athol, of Wishart and of the two 
 other bishops, reached Edward at Winchester, in 
 Lent, and shortly before Easter in 1306. Had there 
 been any truth in the stories told by Barbour, Fordun, 
 and Wyntoun, of Bruce's escape and flight to Scot- 
 land, in the January preceding, we should have found, 
 before this, traces of Edward's foresight and energy, 
 in the writs and other documents which such occur- 
 rences would have drawn forth. But no such traces 
 are to be met with. This of itself abundantly proves, 
 that the narratives of Barbour and Fordun are stuffed 
 with fictions. 
 
 The intelligence came upon the king as a surprise; 
 and it awakened in him feelings of the greatest indig- 
 nation. As a knight and a soldier, accustomed to 
 the laws of honor, an act of premeditated assassina- 
 tion, — the assault of several armed men upon a single 
 nobleman, whom they had induced to come without 
 arms to an amicable meeting, would naturally fill his 
 mind with horror and detestation. As a sincerely 
 religious man, who, in 1289, had abstained from 
 violating the sanctity of a church, even to take a 
 notorious criminal from its protection, the ruthless 
 murder of a nobleman on the steps of the altar must 
 
 • Palgrave's Documents, p, cxxxix. 
 
EXASPERATION OF EDWARD, 391 
 
 increase, if it were possible, his just indignation. But 
 evidently, that feature of the case which most exas- 
 perated him, was, the perfidy and treachery which 
 had marked the whole transaction. The two chief 
 actors in this tragedy had been Bruce and Wishart ; 
 and it had been to these two men, above all others, 
 that he had looked for the quiet settlement of Scot- 
 land. They had come from Scotland professedly to 
 assist him. They had sat at his council-table for 
 weeks together, and, doubtless, had often taken their 
 places at his festive board, and shared with him in 
 the summer enjoyments of his Richmond retirement. 
 And now, — it was not merely that they had fallen off 
 from him, but that they had proved, by the desperate 
 course which they adopted immediately on their re- 
 turn, that all the pretended zeal and loyalty in the 
 October preceding, had been utterly false and treacher- 
 ous. Edward was well versed in the language of the 
 psalms, and he would naturally be inclined to cry 
 out, with David, "Yea! even mine own familiar 
 friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, 
 hath lift up his heel against me." 
 
 This perfidy is made the especial charge against 
 both the bishops, in an accusation laid by Edward 
 before the pope. In this document, the king recounts 
 a long list of perjuries. Thus, of Wishart, bishop of 
 Glasgow, the king alleges, — 
 
 That when he, the king, was first called into Scot- 
 land, about the matter of the succession, he, the 
 bishop, took the oath to the king, as superior lord, 
 and was appointed by him as one of the guardians of 
 the realm ; yet, when Baliol was put into possession 
 of the kingdom, he, the bishop, aided and advised 
 him in making war upon England. 
 
S92 EXASPERATION OF EDWARD. 
 
 Next, that upon Baliol's submission, the bishop 
 came to the king at Elgin, and prayed forgiveness : 
 and took an oath on the consecrated host, on the 
 gospels, and upon the black rood of Scotland, that 
 he would be faithful and true to the king, and would 
 never counsel anything to his hurt or damage. And 
 that, at the parliament held at Berwick, he took the 
 oath of fealty for the third time. Yet when the 
 king was gone to Flanders, the bishop abetted Wal- 
 lace, and came forth into the field against the king. 
 
 Again, when the rebellion seemed to decline, the 
 bishop once more submitted himself to the king, at 
 Irvine, in July 1297. Yet, in less than a month after- 
 wards, he had again confederated himself with Wallace 
 and the rebels, encouraging them as heretofore. 
 
 Next, the king having returned from Flanders, 
 the bishop came before him at Holme Cultram, and 
 prayed the king's grace and mercy, and did then, for 
 the fourth time, take the oath of fealty upon the host, 
 gospels, rood, &c., &c. Yet while this oath was yet 
 fresh, the bishop assembled all his strength, and 
 marched against the king's army. 
 
 Again, the rebellion being suppressed, the bishop 
 came before the king at Cambuskenneth, and prayed 
 grace and mercy, and forswore himself a Jifth time, 
 upon the host, gospels, &c., &c. And at the parlia- 
 ment at St. Andrew's, he took the same oath a sixth 
 time. And yet, after all this, within eight days after 
 the murder of Comyn, he gave Bruce plenary abso- 
 lution, — thus shewing his approval of the sacrilege 
 and the murder. He also in every way promoted 
 and encourag; 1 the rebellion, in violation of the oath 
 which he had, en six different occasions, taken. 
 
 Similar are the complaints made by the king of 
 
EXASPERATION OF EDWARD. 393 
 
 the perjuries of the bishop of St. Andrew's, and the 
 bishop of Elgin or Moray. To this general faithless- 
 ness, on the part of the leaders in the rebellion, 
 Wjntoun, in his Crrnykyl, published in the next cen- 
 tury, pleads guilty, saying of Wallace's day, — 
 
 " For in his time, I heard well say, 
 That fickle they were, all time, of fay" (faith). 
 
 But the disgust and exasperation which this per- 
 petual perfidy would naturally excite in an honorable 
 mind, will be obvious to every one. And we have 
 no doubt that it was this feeling which induced the 
 inscription on the king's tomb, — pactum serya, — 
 an inscription which doubtless was placed there by 
 his own command. 
 
 All the troubles of Edward's life had arisen from 
 the faithlessness of those with whom he was concerned. 
 David of Wales, Philip of France, Baliol, Bruce, — all, 
 in their turn, first swore to him, and then shame- 
 lessly violated their oaths. Hence, as his last word, 
 he desires this injunction or maxim, — " keep your 
 COVENANT," — to bc cngravcu on his monument ; and 
 there, in Westminster Abbey, it still remains. 
 
 Meanwhile, the immediate result of all this per- 
 fidy is seen, in the entire change which is perceptible 
 in Edward's policy. For thirty years he had been 
 singularly merciful, insomuch that Lingard, as we 
 have just seen, declares it to be "difficult to point out 
 any conqueror who had displayed equal lenity." But 
 there is truth in the maxim, " Beware of the anger of 
 a patient man." Edward was not natr aiiy a patient 
 man, but he had the command of his own spirit ; he 
 loved justice tempered with mercy j and one of his 
 
394 WAR IN SCOTLAND, 
 
 chief principles of action liad been shewn in his 
 hasty exclamation in Segrave's case, implying clearly 
 that to seek his mercy, in all ordinary cases, was to 
 find it. But now he evidently felt, that the time for 
 shewing lenity was past. There is a degree of stern- 
 ness, mingled probably with some feeling of exaspe- 
 ration, in the acts of the last year of his life. But 
 his love of justice never varied, and cruelty was a 
 thing to him unknown. 
 
 " Although broken in body," says Mr. Tytler, 
 "this great king was, in his mind and spirit, yet 
 vigorous and unimpaired ; as was soon evinced by 
 the rapidity and decision of his orders, and the sub- 
 sequent magnitude of his preparations. He instantly 
 sent to strengthen the frontier-garrisons of Berwick 
 and Carlisle, with the intention of securing the English 
 borders from invasion ; and he appointed the earl of 
 Pembroke, with lord Robert Clifford and Henry Percy, 
 to march into Scotland." It is clear, also, that the 
 whole tone of the king's mind and language was 
 changed, and his purpose was everywhere openly 
 avowed, to take a signal vengeance on all who had in 
 any way been concerned in the murder of Comyn. 
 
 Yet the death of that nobleman had deprived 
 him of no favorite, of no intimate personal friend or 
 counsellor. Between this Scottish baron and the \\hm 
 there had been very little intercourse. For four or 
 five years Comyn had kept the field against Edward; 
 while Bruce had been professing the greatest zeal in 
 his service. But Edward recognized in Comyn a frank 
 and earnest opponent, who cnrried on the war until 
 submission seemed to be a duty, and then surrendered 
 his sword^ accepted peace, gave liis fealty to the king, 
 and kept his covenant. And Edward saw this noble 
 
 ot 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 395 
 
 man treacherously murdered by that Robert Bruce 
 who had often sat at his table and professed attach- 
 ment to him, — murdered, too, merel}^ because he would 
 not join in treason. Hence the king's vehement de- 
 cision seemed at once to be taken, — that for Bruce 
 and his abettors, there was to be no more mercy. 
 The blood of Comyn should be heavily avenged. 
 
 And it is quite evident that his feelings were 
 generally shared by his people. A grand religious 
 ceremony was announced to take place at Whitsun- 
 tide in Westminster Abbey. There, the king pur- 
 posed to confer knighthood on the young prince, and 
 on other young men of rank, his companions. Nearly 
 three hundred of the younger nobility and gentry 
 were candidates for this honor, and eager to take 
 their part in the new enterprise. So vast was the 
 concourse of people in the abbey, that some persons 
 were crushed to death in the throng. The king was 
 scarcely able to perform his part ; but at the banquet 
 which followed, he took a solemn oath, according to 
 the laws of chivalry, that he would proceed to Scot- 
 land, there to avenge the death of John Comyn, and 
 to punish the perfidy of the Scots ; and that, wlien 
 that work was done, he would embark for the Holy 
 Land, and leave his body in that hallowed soil. Soon 
 after this solemnity, the young prince, with the new- 
 made knights, his companions, and a considerable 
 force of horse and foot, began the march to Scotland, 
 leaving the king, who was now in his sixty-eighth 
 year, to follow more at leisure. The rendezvous was 
 appointed for July 8, at Carlisle. 
 
 But before either the king or the prince could 
 arrive in Scotland, the new rebellion seemed nearly to 
 have reached its close. The surprise of Roslyn had 
 
896 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 been reversed, and a disastrous defeat had reduced 
 Bruce to the condition of a fugitive. The earl of 
 Pembroke commanded a small English force at Perth, 
 then called Johnstown. Bruce, having now gathered 
 to himself something amounting to an army, marched 
 towards the place, and sent a challenge to the earl to 
 come out and fight him. The earl sent him for answer, 
 that the day was now too far advanced, but that he 
 would give him battle on the morrow. The Scotch 
 retired, and incautiously broke up their array, and 
 began to prepare their suppers. Suddenly, the cry 
 was heard, that the enemy was upon them. Pembroke, 
 on second thoughts, disliking to appear backward, 
 had marshalled his forces, and marched out to find 
 the Scots. Bruce, still a young commander, had 
 neglected all the usual precautions, and his troops, 
 taken entirely by surprise, were thrown into utter 
 confusion. Six or seven men of note were taken 
 prisoners, and the loss of the Scotch is said to have 
 been 7,000 men; in fact, the army, such as it was, 
 was annihilated. Bruce himself, with a few friends, 
 escaped to the coast, and fled to hide themselves in 
 the western isles. Here, says Fordun, " he was re- 
 duced to such necessity, that he passed a long period 
 without any other food than herbs, and roots, and 
 water. He wandered barefoot ; now hiding alone in 
 some of the islands ; now chased by his enemies, and 
 despised and ridiculed by his own vassals*." " He 
 and his friends," says Mr. Tytler, "began to feel the 
 miseries of outlaws. Compelled to harbour in the 
 
 • " Bruce was so beaten by ill-fortune, tbat ho was left alone 
 to take passage to the Isles with two mariners in a boat, who 
 asked him, ' if he had any tidings of llobert Bruce ;'"' — Scala 
 Chronica, App. p. 287. 
 
WAR IN SCOTLAND. S97 
 
 hills, deprived of the common comforts of life ; he 
 and his followers presented a ragged and wretched 
 appearance. Their shoes were worn off their feet by 
 constant toil ; and hunting, instead of pastime, be- 
 came a necessity^." The English army, scouring 
 the country, picked up all the fugitives they could find, 
 and the chief power of Scotland was opposed to the 
 insurrection. The lord of Lorn beset the passes, and 
 had nearly captured Bruce. The earl of Ross seized 
 Bruce' s wife and daughter, and handed them over 
 to the English. The bishops of Glasgow and St. 
 Andrew's, the abbot of Scone, the lord Seton, the earl 
 of Athol, and the countess of Buchan, all were suc- 
 cessively found, and brought in as prisoners. The 
 king had now arrived at Dumfries, and the prince, 
 after scouring the country, came to Perth. Bruce, 
 now wholly disheartened, sent messengers to the 
 young Edward, to learn whether his submission would 
 be accepted. But the king, when he heard of it, 
 was incensed with the prince, for holding any cor- 
 respondence with " that traitor." We thus see the 
 distinction drawn between his case and Wallace's. 
 Wallace, after all his cruelties, was " to be received, 
 if he chose to submit himself;" but Bruce's per- 
 fidy, his sacrilege, and his treacherous murder of 
 Comyn, had put him beyond the pale of mercy. 
 The king had sworn to avenge Comyn' s murder, 
 and hence, with Bruce, no communication was to 
 be held. 
 
 There was now no visible insurrection in Scotland, 
 the chief rebel being a mere fugitive among the hills. 
 Hence, in October, we find the king at Lanercost in 
 
 * Tytler, vol. i., p. 222. 
 
398^ WAR IN SCOTLAND.- 
 
 Cumberland, where a council was held, and a delibe- 
 rate sentence passed, with reference to the rebellion 
 and its chief abettors. 
 
 This ordinance, in which various Scottish writers 
 profess to find cruelty, is merely identical with what, 
 under the like circumstances, would be passed at the 
 present day. The parties arraigned had, most of them, 
 been rebels in past years, and had found mercy. 
 They had, in most cases, sworn fealty to Edward 
 again and again, and had asked and received pardon. 
 Their lives and their lands had been forfeited, and the 
 forfeiture had not been exacted. Yet, after all this 
 lenity, they were again found in rebellion ; and now 
 with the added guilt of murder and sacrilege. They 
 had slain the first nobleman in Scotland, treacherously 
 and perfidiously, and "in a place of tremendous 
 sanctity." What, in our own time, would be the 
 judgment passed on such criminals ? — or rather, 
 what has been the punishment adjudged to such 
 criminals, within the last two years, in our Indian 
 possessions ? 
 
 The Ordinance of Lanercost declared, " That all 
 who were guilty, or were abettors, of the murder of 
 John Comyn, should be hanged ; and that all who 
 advised or assented to such murder, should have the 
 same punishment." "And that all who were aiding 
 or assisting Robert Bruce, or were procuring or per- 
 suading the people to rise, contrary to law, should be 
 imprisoned during the king's pleasure." 
 
 Could queen Victoria, under lihe circumstances^ 
 be advised to pursue any less severe course ? Yet, for 
 this mere administration of justice, is the king charged 
 by some writers with " cruelty ! " 
 
WAK IN SCOTLAND. 399 
 
 Doubtless lie had now deliberately laid aside that 
 singular lenity with which, for ten years past, he had 
 treated the Scotch, and had become convinced that, 
 with respect to some among them at least, mercy would 
 be no longer consistent with a proper regard to justice. 
 Yet surely, the second of these provisos, which merely 
 ordains for actual rebels "imprisonment during the 
 king's pleasure," is one seldom equalled for its tempe- 
 rance and lenity. There was also perceptible, in some 
 of his decisions, that notion of apportioning the punish- 
 ment to the offence, which was observable in former 
 years. Thus, the countess of Buchan had, careless of 
 Bruce's perfidy and recklessness of crime in the murder 
 of Comyn, rushed forward with zeal to take part in his 
 coronation. She was now a prisoner. The king said, 
 " Since she has not struck with the sword, let her not 
 be stricken with the sword ; but as a penalty for the 
 treasonable coronation in which she took part, let her 
 be shut up in a cage made in the form of a crown, 
 that she may be a spectacle and a reproach*." The 
 wife of Bruce, being also a prisoner, was sent to 
 England as a captive. These two instances of seve- 
 rity are fastened upon by some writers as shewing 
 " vindictiveness." Yet the countess of Buchan was 
 plainly guilty of treason ; and to have allowed Bruce's 
 wife to return free into Scotland, would evidently 
 have been an act of imprudence. But the censors of 
 Edward's conduct neglect to remark, that the coun- 
 tess's cao'e was ordered " to have all the conveniences 
 of a handsome chamber ;" and that Bruce's wife was 
 sent to the king's manor of Brunt wick ; with seven 
 
 * Matthew of Westminster. 
 
400 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 attendants, and liberty to ride out whenever slie 
 chose*. 
 
 But with the male prisoners the Ordinance of 
 Lanercost was carried into effect. Nigel Bruce was 
 brought to trial at Berwick, hanged and beheaded. 
 Christopher and Alexander Seton, both Englishmen, 
 shared the same sentence. These had been all con- 
 cerned, in various ways, in the murder. The earl of 
 Athol had taken part in the coronation of Bruce, and 
 had been in arms at the affair of Johnstown. He 
 attempted to escape by sea, but was driven back by a 
 storm, and captured. Sir Simon Fraser was the same 
 person who had cruelly murdered Ralph the cofferer 
 at the battle of Roslyn, in 1302. He had received 
 pardon for the offences of that period, but was now 
 found again in arms. These two were tried in West- 
 minster Hall, and executed, and their heads placed 
 on London bridge. " If we consider these men," 
 says Lingard, " as champions of freedom, they may 
 demand our pity ; but their execution cannot sub- 
 stantiate the charge of cruelty against Edward. 
 Som.e were murderers, all had repeatedly broken 
 their oaths of fealty, and had repeatedly been ad- 
 mitted to pardon." 
 
 The winter now reigned, and Bruce was hidden in 
 the little isle of Rachrin. On the approach of spring 
 he surprised the isle of Arran, and from thence 
 sent spies into his own country of Annandale. The 
 English in and near Turnberry Castle were cantoned 
 in careless security, hearing nothing of any enemy ; 
 and it was not difficult to take them by surprise. 
 Lord Henry Percy shut himself u}) in the castle ; but 
 
 * Palgrave's Documents, p. clxxxix. 
 
"WAR IN SCOTLAVD. 401 
 
 he was soon relieved bv the arrival of sir Rop:er St. 
 John with a thousand men. About this time, two of 
 Bruce's brothers, Thomas and Alexander, having 
 collected about seven hundred men in Ireland, landed 
 in Galloway. But they were met on landing by Mac- 
 dowal, a Scottish chief, who remained true to his 
 oath. The Irish auxiliaries were routed and scattered, 
 and both the Bruces, with sir Reginald Crawford, were 
 taken prisoners. They were sent to Carlisle, and, 
 having been concerned in Comyn's murder, were 
 immediately brought to trial and executed. The 
 whole of the executions on the scaffold which took 
 place in consequence of this rebellion, included about 
 sixteen or eighteen persons. Most of these had 
 been concerned in Comyn's murder, either as actual 
 parties, or as accessories. Yet is it insisted upon by 
 some writers, that these punishments partook of 
 cruelty. These critics, however, have no censure to 
 spare for such atrocities as " the Douglas larder," 
 which was perpetrated on Palm Sunday. Sir James 
 Douglas, one of Bruce's adherents, surprised the 
 Enp^lish o^arrison of Doudas ichile in church. He 
 butchered them all, after Wallace's manner, and as 
 he had no strength wherewith to hold the castle, he 
 raised a great pile of wood, threw the bodies of the 
 English garrison upon it, and then setting it on fire, 
 consumed the whole^'. Such deeds as these were not 
 calculated to soften the king's disposition, or to dis- 
 pose him to lenity when any of Bruce's immediate 
 accomplices fell into his hands. And when, indeed, 
 was such a rebellion as this suppressed, — as, during 
 Edward's lifetime, it icas suppressed, — with so small 
 
 * Tytler, vol. i, p. 235. 
 
402 WAR IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 an amount of judicial punishment ? Four centuries 
 later, another Scottish rebellion was quelled, while 
 England was guided by the councils of Pelham, Hard- 
 wicke, Stephen Fox, Granville, and the elder Pitt. 
 And these statesmen did not shrink from exhibiting, 
 in various places, eighty ghastly heads, or from be- 
 heading, on Tower hill, lords Kilmarnock and Bal- 
 merino, and finally, lord Lovat, a man whose years 
 were fourscore* ! 
 
 The spring of 1307 was now advancing, and Bruce, 
 whose valour and personal prowess were of the high- 
 est order, found many opportunities of harassing the 
 English by surprises and sudden encounters. His 
 success, however, was not unvaried. On one occasion, 
 he lost his banner, and was in the greatest peril of 
 capture or death. In May, he ventured to stand the 
 assault of the earl of Pembroke, and by strongly post- 
 ing his men, armed with long spears, he defeated the 
 earl's attempt to break his line, and drove back the 
 English, who had only cavalry to oppose to his 
 spears. Three days after, he encountered the earl of 
 Gloucester, whose force he also routed, and who re- 
 treated into the castle of Ayr. But the king, hearing 
 that Bruce was in the field, sent a force from Carlisle, 
 .before which Bruce retreated. "He then took re- 
 fuge in the marshes and forests, where the English 
 found it impossible to follow himf." And thus stood 
 matters at the opening of July 1307. 
 
 But now drew near that great event, for Avhich, 
 there can be no doubt, Bruce had long been eagerly 
 looking, and which entirely changed the whole po- 
 sition of affairs. The king, as our readers will 
 probably have observed, had never made his appear- 
 ance in the field, during the whole of the fifteen 
 
 * See Appendix N. | Matthew of Westminster, 1307. 
 
DEATH OF THE KING. 4«? 
 
 months wliich had elapsed since the first outbreak of 
 the rebellion. He had found it possible to get as 
 far as Carlisle and Dumfries, but Bruce knew full 
 well that his active career as a military commander 
 was for ever terminated. The last few months of his 
 life presented merely a painful struggle^ between a 
 still vigorous mind and a decaying body. During all 
 the spring of 1307^ a dysentery had detained and 
 weakened him ; and the natural ardour of his tempera- 
 ment must have conspired with the disease. His very 
 longing for the active life to which he had been so 
 long accustomed, supplied fuel to the inward fire 
 which was already consuming him, Bruce' s reap- 
 pearance in the field, and his occasional successes, 
 made any longer delay appear intolerable. Persuad- 
 ing himself, at the beginning of July, that his disease 
 was abating, he offered up the litter in which he had 
 hitherto travelled, in the cathedral of Carlisle, and 
 mounted his horse for a new expedition into Scotland. 
 But the decaying body was unable to answer the call 
 of that powerful spirit. The effort merely brought 
 on, at once, that termination of his disease which 
 might otherwise have been delayed for months. In 
 the course of the next two or three days, he was unable 
 to proceed more than some six or seven miles, reach- • 
 ing the village of Burgh on the Sands, where he pro- 
 bably halted at the close of the first or second day's 
 march, and where, on the 7th of that month, he died. 
 His last hours were spent in vainly endeavouring 
 to impress upon his son some obvious lessons of pru- 
 dence and firm resolve, — lessons which were indeed 
 greatly needed ; but which the young prince seemed 
 mentally incapable of receiving. He enjoined upon 
 him never to permit the return of Gaveston*. He 
 
 * See Appendix O. 
 
 dd3 
 
404 DEATH OF THE KING. 
 
 urged him, forthwith, and once for all, to put down 
 the Scottish revolt ; the means of which were all 
 prepared and ready for his hand. So earnestly and 
 enthusiastically did he feel on this point, that he 
 desired his son to carry, after his death, his bones at 
 the head of his army ; — so that he, before whose 
 charge no Scottish army had ever been able to stand, 
 might, even after death, be still in some sort present 
 in the first shock of the battle. 
 
 But he spoke to ears which' had already been 
 closed, by luxury and dissipation, against all high 
 and noble counsels. Not one of his commands was 
 obeyed. The young king no sooner saw the power 
 and splendour of royalty within his grasp, than he 
 turned his back, at once, on the calls of honor and 
 duty. The great and all-important object of putting 
 down the insurrection in Scotland, was disregarded. 
 The forward march was countermanded, the anticipa- 
 tions of Bruce were fully realized, and the union of 
 the two kingdoms, — the great object of Edward's 
 labors during the last ten years, — was forgotten and 
 practically abandoned. The remains of the greatest 
 king that England had ever seen, were quietly removed 
 to Westminster, and were placed near to his father 
 Henry and to his beloved Eleanor. A simple tomb 
 received that noble heart, with tlie brief inscription, — 
 
 EDVARDUS PRIMUS : SCOTORUM MALLEUS : 
 
 HIC EST: MCCCVin. 
 
 PACTUM SERVA. 
 
 The death of Edward may be said to have ensured 
 the ultimate success of Bruce's ambitious enterprise. 
 
BRUCE. 405 
 
 The two greatest kniglits in Europe at that period, 
 says Froissart, were king Edward and Robert Bruce. 
 On the removal of the first, the second found no equal 
 in the field. Not only so, but there was opposed to 
 him, in Edward's room, the weakest and most incom- 
 petent monarch that ever sat on the throne of England. 
 It was nearly inevitable, therefore, that he should 
 entirely succeed in the object to which he had devoted 
 himself. He decided the question of "the indepen- 
 dence of Scotland" at Bannockburn ; inflicting on 
 the English the greatest defeat which they had re- 
 ceived since the battle of Hastings. He continued, 
 after this, in quiet possession of his Scottish throne 
 for about fifteen years, and then died, comparatively 
 young, of what was called a "leprosy." But valour 
 crowned by success has gained, as it usually does, 
 the applause of the multitude, and Bruce is generally 
 lauded for his " patriotism ;" while Edward, whose 
 plans he succeeded in frustrating, is censured for his 
 "ambition." The practical question, however, for 
 us, now far removed from these scenes of strife, is, 
 whether this judgment ought not to be reversed ; and 
 the praise of patriotism given to Edward, while the 
 blame belonging to ambition is awarded to Bruce. 
 
 Of the two principles or theories, respectively 
 maintained by Edward and by Bruce, little need 
 now be said. When Edward,— as an unfriendly 
 historian remarks, — " saw that before England could 
 mount very high in the scale of nations, the whole 
 island must be one undivided power, instead of 
 three," his sagacity merely discerned, five centuries 
 ago, a political necessity respecting which there has 
 been no difference of opinion for generations past. 
 We can all now see, at a glance, the wretchedness 
 
406 BRUCE. 
 
 and weakness which England must have suffered, 
 if, in the days of Louis XIY, and Napoleon, Scot- 
 land had been an independent state, always ready 
 to take part with France. Nor would the whole, 
 or the chief part, of the misery and peril have been 
 England's. Scotland, when, as of old, eagerly 
 uniting with France to humble England, was ever 
 the dwarf going to battle by the side of the giant. 
 Of the hard blows she received her full share ; while 
 the glory and advantage, when there was any, usually 
 fell to the lot of her ally. 
 
 The "independence" which Bruce was supposed 
 to have "vindicated," required, for its satisfactory 
 maintenance, the continuance of those peculiar cir- 
 cumstances under which he had achieved it : — that 
 is, that Scotland should be ruled over by an able 
 prince, and England by a foolish one. So soon as 
 this exceptional state of things came to an end, then 
 began a long series of disasters for Scotland ; and, 
 if Edward III. had possessed a tythe of his grand- 
 sire's sagacity, the whole result of Bruce's enterprise 
 would have vanished almost before his tomb had 
 closed. Alison, after noticing Bannockburn, con- 
 fesses, that " never, at any subsequent period, was 
 Scotland able to withstand the more powerful arms 
 of the English yeomanry. Thenceforward, her mili- 
 tary history is little more than a melancholy cata- 
 logue of continued defeats." And this was inevitable. 
 Assuming the two nations to be equally brave, — the 
 p]nglish were usually the better armed, the better 
 equipped, and were far more numerous. How could it 
 be otherwise; seeing that the one nation was more 
 than twice as populous and wealthy as the other ? 
 And hence, when Bruce had disappeared, and the 
 exceptional circumstances of his day had ceased, the 
 
BRUCE. 407 
 
 Endisli soon balanced the account for Bannockburn 
 at Halidon-hill ; while at Dupplin-moor, at Durham, 
 at Hamildon-hill, at Flodden, and at Pinkie, they 
 inflicted on the Scots five other great defeats. In 
 these six battles, the loss of the Scots is computed 
 at nearly 100,000 men. If we assume the loss of 
 the English to have been one-third of this number, 
 and then add to the reckoning a reasonable estimate 
 for skirmishes and continual " border-raids," we shall 
 find that the two nations lost, between them, nearly 
 a quarter of a million of valuable lives ; while the 
 destruction of property defies computation. Such 
 were the visible and tandble fruits of the success 
 of Bruce's ambitious enterprise ! 
 
 But did Scotland obtain, in recompense for these 
 sacrifices, any liberties, immunities, or practical ad- 
 vantages, which should have reconciled her to all 
 this carnage and desolation ? The answer must 
 unquestionably be in the negative. Some writers, 
 indeed, of the unscrupulous class, have striven to 
 make out a justification for Bruce, by describing 
 Scotland as a conquered nation, reduced to the most 
 servile bondage, until he gave her deliverance. But 
 all respectable historians, even among the Scots 
 themselves, now admit this to be a mere fiction. 
 Thus, Mr. Tytler says, of Edward's first settlement 
 of Scotland, in 1296, "The measures he adopted 
 were equally politic and just." " Xo wanton or un- 
 necessary act of rigour was committed ; no capricious 
 changes introduced." And on the second settlement, 
 in 1304-5, we have seen that Edward gave his confi- 
 dence chiefly to Wishart, Moubray, and Robert Bruce. 
 He thus left the measures to be adopted to be indi- 
 cated by those who were most nearly concerned. 
 
 But what was the condition into which Bruce's 
 
408 BRUCE. 
 
 success brought Scotland ? Let any one patiently 
 study the history of that country, from 1330 till 
 1600, and say, if the state of the realm was such as 
 to redound to the honor of its " deliverer." Of one 
 period (1392) sir Walter Scott thus writes, "To use 
 a scriptural expression, 'every one did that which 
 seemed right in his own eyes,' as if there had been no 
 king in Scotland." Of another period he says, " If 
 we look at Scotland generally during the minority, it 
 forms a dark and disgusting spectacle" (p. 283). And 
 Mr. Tytler says, "The nation had been reduced to 
 the lowest pitch of impoverishment in every branch of 
 public wealth" (v. ii., p. 75); and again, "The pride 
 and power of the feudal larons had risen to a pitch 
 destructive of all regular subordination " (p. 85) ; 
 and again, " Scotland seemed to be rapidly sinkiug 
 under her accumulated distresses " (p. 94). 
 
 It was not, then, for Scotland's good, any more 
 than it was in obedience to Scotland's call, that 
 Bruce raised his standard, and became the leader of 
 a successful rebellion. His motives and objects 
 were identical with those which brought William L 
 and Stephen to England, and carried Simon de 
 Montfort to Toulouse. To cite again the words 
 of sir Walter Scott, — the leading idea of a Norman 
 knight was, " to wander from land to land in quest 
 of renown, and to gain earldoms or even kingdoms 
 by his sword." He was " neither by birth nor man- 
 ners accessible to the emotions which constitute 
 patriotism." It was for his own glory and renown 
 that Bruce fought his way to the crown of Scotland, 
 and thereby perpetuated a state of division and alien- 
 ation between England and Scotland, which was 
 deeply injurious to both. It is this which constitutes 
 
BEUCE. 409 
 
 the vast and all-important distinction, which nothing 
 can obliterate, between the heroism of a Cincinnatus or 
 a Wellington, and the mere valour and success of a 
 Caesar or a Napoleon. The former fights and conquers 
 for his country, — the latter, for himself. 
 
 But was Bi'uce's enterprise successful, in more 
 than a transient and momentary degree, even when 
 viewed in a selfish and unpatriotic light ; — even when 
 regarded with reference to his own interests? Surely 
 not. 
 
 He aimed at the crown of Scotland, and he gained 
 it. But at what a price! He was already a Scottish 
 earl, and an English baron, and the lord of large 
 estates in both kingdoms. He had four gallant 
 brothers, who emulated his valour and his distinction. 
 Possessing Edward's favor, there was scarcely any 
 elevation of which a subject was capable, to which 
 he might not have aspired. But he chose a more 
 perilous and criminal course, and he experienced 
 some of its most fearful consequences. 
 
 Of the five gallant knights who bore the name of 
 Bruce in March 1306, four had fallen by violent deaths 
 before the year 1318 had closed. Three of these, 
 who had aided their brother in the murder of Comyn, 
 fell on the scaffold within the first twelvemonth; 
 the fourth, Edward, following in his brother's foot- 
 steps, resolved to find for himself a kingdom in Ire- 
 land, as Robert had done in Scotland, and he perished 
 in the attempt. And now, he who had led his brothers 
 to their early graves, was left alone ; his wife for 
 several years being a captive in England. At last 
 he, too, quitted life in 1331, by a loathsome disease, 
 leaving an incompetent son to spend a large portion 
 of his life in an English prison. On this son's death, 
 
410 BRUCE. 
 
 the line of Bruce on the Scottish throne, ended, and the 
 line of Stewart, by marriage with his only daughter, 
 succeeded, — a line perhaps scarcely to be paralleled 
 among those who have worn a crown, for disaster, 
 wretchedness, and disgrace*. 
 
 Bruce, then, by unrighteously coveting that which 
 was another'sf, had involved his whole family in 
 guilt, and danger, and suffering; and had intlicted 
 upon two nations great and lasting calamities. And 
 against this imputation there is no valid defence. 
 The pretence of "patriotism" was, as we have seen, 
 wholly fictitious and hypocritical ; but the crimes 
 by which he " waded through slaughter to a throne " 
 were real and substantial. His ingratitude for num- 
 berless favors and kindnesses lavished upon him by 
 Edward, and his reckless disregard of many solemn 
 oaths and voluntary engagements, all reduce his cha- 
 racter to the level of one, whom neither vows nor ob- 
 ligations could bind : while his base and perfidious 
 assassination of an unarmed man, merely because he 
 stood between him and the throne, ranks him, at once, 
 with those bold but unprincipled politicians, to whom 
 
 ' * Robert III. died of a broken heart : James I. was murdered: 
 James II. accidentally killed: James III. was murdered: James 
 IV. died on Flodden-ficld: Jnmcs V. of a broken hciirt. Tlien 
 came the calamitous and disgraceful days of JNIary, and her death 
 upon the scaffold ; James's troubled reign, and his son's bloody- 
 death ; the degraded life of Charles II. ; and at last, in his bro- 
 ther's person, the final expulsion of this wretched family. 
 
 I If Edward's claim and Baliol's resignation were valid, then 
 the throne was lawfully Edward's. But if any Scotchman con- 
 tested this point, then the right, in his eyes, would still vest in 
 the descendants of David, earl of Huntingdon. And of these, 
 Baliol and Baliol's son stood first; then Comyn, who was the son 
 of Baliol's sister; and only in the third place stood Bruce. 
 
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 411 
 
 crime presents no obstacle, and for whom conscience 
 appears to have no warnings. 
 
 It only remains that we add a few words on the 
 character of the truly great man to whose memory 
 this yolume has been dedicated. And these words 
 will be limited to a yery few points. 
 
 There is no dissentient yoice among the numerous 
 writers who haye dealt with the English history, 
 as to the indubitable fact, that Edward was, in the 
 common acceptation of the words, "a great king." 
 Eyen those who make no attempt to conceal their 
 national prejudices, are compelled to admire " this 
 great statesman and commander^," — this " most sa- 
 gacious and resolute of English princesf," — this 
 "model of a politic and warlike king|." But they 
 striye to depriye him of his rightful honor and 
 esteem, by suggesting or insinuating charges of 
 " ambition," of " injustice," and of " craft and dis- 
 simulation." These accusations, we must again repeat, 
 were unheard of among Englishmen, until yarious 
 Scottish writers undertook to amend our current 
 histories, and until they imported among us their 
 own prejudices, dislikes, and animosities. And now, 
 a serious and dispassionate study of the subject, has 
 led us to the belief, that all these charges are desti- 
 tute of foundation ; and that an enormous wrong has 
 been done to the memory of this first of English 
 kings. And if this be so, the subject is eyidently 
 one which ought to command our most serious atten- 
 tion. A hero of the second order, — one who wins 
 
 * Mackintosh. f Scott. I Hume. 
 
412 CHAEACTEK OF EDWARD. 
 
 battles, and conquers kingdoms, without mucli regard 
 to either justice or mercy, — might be assailed with- 
 out exciting much interest in his behalf ; for history 
 furnishes us with an abundant supply of " great 
 men" of this description; and the loss of one of 
 them from his accustomed place, need excite neither 
 alarm nor sorrow. But of those who have been truly 
 great, — those who have refused to rely on "the powers 
 of intellect without conscience," — the number has 
 hitherto been but small ; and the undeserved removal 
 of one of these from his rightful place in the annals 
 of the past, is a moral injury inflicted on ourselves 
 and our children. 
 
 Our own sincere conviction is, that the view of 
 Edward's character taken by ail English writers for 
 three centuries, was substantially the true one, and 
 that he merits our admiration, not so much for his 
 "greatness," in the vulgar and popular sense, as 
 for his real nobleness of heart and soul. A valiant 
 swordsman, — the wielder of a terrible battle-axe, like 
 Richard I., — may command a wondering applause ; 
 and the able leader of mighty armies, like Caesar or 
 Napoleon, may reasonably demand a yet higher place ; 
 — but there is no real greatness apart from truth and 
 honor, from justice and mercy. And it is that highest 
 kind of heroism, which is compounded of all these, 
 that we claim for Edward the First. 
 
 In the fifteenth century, old Fabian, describing 
 this king, says of him, — 
 
 " This prince was slowe to all manner of strife : 
 Discrete and wise, and true of his worde : 
 In arms a j^iaut, term of all liis life ; 
 Excellent acts doing by dint of sworde." 
 
 So that this honest and well-informed citizen of 
 
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 418 
 
 London, writing one hundred and eighty years after 
 Edward's death, and having no conceivable motive for 
 adulation, awards him honor, in the first place, for 
 his pacific disposition, his practical wisdom, and his 
 truth and honesty ; and then, but only in the second 
 place, for his puissance in the field, as a warrior and 
 commander. And thus did England long continue to 
 revere " the good king Edward," as Froissart terms 
 him, until another race of historians appeared, who, 
 having imbibed, from their youth a national dislike to 
 the conqueror of Scotland, strove to represent him as 
 "sagacious and resolute" indeed ; but also as a man 
 of "restless ambition," and of "craft, injustice, and 
 fraud." To all which representations we oppose the 
 objection, that they rest wholly upon statements made 
 by writers who had lived two or three generations 
 after Edward's departure ; and who had the most 
 obvious motives for traducing his memory, and ex- 
 alting that of his Scottish antagonists. 
 
 "That which is first is true," said Tertullian, — 
 " that which is letter^ is corrupted." This, which was 
 spoken of Christian doctrine, is equally true of his- 
 toric fact. The conception of Edward's character 
 which all Englishmen received, up to the close of the 
 seventeenth century, rested upon the facts recorded 
 by ten or twelve English chroniclers, of at least 
 average credibility ; and who narrated the events of 
 their own time. They have told us that Edward was 
 not only a great warrior, a great statesman, and a 
 great legislator ; but that he was backward to engage 
 in war, wise and temperate in prosecuting it, and 
 prompt to seize every opportunity of making an hon- 
 orable peace. They have also depicted him as a firm 
 and sincere friend ; and as one faithful to all his 
 
414 CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 
 
 engagements. These are the features which raise his 
 character above that of the mere conqueror, or of the 
 adroit and able statesman. But, as that characteristic 
 which most distinctly marks the hero, we would indi- 
 cate the frankness, the earnestness, the true nobleness, 
 which are apparent in his ever}" action. 
 
 We know nothing, in the whole compass of his- 
 torical literature, more shamefully unjust or untrue, 
 than the imputations cast upon Edward's character 
 by some Scottish writers, of craft, of subtlety, and 
 an insidious and fraudulent policy. It would be 
 scarcely more at variance with established facts, to 
 represent him as a dwarf or a coward. Throughout 
 his whole life, a frank and noble fearlessness marked 
 his every step. His objects and purposes being 
 at all times just and honorable, he was ever ready, 
 and even eager, to explain and to justify them. 
 Thus, when opposed to Simon de Montfort, he went 
 to Kingston to confer with the old earl, even though 
 it led to Simon's seizing the opportunity to make 
 him a prisoner. Not even this lesson could teach 
 him timidity, for soon after we find, that seeing the 
 earl's sons among the hostile force at Gloucester, 
 lie went out, unarmed, to confer with them. Later 
 in life, when the archbishop contends with him, he 
 gives him a private and special audience ; desiring 
 him to "say freely what he would," and listening 
 with patient attention. Shortly after, an earl opposes 
 him ; and the king instantly writes to him to say, 
 that he " wishes to have a private ' colloquium ' with 
 him." The people of London feel the pressure of 
 war-requisitions ; and their sovereign desires them to 
 meet him at Westminster Hall, where he speaks with 
 them face to face, — explaining the public necessities, 
 deploring their burdens, and promising to remedy all 
 
CHAEACTER OF EDWARD. ' 415 
 
 grievances as soon as possible. Soon after, the discon- 
 tented earls transmit to him a statement of grievances. 
 He does not prosecute or imprison them : but replies 
 by a manifesto of his own, which he transmits to all 
 the sheriffs for general publication. Thus, through- 
 out, he never shuts himself up in silence to work out 
 any secret purposes ; but is ever earnest, sincere, 
 frank, and open-hearted. 
 
 When the Hebrew king of former days asked 
 God for the gift of " wisdom," his prayer was heard, 
 and God gave him "largeness of heart." And truly 
 for all, but more especially for a king, real wisdom, 
 in temporal matters, is always found to be associated 
 with "largeness of heart." 
 
 But what is the true meaning of the phrase ? — 
 for it may pass through the ear without leaving on 
 the mind any distinct impression. 
 
 It means precisely the opposite to what Napoleon 
 Bonaparte meant, when with unintentional naivete he 
 exclaimed, " France ! — that is, Me." The constant 
 sentiment of Edward seemed to be, " I ! — that is, 
 England." On the one side we have contraction; all 
 things made to bend to self: — on the other, we have 
 expansion; the individual losing himself in his duty, 
 in his people. The French emperor would conquer, 
 overran, waste France's blood and treasure, in order 
 to augment the power and glory of " Me," Napoleon 
 Bonaparte. The Englisb king, on the other hand, 
 seemed to merge himself in his people. Of and by 
 himself he had no existence ; he lived for, and by, 
 and with them. Thus speaks he, in that remark- 
 able statute of 1306 ; in which it is impossible 
 to doubt that we hear his own voice : — "About this 
 chiefly is our mind busied without intermission; that 
 we may provide ease and comfort for our subjects 
 
416 CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 
 
 dwelling in our realm ; in whose quietness we have 
 rest, and in whose tranquillity we are comforted." 
 
 Thus begins and proceeds his whole life. In his 
 earliest manhood, a.d. 1259, he regards not himself 
 or the crown chiefly, but "makes it known to the 
 barons that he will stand by the community, and 
 will cause the promises which they have made to be 
 performed." A few years later, while still only heir to 
 the crown, we trace his hand, we hear his voice, in 
 the Statute of Marlborough, which describes the king 
 his father as " providing for the better estate of 
 his realm of England, and for the more speedy 
 administration of justice, as helongeth to the office 
 of a king'' And this same spirit pervades his 
 whole course of government and legislation, dur- 
 ing more than thirty years. In his transactions 
 with the Welsh princes, there was nothing of the 
 autocrat. Every step was discussed and ordained 
 in a parliament. And when, finally, the survivor of 
 the two princes was captured, we hear of no sudden 
 and arbitrary punishment, such as would have taken 
 place in any of the next twelve reigns ; but a par- 
 liament is convened, especially to decide as to ''what 
 is to be done with the same David." So, when Philip 
 of France fraudulently seized upon Guienne, the case 
 is laid before a parliament. Wlien the earls hand 
 him a remonstrance in 1297, he replies, "that not 
 having his council with him, he could give no reply 
 on matters of such importance." When the pope 
 sends him an arrogant claim, he answers, "tliat there 
 were many of the chief men of the kingdom not then 
 witli liim, without wliosc advice he could give no final 
 answer." The same year, in summoning the parlia- 
 ment of Lincoln, he writes to the sheriff of Cumberland, 
 
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 417 
 
 ''that though the commissioners of perambulations 
 had brought him their reports, yet since the prelates, 
 barons, and other great men of the kingdom were not 
 with him^ — in ichose presence he ivoulcl have his own 
 reasons, and the reasons of others propounded and 
 heard, and by ivhnse advice he intended to proceed, 
 — he enjoins the said sheriff to send to the said par- 
 liament," knights, burgesses, &c. And in addressing 
 that parliament, his justiciary says : " His majesty 
 has ordered me to let you understand, that whatever 
 he hath done in his late wars, hath been done by 
 your joint consent and allowance." 
 
 And these phrases were no mere empty, unmean- 
 ing professions. When we see Edward collecting the 
 people of London together in Westminster Hall, that 
 he might speak to them face to face, — when we find 
 him, just before, calling around him in parliament the 
 representatives of all the principal towns, on the 
 declared principle, "that what concerns all should be 
 by all approved," — and when a little later, we find 
 him sending out for publication in every county, a 
 royal declaration, in which he pleads with the people, 
 defends his conduct, and promises to amend what- 
 ever is wrong, — we feel assured that we are dealing 
 with a large-hearted man ; — with one who is strong 
 in his conscious uprightness; one who courts dis- 
 cussion, and is ready to assign a reason for every- 
 thing he does ; one who identifies himself with his 
 people, knowing but one common interest, and de- 
 siring to unite them with him both in action and in 
 feeling. And this was no momentary impulse, it 
 was the unchanging tenor of his life ; nor was it a 
 vague or empty profession, for it ended in giving to 
 England her present House of Commons. 
 
 E £ 
 
418 CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 
 
 Assuredly, also, there is an indissoluble connec- 
 tion, as was seen in Solomon's case, between largeness 
 of heart and wisdom, or largeness of the intellect. 
 We find in history's page no nobler man than Edward, 
 none of a greater soul ; and, assuredly, we find no one 
 that surpasses him in the attribute of lofty sagacity. 
 So agree even all those who most dislike him, styling 
 him "most sagacious," "a great statesman," "the 
 model of a politic king." But they do not stop to 
 point out the remarkable union, in him, of three dif- 
 ferent kinds of wisdom. He was a great legislator ; 
 but there have been many legislators who were not 
 statesmen. Edward was a statesman also, and one 
 of the highest order ; but there have been statesmen 
 who could not rule. He was a ruler as well as a 
 statesman, and a statesman as well as a legislator, 
 and he stands pre-eminent in all three departments. 
 How many men have lived upon this earth of whom 
 this could be said ? To how many sovereigns could 
 the couplet be justly applied, which for centuries was 
 affixed in Westminster Abbey to his simple tomb ? — 
 
 " Dum vixit Rex, et valuit sua magna potestas ; 
 Fraiis latuit ; pax magna fuit; regnavit lionestas." 
 
 As a ruler, power and clemency shone forth in 
 every action, and wisdom guided every decision. A 
 modern writer has well said, " Let us not withhold 
 from the greatest of English sovereigns his just meed 
 of praise. He sought, — and in a great measure he 
 accomplished it, — to establish the supremacy of law 
 over all classes of the community ; and for this he 
 merits the eternal gratitude of succeeding agcs"^'." 
 
 ■1= Hisloii/ of fShrciishurji, p. loO. 
 
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 419 
 
 But that which crowns and completes the whole, 
 is, the u'hole-heartedness of Edward's character. 
 Whatever he undertook, he undertook sincerely and 
 earnestly ; and whatever he purposed, he purposed 
 frankly, avowedly, and u-ith all his soul. Thus, 
 when a powerful and factious opponent, Winchel- 
 sey, traverses his purposes and frustrates all his 
 plans, he desires him to come to him, and then tells 
 him to say freely what he would. He hears him 
 patiently and without interrupting him, and then 
 gives him his reasons and his determination in reply: 
 — adding, that "in this cause he would fearlessly die ;" 
 because he was sure he was in the path of duty, and 
 was rightly upholding the true interests of his realm 
 and its people. 
 
 And it is this evident sinceritv and truth, — this 
 constant appeal to conscience and right, which com- 
 pletes the character of this truly noble king. He 
 was a warrior, a statesman, a legislator, — these are 
 excellencies which even the most hostile of his critics 
 cannot help conceding to him ; and it is probable 
 that in all these characters he had no superior. 
 But what would all these high qualities have done 
 for him, if truth had required us to add, as in the 
 case of Napoleon, that " he had not the merit of 
 common truth or honesty;" "doing all that in him 
 lay to live and thrive without moral principle^?" 
 Had this been the case with Edward, the foregoing 
 pages would never have been written. The sole 
 attraction which has led us through this enquiry, 
 has been, — the elevation, the warmth, the intrinsic 
 nobleness of this great king's character. True and 
 
 * Emerson. 
 
420 CHAEACTER OF EDWARD. 
 
 faitliful, fond and affectionate, to his consort and 
 his family ; just and firm in his friendships ; wise 
 and prudent in his conduct of his royal state and 
 revenues ; — his private life is without a stain. In his 
 kingly office, he rightly judged, that good government 
 and enlightened legislation were his first duties. The 
 rights of the crown he justly regarded as the rights 
 of the nation ; and deeming himself their appointed 
 trustee, over them he kept a constant guard. The 
 only ambition which he ever shewed, was the just 
 and laudable ambition of leaving his people more 
 free, and his realm more united and powerful than he 
 found it. Meanwhile, his skill in statesmanship and 
 his puissance in the field he would willingl}^ have left 
 to slumber, — deeming them, more wisely than many 
 of his critics, not the highest, though sometimes the 
 most shining, parts of an heroic character. 
 
 Ardent manhood, warm affections, a constant re- 
 gard to truth and honor, a conduct regulated in all 
 things by the declared will of Grod, — these are quali- 
 ties which, in any station in life, give to their possessor 
 the character of goodness. Sagacity and penetration, 
 practical wisdom, undaunted courage, a talent for com- 
 mand, a genius for victory, — these, in the popular view, 
 endow a man with the splendour of greatness. Com- 
 bine all these qualities in one man, in a degree of 
 perfection scarcely found in any other human being ; 
 and add to them an unwearied industry, a wondrous 
 power of self-command, and a patient endurance of 
 provocations which is, perhaps, without a parallel, — 
 and the result is still only an inadequate outline of 
 the resplendent character of "this great king." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 F F 
 
 N 
 
SAXON 
 
 KINGS 
 
 <=^ 
 
 A.PaLge 9. 
 Bsceait of Pnnce Edward 
 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 EGBERT 
 
 First Kn* of England 
 
 AD. 827 
 
 il 
 
 
 ETHELWOLF 
 Son of Egbert 
 
 83C 
 
 ll 
 
 
 ETHELBALD 
 Son of Etheth^olf 
 
 859 
 
 II 
 
 
 ETHET.RED 
 
 Son of Etheiwolf 
 
 866 
 
 1 
 
 
 ALFRED 
 
 Son of Etheivvolf 
 
 871 
 
 
 
 EDWARD 
 Son of Alfred 
 
 901 
 
 I 
 
 
 Athelstan 
 Son of Ed\%-ard 
 
 925 
 
 
 il 
 
 
 
 EDMUND 
 
 Son of Ed\vard 
 
 
 941 
 
 , I 
 
 
 EDRED 
 Son of Ed»vard 
 
 94« 
 
 1 
 
 
 EDWY 
 
 Son of Edmund 
 
 955 
 
 1 
 
 
 EDGAR 
 Son of Edmund 
 
 955 
 
 , 1 
 
 EDWARD. M. 
 
 Sonof Ed^ar 
 
 975 
 
 j 
 
 
 -ETHELRED 
 
 SonofEd«ar 
 
 .. 97ft 
 
 1 
 
 1016 
 
 EDMUND 
 SononSfiSred 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CANUTE 
 j TheDane 
 
 1017 
 
Ccrvtinuat 
 
 DANISH-^ 
 
 SAXON =^ 
 
 NORMAN^ 
 
 ANGLO- 
 NORMAN 
 
 OR. -. 
 
 PLANTAr 
 GENET 
 
 CflHUTE 
 The Dane 
 
 HAE.0IJ5 
 
 Barefoot 
 
 Sonof Caavitje 
 
 HARDICANTJTE 
 Son of Canute 
 
 EIwraRD.C 
 I Son of Ethdred 
 
 HAROLD 
 
 Saxon liae 
 
 Son of i 
 s^Edm Ironsid^ 
 j^2] 7 — . ■ _ ^ 
 
 MARGARET ^ 
 vQ. of Scotland/ 
 
 i Daushter Married, to 
 
 CTIOFERY \ /-MATILDA 
 1 PLftNTAGENET j^' Empress 
 
 ■^CountoFAigm^y j \ 
 
 ofHail 
 
 HENRY n 
 
 PlanLagenet. 
 
 Sonof Watilria 
 
 ^ RICHAPJ) J 
 
 Sonof Hen.n. 
 
 JOHN 
 Son ofHen.n. 
 
 HENRY III 
 Son of John 
 
 EDWARD I. 
 
 Son of Hen jn. 
 
 WiLLIAM.I. 
 of Normandy 
 
 WILLIAM, n 
 SonofWlI 
 
 HENRY. I . 
 
 Sonof^^al.I. 
 
 STEPHEN 
 
 1017 
 
 1035 
 1039 
 
 10*1 
 1066 
 1066 
 1087 
 
 UOO 
 1135 
 1154? 
 1189 
 T199 
 1216 
 1272 
 
424 APPENDIX. 
 
 B, — page 80. 
 
 THE CLEMENCY OF EDWAPvD, 
 
 "While speaking of Edward's clemency and generosity of 
 soul, ^Ye ought not to overlook, perhaps, the one solitary 
 story of an opposite kind which is related of him. 
 
 Matthew Paris, who leant to the faction of earl Simon, 
 and who did not live to see Edward in maturity, gives a single 
 incitlent, which he relates, obviously, from hearsay, but which 
 implies a charge of wanton cruelty. He tells us that the prince, 
 in his youth, and in the course of the wars in the Marches of 
 Wales, upon one occasion ordered a man to have one eye 
 put out and one ear cut off. He narrates it as an act of 
 reckless barbarity. We can imagine the fact to have occurred ; 
 but we disbelieve the imputation. Edward was a youth dis- 
 tinguished for tenderness of affection and generosity of feeling. 
 He shewed himself, in after-life, a just and conscientious ruler. 
 Taking a general view of his character, we can entertain no 
 doubt that, if he inflicted such a punishment, it was for an 
 act of miscreancy. The man had probably been guilty of 
 some deed of savage cruelty, and Edward had heard of the 
 Levitical rule, "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." 
 So qualified, we accept the story ; but an act of wanton 
 cruelty would be at variance with all we know of the prince's 
 character, in after-life. Even sir James Mackintosh admits, 
 that " his temper was not infected by wanton ferocity." 
 
APPENDIX. 425 
 
 C, — page 86. 
 
 THE STOEY OF ELEANOR'S HEEOISM. 
 
 There is scarcely a reign in the whole English history, 
 into which so much of romantic fiction has been introduced, 
 as into that of Edward. Yet these fables have not the excuse 
 which might have been pleaded, if the period had been that 
 of the ancient Briton or Saxon times. Solid and authentic 
 material is abundant in Edward's days, and we find little 
 temptation to turn aside to fiction. But this sufficiency renders 
 the severance of fact from fiction the more easy. There are so 
 many competent and credible witnesses found in Edward's days, 
 that the usual rule may and ought to be rigidly observed, — that 
 any fact which is not alluded to by any one of these contempo- 
 rary writers, must be held to be unworthy of credit. If we only 
 keep this sound and wholesome canon in our minds, and apply 
 it on all occasions, it will clear away from Edward's history 
 a mass of absurd fable. 
 
 One of the earliest in order of time, and perhaps the most 
 popular, is that which gives to the princess Eleanor the merit 
 of drawing with her lips from the wound received by Edward at 
 Acre, the poison which was supposed to have been left in the 
 flesh. This was just the sort of story to be popular, and it has 
 found its way into most of our school-room histories. Yet 
 it is impossible to accept this story, or even to hesitate in reject- 
 ing it. It is found in none of the English chronicles of the 
 time, though some of them give the particulars of that attempt. 
 The fiction first appeared in a Spanish work, written a century 
 or two after. No reason can be assigned, why the writers of 
 king Edward's day should have omitted such an incident, had 
 it ever occurred. Their silence, and the appearance of the story 
 only in a distant land, and after a considerable lapse of time, 
 deprives it of all right to be now received with credit. 
 
 GG 
 
436 APPENDIX. 
 
 D, — page 96. 
 
 ON THE PJSE OF PAELIAilENTS IN ENGLAND. 
 
 Of the councils or parliaments held in Saxon times ■we 
 have no certain knowledge ; but there is little difficulty in trac- 
 ing the gradual rise of the present English parliament. 
 
 The Conqueror subdued and possessed England by the aid 
 of a band of warriors ; to whom he gave great territorial 
 possessions. While secure of theu- allegiance, he could afford 
 to set at nought the "mere English" — the poor enslaved 
 inhabitants ; but it was needful for him to preserve the 
 good will of his military supporters ; who, in reward for their 
 valor, he had made, very extensively, lords of the soil. From 
 the very first, therefore, we find a rule, or admitted law or 
 regulation, that no new levy should be imposed without the 
 consent of " the Great Council." This council consisted of 
 the barons, who held their estates of the king ; and to these 
 the chief prelates were added. Besides this Great Council, 
 the king had his own ordinary council ; resembling, in some 
 points, the Privy Council of our own times. 
 
 Such was the parliament or council of the Norman reigns. 
 In the days of the last Norman king, John, we observe the 
 first symptom of approaching change. To the barons and 
 prelates some " knights " are added ; — for what purpose ]\Ii'. 
 Hallam considers doubtful. But we find no representation 
 here; for the knights, who were probably tenants of the 
 crown, were merely summoned, like the barons. Nor is there 
 any mention of legislation. The only change is, the calling 
 in a larger number of the tenants of the crown, to concur 
 in granting the king "an aid." 
 
 Tlie next reign was that of Henry III. And in this reign, 
 of more than htilf a century, no glimpse appears of a legis- 
 
APPENDIX. 427 
 
 lature, till towards its very close. The Statute-book of England 
 begins with this reign ; but the whole product of fifty-six years 
 is contained in a few folio pages. The "knights" are again 
 mentioned, in one or two instances in this reign. But the 
 feature which has most arrested the notice of historians, is 
 that of the appearance of " burgesses," or borough-represen- 
 tatives, in the parliament held in London in 1265, being the 
 forty-ninth year of Hem'y's reign. And, as Simon de Montfort 
 was, practically, the dictator at that moment, he has received 
 much praise as the originator of the present English House 
 of Commons. 
 
 Let us consider the circumstances. Simon, no English 
 noble, but a foreigner, had seized upon the government ; and 
 greatly needed support to enable him to maintain his position. 
 He had set the barons at war with each other ; and so fearfully 
 had he reduced their numbers, that to this parliament of 1265 
 there were summoned only five earls and seventeen larons. 
 These, we must conclude, were the whole of the baronage of 
 England that the dictator could reckon upon as his supporters. 
 Clearly, therefore, it was absolutely necessary that he should, 
 by some means or other, strengthen his " rump parliament" 
 from some other quarter. Hence his new resource, of desiring 
 the sheriifs, in the king's name, to send up both knights from 
 the counties, and burgesses from some of the towns. 
 
 This new sort of parliament, however, presented but a poor 
 commencement of our present legislative assemblies. No legis- 
 lation was attempted; — the chief object of the meeting, 
 apparently, being to sanction the pretended release of prince 
 Edward from prison, and his committal to earl Simon's care ; 
 and to sanction, also, the transfer of the prince's earldom of 
 Chester to the all-devouring Simon. These are the only 
 recorded acts of that parliament or council. 
 
 Up to this time we have met with none of the leading 
 features of our present parliamentary government. The name 
 
 gg3 
 
428 APPENDIX. 
 
 " parliament" is only now beginning to appear. The Annalist 
 of Burton , calls the meeting at Oxford a " parliament ;" 
 Matthew of Westminster calls it a "colloquium." The meeting 
 or council in London in 1265, is called a " tractatus." But, 
 in those last days of king Henry's reign, the term " parliament " 
 is repeatedly met with in the annals of the time. Still we have 
 here neither representation nor legislation. These councils or par- 
 liaments are composed of such persons as the king or the dictator 
 may be pleased to summon ; and their business is, to discuss some 
 pending dispute between the king and the barons, — not to 
 make laws. 
 
 But prince Edward obtains his release, and the battle of 
 Evesham restores king Henry to his throne. And now we 
 meet with the first document which bears the name of a statute ; 
 — " the Statute of Marlborough," passed in 1267, in the fifty- 
 second year of Henry's reign. And here, too, we find concurring 
 in the passing of this law, some sort of a representation of the 
 people. Prince Edward assisted at this " concilium," and we 
 may reasonably attribute to him the phraseology of the preamble 
 of this, the first English statute. It runs thus : — 
 
 " Our lord the king, providing for the better estate of hig 
 realm of England, and for the more speedy ministration of jus- 
 tice, as belongeth to the office of a king ; — the more discreet men 
 of the realm being called together, as well of the higher as of 
 the lower degree ; — it was provided, agreed, and ordained," &c. 
 
 We have no means of ascertaining the composition of this 
 parliament. It is called " commune Concilium Regni," and 
 there were present the "Magnates et Discreti," — the justiciary, 
 chancellor, the judges, and others. It presents, in the language 
 of the above preamble, a mere outline, a general idea, of a 
 legislative assembly ; which it was the great business of 
 Edward's life to complete and fill up. 
 
 Three years after this, king Henry died ; and the new 
 reign commenced. We have already described, at pp. 100-101, 
 
APPENDIX. 429 
 
 the tenor of Edward's first legislation. Without the least 
 delaj or hesitation, " the commonalty of the realm " are 
 distinctly recognized as entitled to a share in the making of 
 the laws. 
 
 But, between the first discovery and recognition of a prin- 
 ciple, and its full development in practice, there are usually 
 many halts and pauses. The man who first applied the power 
 of steam to a wheel or a lever, would have been astonished 
 could he have been shewn, in vision, the locomotive engine, 
 dragging after it twenty or thirty heavily-laden carriages. 
 The principle, of the participation of the people in the making 
 of the laws, was frankly and voluntarily conceded by Edward 
 in 1267 and in 1275 ; but it required the whole thirty-five 
 years of his reign to build up, by successive steps, the popular 
 branch of the English parliament. 
 
 He had given us, in 1267, our first Statute. In 1275 
 he had presided over our first Parliament*. The phrase had 
 been brought into use towards the end of his father's reign, but 
 it was not officially adopted until the new king commenced the 
 ■work of legislation. We have already quoted, at pp. 100-101, 
 the preamble to his first great statute ; but it seems needful to 
 repeat it in this place. 
 
 " These be the Acts of king Edward, made at Westminster, 
 at the first parliament general after his coronation; by his 
 council, and by the assent of archbishops, bishops, abbots, 
 priors, earls, barons, and all the commonalty of the realm, 
 thither summoned." 
 
 At once, then, we are introduced to the term "Parliament,'^ 
 now for the first time officially adopted ; and we find also that 
 that assembly is taken to be a legislature, and that the making 
 of good laws is one of its chief duties. We find, also, *' the 
 commonalty of the realm " now recognized, as an essential 
 
 * " The first mention of the term * Pai-liament ' is in the preamble to the 
 Statute of Westminster, 1275." — Blackstone. 
 
430 APPENDIX. 
 
 part of the said legislature. But liow tliis part of the scheme 
 was at that t«ne carried out, we know not. 
 
 Three years after, in 1278, the king, in propounding the 
 important Statutes of Gloucester, again recognizes the prin- 
 ciple of the concurrence of the people in the work of legislation. 
 " The king, providing for the amendment of his realm, and 
 for the fuller administration of justice, having called unto him 
 the more discreet persons of his kingdom, as well of the 
 greater as of the less, — it is ordained," &c. 
 
 But, five years later, in 1283, the first great step was taken 
 in the construction of the English House of Commons. Not by 
 an usurping dictator, but by the king himself, — and not to 
 answer any especial purpose; but as a great practical improve- 
 ment in the system of government, — Edward summoned a 
 parliament to meet at Shrewsbury, and at Acton Burnel, near 
 that town, for the enactment of the Statute of Merchants, and 
 for the trial of David of Snowdon. And to this parliament the 
 king called eleven earls and ninety-nine barons ; and he 
 then du-ects the sherifis to send from each county two knights ; 
 and the mayors of twenty-one cities to send from each two 
 citizens. Here we have at once a parliament essentially like 
 our own. And it is the free gift of the king. No demand 
 had been made upon him, — no exigency or pressure existed. 
 We owe this first commencement of the parliament of England 
 to the practical wisdom and largeness of heart of this truly 
 great sovereign. 
 
 As to the previous instance, of burgesses summoned to 
 parliament by Simon de Montfort, in 1265, we remark, — 
 
 1. That it was an evident device, suggested to him by the 
 urgent difficulty which pressed upon him ; namely, the paucity 
 of his supporters among the barons, and the impossibility of 
 constituting a parliament having even a decent show of 
 numbers, out of five carls and sevcnt-oeu barons. 
 
 2. That this shaui parliament never was treated or regarded 
 
APPENDIX. 431 
 
 as a legal meeting. All its acts were cancelled and annulled by 
 the parliament of Winchester, held in the autumn of the same 
 year. Other parliaments -R-ere summoned, often year by year, 
 in the remaining years of Henry's reign, and in the first ten 
 years of Edward's, without the least reference to borough- 
 representation. And it is not until eighteen years after 1265, 
 in October 1283, that Edward, voluntarily, and without any 
 demand being made upon him, orders writs to be sent out, 
 summoning burgesses from London and twenty other great 
 towns, to attend the parliament about to be held in Shrewsbury. 
 
 Ef—page 139. 
 
 THE ALLEGED "MASSACRE OF THE BARDS." 
 
 A STORY which Hume has countenanced, and which has 
 consequently found its way into all the school-histories, seems 
 to requu'e a brief notice here. That historian, probably conscious 
 that a suspicion of national prejudice would attach to his com- 
 plaints of Edward's conduct towards Scotland, adroitly tries, 
 before he touches upon Scotch affairs, to create a prejudice 
 against Edward, on the score of his alleged injustice and 
 cruelty towards Wales and the Welsh princes. We have 
 already seen him representing David as " a sovereign prince," 
 when he was none : and in the same spirit of misrepresen- 
 tation he ascribes Llewellyn's unwillingness to come to 
 England to pay his homage, to Edward's interception and 
 detainer of Eleanor, his betrothed bride; whereas Llewellyn 
 had so refused, long before Eleanor fell into Edward's hands. 
 He also omits all mention of Edward's great kindness and 
 muni&cence to David, and his resentment at the iatter's 
 ingratitude and treachery. Butj perhaps, he is most to be 
 blamed for his insertion, without hesitation or reserve, of the 
 following calumny : — 
 
482 APPENDIX. 
 
 " The king, sensible that nothing kept alive the ideas of 
 military valor and of ancient glory, so much as the tra- 
 ditional poetry of the people, which, assisted by the power of 
 music, and the jollity of festivals, made a jdeep impression on 
 the minds of the youth, gathered together all the Welsh bards, 
 and from a barbarous but not absurd policy, ordered them to 
 be put to death." 
 
 This fiction Gray clothed with the wings of poesy, and 
 his ode, beginning — 
 
 " Euin seize thee ! ruthless king I " 
 
 fixed the supposed fact in the mind of almost every school-boy 
 and school-girl in the United Kingdom, 
 
 Yet is the charge thus brought against Edward absolutely 
 false, and even entirely groundless. This is honorably admitted 
 by sir James Mackintosh, who says, — " The massacre of the 
 bards is an act of cruelty imputed to Edward ivithout evidence ; 
 and is inconsistent with his temper, which was not infected by 
 ■wanton ferocity." 
 
 But the charge is not only made " without evidence : " — 
 there is conclusive evidence existing which entirely destroys its 
 credibility. Sir Richard Hoare, in his edition of Giraldus 
 Cambrensis, says, — 
 
 " From the time of Edward to the days of Elizabeth, the 
 productions of the bards were so numerous, that Mr. Owen 
 Jones, in forming a collection for that period, has already 
 transcribed between fifty and sixty volumes in quarto ; and the 
 work is not yet completed." 
 
 Surely, then, we may hope for the entire abandonment, in 
 these days of attention to evidence, of this utterly groundless 
 calumny. 
 
APPENDIX. 433 
 
 Y^—page 181. 
 
 riCTIONS OF THE SCOTTISH HISTOEIANS. 
 
 Concerning Edward's transactions in Scotland, the prin- 
 cipal Scottish writers indulge, as might have been expected, in 
 a variety of romantic fictions. We shall briefly notice a few 
 of these. 
 
 1. 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh, eagerly adopting, without ex- 
 amination, Hume's story of the " great army," and of the 
 "betrayal" of the Scottish barons " into a situation in which 
 it was impossible for them to make any defence," actually 
 writes thus : — 
 
 " The circumvention of the estates of Scotland at Norham 
 in 1291, bears stronger marks of resemblance to the artifices 
 by which the royal family of Spain were inveigled at Bayonne 
 in 1808, than can often be fairly traced in occurrences so 
 distant in time." — (p. 264.) 
 
 How utterly monstrous is this comparison ! Let us recall 
 the facts. In 1808 Bonaparte induced the Spanish princes to 
 come to him at Bayonne, a fortified town, where they were 
 absolutely in his power. He here first persuaded the old 
 king to resign his crown, which was not difiicult. Then, turn- 
 ing to Ferdinand, in feigned anger, he threatened him with 
 immediate execution if he did not follow his father's example ! 
 " Prince," he said, " you must choose between cession and 
 death*.'''' In this way, he forced from the Spanish princes the 
 surrender of their kingdom, just as a highway-robber, pistol in 
 hand, compels the passenger to give up his purse. 
 
 Compare the case which is so outrageously assimilated to 
 this. Edward did not interfere in Scotland at all, until he 
 had been repeatedly, and by all the chief men in Scotland, 
 
 * Alison, vol. viii., p. 384. 
 
434 APPENDIX. 
 
 entreated to do so. He had been appealed to by them as their 
 superior lord ;^^as the person to whom it belonged, of right, to 
 decide their quarrel. So entreated, he went. There was no 
 circumvention, no surprise, no attempt at coercion. Having 
 been invoked as superior lord, he asked them, frankly, whether 
 they all received him in that character. The " great army " 
 of which Hume speaks, is a fiction. He had none but his 
 usual attendants. The Scottish barons hesitated. He gave 
 them a day to deliberate, and on their application, extended 
 the time to three weeks. They therefore returned home, free 
 to take whatever course they pleased, and with time enough, 
 if they chose to resist the king's claim, to collect forces where- 
 with to do so. 
 
 Yet this open, straightforward line of conduct is actually 
 likened, by sir James Mackintosh, to Bonaparte's inveiglement 
 of the Spanish princes within the walls of a fortress, and his 
 threat to Ferdinand, of death, if he did not instantly resign 
 his crown ! 
 
 2. 
 
 Not of sir James Mackintosh only, however, but of Mr. 
 Tytler, a fairer and more cautious writer, must we complain, in 
 this part of the history. 
 
 Mr. Tytler, to prove a deceitful and ambitious purpose in 
 Edward's mind from the very opening of these transactions with 
 Scotland, gives us two brief citations from the old historians. 
 
 1. He cites from Fordun (b. xi., c. 3) these few words : — 
 
 " Now," said Edward (in 1290) to the most confidential of 
 his ministers, " the time is at last arrived when Scotland and its 
 petty kings shall be reduced under my power." 
 
 With reference to which quotation it is enough to say, that 
 Fordun wrote just one hundred years after; and therefore can 
 give no valid testimony, as to a private conversation between 
 Edward and "his most confidential minister," half a century 
 before he, Fordun, was born. 
 
APPENDIX. 435 
 
 But, 2, tbe Annals of Wacerleij, says Mr. Tytler^ tell us, in 
 1291, that V the king of England, having assembled his privy 
 council and chief nobility, told them, that he had it in his mind 
 to bring under his dominion the king and the realm of Scot- 
 land, in the same manner that he had subdued the kingdom of 
 Wales." 
 
 This would be something like evidence, though of a loose 
 kind, if Mr. Tytler had quoted it fairly. But he has given 
 only so much as suited his purpose. The passage in the Annals 
 of Waverley, runs thus : — 
 
 " The kmg of England, having assembled his privy council 
 and chief nobility, told them that he had it in his mind to bring 
 under his dominion the king and the realm of Scotland, in the 
 same manner that he had subdued the kingdom of Wales. He 
 therefore moved his army into those parts ; where in a short 
 time he gained possession of the said kingdom of Scotland." 
 
 Thus we see that this passage is only one instance out of 
 hundreds which might be adduced, shewing that the old chroni- 
 clers often put down under the date of one year, facts which 
 properly belong to another. There was, in 1291, no "king" 
 in Scotland to be subdued. Neither did Edward move an army 
 into Scotland, or gain possession of Scotland, until 1296. It 
 is probable enough, that shortly before this, he stated to his 
 council such views as are described in the Annals. But then, this 
 all happened in 1296, after Baliol had broken fuilh loith him^ — 
 not in 1291, when the conferences as to the succession were 
 still going on. 
 
 3. 
 
 Two or three other fictions are introduced about this period 
 by Wyntoun and Fordun, who wrote at the end of the fourteenth 
 century, and beginning of the fifteenth ; — and Mr. Tytler does 
 not disdain to avail himself of one of them : — 
 
 1. These writers tell us, that during the arbitration, 
 Edward offered to give the crown to Bruce if he would consent 
 
486 APPENDIX. 
 
 to hold it of him as feudal lord ; but that Bruce nobly answered, 
 that he would never purchase the kingdom by red,ucing it to 
 servitude. Upon which, Mr. Macpherson, the editor of Wyntoun, 
 justly remarks, that " the Scottish historians, partial to the 
 family of their hero, Bruce, have united in putting into the 
 mouth of his grandfather, sentiments of magnanimity and inde- 
 pendence, which, from vouchers, are proved to he Jictitious." 
 For, as we have already seen, both Hume and Mr. Tytler 
 confess, that Bruce was the first to accept Edward as his feudal 
 lord ; and sir Francis Palgrave has shewn, that he did this long 
 before the meeting at Norham. Both Wyntoun and For dun, 
 therefore, are convicted of falsification. 
 
 2. Another story of this kind is repeated by Mr. Tytler, 
 although both Hume and sir Walter Scott had repudiated it. 
 Mr. Tytler tells us, of 1295, that " To Bruce, son of the com- 
 petitor for the crown, Edward affected uncommon friendship ; 
 regretted his decision in favor of the now rebellious Baliol, and 
 declared his determination to place him on the throne." ^nd 
 in 1296, that " Bruce reminded him of his promise, to place 
 him on the throne." " Have I nothing to do ? " said the 
 haughty monarch, " but to conquer kingdoms for you?" Here 
 is an important statement, which represents Edward as false and 
 deceitful. But when did it first see the light? In Fordun,and 
 in Bower's history, which appeared some time after 1440, or 
 nearly one hundred and fifty years after the period referred to ! 
 It is no wonder, then, that Hume passes it over in silence, or 
 that sir Walter reduces it to this : — " Bruce, after the victory 
 of Dunbar, conceived his turn of triumph was approaching, and 
 hinted to Edward his hope," &c. 
 
 The object of Fordun, as of the other Scottish historians, 
 was, to make out some legal right or title for Bruce. In order 
 to do this, they scruple not to invent. Thus, as we have just 
 seen, they tell us, that before the arbitration was decided, Edward 
 offered to decide in favor of Bruce, if he would own him as his 
 superior lord ; and that Bruce refused to do so. Whereas we 
 
APPENDIX. 487 
 
 know, from documents which are extant, that Bruce had at that 
 very time, actually applied to Edward as his superior lord I 
 
 The present fiction is refuted by many well-known facts. 
 Had Edward deceived and disappointed this Bruce, (the son of 
 the competitor,) it must have followed that the party so deceived 
 would have become bitterly hostile. Instead of which, we im- 
 mediately find this very Bruce employed by Edward, as " his 
 dear and trusty friend," to receive to his peace the inhabitants 
 of Annandale. And three times after this does Mr. Tytler 
 distinctly recognize this Bruce as being always loyal and faith- 
 ful to Edward ; — a thing most improbable, if he had been, — as 
 represented by Fordun an hundred and fifty years after, — 
 grossly deceived and wronged by the king. 
 
 4. 
 
 The next fiction is adopted by Hume, and rejected by 
 other Scotch historians. Hume tells us, that, after the battle of 
 Falkirk, "Young Bruce," afterwards Robert I., "distinguishing 
 the Scottish chief," Wallace, had a conference with him, " in 
 which the gallantry of Wallace's sentiments struck the generous 
 mind of Bruce, and made him repent of his engagements with 
 Edward." 
 
 Hume gives this story at some length, and yet is obliged to 
 admit, in a note, that " Hemingford and Trivet, authors of good 
 credit, agi-ee that Bruce was not at that time in Edward's army." 
 
 Why, then, does he repeat the story ? Because, he says, 
 " it is told by all the Scottish writers." But these Scotch 
 writers wrote a century after, while Hemingford and Trivet 
 wrote at the very time. 
 
 We have already shewn, that these " Scotch writers," writing 
 two or three generations after, invented many fictions. It is now 
 admitted on all hands, that this conference between Bruce and 
 Wallace is a fable. Sir Walter Scott never alludes to it ; lord 
 Hailes scofi"s at it ; and Mr. Tytler admits that Bruce was then 
 in another part of Scotland. 
 
4S8 • APPENDIX. 
 
 G,—page 220. 
 
 THE STOEMING OF BEEWICK. 
 
 In order to raise a prejudice against Edward, on the score 
 of the storming of Berwick, both Mr. Tytler and sir Walter 
 Scott condescend to borrow the exaf^oierated statement of one 
 English chronicler, that 17,000 persons fell in that storm. Yet, 
 when tJie same English chronicler states the loss of the Scotch 
 at Falkirk at 30,000, Mr. Tytler at once reduces it to 15,000. 
 But he retains the exaggerated number in the case of Berwick, 
 because it manifestly tends to Edward's prejudice ; as having 
 the appearance of a massacre. 
 
 Yet surely, neither Mr. T. nor sir Walter could be ignorant, 
 that all the Scotch historians, Wyntoun, Fordun, and Boethius, 
 state the number of those who fell at 7,000 or 7,500. But there 
 is higher authority than either of these. The complaint of the 
 Scotch regents to the pope, made within a year or two after, only 
 states the number at " nearly 8,000." Now complainants, in 
 their circumstances, were not likely to understate their case. If 
 they stated the numbers liberally, or largely — as they surely 
 would ; and if some of the bodies so counted were English who 
 fell in the attack, then it would leave a probable loss to the 
 Scotch of about 4,000 or 5,000 men, — a number which, under 
 the circumstances, appears not at all a remarkable one. 
 
 B.,—page 234. 
 
 EDWARD'S OBTESTATION. 
 
 At j£rst sight, remembering the constant and earnest attention 
 to religious duties shewn by Edward, we were inclined to doubt 
 whether the chronicler might not be in error in ascribinij this 
 oath to the king ; the more especially since the person addressed 
 was named BiGODj so that it would be easy to full into such an 
 
APPENDIX. * ^9 
 
 error. But, looking a little further, -we found the pope himself, 
 in a public reception of Edward's ambassadors, asseverating 
 " per deum," that he •would do the king justice. So that it seems 
 tolerably clear that even religious men, in those days, thought 
 it lawful to use language similar to that employed by Abraham 
 (Gen. xxiv. 3), by Joab (2 Sam. xix. 7), and by Nehemiah 
 (xiii. 25). As to Edward himself, his whole character assures 
 us, that he never used the Divine name lightly or irreverently. 
 
 J,— page 263. 
 
 THE NATUKE OF WALLACE'S SWAY IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 It is quite evident that "Wallace's power in Scotland, from 
 August or September 1297 till July 1298, must have been of 
 the nature of a tyranny. This we learn from the Scottish his- 
 torians themselves. We have already noticed this in p. 255 ; 
 but one or two further proofs may here be adduced. Fordun, one 
 of the earliest of the Scottish chroniclers, says, that Wallace, "if 
 any of the great men would not of his own accord obey his man- 
 dates, him he held and confined until he wholly submitted to his 
 good pleasure." So also, Hector Boethius tells us, that " He 
 made sic punition on tham whilk war repugnant to his procla- 
 mation, that the remanent pepil for feir thairof assisted to his 
 purpose." And Wyntoun, in his Cronyhjl (viii. 13) says, — 
 
 " The grettest lordes of our lande 
 To him he gert them be bowand : 
 Hd thai, wald thai, all gert he 
 Bowsum to his bidding be : 
 And to his bidding, who was not bown, 
 He took and j^ut tham in piisoun." 
 
 When we recollect who Wallace was ; — the unknown younger 
 son of a small country proprietor or yeoman, who had gathered 
 round him a horde of " men of desperate fortunes," and now, 
 required " the grettest lordes of the lande" to be " bowsum " 
 
440 « APPENDIX. 
 
 (obeisant) to his bidding, — we shall see that his position differed 
 little from that of John of Giscala in the siege of Jerusalem ; 
 and that desertion in his hour of need was the sure fate that 
 awaited him. 
 
 J, — page 314. 
 
 WALLACE'S EAVAGE OF THE NOETHEEN COUNTIES. 
 
 Equally unanimous are the Scottish chroniclers as to the 
 
 character of Wallace's invasion of England. Fordun says, that 
 
 "he wasted all the land of Allerdale with fire." Wjntoun 
 
 says,— 
 
 " All Allerdale as man of warre 
 
 That tyme he brent with his powere 
 * * * * 
 
 Wliarever thai overtuk the Inghs men 
 Thai spared none, but slewe all down." 
 
 Boethius tells us, that " he brent and harried all Northumber- 
 land to Newcastle He took Dunotter and slew all 
 
 persons found in it." 
 
 And, in our own times, the great Scottish Encyclopcedia 
 Britannica combines all the records in these words, " He pro- 
 ceeded as far as Newcastle, wasting with fire and sword, and 
 sparing neither age nor sex." 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh and some other writers have tried to 
 exculpate him, or at least to extenuate his conduct, on the 
 strength of a single act of mercy shewn to some monks whom 
 he saved from massacre. Probably there never existed on earth 
 a creature so wholly Satanic as never once to have shewn mercy. 
 But his character must be decided, not by conflicting evidence, 
 or by any isolated act, but by the general concurrence of all 
 writers, from the English chroniclers of his own day, down 
 to Blind Harry of 1470. Not one of all these varies m the 
 general statement, that he was ruthless, — the destroyer of men, 
 women, and childi-en, " sparing neither sex nor age." 
 
APPENDIX. ' 441 
 
 The Scottish Maitland Oluh printed, in 1834, a volume of 
 Illustrations of Scottish History ; at p. 54 of which volume we 
 find a transcript of Wallace's sentence, from an Arundel MS. 
 of about 1320, i.e. of Wallace's own time. As a part of that 
 sentence, it was ordered, " that his bowels be taken out and 
 burnt, even as he himself had burnt a church full of men and 
 ivomenr And this fact, as we have seen, was narrated, and 
 boasted of, by Blind Harry, one hundred and fifty years after. 
 
 K,— i^a^re 383. 
 
 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 The requests preferred by the barons, and accorded by the 
 
 king, were the 1st, Ilnd, Ilird, IVth, and Vth, the Vlllth, 
 
 IXth, Xth, and Xlth. Those which he did not concede, were 
 
 the following : — 
 
 VI. 
 
 " E ce ke mespris est par nul ministre soit amende solom 
 
 ce ke le trespas le demaunde par auditours a ceo 
 
 assignez qe ne soient pas suspecionus des Prelates, 
 
 Contes, e Barons de la terre solom ceo kil mesmes 
 
 ainz ces houres ad fet e qe ce seit meintenant mis 
 
 en oevre." 
 
 *' Dominus Rex vult providere aliud remedium 
 
 super hoc sed non per tales auditores." 
 
 vn. 
 
 " E qe Viscontes de cest houre en avant respoignet des 
 issues solom ce kil soleient fere en tens son Pere les 
 queles issues unt este e uncore ore sunt a gi*and 
 apovrissement du peuple. E ke Viscontes ne soient 
 plus haut chargez." 
 
 "Placet Dominus Rege quod de communi 
 consilio provideatur super hoc quam cito 
 commode poterit remedium optimum." 
 
 HH 
 
442 APPENDIX. 
 
 xir. 
 
 " E par ceste choses suzdites ne pount ne osent pas les 
 Prelates de seinte Eglise assenter ke contribucion 
 seit fete de lur biens ne de biens de la clergie en 
 centre le defens le Apostoille." 
 
 "Non placuit Regi : sed communitas Pro- 
 cerium approbavit." 
 
 L, — page 360. 
 EDWARD OF CAENAEVON. 
 
 A BRIEF, but very interesting, outline of the letters of Ed- 
 ward n., when prince of Wales, recently discovered in the 
 Chapter- house, Westminster, has been given by W. H. Blaauw, 
 Esq., in the Sussex Archceological Collections. On the day after 
 the letter given above, at p. 359, the prince writes to sir Walter 
 Reignard, to the following effect : — 
 
 " Inasmuch as our lord the king is so angry with us, on 
 account of the bishop of Chester, that he has prohibited us, or 
 any one of our suite, from entering his household, and has also 
 forbidden the officers of his household and of the exchequer to 
 give or lend us any thing, we send to you, that you may devise 
 means to send us money in great haste for the sustenance of 
 our household ; and do not, in any manner, shew anything of 
 the wants which touch us to the bishop of Chester, nor to any 
 person belonging to the exchequer. — Midhurst, the 14th day 
 of June." 
 
 A week later we find the prince writing again to this same 
 Walter Reignard ; begging him to help him to some palfreys, 
 saddles, and some new robes of fur and satin, in contemplation 
 of the expected visit of queen Mary, dowager of France, and 
 her son, " Monsire Lowys." 
 
 The prince's easiness and good-nature are exhibited by 
 many letters, in this his time of trouble, to prelates and other 
 
APPENDIX. 443 
 
 patrons, requesting preferment for divers persons viho had re- 
 quested his good offices. This same Walter Reignard after- 
 wards became, by his favor, archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 In July the prince writes to his brother-in-law, the earl 
 of Gloucester, to the following effect : — 
 
 " Because you have so kindly given up your goods to us, we 
 thank you very dearly, and we let you know that our lord the 
 king our father does not consider himself so ill-treated by us 
 as some people, perhaps, have made you believe; for he wishes, 
 and has commanded, that we should have of his bounty what- 
 ever is needful for us." 
 
 And this is confirmed by the fact, that a sum of one hun- 
 dred marks is paid, about this time, out of the king's wardrobe, 
 to Walter Reignard, for the prince's expenses. 
 
 In August he writes to his sister, the countess of Glou- 
 cester, that he would very gladly come to her ; but that the 
 king hath commanded his stay in these parts, i.e. near Wyndsore. 
 
 But though thus secluded, there are proofs in abundance 
 that the life he led was not a solitary one. 
 
 His letters speak of spices and groceries, long swords for 
 valets, small horns, and horses at a very high price^ To his 
 sister he writes for a white greyhound, and Hugh le Despencer 
 is thanked for raisins and wine. One great point, respecting 
 which he intreated the queen, his mother-in-law, was, that he 
 might have two more valets, and that " Perot," (his familiar 
 name for Peter de Gaveston,) might be one of them. 
 
 It is worthy of notice, that the king, while he was resolved 
 upon Gaveston's removal and banishment, took care to do him 
 no injustice ; for he granted him a pension of one hundred 
 marks, which was to commence from the day of his departure 
 from England. 
 
 hh3 
 
444 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 'M,—page 371. 
 
 CLAIMANTS OF THE CEOWN OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 Mr. Macpherson, the editor of Andreio Wyntoim, says, 
 in one of his notes to that Chronicle, — 
 
 " It is very surprising that Edward did not claim the crown 
 of Scotland for himself, as heir of Malcolm Canmore, whose 
 granddaughter Maud was his great-great grandmother. His 
 great-grandson, Henry IV., got the crown of England without 
 having so good an hereditary title." 
 
 It may be worth while, therefore, to shew the real position of 
 Baliol, of Comyn, of Bruce, and of Edward, which is done in 
 the following table : — 
 
 Malcolm Canjio'ee, king of Scotland, a.d. 1050 — 1093. 
 MaiTied Mai'garet, sister of Edgar Atheliug. 
 
 Duncan. Edgar. Alex. I. David I. 
 
 I 
 Matilda — man". Henrv I. 
 
 Heniy E. of Huntingdon, Empress Matilda. 
 
 Malcolm IV. William David E. of Huntingdon, 
 tlie Lion. I 
 
 Alex. II. 
 
 Alex. III. 
 
 I 
 
 Margaret, 
 
 Q. Norway. _ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 I 
 Devorgoil. 
 
 INIargt- John B.\liol. 
 Margaret, sister. 
 Maid of Norway, 
 died 1290. 
 
 Jolin Edward 
 Comyn. BaUol. 
 
 Isabel. 
 
 Eob. Brace. 
 
 Rob. Bruce, 
 E. of Carrick. 
 
 I 
 
 Robert I. 
 of Scotland, 
 
 Heniy II. 
 
 _| 
 
 I 
 Rich. I. John. 
 
 Hemy HI. 
 Edwaed I. 
 
 From this table it will be apparent why Edward, — keep- 
 ing, as he always did, his descent from Malcolm Canmore in 
 memory, — never rested his claim on that descent. Beyond all 
 
APPENDIX. 4i5 
 
 question, Baliol and his son possessed the hereditary right ; and 
 next, John Comyn. Bruce had no other immediate title than 
 that of the sword. Edward's unquestionable claim rested on 
 the broad fact, that Baliol, Bruce, Comyn, and every lord in 
 Scotland, first admitted him as Lord Paramount, and then 
 made war against him : the penalty of which was, forfeiture, 
 by the general laws of Europe at that time. 
 
 1^ J— page 402. 
 
 EDWARD'S ALLEGED AMBITION AND VINDICTIVENESS. 
 
 Apart from the Scottish historians, two English writers 
 of modern times, and of the highest rank, have done Edward 
 a great injustice. Mr. Hallam, allowing him to have been " a 
 prince unequalled by any since the Conqueror for prudence, 
 valour, and success," yet says, with reference to his dispute 
 with the two earls, that " his amhition, luckily for the people, 
 had involved him in foreign warfare." 
 
 This " foreign warfare," in which Edward was involved, 
 was simply an attempt to regain a noble province, of which 
 Philip of France had fraudulently robbed England. If any 
 French ruler, at the present day, were to resolve upon taking 
 from England the comparatively insignificant Norman isles, 
 would it be just to describe Queen Victoria, in some future 
 history, as " involved by her ambition in foreign warfare?" 
 
 With similar perverseness, Mr. Sharon Turner, while he 
 does justice to the uprightness of most of Edward's conduct, 
 yet describes him as " vindictive." This is the greatest in- 
 justice that can be conceived. Edward reigned for more than 
 thirty years, of a stirring and active character, without sending 
 more than three traitors to the scafibld, — David, Turberville, and 
 "Wallace,— and each one of these, for such ofiences, ivoidcl have 
 been sent to the scaffold in our oim day. The chief difference 
 between Edward's proceedings and our own, lay in the greater 
 
446 APPENDIX. 
 
 gravity and caution of his proceedings, and in the clemency 
 •which, in almost every case, he was ready to extend to any 
 oflFender who asked for mercy. In our own time, men who had 
 been guilty of the crimes of David or of Wallace, have found a 
 much more summary doom*. It is true, that at the close of 
 Edward's life, a great crime was committed in Scotland ; an 
 eminent nobleman was assassinated, under circumstances of more 
 than ordinary atrocity. Edward ordered all who were con- 
 cerned in this murder to be executed, and several persons were 
 thus rightfully punished. But even in his exasperation he was 
 distinguished for clemency. By the same sentence of Lanercost, 
 those persons who were only guilty of rebellion and high treason, 
 were merely ordered "to be imprisoned at the king's pleasure." 
 Does English history record any act less " vindictive " than 
 tMs? 
 
 On the general question, of the character of Edward's rule, 
 it is quite undeniable, that there is no reign in English history 
 which can compare with it for clemency. 
 
 If we turn to that of his weak and unworthy successor, we 
 find it full of hurried executions. Thus, when he took Ledes 
 Castle, he hanged up the governor and eleven knights. When 
 he captured the earl of Lancaster, the earl was immediately 
 sent to the scaffold; and with him fourteen knights and 
 fourteen knights-banneret. 
 
 * Thus, Major Hodson writes, from India, in 1857 : — " The next day 
 I got permission to go and bring in the king (of Delhi) and his favorite 
 •wife and her son. This was successfully accomplished. I then set to 
 ■work to get hold of the ^illaiu princes. I started for the tomb of the 
 emperor Humayoon, where they had taken sauctuaiy. After two hours of 
 ■wordy strife, they appeared, and I sent them away under a guard. * * 
 ****«. I ^l^g^ -went to look after my prisoners, who, with their 
 guard, had moved towards Delhi. I came up just in time, and seizing a car- 
 bine from one of my men, I deUberatcly shot them one after another. I then 
 ordered the bodies to be taken into tlie city and thrown out on the Chiboutre, 
 in front of the Kotwallu. In twenty-four hours, therefore, I had disposed of 
 the principal members of the house of Timur the Tartar." This naiTative 
 is published without regret by a clergyman of Ti-in. Coll., Cambridge. 
 
APPENDIX. '4K 
 
 In tte reign of Edward III., we have the execution of the 
 earl of Kent, " son of the great Edward," of Mortimer and 
 Bereford, and of the earl of Menteith. 
 
 In Richard II.'s reign, we find Tresillian and Brambre, 
 Burley and Beauchamp, Berners and Salisbury, and the earl 
 of Arundel, sent to the scafibld. 
 
 In Henry IV. 's reign, we hear of the execution of the 
 earls of Kent and Salisbury, of lords Lumley and De- 
 spencer, of the earl of Huntingdon, of the earl of Worcester, 
 of lord Kinderton, of sir Richard Vernon, of the earl of 
 Westmoreland, and of the archbishop of York. 
 
 Now Edward I.'s reign was not a calm or peaceful one. 
 He had wars abroad and at home, conspiracies, and earls and 
 archbishops opposed to him. Yet, during thirty years, and 
 until the assassination of Comyn, we find, as we have just 
 said, but three political executions, — 1. David of Snowdon, 
 who in time of peace had stormed a castle, committing high- 
 treason and murder; 2. Turberville, who had covenanted to 
 assist the landing of the French ; and 3. Wallace, who had 
 ravaged two counties with fire and sword " sparing neither 
 sex nor age." Say we not truly, then, that for clemency, 
 Edward's sway is almost without a parallel. 
 
 0, — page 403. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS TONE OF EDWARD'S CHABACTEE. 
 
 Although the monkish historians are of necessity the best 
 authorities for mediaeval history, inasmuch as they could both 
 read and write, (no ordinary accomplishments in those days,) 
 still there are many statements in their pages which we must 
 receive with allowance; such as their accounts of church- 
 quarrels, and the Bible-language which they are fond of putting 
 into the mouths of their heroes. Thus, in his narrative of the 
 siege of Stirling Castle in 1304, Matthew of Westminster makes 
 
448 APPENDIX. 
 
 Edward talk like one of Cromwell's preaching captains, quoting 
 Scripture at. every turn. But as Matthew himself was hardly 
 present at that siege, we can feel no certainty as to these quota- 
 tions from the book of Psalms. All that we can safely gather 
 is, that the king was probably acquainted with some portions of 
 Scripture, and was wont occasionally to bring them into his 
 common conversation. 
 
 In like manner, John of Westminster, being employed by 
 Queen Margaret to write a memorial of her departed husband, 
 tells us, doubtless from hearsay, how " the aged king," in his 
 last moments, " spread his hands to heaven, after the manner of 
 the Messed Martin, and exclaimed, ' Lord ! if hitherto I have 
 been in some small way necessary to thy people, I refuse not to 
 undergo further toil for them. But if it is meet for me 
 to die, the blessing is mine. I, thy unprofitable servant, am 
 almost seventy years of age, and from my youth up I have tried 
 to devote my labours wholly unto thee. And now a new 
 enemy is coming against thy people ! But thy will be done !'" 
 We must receive all this, like Matthew's quotations from Scrip- 
 ture, with some reserve. Still, as John wrote in the presence 
 of those who knew the king, and were near him at the close of 
 his life, we may suppose that this was not wholly fictitious, or 
 merely the language of eulogy. Some such ending would be con- 
 sistent with the whole tenor of Edward's strictly religious life. 
 
 There was found in the Tower of London, a few years ago, a 
 manual of private devotion, written on a small vellum roll, such 
 as might conveniently be carried about the person, and in the 
 Norman-French which was used in Edward's day. Nothing 
 can be discovered as to its owner ; but if it ever belonged to a 
 king, we must assign it to cither Henry III. or to Edward, for 
 neither John nor Edward II. were at all likely to possess such 
 a volume. It will be remembered that both Henry and Edward 
 were, for some years, residents in the Tower. And it exactly 
 tallies with Matthew of Westminster's portrait of Edward; for, 
 
APPENDIX. 449 
 
 among other things, it contains an enumeration of proper psalms 
 to be repeated upon particular occasions. One of its principal 
 hjmn-prayers begins thus : — 
 
 " Douce sjr' Jesu Christ eyez mercy de moy 
 Ky de ceil en tre venystez par moy 
 E de la vergyne Marie nasquez par moy 
 E en la seynte creys mort suffriyez par moy." 
 
 The -whole hymn has been thus given in English prose, in 
 Bentley's Excerpta Historica, p. 407 : — 
 
 " Sweet Lord Jesu Christ ! have mercy upon me ; who for 
 me didst come from heaven upon earth ; and for me 
 wast born of the Virgin Mary; and for me didst 
 suffer death upon the holy cross ! 
 
 " Mercy ! I pray thee, Jesu, my very Saviour, my solace, 
 my comfort, my joy, my happiness ! Take away from 
 my heart pride, anger, and rancour, that I may 
 willingly serve and love thee as my Lord. 
 
 " Much ought I to love thee, for thou didst exceedingly 
 love me, when thou didst willingly humble thy God- 
 head so far, that here, though thou wert and art 
 Almighty God, thou didst become man, bearing 
 human flesh. 
 
 " Upon earth thou didst suffer travail and many distresses, 
 cold, and hunger, and thirst ; anguish, and griefs : 
 thou didst pour forth thy blood, and didst shed many 
 tears, and at last didst deign to die for all sinners. 
 
 " Hard and piteous was thy death, when thy most holy 
 body, which never did sin, with many wrongful suffer- 
 ings was vilely treated: between thieves wast thou 
 hung and raised upon the cross. 
 
 " With sharp thorns they crowned thy head ; with nails 
 they pierced thy hands and feet ; with a lance they 
 made a deep wound in thy side, whence issued both 
 water and blood, which washed us from sm. 
 
450' APPENDIX. 
 
 " Tiiou hast thy head inclined to call us, and thy arms ex- 
 tended to embrace us, and thy side open to shew thy love 
 to us : high on the cross didst thou ascend to save us all. 
 
 " Therefore I pray thee, Jesu Christ ! have compassion on 
 me, that I be not for my sins delivered to pm-gatory : 
 put in my heart true humility, that I may have 
 perfect love towards thee and towards my neighbour. 
 
 " Often have I provoked thee, Jesu ! to anger, in word, 
 in deed, in speech and foolish thought, sleeping and 
 awake, in inn and chamber, by enticement of others, 
 and by my own unruly will. 
 ^ -H- -Jf -H- * * * 
 
 " Therefore I pray thee, Jesu Christ ! hear my confession, 
 nardon all the wickedness that I have done, enable 
 me to make worthy satisfaction, and to do true 
 penance before death, for thy name's sake, Jesu ! 
 
 " Moreover, I pray thee, sweet Jesu ! if I do anything 
 good, give me thy grace that I fall not into vain- 
 glory ; and that the good I ardently labour for be not 
 brought to nought by the evil spirit that always 
 pursues me. 
 
 " Open my heart, I pray thee, Jesu ! for thy name's sake, 
 that I may have a due sense of the passion thou didst 
 suffer in the body : give me thoughts of true compas- 
 sion, that I may be a partaker of thy redemption. 
 
 " Give me grace, I pray thee, Jesu ! so to watch over my 
 life here, that I may keep every day holy to thee ; 
 make me to have a conscience guarding me from 
 mortal sin; deliver me safe from my enemies, that I 
 may worthily partake of thy precious body and blood. 
 
 " And if I fall into sin through any temptations by the 
 enticement of our perfidious enemies, may it please 
 thee, Jesu ! to grant me true remission, and contem- 
 plation upon thee continually. 
 
APPENDIX. 451 
 
 " For myself I implore thee, and for all my friends, and 
 for all Christians, and for all dead and living ; shew 
 us the brightness of thy countenance, and bring us all 
 together to the joys of paradise !" 
 
 It is almost unnecessary to observe, that there is scarcely a 
 word in this prayer which Wicliffe would not have willingly 
 used, or in which Luther, for the first few years of his Christian 
 life, would not have joined. One or two allusions to penance 
 and to purgatory are the only exceptions which even a Pro- 
 testant of our own day can make to its language. And we may 
 safely say, that any one, in any age, who can honestly and 
 from the heart make this prayer his own, is in the way which 
 leadeth to everlasting life. 
 
 - A YEAR'S EXPENDITUEE OF THE KING. 
 
 It is now more than seventy years since the Society of Anti- 
 quarians published " The Account of the Comptroller of the 
 Wardrobe, of the twenty-eighth year of king Edward I., a.d. 
 1299-1300 ;" and it is probable that few of the readers of this 
 volume have ever seen that publication. It seems desirable, 
 therefore, to give, in this place, a brief sketch of that Account, 
 the whole details of which form a quarto volume. "We shall 
 confine ourselves to a few general heads. 
 
 I. 
 
 The Keeper or treasurer of the "Wardrobe acknowledges the 
 receipt, from various sources, of a total sum, within 
 the year, of - - - ^58,155 I65. 2d. 
 
45a APPENDIX. 
 
 II. 
 
 He tlien~gives an account of his disbursements, under 
 twelve heads, as follows : — 
 
 1. Alms and oblations, for the relief of £ s. d, 
 the poor, or as religious offerings. 
 
 The payments fill thirtj-one quarto 
 pages, and are of every description. 
 The total for the year - - 1,166 14 6 
 
 2. The next head is that of necessaries 
 bought for the use of the king's house- 
 hold, and for charges and expenses of 
 ambassadors, messengers, &c., — the 
 
 total being - - - - 3,338 19 3 
 
 3. Then follows the victualling and stores 
 for the king's army in Scotland, and 
 for the supplies for the garrisons of 
 
 his castles in that country - - 18,638 1 8 
 
 4. Next, gifts and rewards ; and payment 
 
 for horses lost by knights and others 
 
 in the king's service - - 4,386 4 5 
 
 5. Allowances to knights of the king's 
 household ; and of foreign troops re- 
 tained in the king's service - 
 
 6. Wages of the engineers, archers, and 
 
 sergeants-at-arms of the household - 
 
 7. Wages of foot-soldiers, archers, artifi- 
 
 cers, and workmen - - - 
 
 ,, Wages to seamen of the Cinque Ports 
 
 and other towns - - - 
 
 8. Expenses of king's messengers 
 
 9. Wages and expenses of the huntsmen, 
 
 falconers, hawks, &c. - - 77 6 11 
 
 10. Allowances to knights, bannerets, &c. 
 
 of the household, for robes - - 714 3 4 
 
 3,077 
 
 19 
 
 1,038 
 
 10 7 
 
 4,446 
 
 9 11 
 
 1,233 
 
 9 8 
 
 87 
 
 11 1 
 
- 6,934 
 
 - 3,668 
 
 6 
 2 
 
 
 9 
 
 L- 
 
 581 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 ^54,085 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 APPENDIX. 453 
 
 £> s. d. 
 
 11. Goldsmiths' and jewellers' accounts - 253 15 6 
 
 12. Includes clotli, furs, wax, and other 
 
 things for the use of the household - 4,391 19 
 
 Wines and other liquors for the use of 
 the household 
 
 Separate account of the queen 
 
 Costs and charges of the king's Chan- 
 cery ... 
 
 To which is added, for some current expenses of the house- 
 hold, the particulars of which do not appear to have 
 been preserved, the sum of £10,969 16s. Of?. 
 
 So that the treasurer, on this account, would appear to 
 have been in advance. But there was, doubtless, 
 money daily coming in, and he probably had some 
 bills not yet discharged. 
 
 The calculations of Bishop Fleetwood's tables shew the value 
 of money to have been fifteen times as great at that day 
 as it is now. This would make the royal revenue to 
 amount to about £800,000 per annum. Out of which 
 the king paid, in 1300, what would now be about 
 ^£500,000, for his troops, seamen, garrisons, &c. ; 
 about £270,000 for the expenses of his household, 
 exclusive of robes, jewels, huntsmen, and charities; 
 which last item, of Alms and oblations, in the money of 
 our time, would be equal to nearly £18,000 a-year. 
 
454 APPENDIX. 
 
 0xxQm mx)i (BxoM^ oi lljc (Bn^lislj y^cjbbtwn. 
 
 UNDER THE NORMAN KINGS. A.D. 1016—1216, 
 
 A.D. 1066. Great Councils occasionally held. No Statutes 
 made. These Councils are generally called 
 to " a Curia," or " a Convention," 
 
 Brief Charters by Henry I. and by Stephen. 
 „ 1215. Magna Charta extorted from John. 
 
 UNDER HENRY HI. A.D. 1216—1279. 
 
 Long Minority of the King. 
 
 A.D. 1236. A Curia, or Council, held at Merton, consisting 
 of Archbishops, Bishops, Earls, and Barons. 
 
 „ 1246, Frequent Councils of Barons held, to consult of 
 to granting the King an aid. Angry discussions. 
 
 „ 1258. The word " Parliament " first used by 
 
 Matthew Paris in 1246. 
 
 „ 1258. A Parliament at Oxford ; Archbishops, Bishops, 
 Earls, and nearly 100 Barons. 
 
 ,, 1259. A general Parliament in London. 
 
 „ 1265. A Parliament summoned to Westminster by 
 Simon de Montfort, in the King's name; 
 Writs sent to Archbishop, Bishops, Abbots, 
 5 Earls, 17 Barons, and to the Sherifts, to 
 send Knights from the Counties, and Bur- 
 gesses from certain Towns. 
 
 ,, 1266. The King freed. A Parliament at Kenilworth. 
 Influence of Prince Edward paramount. 
 
 „ 1267. A Parliament, or "Commune Concilium Rcgni," 
 at Marlborough : " Tho more discreet men of 
 the realm being called together ; as well of 
 the higher as of tho lower estate." 
 
APPENDIX. 455 
 
 UNDEE EDWAED I. A.D. 1272—1307, 
 
 A.D. 1272. Accession. 
 ,, 1274. Coronation. 
 
 „ 1275. A P^i^LiAiiENT at Westminster : the first so termed 
 in the Statute-book : consisting of Arch- 
 bishojjs, Bishops, Earls, Barons, and " la 
 Communaut^ de la Ten-e." 
 Parliaments at Westminster and at Winchester, 
 A Parliament. 
 A Parliament at Gloucester. 
 A Parliament at Westminster. 
 A Parliament at Northampton. 
 A Parliament at Shrewsbuiy ; Writs to 11 Earls, 
 99 Barons, 2 Knights for each Coimtj, 2 
 Citizens fi'om each of 21 Cities. 
 A Parliament at Ehudland. 
 Parliaments in Westminster and in Winchester. 
 
 The King now abroad. 
 Parliament at Westminster. 
 Parliament at Westminster. 
 
 Scottish Arbitration. War with France. 
 1295. Parliament at Westminster ; Writs to Arch- 
 bishops, Bishops, Earls, Barons, Knights, 
 and Bui'gesses of 115 Towns. 
 Parliament at Bury St. Edmund's. 
 Parliament at York ; Earls, Barons, Knights, 
 
 and Burgesses of 127 Towns. 
 Parliaments in London and Westminster. 
 Parliament in London ; Ai'chbishops, 17 Bishops, 
 99 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses of 128 
 Towns. 
 1301 Parliament at Lincoln; Ai'chbishops, Bishops, 
 Earls, Barons, Knights, and Burgesses of 
 137 Towns. 
 1302. Parliament in London ; Archbishops, Bishops, 
 9 Earls, 82 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses 
 from 146 To^\^ls. 
 1304. Parliament in Westminster ; Archbishops, Bi- 
 shops, 9 Earls, 94 Barons, Knights, and 
 Bui'gesses of 159 ToAvns. 
 1306. Parliament in Carlisle ; Archbishops, Bishops, 
 7 Earls, 63 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses 
 of 165 Towns. 
 
 }J 
 
 1276. 
 
 >J 
 
 1277. 
 
 t> 
 
 1278. 
 
 » 
 
 1279. 
 
 » 
 
 1282. 
 
 » 
 
 1283. 
 
 » 
 
 1284. 
 
 >> 
 
 1285. 
 
 >> 
 
 1289. 
 
 >> 
 
 1290. 
 
 >> 
 
 1296 
 
 jj 
 
 1298 
 
 >> 
 
 1299 
 
 >> 
 
 1300 
 
456 APPENDIX. 
 
 #n0m anir ^mtotlj oi ^n^lblj '^t^mMxan, 
 
 UNDER THE NORMAN KINGS. A.D. lOGG— 1216. 
 
 A.D. 1106. Charters granted by Henry I. 
 „ 1135. „ „ Stephen. 
 
 „ „ Henry II. 
 
 " 1915. Magna Charta, by John. 
 
 UNDER HENRY III. A.D, 1216—1972. 
 
 A.D. 1216. Minority of the King. 
 
 „ 1236. The "Statutes of the Realm"' commence. 
 
 „ „ The Provisions of Merton. " It was provided in 
 the Court of our Lord the King." 
 The Statute of Ireland. A Royal Ordinance, 
 
 „ 1256. A Provision for Leap Year. A Royal Ordinance. 
 
 „ 1269. Provisions made by the King and his Council. 
 
 „ 1266. The Dictum of Kenibvorth. An awaixl between 
 the King and the revolted Barons. 
 
 „ 1267. (Prince Edwai'd now possesses influence.) 
 
 The Statutes of Marlborough ; styled " These Acts, 
 Ordinances, and Statutes underwritten." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 457 
 
 
 UNDER 
 
 EDWARD I. A.D. 1272—1307. 
 
 A.D. 1S72. 
 
 Accession of Edward. 
 
 ., 1274. 
 
 Coronation. 
 
 „ 1275. 
 
 The Statutes of Westminster. 
 
 „ 1276. 
 
 The Statute of Bigamy. 
 
 
 
 The Office of Coroners. 
 
 
 
 The Statute concerning Justices. 
 
 
 , 1278. 
 
 The Statutes of Gloucester. 
 
 
 , 1279. 
 
 The Statute of Mortjnain. 
 
 
 , 1283. 
 
 The Statute " de Mercatorihus." 
 
 
 , 1284. 
 
 The Statutes of Wales. 
 
 
 , 1285. 
 
 Statute Circumsp. Agatis. 
 
 
 > >) 
 
 Statutes of Westminster II. 
 
 
 > J) 
 
 Statute of Winton. 
 
 
 , 1290. 
 
 Statute of " Quo Warranto.'* 
 
 
 ) )> 
 
 Statute of " Quia Emptores." 
 
 
 > )) 
 
 Statutes of Westminster III. 
 
 
 , 1299. 
 
 Statutes " de Finibus levatis." 
 
 
 > » 
 
 Statute " de Falsa Moneta." 
 
 
 , 1301. 
 
 Statute for Escheators. 
 
 
 , 1306. 
 
 Statute for Joint Tenants. 
 
 1 
 
 \ „. -.,- 
 
 , 1307. 
 
 Statute of Carlisle. 
 
 ~.^.- .. — ' 
 
 it 
 
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