£f? WM ' --Z — *? This book was digitized by Microsoft Corporation in cooperation with Yale University Library, 2008. You may not reproduce this digitized copy ofthe book for any purpose other than for scholarship, research, educational, or, in limited quantity, personal use. You may not distribute or provide access to this digitized copy (or modified or partial versions of it) for commercial purposes. EEVOLUTIONS IN ENGLISH HISTORY. BY ROBERT VAUGHAN, D.D. VOL. I. EEVOLUTIONS OF EACE. LONDON: JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND. i8£p. The Author reserves the right of Translation. LONDON : SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET, COVENT GARDEN. . (J ~f~ PREFACE. TN this work the reader will not find everything he ¦ would expect to find in a puhlication bearing the title of a History of England. But it is intended that these pages shall include so much of the past as will suffice to give full presentation and prominence to the great changes in the history of this country, showing whence they have come, what they have been, and whither they have tended. My narrative, accordingly, while not described as a History of England, is designed to serve the purpose for which all such histories have been professedly written. English history embraces much in common with the history of Europe, together with much that has been cha racteristic of itself; and it is reasonable that English men should be more interested in what has been special to their country, than in details which might have had their place in the history of any one among a large family of states. The question to which this work is designed to present an answer is — What is it that has made England to be England ? My object is to conduct the reader to satisfactory conclusions in relation to this question, by a road much more direct and simple than is compatible with the laws to which a 2 iv PREFACE. the historian usually conforms himself when writing the general history of a nation. Our busy age needs some assistance of this nature. But while the spirit of our times is sufficiently disposed to appreciate directness and compression in authorship, it is, I am aware, by no means disposed to accept superficiality in the place of thoroughness. I do not affect to be unacquainted with what modern writers have published on English history ; but it is only due to myself to state, that on no point of im portance in relation to my object, have I allowed myself to be dependent on such authorities. In many instances, when I have contented myself with citing a modern author, it has not been until after an ex amination of the sources adduced in support of his statements. It has been .my earnest wish that this work should be the result throughout of a fair mea sure of independent research and of independent thought. The sense in which I use the term ' Revolution' scarcely needs explanation. The word is meant to comprehend the great phases of change in our history, due place being assigned to the great cause in regard to each of them. Down to the close of the fourteenth century, change among us comes mainly from the conflicts of race. Under the Tudors, the great prin ciple of revolution is religion ; under the Stuarts, that principle gives place considerably to -the principles of government. The first question to be settled was the question of race; the next concerned the national faith ; and the next, the future of the English Con- PREFACE. V stitution. Many causes contributed to the strength of these leading causes of action, but through their respective periods these are felt to be leading causes, and the effects which flow from them are all more or less impressed by them. In the progress of Great Britain since 1688, no single cause has acquired the prominence of the causes above mentioned. In taking up such a theme as the Revolutions in English History, it is probable that no two writers would be agreed as to the best method of dealing with it — or as to the principle that should determine the selection of material, and where to stop. On these points, and on many beside, I have to throw myself on the candour of the reader. The course I have taken has been chosen after the best thought I could bestow on the subject. In the further prosecution of my object, I hope to avail myself freely of the rich material in the State Paper Office, still in manuscript, and which, thanks to the present Master of the Rolls, is becoming more accessible every day for the pur poses of history. Heath Lodge, Uxbbidge, 1859. CONTENTS. BOOK I. CELTS AND ROMANS. CHAPTER I. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. I'AGE I Prehistoric period . Phoenicia .... Phoenician history Greek testimony . "Voyage of Himilco Polybius — Diodorus — Strabo Britain as described by the Romans 8 Ancient British states . . Races of ancient Britain Caledonians — Picts and Scots Question of a Pre-Celtic race Physical features of the an cient Britons .... CHAPTER II. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. Rome in the time of Caesar Caesar's policy in invading Britain ... News-vending in ancient Rome .... Caesar's preparations Landing — Submission — Re- volt .... Second submission Second invasion Military operations Cassivelaunus . . Departure of Caesar British resistance . Subsequent progress Caligula's expedition Plautius and Claudius . Plautius and Ostorius Defeat of the Icenians Caractacus and the Silures '516 i7 19 20 21222324 25 26 27283031 32 Caractacus in Rome . . The Britons not subdued Suetonius Slaughter ofthe Druids . Roman oppression . . Revolt under Boadicea . Massacre of the Romans . Slaughter of the Britons Julius Agricola . . . The Caledonians . . . Battle of Ardoch . . . Conquest completed . . Adrian and Antoninus ¦ . Commodus — disorder . . Campaign — wall of Severus The Scots — Carausius Theodosius — Maximus . Departure ef the Romans "Work of the sword in Bri tain 10 12 13 33353536 3839 404344 4546 48 48 495° 5i52 54 55 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. EFFECT OF THE. ASCENDENCY OF THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN ON GOVERNMENT. Celtic popular assemblies Kings — Revenue — The Druids Roman government . Roman colonization . Provinces in Britain . . . JMOJS 56 57 58 59 60 Colonies — Municipia — Latian towns 6J The prefect and procurator . 62 Revolution in government . 63 Roman force in Britain . . 65 CHAPTER IV. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. British Druidism .... 66 Doctrine of the Druids . . 67 Sacred groves — Religious rites 68 The Romans intolerant of Druidism 7° Christianity 7 l Fictions and misconceptions 72 Legend of King Lucius . . The probable truth . . . Persecution under Diocletian Council of Aries '. . . . Pelagius and Celestius . . Lupus and Germanicus 74767778 7980 Summary 81 CHAPTER Y. EFFECT OF THE ROMAN ASCENDENCY ON SOCIAL LIFE. Agriculture 83 Clothing — Art 84 Impediments to British civi lization 86 British earthworks ... 87 Roman civilization . . . 89 Mines — Coal — Metals . . 90 Roman roads 91 Educated life 92 End of Druidism — Pine arts — General culture . . Roman cities in Britain . Influence of Roman cities Revolution in manners . Csesar on British morals . Summary Distribution of race . . 93 94959<5 97 100 104 BOOK II. SAXONS AND DANES. CHAPTER I. SOURCES OF ANGLO-SAXON HISTORY. British authorities . . .107 Gildas — Nennius . . . .109 Scandinavian poetry ahd tra dition no Anglo-Saxon writers — Bede 1 1 1 Saxon Chronicle . . . .112 Ancient laws 113 Anglo-Norman writers . .114 Authority of the Anglo- Norman writers . . .115 CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. THE MIGRATION. Britain as left by the Romans 1 1 6 Picts and Scots . . . .117 Repulsed by the Britons . .117 Pinal departure of the Ro mans 118 Picture of Britain by Gildas 119 The Saxons Hengist and Horsa . Saxon and British accounts Rise of the Octarchy . . British resistance . . . Summary IX PAGE 120122123124 125125 CHAPTER III. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. Anglo-Saxon wars . . . .127 Design ofthe Saxon invaders 128 Office of Bretwalda . . .129 The Heptarchy 131 NTorthumbria 132 Mercia 133 Offa and Charlemagne . .134 Murder of Ethelbert . . .135 Progress of Wessex . . .136 Cedwalla — Ina 137 Egbert — Elective monarchy 139 "Why continued . . . .140 Tendencies towards unity . 141 CHAPTER IV. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. Wessex, Mercia, and Nor- Danes in Wessex . . . 153 thumbria .... 142 Alfred at Reading . . 154 Danger from the Danes J43 Ashdune 154 Descent of the Danes . 144 Progress of the Danes 157 Causes of the movement 145 Alfred's retreat . . . 158 Intentions of the Danes 146 Battle of Ethadune . . . 159 Ragnar Lodbrog . . 148 Treaty with Guthorm 159 Inguar and Ubbo . . • 149 Invasion under Hastings 161 Check at Nottingham 150 Edward and Athelstan . 162 Battle of Kesteven J5i Battle of Brunanburgh . 163 Danish ravages — King Ed Athelstan king of England 163 152 CHAPTER V. RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. Edmund succeeds Athelstan 164 Insurrection 165 Edwy — Edgar . . . .166 Edward the Martyr — Ethel red the Unready . . .167 Massacre of the Danes . .168 Edmund Ironside . . . .169 Canute becomes king . . .173 Retrospect 174 Ancient and modern England 175 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VL EFFECT OF THE SAXON AND DANISH CONQUESTS ON THE DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. PAGE Location of the Danes . .182 Norwegians in Cumberland . 183 PAGHB Diversities of race 176 Location of the Britons . . 178 The Angles in Northumbria 181 CHAPTER VII. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. Religion — its potency . .187 Saxon heathendom . . .188 Odin -worship — Other deities 189 Story of Balder . . . .192 Evil deities — Pates . . .193 Worship 194 Summary on Saxon heathen dom 195 Christianity 198 Augustine 202 The British bishops . . • . 202 Iona and its missionaries . 205 Aidan 207 209210213214 216 Work of Scottish mission aries in England Progress of Christianity . . The new faith not pure . . The old faith and the new . Results from this revolution in religion Priestly power 217 Policy of the clergy . . .218 Life of Wilfrid . . . . .220 Odo and St. Dunstan . . .229 Edwy and Elgiva .... 232 Better effects of Christianity 234 Bede, Biscop, and Aidan . 236 CHAPTER VIII. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. Feudal relations . . . .239 Landholding 242 Confederations of settlers . 243 Local government . . . .244 Free and the Not-free . .245 Noble by birth and by service 248 The family 251 The tithing and hundred . 254 The wergild 255 The Witanagemote . . .256 Shires and people . . . .257 Different holdings of land . 258 Rise of towns 259 Government in towns . .261 The king 262 The king's household . . .263 Jurors and compurgators . 264 Trial by ordeal 265 Summary of the revolution in government . . . .266 CHAPTER IX. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. Agriculture , 269 Draining and embankments 271 Handicraft and foreign trade 272 Intellectual life . . , .273 Music and poetry . . . .274 Prose literature . . . .276 Culture of the Danes . . . 277 Science in Anglo-Saxon Bri tain 279 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER X. CONCLUSION. BOOK III. NORMANS AND ENGLISH. CHAPTER I. THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. The Normans . . '. . .285 Northmen in France . . .286 Rollo, first duke of Nor mandy 287 William I., Richard I. and II. 288 Richard III., Robert the Devil 289 William the Conqueror . . 290 Society in Normandy . . .291 Christianity 292 Defective civilization of the Normans 293 Norman legislation and go vernment 294 Origin of chivalry . . . .295 Character of the Normans . 296 Story of Harold's pledge to William 297 Death of the Confessor . .298 Landing of William . . .299 Tostig and Hardrada . . . 300 Battle of Stamford Bridge 301 Harold's limited resources . 304 William's proposal . . . 305 Harold's reply 305 Battle of Hastings . . .306 CHAPTER II. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO PROPERTY. Opinion of Selden and Hale 315 Feudal tenures 316 Knight service and soccage . 317 Military power — State of towns 318 Submission of the English . 311 William's coronation . . .312 His pretensions . . . .312 Displacement of the Saxons 313 Distribution of manors . .314 CHAPTER III. THE CONQUEST IN. ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. Why the battle of Has Agricultural population . 328 tings was so decisive . .319 Serfs and free tenants 329 Subsequent resistance . .320 Confederation at Ely . . 33° Fate of the Alfgars . . 33o State of the north . . . .322 Hereward 33i William's devastations . .323 Death of Waltheof . . 333 Removal of the Saxon clergy 324 Anglo-Saxon women . 334 Anglo-Norman clergy . .326 Last form of resistance . 335 Xll CONTENTS. Rise of towns . Lord Macaulay Normans . . Change in English feeling . 336 Cumberland outlaws . . -337 Robin Hood 338 Retrospect 34° CHAPTER IV. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. and the PAGE 341 343 Common law and statute law 345 Feudalism in England . .346 Feudal incidents . . . -347 Meeting at Salisbury . . . 347 Rule of the Conqueror . .348 Laws of the Confessor . .349 Trial by jury — its origin . 350 Jurors and taxation . . .352 Jurors and parliament . .353 King's court — and council . 355 Judicial power of the council 356 King's relation to the law . 358 Itinerant judges .... 360 Growth of popular power . 361 3^3 Two great principles Source of authority among the Germans 363 Judicial corruption Wealth of the crown Subsidies — tenths and fif teenths . -r . . . Imports and exports . . Good from the Conquest Distinctions of, race much effaced 369 Popular liberty 370 King John and the barons . 371 Magna Charta 374 364366 3«7368 3^9 CHAPTER V. THE CONQUEST IN Spiritual courts. . . . Transubstantiation . . Celibacy of the clergy Lanfranc The married clergy . . Anselm His dispute with Rufus . Henry I. — Investitures . Exemption of monasteries ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 378 379 380 380384385 386387392 Thomas a Becket .... 393 Constitutions of Clarendon . 397 Policy of the crown . . .398 Progress of the dispute . . 400 Becket's violence and death 402 Popular feeling 403 Result of the controversy . 404 Religion 405 Religious persecution . . . 408 CHAPTER VI. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. The Conquest injurious to industry 410 Improvement — imports . .411 The Cinque Ports — the Jews 412 Regulations concerning trade 414 History of Longbeard . .415 Patronage of learning . .421 Lay schools 422 "Universities 423 Arab literature 427 Aristotle 428 Anglo-Norman historians . 429 Civil and canon law • . Romance literature . . Geoffrey of Monmouth , Norman architecture . 43°431 434437 Retrospect 438 CONTENTS. Xlll BOOK IV. ENGLISH AND NORMANS. CHAPTER I. INFLUENCE OF THE WARS OF ENGLAND ON THE ENGLISH NATIONALITY. PAGE Henry III. — His- wars . . 44 1 Edward I. — A naval victory 442 Invasion of France . . . 444 Wars of Edward I. . . . 445 Edward III.— Effect of his wars 446 Henry V. — Issue of wars with France 451 CHAPTER II. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. Progress of industrial power 455 Impeded by piracy . . .456 Middle Age navy . . . .457 Naval triumphs .... 457 Trade impeded by legislation 458 Prejudice against foreign merchants 459 Introduction of weavers . . 460 Merchants of the Staple . . 461 Companies 461 The English engage in fo reign trade 462 Agriculture 463 A corn law 465 Free labour ..:... 466 Parliament regulates wages . 467 Value of labour in the four teenth century . . . .468 Retrospect 470 CHAPTER III. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. The English language . .472 French metrical romance . 474 British traditions . . . .476 Vision qf Piers Plowman . 478 Chaucer 479 English prose — Maundeville —Wycliffe 482 Occleve and Lydgate . . . 484 Progress of art 485 Comparative rudeness of Mid dle-age life ; . . . .487 The universities . . . .488 City life 489 CHAPTER IV. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. Trade and freedom . . . 490 The king's council . . . .490 Representative principle . 491 The Great Charter . . Its immediate effects . . First House of Commons 492 493 495 XIV CONTENTS. PAas Rising influence of towns . 497 Parliaments under Edward I. 498 Hereford and Norfolk . .501 The statute De Tallagio non Concedendo 504 Political life under Edward I. 508 Edward as a legislator . .510 Parliaments under Edward .II 513 Civil war — Gaveston . . .517 The Spencers — Battle of Boroughbridge . . . .518 Deposition of the king . .520 Edward III. — Settled form of parliament . ... 521 Power of the Commons . Tonnage and poundage . Law of treason . . • ¦ Liberties gained . . ¦ Historical significance of par liamentary history . . Condition of the people . Free and skilled labour . The English aristocracy not a privileged noblesse . Growth of independence . Condition of the suffrage Purveyance grievances . Popular discontent . . Wat Tyler 523525526528 529529 53° 532 533 534 535 53« 537 CHAPTER V. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. Papal power — Its culminat ing point 540 The papacy versus the na tional churches . . . .541 Peter's pence 542 King John's tribute . . .543 The custom of promisors . 543 Commendams .. . . . . 545 General corruptness . . .545 Ecclesiastical diplomacy . . 546 Grost&te 547 The pope's collectors . . .548 Resistance under Edward HI 549 The popes at Avignon . .552 Papal schism 553 Retrospect 554 Laws in revolutions . . .554 Social life in the counties . 556 Population of towns . . . 556 The Franciscans . . . - 557 Become city missionaries . 558 Their benevolence and suc cess .559 Become learned 561 Rapid deterioration . . . 562 Chaucer's pictures of society 563 Wycliffe 565 Proceedings against him . 569 Opposes the doctrine of transubstantiation . . . 57 * His opinions 572 Remonstrance of the Wyc- liffites . 575 Impolicy of the clergy . .576 Retrospect - . 577 CONTENTS. XV BOOK V. LANCASTER AND YORK. CHAPTER I. THE REACTION. PAGE Accession of Henry IV. . 579 His policy 580 Persecution 581 Sawtree and Badby . . .582 Reforming spirit of the Com mons 583 Arundel's constitutions . .584 Lord Cobham 586 Persecutions under Chicheley 587 Excesses of the reformers . 589 Clergy at fault 589 Reaction in Oxford . . . 59a Decline of learning . . .594 The aristocracy during the Civil War 595 CHAPTER II. THE DAWN. English constitution . . .599 Friars and the clergy. . .600 The new opinions embraced by clergymen .... 603 The people 604 Some encouragement of learning 606 The duke of Gloucester . .607 Earl of Worcester . . . 607 Earl Rivers 609 Lord Littleton 609 Sir John Fortescue . . .610 State of science . . . .612 Printing 613 Probabilities of the future . 614 Historical function of the papal power 615 Decline of the papal supre macy 616 Policy of the pontiffs . . .617 Corruption general . . .619 Revival of literature and art 620 Leo X. — -Scepticism in Italy 622 Prospects of society on the opening of the fifteenth century 623 Richard III 626 Accession of the house of Tudor 627 Rule of Henry VII. . . .628 His ecclesiastical policy . .629 BOOK I. CELTS AND ROMANS. CHAPTER I. THE EAKLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. THE man who treads the greensward of Dover book i. Cliff for the first time, wiU feel that before him is CHAP" '" the passage which must have been made by some of the earliest settlers in Britain. The white coast of Ofaul stretches along in the distance, and the track of voyagers in the unknown past seems to be still upon those waters. On those waters, too, the dark sides and the floating sails of the multitude of ships under the command of Caesar seem to be still visible. But in the age of Csesar many centuries must have passed since the first rude wicker-boat grazed its oxhide "covering on our shore and landed the first man. Some hundreds of winters must then have come and gone since the first attempt was made to penetrate our pri meval forests, or to compass our stagnant marshes. Ear back, even then, must the day have been when the eye of man — that probably half-naked and wondering new-comer — fell for the first time on the waters of the Thames and the Humber, the Severn and the Mersey. But man comes in his season : and now the day will come when the borders of the Thames shall be no longer a wilderness, and. when from the banks of the Mersey other sounds shall be heard than those of untamed animals in search of prey. I b 2 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. But how soon change by the hand of man began cha^j. tQ make itg appearance in Britain is a point on which we cannot speak with exactness. Rude nations do not write histories, and it is not until they begin to cast off their rudeness that civilized nations begin to write history for them. We know, however, that the merchants of Phoenicia were the people to open the first communication between this island and distant countries. It is the commercial spirit that gives to Britain her place for the first time in history. So we were called from our obscurity by the kind of enter prise which was to be the source of our ultimate greatness. Phoenicia. The strip of the coast of Syria known to the ancients as Phoenicia, did not measure much more than a hundred miles in length, and scarcely twenty in breadth. Along the inland border of Phoenicia rose the snow-covered mountains of Lebanon, with their slopes and ravines darkened here and there by their ancient cedars. Erom those highlands roots were sent off as rocky promontories into the sea. The coast was thus broken up into a succession of bays; which . became harbours, and fitting places for for tresses and walled cities. The Phoenicians knew well how to use such advantages. As the mariner spread his sail in front of the city of Aradus, and with a favouring breeze from the land, turned the high prow of his vessel towards Egypt, every few miles placed him abreast with a new city. Tripolis, Berytus, Sidon, Tyre — all rose thus in succession from the sea. The land between those cities was studded with cities of less importance, and with villages. Every where the signs of industry were visible, in the cul ture of the field, of the vine, and of the olive. The relation of this chain of cities to the countries east ward of them, and westward, was for many centuries the same with that of the great cities of Italy in the Middle Ages. Phoenicia and Italy had their place at about the middle of the civilized world ; and both were THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 3 the means, in their time, of enabling the one half of book i. the human family to interchange commodities with c^Lzl' the other half. The greatness of the Phoenician power dates from Phoenician a thousand years before the age of Augustus. Its hl8torjr' prosperity continued unabated during the first half of that interval. Its ships visited every shore of the known world, and often penetrated into the unknown. In those remote times, Phoenician navigators made their way to Cape Finistere, and learnt to strike across the open sea to Britain. In such adventures the Cynosure, the last light in the Little Bear, was their chosen polestar. The Cynosure beams upon us as brightly as ever, but the Phoenician mariner is gone. Great military monarchies are bad neighbours to small commercial states. It fs in the nature, also, of such states, that they should rely too much on the aid of mercenaries — a dangerous weapon. The tendency of their wealth, too, is ever towards concentration and oligarchy. In time, the few who govern become divided by feuds between their rival houses, and the many who are governed become lost to patriotism.. So weakness within is all that remains to be opposed to strength from without. From these causes the soldier power prevailed at length in the history of Phoenicia over the merchant power. The glory of the past be came wholly of the past. In modern Tyre the fisher man dries his nets on the ruins of ancient palaces.* * Xenophon's description of a Phoenician vessel shows that the Phoeni cians greatly excelled the Greeks as seamen. ' The best and most accu rate arrangement of things I ever saw, was when I went to look at the great Phoenician ship. For I saw the greatest quantity of tackling- separately disposed in the smallest stowage. You k-now that a ship comes to anchor or gets under way by means of many wooden instruments and many ropes, and sails by means of many sails, and is armed with many machines against hostile vessels, and carries about with it many cooks for the crew, and all the apparatus which men use- in a dwelling-house for each mess. Beside all this the vessel is filled with cargo, which the owner carries for his own profit. And all that I have mentioned lay in not much greater space than will be found in a chamber large enough. B 2 4 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. But if Phoenicia was the first to discover the island CHAP- '' of Britain, it is to Greece we owe the first literary Greek testi- notiCes concerning it. When Paul preached to the men of Athens on Mars Hill, four centuries and a half had passed since Herodotus had read his History to the ancestors of the same people. That number of years in our own history would take us back to the days of Henry V. and the battle of Agincourt. Time does not become less by distance ; but, like all other objects, it seems to do so. In the age of Herodotus the kings of Rome had all passed away, and the patricians and plebs were committed to their great struggle. , But the historian, while he makes no mention of Rom6, deems it proper to state that, if he has not" spoken concerning ' the islands called Cassiterides, whence tin ' is imported,' it is because he had ' no certain know- ' ledge of them,' — a manner of expression which implies that the things rumoured at that time concerning the islands so named must have led his auditory to expect information on that subject. That tin and amber are brought, says the historian, from the extreme parts of Europe is unquestionable.* The word Cassiterides would have conveyed no meaning to a Briton or a Gaul. The word cassiteros for tin, is first found in Homer, but it does not appear to have been of Greek origin. There is no room to doubt, that in the Scilly Islands, we have the remains of the Cassiterides of, Herodotus. Aristotle flourished a century later than Herodotus. In a passage which has been attributed to that philo sopher, it is said that beyond the Celtae (Gaul) there are ' two very large islands called Britannic, Albion, and Ierne ;' and that near to Britain there are not a few small islands. Aristotle might readily have learnt conveniently to hold ten beds. All this too lay in such a way that they did not obstruct one another, so that they needed no one to seek them, and there were no knots to untie and cause delay, if they were suddeidy wanted for use." — (Economicus. Kenrick's Phoenicia, c vii. * Hist. lib. iii. § i ij. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 5 thus much from the Phoenician seamen of his time ; book i. but both the date and the authorship of the work in cf^l_'' which this passage is found are doubtful.* It was while Aristotle was teaching at Athens, that g^S^0' is, in 360 B.C., that the Carthaginians sent their great captain Himilco into these regions on a voyage of dis covery. This navigator explored ,the seas and coasts of Britain, and some fragments from the report made by him have reached us. These fragments are found in the ancient poem of Eestus Avienus. ; Himilco is there made to speak of this island, and especially of the point where the sea separates the Land's End in Cornwall from the islands beyond, in the following terms : ' Here rises the head of the promontory, in ' olden times named (Estrymnon, and below, the like- ' named bay and isles ; wide they stretch, and are rich ' in metals, tin and lead. Here a numerous race of ' men dwell, endowed with spirit, and with no slight ' industry, busied all in the cares of trade alone. They ' navigate the sea in their barks, built, not of pines or ' oak, but, strange to say, made of skins and leather: ' Two days long is the voyage thence to the Holy Island ' (once so called), which Hes expanded in the sea, the ' dwelling of the Hibernian race ; at hand lies the ' isle of Albion.'f In this passage, notwithstanding some obscure ex pressions, there is a clear reference to the Scilly Islands, to Mount's Bay, and Mount St. Michael. In our maps, the Scilly Islands consist of small dots sprinkled at Various distances on the sea. Albion, which is still near to those islands, was then no doubt much nearer, and the distance to Hibernia is not more than eighty miles. The mines of that district continue to yield large supplies of tin. It is not found anywhere in Britain except in that neighbourhood, and in a few places in the adjoining county of Devon. Spain, also, is said to have yielded some supplies of this metal ; * De Mundo, § 3. t Heeren-s Ancient Nations. 6 CELTS AND ROMANS. but in the Scilly Islands we see the Cassiterides (the tin islands) of Herodotus. poiybius. With the testimony of the Carthaginian admiral we must connect that of a Greek general. Between Himilco andPolybius there is the lapse of two centuries, Himilco, however, is our better guide. But we learn from Poiybius that many had ' discoursed very largely' in his time about the gold and silver mines of Spain, and about ' the Britannic Isles and the working of ' tin ;' and he accounts it necessary to offer a sort of apology for not doing something of the same sort himself. His language shows very clearly that a cen tury before the Roman invasion, and among those who spoke the Greek language, enough was known- con-. cerning Britain to make intelligent men desirous of knowing more.* We owe something, accordingly, to Poiybius, a man who added much of the virtue and wisdom of a sage, to the skill ahd courage of a soldier ; but we owe more to that ancient mariner who was the first to survey our coast, to sound our shores, and to become familiar with those British seas in which so many brave men were to do brave deeds in the time to come. ?nddstrabo ' -^u^ amcmg our Greek authorities in relation to ancient Britain, we have to mention the historian Dio- dorus Siculus, and Strabo the geographer. Both these authors were contemporary with Caesar and Augustus, both were men whose lives were given to the produc tion of the works which bore their names, and their fragments concerning Britain are much more certain and satisfactory than will be found in preceding writers. The Britain they describe is not so much the Britain of Kent, which Caesar had recently made known to them, as the Britain of Cornwall, as pre? viously known to Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and Greeks. Diodorus regards Britain as an island, and has attempted a description of its extent and form. * Hist. lib. iii. c. 57. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 7 The Britons, he writes, ' who dwell near that pro- book i: ' montory of Britain which is called Belerium (the CttAP" '" c Land's End), are singularly fond of strangers ; and, * from their intercourse with foreign merchants, are ' eivihzed in their manners. These people obtain tin ' by skilfully working the soil which produces it. The * soil being rocky, has hard crevices from which* they ' work out the ore, which they fuse and reduce to a ' metal. When they have formed.it into cubical shapes, ' they convey it to a certain island lying off Britain, ' named Ictis ; for at the low tides, the intervening '• space being dry land, they carry it thither in great 1 abundance in waggons.' At low tides, says the histo rian, the places which seemed to be islands become peninsulas. 'Here the merchants purchase the tin ' from the natives, and carry it across into Gaul ; whence ' it is conveyed on horses, through the intervening ' Celtic land, to the people of Massalia, and to the city ' called Narbonne.'* It will be seen that this account of the Cornwall Britons agrees substantially with that given by Himilco three centuries earlier. Strabo writes : ' The Cassiterides are ten in number, ' and lie near each other in the ocean towards the north ' from the haven of Artabri. One of them is a desert, ' but the others are inhabited by men in black cloaks, ' clad in tunics reaching to the feet, and girt about the ' breast. Walking with staves, and bearded like goats, ' they subsist by their cattle, leading for the most part ' a wandering life. And having metals of tin and lead, ' these and skins they barter with the merchants for ' earthenware, and salt, and brazen vessels. Formerly ' the Phoenicians alone carried on this traffic, by Gadeira * (Gibraltar), concealing the passage from every one : ' and when the Romans followed a certain shipmaster, ' that they might also find the mart, the shipmaster, ' out of jealousy, purposely ran his vessel upon a shoal, ' and leading on those who followed him into the same * Lib. V. C. 21, 22, 38. 8 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. < destruction, he himself escaped by means of a frag- CHAr' '" ' ment of the ship, and recovered from the state the ' value of the cargo he had lost.'* Strabo adds, that subsequently the Romans discovered this passage to Britain, and availed themselves of it, though much more circuitous than the journey by land. Two writers among the Greeks of Alexandria are cited by Diodorus and Strabo as authorities for what they relate concerning Britain, viz. Eratosthenes and Ar- temidorus — and these authors, no doubt, derived their information from their neighbours the Phoenicians. ' Scribed8 But it is to Roman authorship, beginning with by the bo- Caesar, that we are indebted for our earliest knowledge of Britain beyond the islands and the coast of Corn wall. From these authorities taken together, we learn that half a century before the Christian era, Britain was more or less peopled over its whole sur face. The Celts of Gaul are described by those writers as divided into a multitude of nations. Tacitus reckons them as sixty-four. f Appian raises the number to four hundred. J Judging from the number of clans which have divided the Highlands of Scotland between them down to very recent times, it is easy to suppose that the nations, and still more the tribes, in Celtic Gaul were very numerous. We know that this distinction between nation and tribe obtained in Britain. The people of Kent in the time of Caesar bore the common name of Cantii, but that general designation comprehended at least four tribes, each governed by its own prince or chieftain. § Of the nations in possession of the British territory south of the Clyde and Forth eighteen centuries since,' history makes distinct mention of twenty-five. Con cerning the number of tribes included in these nations Lib. iii. c. j. Some suppose the men seen in 'black cloaks,' and wearing long beards, to have been the Druids, not the population generally. But the official costume of the Druids was white, not black. f Ann. iii. 44. j De Bei civiL i; yu § De Bel. Gal. iii. 1. Caesar has given the names of the chiefs. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 9 our information is imperfect. Some of them, as will book i. be supposed, were much more populous than others, C"AP' '' and covered a larger territory. It is clear also, that Ancient .even among those rude communities something like a -Sates!' balance-of-power theory was in operation. The weak found comparative safety in being allied with the strong, and in becoming parties to the rivalries between the more powerful. There were great powers and less in the Britain of those days, as there have been great powers and less in Europe in later times. The Silures, for example, the subjects of the well- known Caractacus, who' are said to have had their origin and centre in the neighbourhood of the Wye, included the Ordovices and the Dimetse of North Wales among their allies, and could call their warriors together from the whole length of territory between the Usk on the borders of Glamorganshire in the south, and the Dee of Cheshire in the north, and from over the breadth of country between the Malvern Hills and the Wrekin in the east, and St. George's Channel in the west. The Brigantes were a still more powerful people. Their lands measured the breadth of the island, from the seaboard of Yorkshire on the one side to that of Lancashire on the other. It, in fact, embraced all the northern counties of modern England. The Cantii, as before stated, were in possession of Kent. The Belgae peopled Hamp shire and Wiltshire. The greater part of Middlesex, including London, was in the hands ofthe Trinobantes. The Damnonii are found almost everywhere south of the river Ex. Along the east coast, between the Thames in the south, "and the land of the Brigantes in the north, were the Iceni and the Coitanni. The spaces between these greater nations were occupied by many smaller, and the greater nations had become such by gradually absorbing many of less magnitude.* * Ptolem. viii. 2. Antonin. Itinerary. Baxter's Gloss. Brit. Hors-? ley's Britannia, Bomana — passim. Tacitus says the subdivisions of the TO CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. The question now comes — Of what race were these chapj. commimj^jes p r^ answer 0f Caesar is, that those of SSent Kent and its neighbourhood were an immigrant race Britain, from Belgic Gaul. This he learnt from the Belgians themselves ; and their representations were confirmed by what he saw on his first and second invasions. One of his pretences for these invasions was, the assist ance the Britons had rendered to their brethren and. allies in Gaul, when the latter were in arms against the Romans.* It is clear from subsequent authorities, that the people of the whole island were so far one in condition, customs, and language, as to be evidently of the same race. If some exception should be made in the case of the Picts, who became formidable in the Lowlands of Scotland at a later period, and of the Gaels, who have been always confined to the High lands of that country, we can only say that we do not regard the difference, even in these cases, as amounting to a difference of race. If the general statement now made be correct, to know the race of the Belgic Gauls in the time of Caesar, is to know the race of the British at that time. The common opinion is, that the Belgae were a branch of the great Celtic family. Nine-tenths of our most competent authorities are of this judgment, and nine- tenths of the evidence on the case is with them. That' the Germans and Celts bordered upon each other, and mixed in some degree together upon the territory now known as the Low Countries, may be admitted. But that circumstance is consistent with the fact that the language of all the known communities of Britain was found to be Celtic, and not German. The language of Wales is not the language of the Germans; the Gaelic speech is not the speech of that people. Next in importance to the evidence from identity in British people, and the consequent jealousies, prevented their acting together, and were constantly favourable to the success of the Eomans. — Vita Agric. xii. * De Bel. Gal. Picts and Scots. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 11 language, is the evidence from identity in religion, booki. Druidism, so different from Odinism, was dominant HLzlI' in Britain, and not less so in Celtic Gaul. Caesar, indeed, says that the inhabitants of the interior of Britain were born in the island, while those on the sea-coast were recent settlers. But he does not say to what extent this was the case. Nor does he say that the difference was a difference of race. Had he taken up such a rumour, or recorded such a conjecture, it could have weighed Uttle against the evidence in our possession. The Picts — the supposed ancestors of the Lowland Scotch — do not make their appearance in history under that name before the close of the third century of the present era. The controversy in regard to the origin of this name and people has been great and very bitter. They have become Germans, Scandina vians, Gaels, Britons, or nondescripts, according to the bias of our historians and antiquaries. From the remains of their language, as well as from other cir cumstances, the most reasonable, and now the most general opinion is, that - the Picts were from the com mon Celtic stock, and for the most part Britons. The natives who were not disposed to submit to the Roman sway, would naturally be drawn together along some comparatively safe border of the Roman territory; and would prove troublesome to those within it. Ptolemy makes these northern tribes to have been seventeen in number.* The Gaelic clans of the Highlands were also Celtae. But their language, and their geographical position, seem to shut us up to one of two conclusions — either that they must have come into that part of Britain from Ireland, or that they were the remains of an aboriginal race which had been forced into those * Worsaae'a Primeval Antiquities of Denmark, Wilson's Prehis toric Annals of Scotland, 470—473. Latham's Ethnology of the British Islands, c. iv. 12 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. mountain fastnesses, into the Isle of Man, and into chapj. Ireland ^elf, by the pressure of subsequent invaders. There are some difficulties in the way of the latter supposition, but evidence, upon the whole,, seems to preponderate in its favour. The Gaelic tongue is not British; Its only affinity is with the Irish. The word Aber, in Welsh, as in old British, denotes the estuary of a river, or any outlet of waters. The word Inver, in Gaelio and Irish, has the same meaning. The word Aber is so used, as a prefix to names of places, along a line extending from South Wales to the North of Scotland, marking off a territory to the right of that line as pervaded by the British tongue and race. The word Inver is commonly used for the same purpose through. the Highlands to the left of that line, be speaking the prevalence there of a tongue and race which are rather Irish than British. Thus, while the British tongue sounds along from Aberystwith to Aberdeen, the Gaelic makes itself heard from Inverary to Inverness.* - Question of That Britain was in some degree peopled by a pre face.6 e ' Celtic race is an opinion familiar to the learned. But the evidence on which- it rests is too fragmentary and uncertain to be available for history. There may have been, as our Northern antiquaries teach, an age of stone implements, and an age of bronze, preceding that age of iron which had come in the time of Caesar.^ But the line between those ages cannot be well defined, and the two former must be reckoned pre-historic. The race of the stone period, who had so far degene-. rated from the. civilization of those eastern lands whence their progenitors had long since migrated; * KertMe's Saxons in England, ii. p. j. In Scotland there are eleven names of places commencing with the one prefix, and -twelve commenc ing with the other. In Wales there are seven names commencing with aber — not one with inver. — Latham's Ethnology qf the British Islands, c. v. ... •.- . . t Worsaae's Primeval Antiquities qf Denmark. THE EARLY INHABITANTS OF BRITAIN. 13 must have passed away long before the age of Caesar, book i. like the vegetation of their own forests, leaving °HAP' '• scarcely a trace behind. Concerning the physical features of the inhabitants J^™1 of Britain at the commencement of the present era, the ancient ancient writers have said but little. The description Bnton8, of the trading and peaceful Britons of Cornwall, with their long beards, long tunics, and long walking-staves, is manifestly a description that must not be deemed applicable to the Britons beyond that district. The Britons seen by Caesar, though living in a colder lati tude than the people of Cornwall, were comparatively naked. They were clad in skins. They stained their bodies with Woad, covering them with , purple figures ; a custom not necessarily barbarous, inasmuch as it has been common among British seamen within our own memory. Its design could hardly have been to give fierceness to their aspect; it was the effect rather of a rude love of ornament. They wore a. moustache, but no beard. Their hair fell long upon their shoulders ; and they were brave and skilful in war. Strabo speaks of some Britons seen by him at Rome as being taller, than the Gauls, but more slightly built ; their hair, also, was less yellow ; and there was a want of symmetry in their lower limbs. There were no men in Rome so tall by half a foot.* It is possible, however, that these men were seen in procession ; and if so, they would be picked men, and not a fair sample of their race. Tacitus says the Britons varied in their physical appearance. The Caledonians had ruddy hair and large limbs. The Silures were more of an olive com plexion, and their hair mostly dark and curling — sug gesting an Iberian origin, and something in common perhaps between the proud Castilian and the country men of Caractacus. The tribes inhabiting the present Lowlands of Scotland he describes as a fierce people ; * Lib. iv. c. 5. § 2- Chap. i. 14 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. the Silures as powerful and brave ; and the Britons generally as not incapable of submission if mildly treated, but as passionate and uncontrollable under oppression. Herodian, describing the expedition of the Emperor Severus against the Caledonians, writes : ' They know ' not the use of clothing, but encircle their loins and ' necks with iron, deeming this an ornament and an ' evidence of opulence, in like manner as other barba- ' rians esteem gold. They puncture their bodies with ' pictured forms of every sort of animals ; on which ' account they wear no clothing, lest they should hide ' the figures on their bodies. They are a most warlike ' and sanguinary race, carrying only a small shield and ' a spear, and a sword girded to their naked bodies.'* If we accept this account as trustworthy, it will be clear from the pages of Tacitus and Dion Cassius, that the Britons of the south even in the-first century, were greatly in advance of the rudeness of the north three centuries later. Boadicea is described as a woman of queenly presence. When addressing her men of war, she wore a rich golden collar, and a parti-coloured floating vest, drawn close about her bosom, and ovej that a thick mantle fastened with a clasp. Her hair was of a yellow colour, and fell in profusion to her waist. Such, in brief, were the early inhabitants of Britain. More will be said of the state • in which the Romans found them as we proceed to mark the change intro duced by the coming in of that new power. Some rough experiences then came on the rude communities of this island. For civilized men do noif often estimate the suffering of the not civilized according to a law of humanity. It is deemed enough to estimate it ac cording to a law of caste. The blood of the rude flows — their hearts are broken — but what of that? Is such blood human— do such hearts really feel ? * Lib. iii. c. 24. ¦r w CHAPTER II. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. HEN Caesar meditated the invasion of Britain, book i. the great Roman Repubhc was not dead, but fill?- every new breath seemed to betoken the action of a^"11"" malady that must soon prove fatal. Marius, Sulla, Cffi3ar- and Cataline had done their work, and their history had revealed the general corruption of their times. Faction had come into the place of patriotism. Selfish ness had consumed public spirit. All that men like Cato and Cicero could do in the face of the enemies of the commonwealth, was to break the force of a fall which had become inevitable. Laws which had been just and wise so long as the citizens to be governed by them were virtuous and few, were made to subserve all evil purposes now that the citizens had become to the last degree unprincipled, and had grown to be almost innumerable. The province of government had been restricted to the narrowest limits, that good men might be secured against oppression. But the time had come in which bad men abused the liberty which good men had known how to use. Nowhere was it more needed than in Rome that the government should be strong ; but nowhere was a government of that nature more impracticable on the basis of existing law. Rome had become a den of desperate gamesters, and the winnings which the chances of the game were to distribute consisted of the plunder to be obtained from the world-wide provinces which the armies of the republic had subdued. Time was, when men in Rome cared about guarding the public honour, and augmenting the public virtue ; but the great care had 16 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. now come to be how to appropriate public functions, Chap" *' as means of access to the public wealth. ST1nSthe" -^° man knew Detter ^an Caesar that when a re- invasion of public has passed into such a state its days are num- Bntam. j,ered. It deserves to perish, and it will assuredly perish. It has lost the power of self-government, it needs a master, and it is the law of Providence in such cases that the master shall come. , But who was to be this presiding spirit? Caesar judged, and judged rightly, that he was himself more competent than any other man to seize that position, and to hold it. But it became him to move with caution. If he had no equal, he had competitors : these must be dealt with, and affairs must otherwise be ripened for the cata strophe. Caesar must add to his power by adding to his celebrity ; and he must weaken the government still more, by giving more strength to the factions which preyed upon it. It was this pohcy that had disposed him to extend the war in Gaul into Germany, and that suggested the importance of annexing Britain to the territories of the republic. Every such achieve ment was estimated according to its value as capital in the hands of skilful instruments in Rome. Caesar, accordingly, was not only careful to do great things, but careful also to secure that due reports should be made of them in all useful connexions by men at his service. His successes in his late campaign had been emblazoned among all parties in the capital by such means. His invasion of Britain — a land known in Rome more from fable than from history' — was an event which admitted still more of a colouring from the marvellous. For whether Britain was really an island, or part of another continent, was a ^question left to be determined by Agricola a century and a half later.* * Tacit. Vita Agric. § io. ' First under Agricola, and now under Severus it has been clearly proved to be an island.' — Dion Cassius, lib. xxxix. § 5 1. Xiphilin. lib. lxvi. § ao. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 17 We scarcely know how to conceive of the news- book i. vending of a great city in which there were no print- C"AF' a' ing-presses and no newspapers. But where there is Newwena-, little reading we may be sure there will be much Home. talking. In the absence of journalism men had their expedients for doing what is now done by that means. The baths of Rome were the clubs of those days, and the centres of every sort of association. Many of their departments were open to all comers, and were filled with idlers. Not only in such places, but with the crowds which foUowed some patrician to his home, or gathered at the corner of almost every street, in every, saloon, in- every supper-party, in every gathering of persons, from the highest to the lowest, the man with the latest news never failed of an eager welcome. As the plot thickened, the agents of Caesar became more numerous : they spread themselves into all public and private relations : and the final blow to the ex piring liberties of the commonwealth was struck by their hand. Such was the policy of Caesar when he resolved on the enterprise which has associated his name with the early history of Britain. Caesar had brought his campaign in Gaul to a close. Cesar's pre- o x o partitions. He had taught the Germans to respect the authority of Rome ; and, though the season was far advanced, he flattered himself that he might do something in Britain which would be favourable to the object of his ambition. From the country of the Morini, be-. tween Calais and Boulogne, he saw the white coast of the unexplored land — the great cape-land, as many supposed, of some new world. Merchants in constant intercourse with Britain were interrogated concerning the country and its inhabitants* - But the traders were more, disposed to befriend their customers than to further the projects of the military aspirant who pressed them with such questions. An officer was sent to explore the coast. But appearances were such that he did not venture to land. Meanwhile vessels were collected in great numbers from all parts. The I c 18 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. intention of the Roman general was no secret among Chap' *• the Gauls. Every sail, and every boat, that crossed the Channel gave new warning to the Britons. Con ferences took place in regard to the course best to be taken. Caesar relates that, as the result of these deli berations, a messenger was sent to him stating that the Britons were not indisposed to place themselves under Roman protection. But the representative authority of this messenger must have been very limited. The reception given to Caesar when attempt ing to land on the British shore, was not the reception to have been expected from a people prepared to sub mit without a struggle to the yoke of an invader. The em- The haven of Wissen, a httle to the south of Calais, and pas°-n is the point from which Caesar is supposed to have sage. embarked. The ships containing the infantry, besides galleys for the officers, were eighty in number. The cavalry had been left to embark at Boulogne, in vessels which had been detained at that place by un favourable winds. The shipping at Wissen, with their two legions of infantry, put to sea about ten at night, and made their appearance on the British coast about the same hour the next morning. The islanders had been vigilant. They were not taken by surprise. The high lands about Dover, and the green slopes descending to the sea, were covered with armed multitudes, mostly on foot, but many in war-chariots. Everywhere there was movement, and shouts from a great sea of voices, which promised no friendly greeting to the strangers. The land- To land on a steep shore in the face of such assail ants is felt to be impossible. The ships, accordingly, are seen moving along the coast northward, in search _ of a more convenient inlet. After sailing some seven or eight miles, they come to a level and. open space, . near where the town of Deal now -stands ; and there the prows ofthe vessels are turned towards the beach, and landing is to be attempted. But the natives have amoved upon the land side by side with the enemy ing, REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 19 upon the sea, and are prepared to meet him as before. Horsemen and footmen are there in great numbers. They rush down to the edge of the Waters. Many advance into the sea, challenging, the veterans to de scend from their ships. But the surf runs high, and the soldiers hesitate to commit themselves to such un certain, footing in the face of so bold an enemy. For some time fortune seems to be on the side of the Britons. The military resources at the command of the Romans appear to be exhausted. Something needed to be done to check the audacity of the barbarians, and to compel a portion of them at least to retire to a greater distance. For this purpose several of the lighter vessels are made to run upon the shore, and from their lofty prows, which serve the purpose of towers, archers and slingers do much execution upon the natives, thinning their numbers, and diminishing their ardour. Still the soldiers seem to distrust their abihty to reach the land — and it is becoming doubt ful whether the legions may not be compelled to leave the coast of Britain baffled, and virtually defeated. At this juncture a standard-bearer rushes into the water, and raising aloft the Roman eagle, calls on all who do not mean to see that symbol of the power of Rome pass into the hands of the enemy to follow him and protect it. Many soldiers now leap without orders from the ships, and forming themselves into ranks as they best can, they press quickly and steadily, with shield and sword, upon the Britons. The beach is soon cleared, soldiers hasten from all the ships to the land, and the discipline of the Romans prevails over the untaught daring opposed to them. The want of concert and unity, evils especially in- submission cident ito small and uncivilized communities, prevented and revolt" any rallying of the forces of the Britons after this dis comfiture. In a few days the nearest tribes consented to send hostages. But while negotiations were in progress, the second division of ships, with the cavalry, after appearing in sight, was suddenly dispersed by a c2 war-cha riot. 20 CELTS AND ROMANS. storm. The shipping, too, in which the infantry had crossed, was so injured by the foul weather, and by the influx of a high tide, for which the invaders, in their ignorance of the coast, were not prepared, as to leave the soldiers who had landed without the means of return, should disaster render such a course expe*. dient. In these altered circumstances the Britons withdrew secretly from the camp ; the people every- where removed their cattle and substance; and a vigorous attempt was made to ensure the departure of the enemy by leaving them without the means of subsistence. British Caesar found his foragers everywhere beset and in tercepted. They were safe . only »s protected by a considerable force. In these excursions the Romans felt the want of their cavalry, and the war-chariots of the natives greatly disconcerted them. These chariots had scythes fastened to the axle. The warriors who manned them threw themselves upon the ranks ofthe enemy, and added destruction with the spear and the sword to that inflicted by the scythe. Nothing could exceed their skill and courage in the management of these machines. They guided their horses with much dexterity, and leaped from the car to the ground, and from the ground to the car, with surprising rapidity. The commander of the chariot held the reins, and the one or more who rode with him did his biddings- much as we now see represented in the reliefs on the waUs of Thebes and Nineveh. But a few destructive onsets sufficed to put the Romans on their guard ; and as they never came to close fighting without being victors, the Britons soon became sensible that the in vaders ' had resources at command which they could not hope to overcome. The second Overtures for peace were renewed, and hostages promised. Caesar, though he had proved equal to the exigencies which had surrounded him, was not inseni sible to his danger. He listened gladly to the pro* posals made to him, and embarked at once for the submission. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD, 21 coast of Gaul, leaving the Britons to send the promised book i. hostages after him. CHAr' *' The best that could be made of the doubtful fortune ^fef which attended this enterprise was made of it in the reports sent to Rome. Fictions of all sorts were there clustered about it by those who expected to profit by such inventions. The Senate was convened to delibe rate on the tidings, and a festival of twenty days was decreed in honour of an event which had so signally enlarged the territories of the state, and which pro mised to raise even the rude people of Britain to a place among civilized nations. Of this event, says Dion Cassius, Caesar himself spoke in lofty terms, and the Romans at home entertained a wonderfully high opinion. But Caesar well knew that the work said to have been accomplished in Britain was still to be done. It was well that the most should be made of this first attempt. But if not followed by something more decisive, neither the fortunes of the general, nor the military reputation of the legions, would be found to have gained much by the experiment to which they had committed themselves. Before leaving Gaul for the winter, Caesar had as- second in- signed to his army its occupation during that interval, Embarkl- and had given special instruction that a larger number tion. and of transports and galleys than had been recently brought together should be placed at his service with out delay. On his return from Italy in the spring," he found that the different harbours between Ostend and Boulogne were prepared to supply him with more than six hundred vessels, besides twenty-eight galleys. These transports had been all built for the occasion, They were now launched, and concentrated on the point where the five legions destined for this second invasion of Britain had been assembled. But during the first five-and-twenty days the wind continued to blow from the north. Towards sunset on the first day of favourable weather this multitude of vessels 22 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. put to sea, darkening its surface for some miles in chapj*. brea(ith and distance, as they floated off towards, Britain. On the break of day they found themselves drifted by the tide, and by a westerly wind, consider ably beyond their intended point of landing. By the return of the tide, however, and the help of their oars, they appear to have retraced their way to the entrance of Sandwich haven, beyond the mouth of the Stour, the spot now known as Pegwell Bay. The Britons were not ignorant of the preparations which were being made during the winter in the har bours along the coast of Gaul, and knew the force with ' which the enemy was about to descend upon their shores. Of the hostages for which Caesar had stipu lated, a few only had been sent ; and this failure was alleged as a sufficient reason for a second expedition. To hazard a general engagement with such an army was felt by the Britons to be dangerous. In this instance, accordingly, no attempt was made to resist the landing. But the natives had assembled in great numbers, and were prepared to watch the movements of the enemy, and to avail themselves of every possible advantage against him. Caesar's mi- Caesar learnt that the Britons had taken their posi- ratSn2pe" tion on the shore of a small river — probably the. Stour, about twelve miles distant. Having made provision for the safety of his ships, and left a guard of ten cohorts and three hundred horse in charge of them, he put his army in motion, under cover of the night, aind by daybreak came upon the Britons on the ground they had chosen. The natives withdrew to a retreat near at hand, which, in the times of their wars with each other, had been fortified by a dyke and mound, and further strengthened by a stockade. Caesar conducted his assault on this place with much caution ; but the Britons had guarded against being surrounded, and after keeping the enemy in check for some time, they retired, without material injury, to wards the interior. Caesar prepared to move in the REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 23 same direction. But a messenger now came with tidings book r. that a storm had separated the ships from their anchors, ."^ *' and dashed them against each other, many of them being stranded and wrecked, so as to have become useless. Caesar commanded the soldiers to fortify their camp, and returned himself under a strong escort to the shore. The loss, however, did not prove to be so serious as reported. Forty transports were abandoned as worthless, but the remainder were put under repair. Every man who had followed the trade of a carpenter was taken from the ranks to be employed in this service. Workmen were also brought over from Gaul. During the next ten days and nights, the sounds along the shore near Pegwell Bay were those of a busy dockyard. The -damages being by that time repaired, Caesar, to prevent a recurrence of such mischief, gave orders that the vessels should be drawn up on shore, and that the force left to protect them should strengthen its position by raising an entrench ment on the land side of their encampment. . The news of this disaster had given new courage to the Cassive- Britons. Hostilities with each other, in which they were Iamm8" engaged even at the moment of Caesar's appearance among them, were now suspended, and the belligerents agreed to act together against the common enemy. The command of this combined force was given to a chief known to us by the name of Cassivelaunus, who ruled a people occupying a . district of Middlesex bordering upon the Thames. His fighting men con sisted of a large body of footmen, besides horsemen and charioteers.- Cassivelaunus possessed a consider able advantage in his knowledge of the woods and marshes, and of the concealed pathways of the country. He hovered on the march of the Romans, galled them from ambuscades and thickets, and assailed them vigorously with his horsemen and chariots, often on ground where attacks by such means were not to have. been expected. But one enterprise of this nature brought him into collision with a large body o£ 24 CELTS AND ROMANS, book i. cavalry on forage, and with a complete legion of in- Chap' *' fantry following to sustain it. In this encounter the slaughter of the Britons was so great that no second assault on that scale was attempted. This advantage gained, Caesar ventured further into the country. He appears to have crossed the Medway near Maidstone, and the Thames at a place called Coway Stakes, near Chertsey — a spot where the old river still curves its way beautifully, while on the level land the rude forest has given place to the rich meadow and the cottage homestead. At this point, where alone the river was fordable, the natives had driven stakes in the water, and had lined the bank on the opposite side with a stockade. The cavalry entered the river first, the infantry followed close upon them, and could with difficulty keep their chins above the water in their passage. But both divisions succeeded in making their way to the opposite bank, and the natives were soon forced from their defences. The war from this time was one of devastation, each party striving to cut off all means of subsistence from the other. Caesar restored a king whom the Trino- bantes, a people inhabiting a part of Essex and Suf folk, had deposed. Five other communities, with their chiefs, made their submission. As a last expedient, Cassivelaunus urged the people of Kent to attack the cohorts which Caesar had left on the coast, and to endeavour .to destroy his ships. But the assault, though made with promptitude and vigour, was not JubmSn successful. The next event was the submission of —departure Cassivelaunus himself: and Csesar, who had consumed of Cajsar. . ...... , ¦. much more time m this enterprise than comported with his plans, readily accepted the promise of tribute from the different peoples belonging to the strip of territory he had visited, and taking with him hostages . for the payment, he returned to Gaul. His chief spoil from this expedition was a large number of captives.* • * Of the importance attaehed to this alleged conquest of Britain by Cresar and the KomanS, we may judge from the following passages in REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 25 Our knowledge of what Caesar did in Britain comes book i, mainly from his own pen. He has not, perhaps, ex- ^fi_1, aggerated his own losses. In one view, his policy Slw,8°tea- would not dispose him to underrate the country he timony— had invaded, or the people whom he had been at so British er" much pains to subdue. On the other hand, it must re8istanoe- be remembered that he did not accomplish the work to which he had committed himself, and he may have been willing that the region should be judged as not worthy of greater effort. His account of Cassivelaunus places that chief before us as a man whose genius had raised him above his contemporaries. But the jealousy with which his power was regarded by his neighbours was fatal to the unity which could alone have made resistance successful. Even the Roman yoke would seem to have been preferred by some to the undue ascendency of this native prince. They were brave men, however — not a few of these old Britons ; mag nanimous and unselfish men, in their way, prepared to hazard every possible loss, rather than lose their rude sense of independence and freedom. It was this feeling in the past which had made Rome great. But such feeling was now almost wholly of the past. The lawless ness of the repubhc was about to give place to the order of a military despotism : and during the next hundred years Rome is so much occupied in a struggle to conserve weighty interests nearer home, as to be little inclined to engage in an enterprise so costly as would be necessary to ensure the conquest of Britain. Augustus, indeed, threatened something of this nature more than once. The tribute imposed by Caesar was Dion Cassius,: ' To what purpose (said Caesar) have I so long possessed the proconsular power, if I am to be enslaved to any of you, or vanquished by any of you here in Italy, and close to Rome — I, by whom you have subdued the Gauls and conquered the Britons ' (lib. xii. § 34). ' But here, within these walls, he (Csesar), perished by conspiracy, who had led an army even into Britain in security' {ibid. § 49), ' To be trodden underfoot (said Augustus) by an Egyptian woman would be unworthy of us, we who have vanquished the Gauls — and passed over to Britain' (lib. 4. § W)- 26 ' CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. rarely paid, and his successor was wise in not attempt- HAJ" .*' ing to enforce the payment. Augustus contented himself with levying a tax on British goods imported into Gaul and into the Rhine provinces. Tiberius followed the example of his predecessor in this respect, and the joint reign of these two princes extended to nearly eighty years.* Britain8 °f During the century which followed the departure of during the Caesar from the shores of Britain, the country appears turjr. to have made considerable advances. Commercial cities had grown up and become flourishing along the whole coast from . Friesland to the Rhine, especially along the banks of that great river. It is evident that the Britons had become considerable traders in ah those quarters. The site of modern London was passed and repassed by Caesar, but -nothing existed there at that time to attract his attention. He does not name it. A hundred years later, Londinum had not only come into existence, but had become a place of great traffic. The people resident there, were partly foreigners, who had settled there for the purposes of trade, and partly natives who were disposed to occupy themselves in industrious callings. The most power ful prince at that time in Britain was Cunobeline, the successor of Cassivelaunus as king of the Trinobantes. Camulodunum, his capital, stood on the ground where Colchester has since stood. Coins were struck there in his name, with Latin inscriptions, which bespeak considerable progress in art and trade, and a free intercourse, not only with Gaul, but with countries more remote. Camulodunum was only one among many cities which, with their adjacent towns and villages, covered the large territory subject to the sway of Cunobeline. In these later times the curious and the idle in Rome were often gratified by seeing distinguished persons of both sexes among them from this island. In the popular literature of Rome men- * Tacitus, Agric. § xiii. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 27 tion is often made of Britain, and the mention is of a book i. kind to show that the Britons of the time of Claudius °f^l_? ' must have been a very different people from those described by Caesar. There is, indeed, room to suspect, that as Caesatr could not conquer Britain, he had his reasons for conveying the impression that it was not really worth conquering. However this may have been, the Britain which did ultimately submit to the authority of Rome was certainly a country of con siderable industry and wealth. If the Britons of Caesar's time were wont to delight in human sacrifices, to paint or stain their bodies in barbarous fashion, and to have the wives of a family in common, nothing of this would seem to apply to the Britons described by Tacitus and Dion Cassius. This is a fact of im portance in relation to our early history, and should be marked by the student. In the time of Caligula, who succeeded his uncle b,^™*^ Tiberius, Cunobeline banished his son Adminius. The to Rome for exile threw himself at the feet of the emperor, andre" affected to surrender the British territory to Roman pro tection. Caligula announced the event to the Senate and to the people as an affair of great moment, and gave orders that an army of two hundred thousand men should be at once assembled on the coast of Gaul. The army was brought together. In its presence the royal galley was rowed off with much ceremony into the sea. The emperor then returned to the land, ascended a lofty throne, and amidst the sound of trumpets gave signal to his soldiers as if for an engagement. But caiiguia-s when the legions inquired for the enemy, they were exPedition- told that they had witnessed the conquest of the ocean, and that they were to . disperse and gather shells on the beach as in token of their triumph! Such are the men who come to be masters over armies and nations when armies and nations come to deserve no better. The sycophant Senate decreed to this man the honours of a triumph. This was in a.d. 40.* * Suetonius, Calig. "46, 47. Dion Cass. lix. § 2$. 28. CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. "We hear no more of Adminius. But three years1 — —' later a British prince named Beric solicited help from the Emperor Claudius against his competitors for power in this country. It thus seems to have grown into a usage for aggrieved parties in Britain to make their appeal to Rome ; and it was in vain, it seems, that the Britons demanded that such malcontents should be delivered up to them. The emperor did not want a pretext for the invasion of Britain. The non-payment of the tribute was a sufficient plea. Claudius remembered that Caesar's invasion of Britain, futile as it was, had contributed not a little to his fame ; and he hoped that he might accomplish what invasion that great commander had only attempted. But under Plau- . , ° „.. i /» i • i i • tiusand Aulus Plautius, a general ol high reputation, was ciaudms. cj10geil t0 collect the necessary forces, and to com mence the war. The general found his legions strongly opposed to the enterprise. They spoke of the treachery of the British coast, and of the difficulties that would arise from the nature of the country, and the mode of warfare pursued by the people, They became, in fact, mutinous. But the emperor in^ sisted on obedience, and after a while they returned to their duty. The force embarked consisted of four legions, about twenty-five thousand men, besides a complement of auxiliaries, probably not less numerous. The adverse weather which the armament encountered was very much what the veterans had predicted. But the ships had been separated into three divisions, as a precaution against local disasters ; and after some delay landing was effected by them all without resistance, apparently at Richborough, Lymne, and Dover. The Britons had heard of the mutinous spirit among the soldiers, and had been willing to believe that the project would be abandoned. But this false confi dence was soon at an end. The duty of resistance rested mainly with the Tri- nobantes, who were in the first rank among the Britons of the south. Cunobeline, the king of that REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 29 people, deputed the command to his sons Caractacus book i. and Togodumnus. The Britons knew the disadvantage °"AF" .*' that would attend them in an open encounter with such an enemy. They contrived to annoy the invaders from the skirts of the forest and the marsh, and from the banks of rivers. In this kind of warfare the general found his auxiliaries more available than his legions. To the astonishment of the natives, the Batavian horse swam across a broad river and attacked them on the opposite bank. This river we suppose was the Thames. If not the Thames, it must have been the Severn, and our knowledge on this subject, limited as it is, forbids our supposing that Plautius had penetrated so far. In one of these river conflicts, Togodumnus, the British leader, was slain. On most occasions the advantage seems to have been with the Romans. But though much danger had been braved, nothing decisive had been done. It was in this cam paign that Vespasian, the emperor of a later day, gave the first proof of his high military genius. In his pursuit of the enemy he was one day so hemmed in that his escape seemed to be impossible. But his son Titus, who saw his danger, rushed upon his assailants with such ardour that they fell in all direc tions, and his father was saved.* Plautius no doubt knew that to acquire distinction in this war, whether deservedly or not, would be grateful to the emperor. He was to apprise his sovereign if the posture of affairs should be such as to .require his presence; and his presence was hardly solicited before he was on his way towards the army encamped near the Thames. The camp was impatieht for his arrival. It was a new thing for the legions to have an emperor at their head, not merely on parade, but in a real war. All were intent on some achieve ment worthy of the occasion. Camulodunum itself * Dion Cass. lib. lx. § 30. Suetonius, Claud, xvi.-xxiv. Tacitus, Agric. xiii. 30 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. was the first point of attack. That city consisted of Chaf" *' a large enclosure, including, beside the residence of the chief, many of the houses and huts of his people, with space used for the shelter of flocks and herds in time of danger. The Trinobantes faced the enemy in front of their capital. But the issue was against them. Claudius was hailed as 'imperator' by the army several times in the space of sixteen days, which seems to say that it cost more than one struggle, to accomplish the fall of so powerful a section of the British people. But the subjection was complete. Claudius returned to Rome. The Senate not only decreed him a triumph, but gave him the name of Britannicus, provided that the name should pass from the father to the son, instituted annual games in com memoration of the event, and reared triumphal arches in Rome and in Gaul.* Claudius, 'on leaving Britain, assigned the territory north of the Thames to the care of Plautius, and that on the south side of the. river to Vespasian. But Britain was not yet conquered. The natives were still for the greater part in arms. Caractacus was not among those who had made submission. He ceased not to harass the detachments under Plautius. What ever loss he sustained seemed to be speedily repaired, and the courage of himself and of his followers re mained unbroken. During the five years that Plautius held command in Britain Caractacus pursued this course towards him without intermission. In the south Vespasian kept his footing, but with difficulty, and at the cost of fighting more than thirty battles. piantius ' In a.d. so, Publius Ostorius was appointed governor 8UCC6GQGQ *¦ *¦ " by ostorius. of Britain. He found the country in a very unsettled state. The winter season was approaching. The new general having a new army to command, the Britons presumed that he was not hkely to commence operations before the spring. Filled with this idea) * Dion Cass. lib. lx. § 23. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 31 they began ravaging the different parts of the island book r. that had submitted to the Roman yoke. Ostorius Chap- *• saw that the enemy must be at once made sensible that they had a man of promptitude and vigour to deal with. He summoned his cohorts, and marched rapidly from place to place. The Britons were gene rally taken by surprise, and cut to pieces or dispersed. To secure the advantages thus gained, a chain of forts was raised along the banks of the Avon, and on the Gloucestershire side of the Severn. It was hoped that the malcontent feeling among the Britons would be shut up by this means within the space beyond those rivers. But the Icenians, whose country embraced a great Defeat part of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridgeshire, and Hunt'- J^ns. ingdonshire, and who had not hitherto committed themselves against the Romans, now took up arms on the side of their country. Some adjacent states joined them, and an undue estimate of their strength, so com mon with uncivilized men, disposed them to chal lenge a decisive action. The spot chosen by them was enclosed by a high embankment of earth, leaving only one point as an entrance from the level ground. This seemed to render the Roman cavalry useless. But Ostorius ordered the men to dismount, and to join with the infantry in storming the place. The assault was successful. The Britons, shut in by their own fortifications, and pressed from many points, were thrown into disorder. But their courage did not fail them. ' They fought to the last,' says Tacitus, ' and gave signal proofs of heroic bravery.' From the country of the Icenians Ostorius marched against the disaffected in Cheshire and Lancashire. But Cheshire and Lancashire were very rude and thinly peopled districts in those days. The Britons in those parts avoided any general engagement. While overrunning those quarters, news came that, the Brigantes, on the other side of the Yorkshire hills, were in arms. Scarcely had tranquillity been restored 32 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. in that direction, when it was reported that the Silures .HAT' .*• had again taken the field. caraotacua rj^ gilles besides being the bravest, and the most ana the ' i • t i» p silures. skilled in their own kind ot warfare, among the Britons, were filled with confidence at this juncture by the presence of Caractacus — a chief whose valour and enterprise had made his name familiar to the whole island. No man better knew the country, and no man could better avail himself of its advantages against an enemy. Having drawn to his standard from his own territory, and from other parts, all who were most disposed to look on submission to Rome as servitude, he resolved to place his fortune on the issue of a battle. The spot chosen by him is supposed to have been near the hill called Caer-Caradoc, in Shrop shire, where the waters of the dune and the Tame join. The slopes descending from this position were rough and steep, and it was protected in other parts by a rampart formed of huge stones, while the land below was bordered by a river, not formidable, but in places of uncertain footing. Between the moun tain fortress and the river, Caractacus disposed his warriors in the order of battle. The chiefs were seen busy in marshalling their followers. All did what they could to banish the idea of fear, and to sti mulate their men to the utmost. Caractacus himself was in every part of the field, and his brave words, as he flew from rank to rank, called forth shouts of applause. All bound themselves by a solemn oath to prefer death to slavery. The sight was not a httle menacing. ' Ostorius looked at it with misgiving. First he saw a river to be forded ; then a stockade to be forced ; then a steep and craggy hill-side to be surmounted'; and last, a succession of rude forts to be taken, which the fierce multitude before him were prepared to defend to the utmost. But the Roman soldiers did not share. in the manifest hesitancy of their general — they showed themselves impatient for the onset. Valour, can do all things, was their cry, and the officers joined REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 33 in the cry of their men. Let it so be was the answer book i. of Ostorius. The general looked carefully to the 0nAP! *' ground, and having marked the weaker points of the °efea' of ii • i p i .,-, rra • Caraotacus. enemy, gave the signal for battle. The river was soon crossed, and the Romans made their way to the parapet. But there the missive weapons of the natives fell like hail upon their assailants, and the ad vantage was with the Britons. Checked thus formid ably, Ostorius ordered his men to advance under a military shell — a sort of roofing over their persons formed by conjoining their shields. Under this cover ing they once more approached the parapet, and suc ceeded in levelling the loose and massive stones which had served the Britons as an elevated breastwork. The Britons retreated in some disorder to the summit of the hill j -the Romans pressed eagerly upon them under a destructive shower of darts. In the hand-to- hand struggle which ensued, matters were not equal. No helmet covered the head of the Briton, no coat of mail protected his breast. The swords and javelins of the legions, and the sabres and spears of the auxi liaries proved irresistible. The slaughter which fol lowed was great, and the issue was decisive. Among the captives were the brother, the daughter, and the wife of Caractacus. The battle of Caer-Caradoc was to the Britons what the battle of Hastings became to the Anglo-Saxons. . If there was a difference, it consisted mainly in the fact that the struggle of the Britons in defence of their freedom before that day, and their efforts to recover it when really lost, were greater than will be found in the corresponding period of Anglo- Saxon history. But the cause of this difference should perhaps be sought, not so much in the greater courage of the Briton, as in the better power of cal culation possessed by the Saxon. ' Caractacus/ says Tacitus, ' fled for protection to His en-. ' Cartismandua, queen of the Brigantes. But adver- Rome. ' sity has no friends. By that princess he was loaded ' with irons, and delivered up to the conqueror. He I D * 34 CELTS AND ROMANS. BOOK I. Chap. z. had waged war with the Romans during the last nine ytears. His fame was not confined to his native island: it passed into the provinces and spread all over Italy. Curiosity was eager to behold the heroic chieftain who for such a length of time made head against a great and powerful empire. Even at Rome the name of Caractacus was in high celebrity. The emperor, willing to magnify the glory of the conquest, bestowed the highest praise on the valour of the vanquished king. He assembled the people to behold a spectacle worthy of their view. In the field before the camp the prae torian bands were drawn up under arms. The followers of the British chief walked in procession. The mili tary accoutrements, the harness and rich collars, which he had gained in various battles, were displayed with pomp. The wife of Caractacus, his daughter, and his brother followed next ; he himself closed the melan choly train. The rest of the prisoners, struck with terror, descended' to mean and abject supplications. Caractacus alone was superior to misfortune ! With a countenance stdl unaltered, not a symptom of fear appearing, no sorrow, no condescension, he behaved with dignity even in ruin.' We all remember the interest with which we have read this passage of history in our early years, the sympathy with which we have listened to the fitting and noble sentiments which the captive prince has been made to utter on that occasion, and the delight with which we have seen the chains of the captives struck off, and heard the gracious words with which both the emperor and the empress pronounced them free.* On the following morning the Senate described the victory over Caractacus as not inferior in importance to the great events in the past days of Roman history — as when Syphax was led in chains through -the city * It is probable that in the quiet and prosperous times before the in vasion under Claudius, Caractacus was nnder the care of Eoman teachers. No prince in Gaul would have been without that ad-vantage. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 35 by Publius Scipio, when Pertinax appeared among book i. them as the captive of Lucius Paulus, and when kings CBAP' *• and princes were seen by the Roman people at the chariot wheels of other commanders.* But even the fate of Caractacus did not extinguish The Britons the hopes of the Silures. They fell incessantly upon dued" all stragglers and small detachments of the enemy. In one instance two whole cohorts were cut off and de stroyed by them. Other tribes, encouraged by their successes, joined them in this kind of warfare. Osto rius had so much experience of this nature that he learnt to describe the Silures as a people who would never be conquered — their extirpation only, he said, could bring peace to the Roman settlement in Britain. In the midst bf these hostihties Ostorius died. The Britons looked, on the event as more important to them than a great victory. Before the arrival of his successor, a chief named Venusius, then at the head of the countrymen of ' Caractacus, defeated a whole legion under the command of Manhus Valens. Avi tus Didius Gallus was the officer sent in the place of Ostorius. Didius restored the confidence of the army by a severe defeat of the Britons. But Didius was an old man, not equal to the vigorous prosecution of such a war. The conduct of it was left in consequence, for the most part, to subordinate officers. One of these, however, gained a victory over a considerable army of Britons. In a.d. 58 Didius was . succeeded by Veranius, who made successful incursions into the territories of the disaffected, but died within a year after his arrival. The chief command in Britain then S[(etonius. passed to the hands of Caius Suetonius Pauhnus, one of the ablest generals in the service of the empire. Suetonius was a man of great ambition, bent on being not less distinguished than the greatest commander of -his time; and Britain was the field in which this dream of eminence was to be realized, f * Tacitus, Ann. xii. 32-38. Agric. xiv. t Ibid. xii. 40 ; xiv. 29. Hist. iii. 45. D 2 36 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. Venusius, who had defeated the Roman legion under Chap' *" Manlius, had married Cartismandua, the queen of the Brigantes, the woman who had betrayed Caractaoiis. The disaffection called forth among the subjects of Cartismandua by her treachery, and some other causes, led to a civil war, in which the party adhering to the queen sought the protection of the Romans; while Venusius, her husband, who had been her armour- bearer, and whom she had married since she became queen, called upon her to surrender her sovereignty to him, and placed, himself at the head of the Britons who were in arms against the invaders. Since the defeat of Caractacus, Venusius was the most able commander among the natives. slaughter Suetonius was aware that rehgion, hardly less than Dmids. patriotism, contributed to keep ' alive the disaffection of the Britons. In their transactions with the Gauls the Romans had learnt to regard the Druids with dis trust and aversion. The doctrine of the immortality of the soul, so firmly avowed by those ministers of religion, and received with so much confidence from their lips by their people, was an offence to the Roman, who was pleased to regard his own scepticism on all subjects of that nature as a result to be expected from civilized modes of thought. In this Druid teaching, the natural in man gave the lie to the artificial, and the artificial could hardly fail to be displeased. This presumption of barbarism, moreover, was a presump tion of which a potent use was made. The hold upon the future which this doctrine gave to the Druid made him master of the present. By filling the mind of the people with false hopes from this source, he could at pleasure stimulate them to insurrection, and, to the most daring enterprises. Thus the Druids were politically formidable; and to prepare the way for their extermination, the most atrocious things were* laid to their charge. Historians, orators, and poets contrasted the dark forests of the priests of Gaul and Britain with the sylvan scenes which had been sacred REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 37 to religion in Greece and Italy ; and to the gay cere- book i. monies and the festive pleasures of their own worship, CnAP' *' they opposed the Druid priests slaying human victims, lustrating the trees of the forest with human gore, and calling up every horror that might scare the ima gination, and make the worshippers their victims. In reading such descriptions it becomes us to remember that it had been ruled that the Druids should be dis posed of, and it had become expedient to give the bad name as preliminary to that proceeding. Even Au-' gustus infringed his general law of tolerance by for bidding any observance of the Druidical rites in Rome. Tiberius went further, and Claudius not only decreed the extinction of those rites even in Gaul, but acted on that decree with much rigour. In Britain, the island of Mona, now Anglesea, was known to be the stronghold of the Druids, and Suetonius resolved to assail them in that retreat. Ostorius had carried the Roman eagles far in that direction. There were British roads along which infantry and cavalry might march even to such dis tances, without difficulty; but the baggage and pro vision departments would remain to tasKthe patience and ingenuity of a commander. The approach of Suetonius to the Menai Strait would probably be from Chester. On reaching its bank, the general issued orders that flat-bottomed boats should be pre pared to convey the infantry across. The cavalry were to endeavour to ford, and if that should be found im practicable, the men were to take their place in the boats, and to draw their horses through the water after them. We shall allow Tacitus to describe the scene which presented itself as the Roman soldiers approached the opposite shore, and what followed when a landing was secured. ' The shore of the ' island was lined with the hostile army, in which were ' women dressed in dark and dismal garments, with * their hair streaming to the wind, bearing torches in ' their hands, and running like furies up and down the 38' CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. ' ranks. Around stood the Druids, with hands spread HAP" z' ' to heaven, and uttering dreadful prayers and impreca- ' tions. The novelty of the sight struck our soldiers ' with dismay, so that they stood as if petrified — a mark 'for the enemy's javelins.' At length, animated by ' their general, and encouraging one another not to fear ' an army of women and fanatics, they rushed upon the ' enemy, bore down all before them, and involved them! ' in their own fires. The troops ofthe enemy were com- ' pletely defeated, a garrison placed in the island, and ,' the groves which had been the consecrated scenes of ' the most barbarous superstitions were levelled to the 'ground.'* Such were the sights to be seen some eighteen centuries since, on a spot where modern science has erected some of its most wonderful tro phies. The Menai Strait is at present almost a fairy land, so rich is it both from art and from nature. Coupled with the surrounding scenery, and seen under the sunlight of a summer evening, it is one of the most beautiful scenes in Europe, hardly exceeded in loveliness by the shores of Greece or the passage of the Bosphorus. oppressive While the severe policy of Suetonius, so character- Romans, istic of the military history of ancient Rome, was pro ducing its natural effect on the mind of the-Britons, another feature of the Roman ascendency, was calling forth the effects no less natural to it elsewhere. The destructiveness of the Roman sword was not more notorious than the rapacity of Roman officials. The writings of Roman authors teem with evidence on this subject. In the times now under review, the solicitude of nearly all educated men in Rome was to secure some government appointment, and having obtained it, to use every available expedient to make it as productive as possible, and in as short a time as possible. The descriptions of the extortion, fraud, and violence resorted to by this class of men, are often * Tacit. Ann. xiv. 30. Agric. xiv. REVOtUTION BY THE SWORD. 39 so revolting as to seem almost incredible. Of wrongs book i. in this form a full share fell to the lot of the sub- HAP' ?' jugated Britons. Nero was now upon the throne, and the season was one of more than ordinary licence among the imperial officers in the provinces.* Prasutagus, who ruled over the Iceni, had long insurrec- been the ally of Rome. He was known to be a man Boad^? of some wealth ; and in the hope of securing at least the half of it to his family, he left it to be divided equally between his daughters and the emperor. But Catus, the procurator, seized the whole, and the mili tary at the same time took possession of the country. Boadicea, the widow of Prasutagus, protested against these proceedings. To punish her presumption, she was scourged in the manner of a slave; and her daughters were taken from her by the officers and dishonoured. If such a course could be taken towards such persons, we may imagine what the grievances were which often fell on parties in inferior conditions. In fact, it is easy to beheve that the language of the Britons at this juncture was such as Tacitus has attributed to them. Our sons, they said, are torn from us, and made to serve in the Roman armies, as if it became them to be prepared to die for anything rather than for their country. Our houses are .entered at all hours by mean and licentious officials, who rob us according to their pleasure. The head of the military plays the tyrant over our persons, and the head of the government plays the spoliator in regard to our substance ; and between them they make life not worth possessing, if to be possessed only under such conditions. The rich and the poor are fast descending to one level, and the strong are made to submit to every sort of humiliation from the hands of the weak. Our forefathers resisted Caesar, and the enemy was taught to respect our coast for a hundred years to come. To be as free as our fathers, we have * Tacitus, Ann. lib. xiv.' the Ro mans 40 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. only to be as resolved and as brave.* That the Britons Chap- *' thought and felt in this manner we can readily believe, whatever doubt we may have of their ability to express themselves exactly in such terms. Massacre of While Suetonius was engaged in his expedition against Mona, discourse to this effect became general and loud among the natives; and the treatment of Boadicea and her daughters sufficed to raise the embers of disaffection, everywhere existing, into a flame. The Britons assembled in vast multitudes. Every day added to their numbers. Their first onset was at Camulodunum. In that settlement, for some weeks before, strange sights, and unnatural voices, at the dead of night', had seemed to betoken the approach of some great calamity. When the outbreak began, the Britons reduced everything in Camulodunum to ashes, putting the garrison, and every stranger, to the sword. The ninth legion marched in the direction of that colony in the hope of being in time to save the garrison. But they were met by the insurgents, sur rounded, and the whole of the infantry destroyed. Petilius, the commander, and a portion of the cavalry, were all that could escape. Catus Decianus, the obnoxious procurator, with the courage generally found in such men, hurried to the coast, and sought refuge in Gaul, Suetonius, on receiving tidings of these events, pre pared to move southward. He had achieved a diffi cult enterprise, but he had now to retrace his steps, and to find himself beset with new dangers. He found the country everywhere in the hands of the insurgents. In the language of Tacitus — ' He ' marched through the midst of the enemy to Lon- ' dinum [London], which was not yet honoured with ' the name of a colony, but considerable from the resort ' of merchants and from its trade. Here, hesitating * whether he should make that town the seat of war, he * Tacitus, Ann. lib. xiv. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 41 ' considered how weak the garrison was, and, warned by book r. ' the check which Petihus had incurred by his rash- C"AP' l' ' ness, he determined to preserve the whole by sacri- ' ficing one town. Nor did the tears and lamentations ' of the people imploring his assistance, prevent him ' from giving the signal for marching, though he re- ' ceived into his army all who were disposed to follow c him. But all those whom the weakness of sex, or the ' infirmities of age, or attachment to the place, induced ' to stay behind, fell into the hands ofthe enemy. The ' same calamity befel the municipal town of Veru- ' lam.'* The historian adds, that seventy thousand citizens and allies were said to have perished in those places. We are disposed to think, however, that the number of the slain has been greatly exaggerated. It is not probable that the population left in such cir cumstances, in the town of Verulam, and in a place ' not yet honoured with the name of a colony,' could have amounted to seventy thousand. But that the destruction was terrific in extent, and meant so to be, may be readily beheved. Everything rested now with the skill and firmness of Suetonius. Such was the fear which had been dif fused by these disasters, that the second legion hesi tated to join his standard. By collecting contributions of men from every garrison, he succeeded in raising his army to ten thousand, including cavalry. With this force he determined to give battle to the multi tude which had obeyed the call of Boadicea. The spot chosen by him gave him a dense forest in the rear, and an open plain in front. The legionaries were marshalled in a succession of deep ranks. The light-armed troops were disposed around in companies. The flanks were covered with the cavalry. The Bri tons were seen bounding from place to place in com panies and groups. So flushed were they with their successes, and so confident of victory, that they had * Ann. lib. xiv. §§ xxix. xxx. 42 CELTS AND ROMANS. brought their women with them in waggons, to be" the witnesses of their achievements. The Roman his torians describe Boadicea as a woman above the ordinary stature, with a countenance expressive of lofty and resolute purposes. They speak, as we have seen, of her yellow hair descending to her waist ; of her richly' coloured dress, and her ornaments of gold. So attired . she rode, with her daughters, in her war-chariot, from rank to rank, addressing patriotic sentiments toone tribe' after another, on the eve of the battle. The drift of her appeal is said to have been, that she thought little of her descent from noble ancestors, or of her position as one possessed of sovereignty and wealth. She was before them as one of themselves, and as such was pre pared to brave the worst in the cause of their common liberty. She was bent, also, on avenging the indig nities that had been inflicted on her person, and the dishonour that had been done to her children. Proof enough had been given that 'no right or feeling of humanity could be safe where Rome should be ascen dant. Death itself was to be coveted if compared with life under such a rule. But the gods, who had borne long with this wickedness, would bear with it no longer. Hitherto their enemies had fallen before them, or fled to their hiding-places. It was only need ful they should be brave as heretofore, and the fate of the second legion would be that of the army now in their view. Their shouts, their numbers, and their" courage would do all. But come what may, should the men consent to live and to be slaves, as for herself, a woman, her resolve was to be victorious or perish. . Suetonius, we may be sure, needed no one to remind him that a day had come which would cover him with dishonour, or do much to gratify his long-cherished thirst of military renown. We can imagine him,, as he passes on his war-horse from rank to rank, and as he glances, with closed lip and darkened brow, on the vast but ill-directed multitude spread out before him. It was natural he should speak on that day as Tacitus REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 43 tells us he spoke — that he should express his scorn of book r. the savage hordes which had dared to face the legions CHAP' "*' of Rome ; and that he should aim to stimulate the courage of his men, by setting forth the shame and disaster that must be attendant on defeat, and the certainty that their discipline must more than suffice to counterbalance any want of numbers, should they only acquit themselves with their wonted fidelity and fearlessness. When the strife began, the legionaries Defeat and received the first onset of the Britons in silence, but thTlruons. retained their lines unbroken. They then formed themselves into a wedge-shape, and marched steadily onward ; the auxiliaries ranged themselves after the same manner ; and the cavalry bore down upon the enemy with their spears levelled, everywhere clearing their way before them. The first charge, however, did not decide the fortunes of that dreadful day. The Britons rallied once and again. The legionaries were in danger of being exhausted ; but the issue was in their favour. The natives, once thoroughly disordered, the waggons served to impede their flight, and the destruction which followed was horrible. Men, women, children, the very beasts which drew the car riages of the Britons, all perished under the weapons of an enraged soldiery. Eighty thousand natives are said to have fallen on that day ; and it should be re membered that those who give us these numbers had the means, not only of estimating their own work, but of giving it a permanent record. Boadicea was faithful to her vow — she sought death by poison, rather than fall into the hands of such an enemy.* The natural sequence to this' field of blood would tchhea^e^n have been a reign of terror, even more terrible than policy. any that had preceded. But the imperial government saw with alarm the dangers to which its legions, and its entire authority in Britain, had been exposed, and * Tacit. Ann. xiv. 31-39. Vita Agric. xv. xvi. Xiphilin. ex Dions in Neron. 44 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. became concerned that a more just and lenient spirit chap^j. gjy^Qjj j^ ^^ged int0 the administration for the time to come. Suetonius, to whom such a pohcy could not be acceptable, was ere long recalled. Tarpilianus, Trebellius, and Bolanus, who became successively governors, sought peace rather than conquest. Eight years from the defeat of Boadicea thus passed. But by this time the affairs of the empire had become more settled. Vespasian, who had served in Britain, had become emperor, and during the eight years that foUowed, war was carried on with vigour against the Brigantes and the Silures. Petilius Cereahs, a man of the highest military reputation, conducted this war; and he was succeeded in command by Juhus Frontinus, who so acquitted himself as not to suffer in comparison with such a predecessor. After five yeats of hostility the Brigantes were made to pro fess themselves the allies of Rome; and three years later, the war against the Silures was pushed with such vigour into the retreats and fastnesses of their country, that their strength was finally broken, and fear of serious annoyance in the future from that quarter came to an end.* Govern- These events prepared the way for the adminis- ™ue3n^°riJu" tration of Cneius Juhus Agricola, whose name has coia. been made so familiar to later generations by the pen of Tacitus, his son-in-law. Agricola, in common with Vespasian, had seen considerable service in Britain. On his arrival, the Ordovices, one of the most warhke of the British tribes, had surprised a detachment of cavalry, and utterly destroyed them. Agricola summoned the army from its winter quarters, and resuming the old pohcy of governing by terror j he all but annihilated the offending nation. In the fourth year of his administration Agricola had extended his conquests so far northward, that to * Tacit. Ann. xiv. 37-39. Vit. Agric. viii. xvi. xvii. Hist. i. 9- 60 ; ii. 97. REVOLUTION Br THE SWORD. 45 form a boundary of the Roman province in that book i. direction, he constructed a chain of forts from the C"AP' *' mouth of the Clyde across to the mouth of the Forth — that is, from Dumbarton to Edinburgh. His sub sequent campaign along the eastern coast beyond the Forth, cannot be said to have been successful. In one respect it was a novelty in British warfare. The fleet of the Romans on the sea co-operated with the army on the land, carrying stores, making descents on the coast, and otherwise aiding the plans of the general. The Roman encampment, as it moved from place to place northward of the spot where Edin burgh now stands, exhibited a singular mixture of cavalry, infantry, and sailors- — the soldiers and the seamen vieing with each other in their different tales of adventure, but all prosecuting their common enter prise in the same buoyant and hopeful spirit. In the one great engagement of that season the advantage was with the Romans, but their losses were consi derable, and the issue could not be regarded as deci- ¦ sive. It was in the eighth and last year of his admi nistration that the military genius of Agricola achieved its great work. In this enterprise the army included several cohorts of Britons, who by this time had been successfully initiated into the discipline of the Roman soldier. The Caledonians — the tribes inhabiting the north Expedition and the north-west of Scotland — appear to have re- ctiedo- garded this campaign as hkely to determine the future nians" of their country. ¦ Dismayed as they had been at times by the skill and apphances of the Romans, if not by their courage, they were very far from having abandoned hope. Old feuds were forgotten. The feeling of patriotism prevailed over that of tribe, or clan. The contributions of armed men from different quarters amounted to more than thirty thousand. Both youth and age, such as might have pleaded for exemption, were present, eagerly proffering their ser vices. Among the chiefs at the head of those many 46 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. gatherings, the greatest was an experienced leader chapj. named Q-aigacus. Highly impassioned appeals are said to have been made by Galgacus to the Caledonians on the one side, and by Agricola to the Romans on the other. Both parties saw the interests at stake, and both were impatient for the fray. On the one side country and freedom were the issue, on the other honour and hfe. Battle of Agricola marshalled his eight thousand auxiliary infantry in the centre, and posted his three thousand cavalry as wings to the footmen. The legions were drawn up in the rear, at the head of the entrenchr ments — a reserve of Roman blood which was not to be spilt "ttnless necessary. The Caledonians stretched their rank to a formidable width on the rising ground which they had chosen. But their more advanced line was ranged along the more level ground towards the foot of the acclivity. Considerable space remained between this line and the advanced cohorts of the Romans: In that space the cavalry and cha rioteers of the Caledonians rushed to and fro in great excitement. This show of numbers and spirit pro duced its impression. Agricola spread out his force to a greater breadth, that it might be less unequal to that of the enemy. But every man felt that what was thus gained in space was lost in strength. Some of the officers suggested that the legions in reserve should advance to the lines. But Agricola was not disposed to foUow such counsel. He at once dis^ mounted, sent away his horse, and placing himself near the colours of the infantry, the spot where the danger was expected to be thickest, gave the signal for battle. The fight began with missive weapons, which were thrown from a distance. In this kind .of fighting the Caledonians, and the Britons generaUy, were more skilled than the Romans. Agricola saw that the advantage was not with his men. He accordingly gave orders that some of the cohorts should charge REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 47 the enemy with the sword. This. turned the scale, book r. The smaU shields, and the long unpointed swords of CnAP' .*' the Caledonians, left them almost defenceless in a close encounter with such an enemy. The cohorts not only used their short swords with great dexterity, but dashed the bosses of their shields on the exposed heads and faces of their foes. Everything yielded to this onset. Other cohorts foUowed the example thus set them, and with like success. In the meanwhUe the charge of the Caledonian horsemen and charioteers had been so furious, that the Roman cavalry had given way. The narrowness of the place neutralized discipline, by preventing anything like a regular combat. From this cause, and from the inequalities of the ground, the greatest confusion ensued. Horses without riders, chariots with no one to guide them; rushed from the ranks, and augmented the disorder. The reserved Caledonian force on the hiU now de scended to the strife, and, by outflanking the Romans, hoped to faU upon their rear. But Agricola com manded four squadrons of horse to charge this reserved force, which they did, and having passed through the line, wheeled round and feU upon the enemy from behind. This was the crisis of the struggle. All that foUowed was carnage. Many of the Caledonians fled in panic where there was no danger. Others refused to fly, and sold their lives as dearly as brave men in such circumstances could seU them. Not until nightfaU did the Romans desist from the pursuit and the slaughter, chasing the fugitives to their last hiding-places in the hills, the forests, and the marshes. Ten thousand of the Caledonians feU in this engage? ment. The loss of the Romans was little more than three hundred. Such are the advantages of military art and discipline over mere mUitary courage. This battle is supposed to have taken place in a district known as the moor of Ardoch, at the foot of the Grampians in Perthshire. We can readdy ima gine the picture which the Roman historian describes 48 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. as seen from the moor of Ardoch on the foUowing day CHAP' z" — the deep and melancholy silence that had come into the place of the cry and uproar of the battle ; the hills deserted ; the houses of the natives in the distance disappearing in fire and smoke ; not a man to be found by any search for him ; aU a vast and dreary sohtude. completion jjy jfchis victory Agricola may be said to have com- quesifof pleted the conquest of the island. But, as commonly „ Bntam. happens where sovereignty is despotic, the general served a jealous and an ungrateful master. Domitian recalled the successful soldier to Rome, and Agricola, on his return, consulted his safety by retiring to private life for the remainder of his days. In Britain his genius had achieved nearly aU that could be accom plished ; and by encouraging the arts of peace wher ever the sword had ensured tranquillity, he had set an example of the kind of service in which his suc cessors were to find their chief occupation.* interval of Through eighty years from the death of Domitian, —Hadrian' the imperial sceptre passed into the hands of wise and Antoninus, yirtuous princes, and those years were to Britain years of peace. In a.d. iaa the Emperor Hadrian visited this island, in pursuance of his plan to inspect in person every part of his dominions. During his stay that prince caused a rampart of earth to be raised across the island from the Tyne to the Solway, which became known in aftertimes as the waU of Hadrian.f But in the reign of Antoninus Pius it was deemed prudent to restore the northern boundary of the province to its ancient limits as fixed by Agricola, and the works which that general had constructed across from the Clyde to the Forth were strengthened by a line of defence simUar to that which Hadrian had raised more southward. The Caledonians had * Tacitus, Vita Agric. xviii.— xl. t Script. Hist. August. Vita Hadrian. 51-57- Xiphil. 1. 792. Eutrop. viii. 7. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 49 given frequent signs of disquietude, and the intention book r. of this proceeding was to keep them more effectuaUy CaAV' *' in check.* On the accession ofthe Emperor Commodus, in a.d. Accessionof 180, this long interval of tranquiUity came to an end. 2Srde"r. The conduct of the man in possession of the throne was . such as to ensure disorder elsewhere. The Cale donians made their way to the southward of the wall of Antoninus, and were joined by many of the Britons in the northern district of the province. Ulpius MarceUus, the Roman general, a man of worth and capacity, succeeded, after several engagements, in checking the revolt, and in obliging the Caledonians to retire within their own borders. But in this instance also, the successes of the general made him an object of jealousy to his master; and con cerning military proceedings in Britain after the dis missal of MarceUus, we know nothing for some years, except that the discords among the legionaries in these parts seemed to keep pace with the rapacity and cor ruption of the praetorians in Rome.f In a.d. 19a we find Clodius Albinus at the head of the army in Britain ; and five years later this general puts forth his claim to the purple in opposition to Septimius Severus. The two competitors met in that year near Lyons, where the defeat of Albinus was decisive. To prosecute this scheme Albinus had withdrawn the largest possible force from Britain. The Caledonians and northern tribes had seized on the occasion to assert their independence, and to make incursions southward. So serious had the aspect of affairs become, that campaign Severus himself, though advanced in age, and a great several ° sufferer from gout, resolved to assume the command of the army in this distant region. The emperor was * Script. Hist. August. Vita Antr Pii, 132; Eutrop. viii. 8. t Script. Hist. Aug. Vita Commod. 275 et seq.; Xiphilin. lib. lxxii. § 8. I E Chap. 50 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. borne from place to place on a litter, but prosecuted the war with extraordinary ardour. The campaign, from its being chiefly through woods and marshes, proved to be, not only laborious and protracted, but most costly of human hfe. Xiphiline makes the loss of the Romans to have been fifty thousand. Ultimately the Caledonians were made to sue for peace, and peace was granted them.* The memorable event in connexion with this enter prise was the erection of the famous wall of Severus. This wall was raised nearly on a line with that of Hadrian, but it did not consist, as in the foAier case, of a mere embankment of earth. It was constructed of stone, twelve feet in height, and eight feet in thick ness, with towers and stations at given spaces along the whole distance. Parallel with the waU was a military way and a dyke — and all these works were extended from Tynemouth on the eastern coast of the island, to Bowness on the western. During two years the emperor employed his legions on this stupendous un dertaking. The result was such as to justify even that amount of labour. Through a century and a half from this time the Caledonians rarely attempted to disturb the peace of the country thus protected. This wall was of course perpetually garrisoned and guarded, f, But domestic anxiety, in addition to age and im paired health, weighed heavily on Severus. His sons, Caracalla and Geta, were two of the most unprincipled and profligate men of the age — ready to purchase the gratification of their passions by any amount of crime. In the city of York, two years after the conclusion of his campaign against the Caledonians, the emperor died — more, we have reason to believe, from grief than from disease. His two sons were left joint heirs to * Aurel. Victor, in Septim. Herodian, iii. 20—22, 46; Xiphil. ex Dione, in Sev. f Xiphilin. ex Dione, Sever. Orosius, vii. 11. Spartian. Vita Sev. Eutrop. Horsley, Brit; Bom. 61, 63, 1 16-158. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 51 his authority. The young men were at enmity with book i. each other, but both hastened to leave .Britain that Chap' *' they might seize on the honours awaitiDg them in Rome, and surrender themselves to the pleasures that would be there at their command. At this point another long interval occurs through ^othe,r „ i-i nin- • -r. interval of which we find nothing, or next to nothing, in Roman tranquii- authors concerning Britain. It is probable that the hty' seventy years which foUowed from a.d. an to a.d. 384 were years of peace. The wall of Severus fenced off inquietude from the north. Submission had become general and settled in the south. Had there been commotion and bloodshed, history, which is so much occupied in recording such events, would not have been sUent. The progress of order and industry is . noiseless and imperceptible, and estimated truly only by the wise. In a.d. 384 Diocletian became emperor. In his time Division of the empire was parcelled out between four princes — —carau" between himself and Maximian as emperors, and Ga- siu?- lerius and Constantius as Caesars. In the division of territory between these princes, Gaul and Britain fell to the lot of Constantius. But before this division had taken place, a fifth competitor had made his ap pearance. Carausius, an officer of distinction, had been sent by Diocletian to suppress the piracies of the Franks and Saxons, who began about this time to in fest the narrow seas, and the coasts of Gaul and Britain, as freebooters. Carausius, however, was more intent upon enriching himself than upon executing the commands of the emperor. To escape the punish ment with which he was menaced, he seduced the fleet committed to his charge from their allegiance, entered into an alhance with the pirates, and at last prevaded on the military in Britain to accept him as their chief. Maximian had deemed it prudent to sanction this usurpation. In a.d. aoa Constantius determined that an effort should be made to bring it to an end. But before the war had extended from Gaul to Britain, e 2 52 CELTS AND ROMANS. Carausius was assassinated by Alectus, one of lite officers, who assumed the purple in his stead. Alectus had been in possession of his ill-acquired pOwer about three years, when he was defeated and slain ; and the accession of Constantius to supreme authority in Bri tain, was hailed by all but the lawless as the advent of a deliverer.* These events belong to the year a.d. 396. Nine years later, Diocletian and Maximian resigned the purple ; and Constantius became emperor.. But his imperial honours were of short duration. In the fol lowing year he died of sickness in the city of York. His son Constantine, afterwards Constantine the Great, then in Britain, became his successor. The reign of Constantine extended to something more than thirty years, and that interval was to Britain an interval of order and prosperity.! The ricta But by this time the m arauding tribes in the northern anil 0«J/\tD "_ , _ _ _ _ _ *-* _ _ ¦ part of the island had come to be known by the names of Picts and Scots, and their incursions southward had grown to be more bold and frequent. The Em peror Constans, the second son of Constantine, engaged in a formidable expedition to chastise these intruders, but history reports little concerning the result. In the struggle between the usurper Magnentius and Constantius, the third Bon of Constantine, Britain shared, in common with the other provinces of the empire, in the miseries entaUed by the rage of faction and of civil war. J • But, from this time onward, the great trouble in this island arises from rude hordes . of Caledonians on the land, and from the piratical attacks of the Franks and Saxons by sea. The inroads of the Picts and Scots and Scots. * Eutrop. ix. 639. Aurelius Victor in Constant. Eumen. Panegyr. 8. t Aurelius Vic. in Vita Constantin. Eumen. Panegyr. 9. Eutrop. x. 1. 11. % Ammian. Marcelli. xx. c. 1 ; xiv. c. 5 ; xv. c. 5 ; xxii. c. 3. Eutrop. x. 6. Zosimus, ii. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 53 had never been so successful and destructive as in the book i. space from a.d. 364 to a.d. 367.* CHAP' *' In the year last mentioned, Theodosius, one of the Aaminis- ablest and wisest generals of the age, came to Britain TUeoaoSus. to punish these marauders. He found that they had penetrated to the heart of the country, from the Tyne to the Thames. The new general came upon them near London, laden with booty, and bearing away men, women, and children as captives. In a short time he forced the depredators, not only beyond the waU of Severus, but from the north of the Tyne to the north of the Clyde and Forth, and once more made the wall of Antoninus the boundary of the pro vince, repairing its injuries, and adding to its places of strength. Cabals and treachery had weakened the Roman army ; corruption had taken root in the civil service ; but in Theodosius the province found the wise ruler and the able general. Both in the civil and military departments such improvements were realized, that the whole country seemed another home to those who dwelt in it. The new governor was soon recaUed; but the effects of his administration remained, and a grateful people flocked in multitudes towards the point of his embarkation, and lamented his departure as that of a father. It was the son of this Theodosius who became, emperor under that name.f The interruption to the years of prosperity which Maximus, foUowed came from the ambition of Maximus, an ^a Brit°- ' officer in the Roman army in Britain who aspired to tany- the purple, and who induced the army and people of Britain to support his pretensions. Maximus had married the daughter of a British prince, had served under Theodosius the elder, and had done much to impart security and prosperity to the province. The British youth whom he had trained to arms, followed * Ammian. Marcel, xx. c. I ; xxvii. c. 9. f Ammian. Marcel, xxvii. c. 7 ; xxviii. 3, 7. Claudian. Panegyr. Theod. 54 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. his fortunes on the Continent. They contributed to CtIAP' *' his early successes, and most of them survived his fate, but they never returned. They found their future home in the territory known as Armorica, to which they gave the name of Brittany. Some years later they were joined by a large body of their countrymen, who had been led into Gaul under simdar circum stances.* withdraw- Through the twenty years subsequent to the faU of Eomans. * Maximus, the distractions and weakness of the empire led to a gradual reduction of the army in Britain, untU in a.d. 41a, the last remnant was withdrawn. The story which remains is the melancholy one of which we shaU have to speak elsewhere — the inroads of the Picts and Scots, the aUeged pusillanimity of the Britons, and the invitation to the Saxons. The work of Such as we have described was the revolution sword°iTn brought about by the sword in Roman Britain. The Britain, island, from CornwaU to the Grampians, passes into new hands. But this change is not the work of a day, or of a generation. It is achieved at great cost, and it is sustained at great cost. The Britons dis puted every inch of ground once and again before surrendering it. The courage, the skill, and the spirit of endurance with which they defended their rude home and independence entitle them to our ad miration. In such chiefs as Cassivelaunus and Carac tacus we see what some of the greatest men in our later history would have been in the same circum stances. But after a while leaders of that order cease to appear. The warlike passions of the people cease to be what they had been. They dweU on the soil on which their fathers dwelt, but they have become men without a country. British authority, from being everywhere, ceases to be anywhere. The race which was once the sole possessor of the soil, retains its * Sozomen. Hist. vii. 721. Prosper in Chron. An. 387. Gildas, c. 11 ; Nennius, xxiii. Kowland's Mona, t66, 167. REVOLUTION BY THE SWORD. 55 humblest homestead only upon sufferance. Ingenuity book r. and industry are encouraged, but it is that they may C"AP' *' be taxed. The able-bodied may become soldiers, but it is, for the most part, that they may be expatriated, and add to the strength of the power by which they have been themselves vanquished. This, however, is no uncommon course of events in the history of nations. It is generally the precursor of something better, and, from the first, brings its good along with its evil. In this instance, an island which before the age of Caesar had been a comparatively unknown land — an object rather of imagination than knowledge to civUized men — comes to be an opulent province in the most powerful empire the world had ever seen ; and, through several centuries, a field for the display of the highest virtues and talents which that empire could furnish. The distance between the barbarous and the civilized can only be narrowed by degrees. The evU is, that civilized man is often more disposed to use than to elevate those who are beneath him. CHAPTER III. EFFECT OF THE ASCENDENCY OF THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN ON GOVERNMENT. book i. mHE usages which served the purpose of law among JLL_' J_ the Britons are but imperfectly known to us. It is assemblies certain that the government of the different nations cei™g the was morLarchical> or ^y chieftainship. Of course the chief, as in all such communities, was much influenced by the feeling of his tribe or nation. Strabo describes the Belgae, and the Gauls generaUy, as easily brought together in great numbers on public matters. On such occasions every man was forward to express his indig nation against any kind of wrong inflicted on himself or his neighbour. One person was invested with authority to secure order. If any man attempted to interrupt a speaker he was admonished by. this func tionary to be silent ; and should he disregard a third admonition, the sword of the officer was used to dis grace the offender, by depriving him of so much of his mantle as made the remainder useless.* Such con ferences, no doubt, took place among the Britons. British But the order of succession to the supreme authority appears to have been more fixed and hereditary among the Britons than among the Gauls. Exceptions to this rule did, no doubt, arise, but the rule remained. Thus the Trinobantes besought Caesar that Mandubra- tius, the son of their late chief, might be invested with the authority of his father, and be protected in the same against the ambition of Cassivelaunus. -j- In later times, * Strabo, Kb. iv. c. 4, § 2. Csesar, de Bel. Gal. iv. v. Tacit. Vita Agric. t Csesar, iii. 1. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 57 more than one British prince sought the intervention book i. of the authority of Rome on this plea.* It is clear, °HAI'' 3" also, that the law of succession was respected even when a woman happened to be the next by birth. Thus Cartismandua was the reigning queen of the Brigantes, Boadicea of the Iceni. The revenue of the British kings must have been Revenue. raised by rude and irregular means. It came from three sources — from their own lands and possessions ; from contributions made by their people ; and from their aUotted share in all booty, whether taken from an enemy, or, after the black-mail process, from neigh bouring tribes. The authority of these chiefs was restricted almost own autho- exclusively to questions of peace and war ; and even pruids*he in these cases, it was at their perU to slight the augu ries of the Druids. f What the notions of right were which determined the conduct of one community towards another, or of one man towards another, we can only conjecture, as it was a part of the policy of the Druids that law should never be committed to writing. Caesar, who mentions this fact, informs us that the Druids made use of writing on other occa sions. What was known among the Britons under the name of law, had been thrown into verse, and passed from the memory of one generation of priests to another. Many years were occupied in the effort to acquire the knowledge so conveyed. Nor was this all — the Druids were not only the depositaries of law, they were its administrators. Everything legislative and judicial came thus under a priestly influence, and took a theocratic shape— after the manner of those .eastern countries from which the Celtic tribes had migrated. The people were to believe, accordingly, that the voice of their laws was the voice of their gods. Fines, torture, and death were the punish- * Suetonius in Calig. 44. t Csesar, de Bel. Gal. i. 50. Diod. Sic. v. 354. Strabo, lib. iv. c. 4. 58 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. ments of crime, whether against person or property, HAP' 3i varying according to the magnitude of the offence. The rule by terror was rigorously adjusted, as in the case of all such communities. Evidence was admitted on oath, and might be obtained by torture; and acquittal might foUow by compurgators or by ordeal. Such is the sum of our knowledge, resting on evidence more or less satisfactory, in regard to government among the Britons.* Roman The change from a government by unwritten laws, mfen™ to a government by means of laws committed to writing, and reduced to a scientific system, is- great. Such was one feature of the change in relation to government in Britain introduced by the Romans. But this change was not accomplished at once. It was the wise policy of the Romans to regulate the exercises of their power according to circumstances. Where nothing beyond an annual tribute could be safely demanded, they were wont to profess themselves content with that concession, leaving the state in other respects in its original independence. This was all that Caesar presumed to exact from the Britons as the fruit of his two costly invasions. As the sum in this instance is not mentioned, it is probable that the amount promised was not large. We know that it was a comparatively smaU number of the Britons only who were parties to that transaction, and that the payment, whatever it may have been, soon ceased to be made. In the language of Tacitus, the effect of the invasion by Caesar was to ' show' the island to the Roman legions, not to give them possession of it.f Roman co- But where conquest and colonization were practica ble, and could be made to yield honour and advantage, the aim of the Romans was to conquer and to colonize. Before the close of the first century of the Christian * Diod. Sicul. v. 354. Strabo, lib. iv. c. 4, j. Csesar, de Bel. Gal. vi. 12-16. t Vita Agric. xiii. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 59 era, it was manifest that such objects might be realized book i. in Britain, and we have seen the heavy price which Chap' 3- Rome was prepared to pay that Britain might be thus allied to it. The veterans in the Roman army were aUowed to be gamers by any successful experiment of this nature, considerable portions of the conquered lands being always assigned to them. People not con nected with the army or with the government, from Rome or other places, were encouraged to seek a home for industrial purposes in the settlements so formed, and might be vested with the privUeges of Roman citizens. Hence the population in such places often grew with amazing rapidity. In regions which had been comparatively desert and barbarous, populous and opulent cities made their appearance in which the arts and refinements of Rome itself became suddenly natu ralized. Such in this country was the early history of Caerleon and Lincoln, of Chester and York.* In the progress of things towards this issue, it sometimes happened that the Romans allowed the princes whom they had vanquished to retain the ap pearance of ruling as in time past. But this was only that both princes and people might be subdued more effectually from being subdued by degrees. It was easy to reign through a former king by using him merely as a tax-gatherer. Used as a tool for such a purpose, the functionary soon became unpopular, and the people were not long unwUhng to dispense with his presence altogether. Cogidumnus was a British prince who became a victim of this policy, f When, by means of this nature, as weU as by the Provinces sword, the Romans had become sole masters of Britain, Britain*" they divided its territory into six departments. But the sixth of these provinces, lying to the north of the friths of the Clyde and the Forth, was a province in * Tacitus, Agric. c. 15, 16. Ann. lib. xiv. c. 31. Palgrave's Com monwealth, x. 3 jo— 358. t Tacit. Vita Agric. xiii. Hors. Brit. Bom. No. 76, pp. .192, 332. 60 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. name more than in reality. The Romans never ob- HAP" 3' tained any permanent footing in those parts. Nearly • the same may be said of the fifth province, lying be tween the walls of Antoninus and Severus. That territory was subdued more than once, and more than once relinquished. But in the four remaining provinces the authority of Rome was ascendant and settled . through more than three centuries. , The first of these provinces, under the name of Britannia Prima, em braced the whole of that part of England which measured the distance from the Kent shore of the Thames to the Gloucestershire side ofthe Severn, and reached southward to the Land's End. The second division embraced the whole of Wales, with some strips of country which have since formed border lands to England. The great centre territory of England, bounded by the German Ocean on the east, and by the lands of Worcestershire, Shropshire, and Cheshire on the west, and extending northward from the Thames to the Humber, was the third province^ and bore the name of Flavia Caesariensis. Maxima Caesariensis, the fourth province, was limited on the east and west by the two seas ; and, measured northward, included the whole distance from the Humber to the Tyne.* colonies— The settlements within these provinces were various, — Latiui* in accordance with the general law of the empire. Towns. rpkg £rs^. £n rank were the colonies. In these, which were only nine in number, the law and usage which obtained were, as nearly as possible, identical with those of Rome. Seven of these settlements are described as military colonies, two as civil. In the military colonies, the sons of soldiery, to whom shares in the neighbouring lands had been allotted, held them by a stern mUitary tenure. Next in importance to the colonies came the municipal cities. The inhabi tants of these places were to a large extent Roman * Notitia Imperii, 49. Hors. Brit. Bom. 3$6 et seq. Henry's Hist. ii. app. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 61 citizens, possessed their own magistrates, and within book i. certain hmits enacted their own laws. But York and Chap' 3' Verulam were the only municipia in Britain. There were ten places which bore the name of Latian towns, where the imperial laws were administered, but in which the people were governed by their own magi strates, and every new magistrate, after his year of service, became a Roman citizen. Magistracy in all these cities was hereditary in leading famUies, and vacancies were fiUed up on- a principle of self-election, or by nomination. As corporations, they very much resembled the close corporations of this country which were swept away by the late Municipal Reform Act. In corrupt times, these offices, as they imposed the duty of levying taxes, proved anything but desirable. Very severe penalties, accordingly, were provided against such as refused to act when caUed upon to do so. After the fourth century, and as a protection against abuses, the citizens were empowered to choose a Defensor, who acted as a popular representative in relation to the aristocratic body of magistrates. In the cities of Gaul the bishops generally fiUed this office. In cities not of the privileged class above named, the natives, and the residents generally, were not only subject to the imperial laws, but were pre cluded from aU share in the administration of them. In course of time these restrictions were in some de gree infringed, but to this effect was the polity set up by the Romans in Britain. To the last a strong line of demarcation was preserved between the conquerors and the conquered.* The authority to which all things within these The prefect. settlements, and through the four provinces, were * Lipsius, de Magn. Bom. i. 6. The following are the names of the nine colonies: Richborough, London, Colchester, Bath, Caerleon, Gloucester, Lincoln, Chester. In the age of the Antonines the" distinction between the colonies, the municipia, and the Latian cities was much effaced, and as the empire further declined they may be said to have disappeared. — Pal- grave's Commonwealth, c. x. 62 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. subject, was that of the praetor or prefect. Both the Chap' 3" civil and the military power was vested in this officer. He commanded the army, appointed magistrates, and regulated every part of the administration. He was invested with these powers by the emperor, and to him he was responsible ; but in all other relations his authority was supreme. During a long interval, large discretionary power was entrusted to the prefect, that he might be prepared to meet emergencies in distant provinces by more summary methods than the law could provide. This liberty, as wiU be supposed, was often grossly abused. In the reign of the Emperor Hadrian it came to an end. The 'perpetual edict' issued by that prince made the laws which were impe rative in Rome to be imperative in the provinces.* procurator. The only officer in the province who did not hold his appointment at the pleasure of the prefect was the procurator or quaestor. It belonged to this functionary, with his complement of officials, to coUect the taxes, and to superintend everything relating to revenue; It often happened that the procurator acted, and was expected to act, as a spy on the proceedings of the prefect, making his report to the emperor concerning any excesses, or any suspicious proceedings in that quarter. In other instances the two officials were manifestly on terms understood between them, each leaving the other to make the best for himself of his position. But it was supposed that the imperial in terests would be more secure by being placed thus in two hands, than by being left altogether in one. From experience, the tendency was to widen the distinction between these two authorities, rather than to dimi nish it. The revoiu- Thus in Roman Britain the powers of government govern-'0 passed wholly out of the hands of the natives, and ment. remained to the end in the hands of the conquerors. The British princes graduaUy sunk into obscurity, and * Tillemont, Histoire des Empereurs, ii. 264. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 63 bowed at length, in common with their subjects, to book i. the power which it had been found vain to resist. The ClIAPl 3' two elements — the conquerors and the conquered — never blended. British youths were trained to arms, but it was, for the most part, that they might be drafted off to foreign service. Others were trained to arts, but it was that they might be tamed by such pursuits, and made passive, not that they might become qualified for pubhc life, or rise to any political influence. The resistance of the natives had Seen so prolonged and determined, that the hope of any healthy amalga mation between them and the invaders was not entertained until the season for acting upon it with effect had passed. Supposing the imperial laws to have been purely administered, the change introduced must have secured to the Britons great advantage in aU suits between subject and subject. Their old Druid usages could hardly have given them the same degree of protection in such cases. And beyond a doubt the protection of property, and the encouragement to industry, conferred by the Romans, was an immense advance on anything of that nature which had existed previously, or could have existed under any other influence. But the laws in relation even to such matters were not always purely administered. Before the time of Hadrian, their authority seemed everywhere to diminish with the distance of the province to which they were to be applied ; and after that time, the Britons had often too much reason to complain of the arbitrary and cor rupt proceedings of their superiors. The account given by Tacitus of the reforms introduced by Agri cola, shows pretty clearly what the ordinary state of things had been. He began with the reform of his own household, removing aU slaves and freedmen from pubhc offices. In regard to taxation, he took care, it is said, that the assessments should be just and equal. He put a check also on the tax-gatherer, whose extor tions, real or suspected, were often more the ground of 64 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. disaffection than the tax itself. CoUectors, it seems, had chapj. keen uge(j to require that aU the produce of a district should be brought to some fixed place, where the pro ducer should appear, and have the privUege of pur chasing his own property at the reduced value fixed upon it by the government. By this custom, the expenses of carriage were added to the tax, and the feeling of dependence was wantonly embittered. Func tionaries who could deem themselves at hberty to pursue such a course must have been an evil race to live under. In case of hardship in this form, or in any other, the Briton might appeal to the prefect ; and if justice did not come from that source, the next appeal lay to the emperor. But it is obvious that only the wealthy could carry their suit to that ultimate tribunal, and the wealthy among the Britons were few. Had it been possible to guard against such abuses, even the advantage to be -derived from just laws justly administered may be too dearly purchased. In Britain, that political education of the people which comes naturally from the usages of self-government, was whoUy wanting. The Britons were viewed too much as mere material to be used up in armies, or to be made as productive as possible in the hands of a re venue collector. But ruin is the natural issue of all governments based on such maxims. In general, if the governed are not found to possess sufficient energy to cast off the yoke, they perish from exhaustion — the governed in the meanwhile being destroyed by their vices. Much land passed into the hands of the emperors by a succession of confiscations, and more by their harsh custom of seizing on the property of aU who died chUdless. It often happened that no man would take these government lands on the hard terms pro posed, and ih that case the little culture bestowed on them was by forced, that is, by slave labour. The far greater part of the land, however, remained in the REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 65 hands of the natives, but on conditions that were very book i. onerous. The land-tax alone absorbed one-third of Chap' 3" the net produce. Other taxes were levied in sea ports, in aU places of traffic, and in every man's home. For, besides the great tax on land, there were taxes on the sale of merchandize and of slaves, on mines, and on the person in the form of a poll-tax. Payments were also made to the government from aU property left by wiU, and from all funerals. Only by imposing such burdens was it possible to Roma.n sustain so great an army as was generaUy stationed in Britain. this island. In the early times of the Roman ascen dency in Britain, the army of occupation consisted of four legions, some 25,000 men, which, with the usual complement of auxUiaries, must have raised the settled force of the country to more than 50,000. The army in the field on some occasions, could not have been less than 50,000, irrespective of the numbers distributed in the various stations. From the Notitia Imperii, the official record of the functionaries and forces of the empire about the close of the fourth century, we learn that the army in Britain consisted at that time of two legions in place of four, but the total force then may be reckoned as 32,700 foot, and 4800 horse, in all 37,500 men.* The revenue adequate to sustain such a mUitary estabhshment, and a civU estabhshment of corresponding magnitude, must have been great — much too great to have been furnished by the Britons, had not their condition been a great remove from barbarism. * Horsley's Britannia Bomana, book i. chap. vi. ; book ii. chap, i., where the reader may find ample information on this subject. - CHAPTER IV. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. book i. r] iESAR describes the religion of Gaul and Britain Chap" 4' \J as the same. He further relates that the priests Britltnur °f Gaul who were desirous of becoming profoundly chosen learned in the Druid lore, generaUy passed some time in Britain for that purpose.* The religion which the Celtic tribes brought with them from the East did not seek contact with other races, and coveted secrecy for the exercise of its more sacred rites. As this com mand of seclusion failed them in Gaul, they appear to have sought it in Britain ; and even here to have re treated from the more populous and exposed regions on its southern coast, to the interior of the country, and to some of its remotest solitudes, as in the island of Mona. But where there is secrecy there will be suspicion ; and the imagination of the classical writers has not failed to people the forest temples of the Druids with such forms of superstition and cruelty as were supposed to be natural to those who covet dark ness rather than light. Enough of superstition and cruelty there was, but poetical inventions are of value only as poetry.-)- its theocra. The name Druid is supposed to have been derived tic theory. from ^e oa^ which was an object of special veneration with the priests of Gaul and Britain, f We have seen that the laws of the Britons were deposited in the mind of the Druids, and administered by them. So that they were not only priests, but in effect both * Bel. Gal. vi. 13. f Lucan. Phars. iii. 397. % Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 44 ; Diod. Sicul. lib. v. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 67 legislators and magistrates. In this fact their Ori- book i. ental origin is clearly indicated. They were the CtIAP' 4' ministers of a theocracy. So much were they vene rated, that even peace and war, which seemed to be almost the only questions left purely to the authority of their kings, was a matter virtuaUy under their con trol. The intervention of a Druid, we are told, was enough to stay the arm of combatants even when their rage was at the highest.* There were some distinc tions of rank among them, and females were allowed to participate in the honours of the office. Besides the ordinary Druids, who attended to the usual priestly services, there appears to have been a limited class who were accounted the inspired persons — the minstrel poets and prophets of their order. The services of the Druids as priests and magistrates, and the fact that they alone possessed any knowledge of medicine, or of useful science generally, gave them command of a revenue which must have been large as coming from such a people. Above aU, the spiritual power sup posed to be vested in them was terrible. The body and soul, the present and the future, of the people for whom they ministered,- were supposed to be in their hands. + There is no room to doubt that the Druids had, in unpopular common with aU the sacred castes of the East, their D^dTsm? secret and their open doctrine. What the tenets or speculations were which might be divulged to none but the initiated, can be to us only a matter of con jecture. It is probable that they embraced traditionary conceptions, of a philosophical and religious nature, much more elevated than the doctrine taught to the people. In the popular doctrine, the future existence ofthe soul had a prominent place ; but it was a future existence in which the retribution came from the cOn- * Diod. Sic. lib. v. c. 31. Strabo, lib. iv. c. 4. f Csesar, de Bel. Gal. vi. 13. Strabo, lib. iv. c. 4. Pomponius Mela, de Situ Orbis, lib. iii. c. 2. Ammian. Marcel, xv. Diod. Sic. v. E 2 groves. 68 CELTS AND ROMANS- BOOK i. ditions through which the soul passed in a series of Chap' 4l transmigrations. Not less prominent were the lessons of the Druid on the duty of worshipping the heavenly bodies, and a multitude of divinities to whom the at tributes, if not the names, qf the gods of Greece and Rome were ascribed. It is highly probable that the moral teaching of the Druids was comparatively pure, discountenancing perfidy and violence, and inculca ting good neighbourhood in the time of peace, no less earnestly than bravery and self-sacrifice in the time of war. Without high moral worth in some form, the Druids could hardly have been the object of so much veneration.* sacrea The oaks of Mamre served as a temple to the Hebrew patriarch. The shadow of the oak was the temple of the Druid. Among a people with whom large covered buddings had no existence, there would be no such buildings for religious worship. To this fact, probably, more than to any lofty conception of the Supreme Being, we should attribute the Druid usage of worship in the open air, or beneath no other roofing than the overshadowing of ancient trees. But the secret places in these groves were as sacred as the recesses of any temple. Those natural sanctuaries, with their dim religious light, had been planted, cleared, and cultivated so as to serve most of the purposes for which spacious buildings are raised ; and by the glimpses of them permitted on special occa sions, not less than by their concealments, they were made to diffuse a religious fear over the mind of the multitude. Rude stones, dispersed in the form of avenues and circles, some of them adjusted in the. cromlech shape, others so placed as to be altar-stones, were the only approaches towards architecture to be seen in these sacred inclosures. The stones so dis posed were sometimes aU but unhewn, as in the once * Csesar, de Bel. Gal. vi. 13. Mela, iii. 2. Pliny, xxx. 1. Diod. Sic. lib. v. c. 31 . Amm. Mar. xv. 427. Cicero, de Dim. i. 41. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 69 famous temple at Abury in Wiltshire. At other book i. times they are reduced into shape by the tool of the °HAP' 4" workman, and raised into artificial structures by mechanical skill, as at Stonehenge. In the figures described by them there was no doubt a mystic sig nificance, but on this subject our moderns have spe culated to httle" purpose. We should add, that the cause which made the Druid worship to be a worship without temples, made it to be a worship without images. In the history of barbarous nations, the rudest conceivable sculpture has sufficed to connect polytheism with idolatry. But the Druids were in- teUigent enough to see that their object would not be served by the aids of this nature within their reach. Their instinct appears to have taught them that, in regard to such objects, remoteness and invisibility are better sources of impression.* It must be confessed that in these aspects ofnraiaic Druidism there is something elevated and impressive, if compared with the systems which have obtained among many nations in the same stage of their his tory. The ceremonies, too, of the Druid worship, were not without their picturesque features. Their festivals were frequent, and celebrated with music and dancing, and choral hymns in honour of their divinities. In the month of August the grand cere monial of cutting the misletoe from the oak took place. The chief Druid ascended the tree clothed in white, and severed the branch with a golden knife. Priests stood below with a large white linen cloth open to receive the branch as it fell. Two white bulls, fastened by their' horns to the sacred tree, were then offered in sacrifice, and great rejoicings and feastings foUowed. f But the ritual of the Druids was not on aU occa- * Gen. xxxi. Tacit, de Mor. German, ix. Mona Antiqua, vii.— ix. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xvi. 44. Maxim. Tyr. Diss, xxxviii. Lucan, iii. 412. f Plin. Nat. Hist. xvi. 44. Poland's Hist. Druids, 69—74. 70 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. sions of this comparatively harmless description. HAP" 4' Their sacrifices rose in value with their sense of danger. Hence, in times of great public exigency, even human victims were offered, and these in great numbers. We have aU seen in imagination that colossal image of wickerwork, resembling the figure of a man, which was sometimes set up by them,. the interior filled with human beings, that the whole might be consumed to ashes amidst the noise of instruments and shoutings, much in the manner of the suttee ceremonial only of late abohshed in India.* special re- It is easy to see that the point's of antagonism of ITraidfsm would be strong between such a system and the kind jecth0f the °f r1J^e contemplated by the Romans. It was in- Romans. evitable that the success of the Roman power should prove fatal to that of the Druids. So long as the two existed together, the people were in the condition of being required to serve two masters. The priests of most other countries, with more limited pretensions, might be tolerated, but here there could be no com-. promise. As we have seen, the Druid was not only a priest. He may be said to have made the law, and he administered it ; and the foe with whom he now had to deal could know nothing of such authorities in other hands than its own. No doubt, the occasional cruelties of the Druid worship contributed, along with these causes, to the destruction of the order. The fact that the Romans suppressed the rehgion of the natives — suppressed it with violence and blood shed — would not dispose the Briton to look with favour on the rehgion of that people. We do not find, accordingly, that the gods of Rome ever became naturahzed in this country. This might have hap pened if scepticism in regard to the claims of those * Csesar, de Bel. Gal. vi. 16. Diodorus (lib. v. c. 31) and Strabo (lib. iv. c. 4) both speak of the Druids as sometimes striking the man devoted to sacrifice with their weapons, and as affecting to see future events in the throes of their victim. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 71 gods had been less prevalent among their professed book i. worshippers, and if the Roman ascendency in Britain ClIAP' "" had been more genial. The event shows, that the power which annihUated Druidism was to give Britain Christianity, and not another paganism. Not that anything of that nature was intended. But it was inevitable that the Roman roads should become lines Of communication, facilitating the travel of aU sorts of people, and of aU sorts of news, from the most distant parts of the empire. So the way was opened for the entrance of the Christian faith.- The pride of ancestry, rarely wanting in individuals, introduc- exists invariably in communities. Nations which chrisa- have not been able to discover a satisfactory origin anity' for themselves, have spared no pains to invent one. Their beginnings as a people, and the beginnings of everything characteristic and honourable in their his tory, have been to them themes of interest on which they have bestowed no httle embellishment. It would be pleasant to be able to assign the intro duction of Christianity into Britain to some very definite and very creditable source. But this Provi dence has not permitted. On this subject we possess abundance of fable, beneath which it is often difficult to find the true residuum of history. The blow struck at the Druid power in Mon a by Suetonius was decisive. The prophecies of that proud order had then come to nothing. The Britons had not prevailed. The gods in whom they trusted had not shielded them. The Druids had perished on their own altars. Their enemies had desecrated and destroyed their most sacred retreats. In these facts were the seeds of change. The ground was thus prepared, but by what hand Fictions was the next seed sown? The first preaching of the ^"a60"" Gospel in Britain has been ascribed to St. James, to™™°™ng Simon Zelotes, to Joseph of Arimathea, and to the taction of Aristobulus mentioned by St. Paul. But all these %£**' narratives maybe taken simply as so much illustra- 72 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. tion of that credulity, and love of fable, which distin- cha^4. gUjshe(j -the writers of the Middle Age, especially the monks.* story of It has been maintained by some that Pom- ersctaa!a Ponia Graecina, the wife of Aulus Plautius, who was governor of Britain from a.d. 43 to a.d.- 47, was a Christian. The facts which are supposed to warrant this opinion are the following. In Rome, in a.d. 56, Pomponia was charged with having embraced some 'foreign superstition;' on that charge she was tried in the presence of her husband and was acquitted; and subsequently, when a lady whom she tenderly loved had been treacherously put to death, she had a continual sorrow, and would never cease to wear mourning, f It wiU be seen that these facts furnish no evidence that Pomponia, the wife of Aulus Plautius in Rome in a.d. 56, had been his wife, and been with him in Britain in a.d. 45 ; nor any evidence that the foreign super stition which she was said to have embraced was Christianity. Her acquittal, and her continual sorrow, are evidence rather of a contrary nature. Had she been a Christian, she would hardly have failed to con fess herself such ; and it was not the manner of Chris tians in those days to sorrow as those who have no hope. Of ciaudia. An attempt has been made to identify Pudens, a friend of Martial the poet, and Claudia, a British lady whom he married, with the Pudens and Claudia men tioned by St. Paul in his second letter to Timothy. But the mention of Pudens and Claudia by Paul is in a.d. 67 ; and the marriage of the Pudens and Claudia known to Martial, and who are described as then in the flower of their age, did not take place until twelve, it may be twenty, years later. In addi- * Stillingfleet, Origines Britannica. Ussher, Britannicarum Ecclesi- arum, Antiquitates. Henry, Hist. Eng. book i. c. 2. t Tacit. Annal. xiii. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 73 tion to which, the Pudens and Claudia whose mar- book i. riage the poet celebrates, were persons expected to be °HAP' 4' pleased with his invoking aU the heathen divinities to be present with their usual benedictions on the occasion ; and the bridegroom at least is well known to have been a person not likely to be found culti vating the friendship either of an aged Christian apostle, or of a young Christian evangelist.* The only other names associated with the supposed introduction of Christianity into Britain entitled to notice, are those of St. Paul and King Lucius. In support of the claim of St. Paul, it is alleged P0^;*"™8 that Venantius Fortunatus, a Bishop of Gaul, and to st. Paul. Sempronius, a Patriarch of Jerusalem, have both stated explicitly- that this apostle preached the Gospel in Britain. But it is to be remembered that Fortunatus writes as a poet in the sixth century; that the language of Sempronius is cited from a panegyric on the apostle delivered in the seventh century. Testi mony coming so late, and from such sources, can be of no real value. But it is added that many other writers, some of them hving two centuries earher, assert that St. Paul preaehed the Gospel in the ' west- ' em parts' — an expression which was often used as comprehending Britain. Such expressions, however, were often used as not comprehending Britain, or any territory near it. This testimony, accordingly, is too vague to be of any weight. It is further urged that there was an interval between the first imprisonment of St. Paul in Rome, and his second imprisonment, in which he might have extended his labours to Britain, and in which it is probable he did, inasmuch as we do not find him conspicuously occupied during that period elsewhere. Here, again, it is to be remembered, that the release of the apostle from his first imprison- * Martial, lib. xi. ep. 13, 54. 2 Tim. iv. 21. Martial, it seems, was a man who could cast ridicule on the sufferings of the Christians. — Paley's Evid. part i. c. 2. 74" CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. ment in Rome, appears to have taken place in Chaf" 4" a.d. 63 or 64, and his second commitment was in a.d. 67. But in a.d. 67 he wrote his second letter to Timothy; and he there speaks of his having re cently been at Troas, at Corinth, and at Miletum; and of his having been occupied about affairs in Thessalonica, in Dalmatia, in Galatia, in Ephesus, and in Asia generaUy. It is scarcely too much to. say, therefore, that it was not possible that the apostle should have made a journey to Britain in the interval between his first and second imprisonment — and, of course, to prove the possibility in this case, would be by no means to prove th.& fact. Nor does it accord with our conception of a man who had a right to speak of himself as Paul the aged, to suppose that he added to all the occupations above indicated, in the short space of three or four years, the great labour that must have been incurred even to . have made a hasty visit to this remote island.* Legend of Concerning the story of King Lucius, the statement Lucius. of Bede is, that he was * King of Britain ;' that in the year a.d. 156 he sent a letter to Eleutherius, Bishop of Rome, praying that by his authority he might be aUowed to profess himself a Christian ; and that this1 pious wish being complied with, Christianity retained its footing in this island from that time.f Nennius, Abbot of Bangor, who is supposed to have written about the close of the seventh century, says that, in ' a.d. 167, King Lucius, with all the British chiefs, re- ' ceived baptism from the hands of messengers sent by ' the Roman emperors, and by Pope Evaristus.' £ It would require large space to point out the strange con fusions in history and chronology included in these brief statements. Whence Bede or Nennius obtained their information we know not. But here we have * Stillingfleet, Antiquities. Cave's Lives of the Apost. ii. 290. r Tim. i. 3 ; 2 Tim. iv. ; Tit. i. j ; iii. 12 ; Acts xiv. xv. xviii. xix. t Bede, Eccles. Hist. lib. i. c. iv. J Hist. Brit.e. 18. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 75 Lucius as ' King of Britain,' leading * all the British book i. ' chiefs' to baptism, at a time when the Romans had CHAr- 4' long since dispensed with the services of kings in this island, and when, if the very race had not ceased to exist, their being permitted to reign had come to an end. Here, too, we find the emperors of Rome taking upon them, in a.d. 167, to patronize Christianity, and, in conjunction with the Bishop, or rather the ' Pope* of Rome, sending forth legations of Christian priests to accomplish the work of conversion among heathen men at the outposts of their empire ! That Pope Evaristus might be the favoured instrument in this memorable proceeding, it is contrived by Nennius that a man who had died in a.d. 109 should be alive in a.d. 167. Bede, on the other hand, that he might assign this honour to Pope Eleutherius, makes that ecclesiastic to have been Bishop of Rome when he had still many years to serve in offices more humble. GUdas, our oldest British authority on British history, was a monk of Bangor, and hved in the middle of the sixth century ; but it is mani fest, that of this marvellous story about King Lucius, GUdas knew nothing, nor of any story resembling it. Eusebius, the careful chronicler of all such events, is ift like manner silent. The fact is, that between the age of GUdas ^.d Nennius, it had come to be regarded as a matter of importance that the clergy of the British ehurches, who had sought refuge in Wales, should be able to make out as good a claim to a Roman and apostolic origin as the clergy who had been sent by Pope Gregory to convert the Anglo-Saxons ; and this tale concerning Lucius appears to have been the fabrication of some British ecclesiastic, intended to meet this exigency, and to put the clergy of Wales upon as honourable a footing as their neighbours. In an age so little critical on matters of history, this was not a difficult work to accomplish.* * The credulity even of such men as Ussher and Stillingfleet, in regard to the fictions which have obtained currency touohing the introduction of 76 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. But the question may stiU be asked — are we, then, f^l!' left without any knowledge as to when or how Chris- bimy 'afto tianity first became known in this island ? Our answer the intro- to this question is, that we may imagine the probable, chns- where we cannot attain to the certain. The known intoBri- may be sufficient to warrant highly reasonable conjec- tain. ture as to the unknown. We know that communica tion between Britain and the Continent became regu lar and settled in the apostolic age. We know also that before that age had closed, Suetonius had destroyed the power of the Druids. Through more than two cen turies from that time Britain was in a state of com parative tranquillity. The legions and auxiliaries transported to this country often consisted of men who had been long resident in Gaul, and in other parts of the empire, where, before the end of the first century, Christianity had been widely propagated. Trade in tercourse with this country increased rapidly, and brought with it the usual interchanges of thought. Christians in those days, moreover, were zealous in an extraordinary degree — as Pliny's letters to Trajan abundantly show — in endeavours to diffuse their doctrine. The Christian soldier made it a matter of. daily talk with his comrades. The Christian merchant found occasion for discourse upon it amidst his. buying and selling. The rich Christian taught it to his slave, and the Christian slave dared to speak of it to his master. Every Christian had his mission. His sacra mental pledge had been, not only to hold the truth unto the death, but to endeavour by all available means to make it known to others. It is probable that the public teaching of Christianity was little known until these more obscure but earnest efforts had sufficed to Christianity into this country, is not a little surprising. The evidence which Ussher would have adduced from an ancient coin, said to bear the sign of a cross, and to have the name of Lucius indicated in the letters L. U. C, has been shown by Mr. Hallam to be altogether fallacious. See the paper on this whole story in the Archeologia, xxxiii. 208 et seq. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 77 bring very many to profess themselves Christians. Having resolved to annihilate Druidism, the concern of the Roman would naturaUy be that his own rehgion should come into its place. . Hence any conspicuous mode of attempting to make proselytes to a new and unrecognised faith would be viewed with suspicion and discouraged. The first converts would probably be made in the colonies and towns, but the more open exercise of worship would take place in districts less subject to the eye of authority. It is to the jealousy of this authority that we are indebted for our earliest authentic information concerning the Christian reli gion in Britain. Towards the close of the reign of Diocletian the Persecution obscurity in which the professors of the Gospel in Bri- Christiana tain appear to have been content to remain was to ™^Di0' continue no longer. The persecution which had dragged such men into fame in other provinces, for some years past, now began to do its work in this island. It is not probable that Constantius, who had recently put an end to the usurpation of Carausius and Alectus in Britain, was a party to these proceed ings. The blame rests, we have reason to think, on some subordinate who was disposed to gratify his love of rule by availing himself of the imperial edicts against the Christians — mandates which had been disregarded under the late usurped authority. The account given by Bede is, that a man named Alban, residing at Verulam, sheltered a Christian priest from the search of his persecutors, and that, being won by the holy demeanour of his guest, Alban became him self a Christian. So that, when soldiers came to demand that the priest should be delivered into their hands, Alban presented himself in the place of the man whom he had concealed, declaring himself a Christian. Of the miracles which gave their splendour to his martyrdom we need say nothing. But that there was a martyr at Verulam of the name of Alban, who was afterwards canonized, and from whom the 78 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. .town of St. Albans derives its name, may be accepted ,BAP" 4' as history. Bede -relates, moreover, that many more, of both sexes, and in other places, suffered in like manner, and makes special mention of 'Aaron and Juhus,' citizens of the ' Urbs Legionum' — that is, of Caerleon on the Usk — as having shown themselves faithful unto death.* Gildas, Orosius, and Bede all relate that this per secution having come to an end on the accession of Constantius, the father of Constantine the Great, the persecuted in Britain left their hiding-places in 'the ' woods and deserts, and secret caves ; rebmlt the ' churches which had been leveUed to the ground, ' and raised many new edifices in honour of the ' martyrs.'f These descriptions seem to imply that before the close of the reign of Diocletian the Chris tians in Britain must have been numerous, and have been possessed of considerable substance. British Nine years after the close of the Diocletian per- th?councir secution, Constantine assembled the council of Aries, of Aries. ^ which five ecclesiastics are reported as present from Britain — three under the title of bishops, the fourth as a priest, the fifth as a deacon. The first bishop was from York, the second from London, and the third probably from Lincoln. The whole number of bishops present from the western provinces, including Africa, was thirty-three. It is clear, therefore, that in the early part of the fourth century the worship and organization of the Christian communities in Britain had become so weU known and settled, as to secure them a recognised place in the great Christian commonwealth of those times. We may presume that the acts of the councU of Aries were received as law by the Christians of Britain in the fourth century. The members of that councU showed-themselves careful to ensure that the men who ministered in holy things should be men of a blameless hfe, and that the pri- * Bede, .EWes. Hist. lib. i. c. 6. j. t Ibid. lib. i. c. 8. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 79 vUeges of the Christian fellowship should be restricted book i. to persons whose hves were distinguished by Christian Chap: 4' conduct, and by fidelity to their profession. No bishop was to obtrude in the province of another bishop ; no bishop was to be ordained without the presence and concurrence of seven other bishops ; clergymen were not to be usurers, nor to be wanderers from place to place, but to be resident in the place in which they were ordained. Deacons were not to administer the eucharist. Among the persons to be suspended or excluded from communion were females who had married heathen husbands, charioteers in public games, actors in theatres, or clergymen who had betrayed their brethren, or delivered up the sacred books and. sacred things of the Church into profane hands in the times of persecution. No person who had once been baptised in the name of the Trinity was to be rebaptised. No person excommunicated by one church was to be received by another.* The Arian controversy began about a.d. 317. Eight orthodoxy years later it led to the assembhng of the memorable "ish church. councU of Nice. Some of the Britons are said to have taken the heterodox side in this dispute. But if the infection existed, it must have been very partial and temporary. Athanasius, Jerome, and Chrysostom, all proclaim the Britons as faithful to the Nicene doc trine. The loose expressions of Gildas and Bede on this point must be judged in connexion with such facts, t Monasticism obtained root in Britain in the fourth British mo- century. And if the speculations of Pelagius, a monk iwagius of Bangor, might be taken as a sample of the intelh- ^.Celes" gence of his order, we should be disposed to think favourably of the mental training to be realized in the monasteries of Britain in those days. Pelagius was a man of pure hfe, of considerable learning, of some * Labbe, Concil. ed. Harduin. i. t Stillingfleet, Antiquities, .175. 80 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. ethical acuteness, and well acquainted with the lead- Chaf" 4' ing ecclesiastics of his time, and with the affairs of the Church generally. Nor is there any room to doubt his sincere piety. His great antagonist Augustine, champion of orthodoxy as he was, is magnanimous enough to say of him, 'I not only loved him once, I ' love him stiU.' His errors are aU of the kind most common in the history of opinion — the errors of re action. Scandalized by the evils he saw resulting from a false dependence on rituahsm, and on priestly service in the sacraments, and not less by the covert excuse, for sin which had become prevalent among the orthodox under the plea of the moral inability of man, Pelagius laboured to give prominence to the moral and spiritual side ofthe Christian life, as embracing a department of truth and duty which the Church was in danger of forgetting or neglecting. But his halting- place was not the right one. Pressed by opponents, he learnt to deny that there is any inherent bias towards evil in man. Every man, he taught, has power from himself to obey the law of God ; and his salvation depends on the purity of his life, not on anything speculative or outward. In Christianity, as presented in the Scriptures, there is a transcendent teaching, and through it a divine influence comes to aid man in aU moral and spiritual effort. This is the substance and mission of the Gospel. It does not, he maintained, bring redemption or salvation in the sense commonly understood. In Celestius, a brother monk, who was also a native of Britain, Pelagius found a coadjutor, his equal in zeal, his superior, it is said, in the subtlety of his reasoning. By their joint labours a controversy was raised which agitated both the East and West for some time. preaching It does not appear that either Pelagius or Celestius andGP^na- ever visited this island after the pubhcation of their nus in Bri- opinions had made them notorious. Bede, however, relates that in a.d. 429, the Pelagian doctrine had been so far embraced in Britain, that the native clergy REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 81 became alarmed, and solicited help from their more book i. skilful brethren in Gaul, whence the new doctrine had CnA*- 4' come to them. As the result, a number of the Gallic clergy came to Britain, with the bishops Lupus and Germanus at their head ; and these holy men, it is said, having fiUed the land with the fame of their miracles, so confuted the heretics, in the presence of great multitudes of people, that they were brought to confess their errors.* These events belong to the early part of the fifth summaryof century. By that time the natives of Britain may be won™ rln- said, we think, to have abandoned their heathenism, &on' Much of its influence no doubt survived, but the new faith had become ascendant. Great was the revolution in ideas, in dispositions, and in usages which this change involved. The Christianity professed may not have been of the most enhghtened description ; but it gave to the people of this country their first true con ception of the Infinite, and it raised their thoughts to Him as to their Father through Christ. Humanity in Christ was before them as presenting the great manifestation of the Divine, the great pattern of the Human. Time was to develop the germ of intellectual and spiritual change included in this fact. With this new object of worship came new views of human duty and of human destiny. The reign of horrors, so often shadowed forth in the rites of the Druid grove, was succeeded by the calm and benign influence of a Chris tian worship ; and this new apprehension of the Great Parent of humanity was inseparable from a new ap prehension of humanity itself. It is thus that rehgious enlightenment comes to be one of the surest guarantees for enlightenment in regard to aU feehng and aU action. This revolution in religion, long advancing in secret, became visible and consolidated in the fifth century. The new faith bid fair to leaven the entire mind of the country. Its effect on that portion of * Eccles. Hist. i. c vii. G 82 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. the British race which was to survive the approaching JUL?' troubles was deep and permanent. The Britons are no more known in history as pagans. Those of them who are found in the fastnesses of Wales after the departure of the Romans, and after the invasion of the Saxons, are Christian Britons, with a Christian hierarchy, a Christian literature, and a Christian civili zation sufficiently strong to eradicate whatever remains of their old faith or usage may stiU have been left with them. AU these acquisitions they must have carried with them into their mountain homes. There was no channel of communication through which they could have received them afterwards. We have seen, however, that it is much easier to show that these aborigines of Britain did really become Christians in those early times, than to say exactly when, or by what means, this revolution was brought to pass. CHAPTER V. EFTECT OF THE ROMAN ASCENDENCY ON SOCIAL LIFE. AMONG the industrial arts, that of procuring the book i. means of subsistence is manifestly one of the Chap' 5" most necessary and primitive. Barbarous tribes ob- ^J?™1^™ tain their food, in a great degree, by hunting, fishing, Britons. and by expedients to ensnare animals. In the time of Csesar, the rudest inhabitants of Britain would seem to have passed considerably beyond that stage. Those who did not tUl the ground reared abundance of cattle. Many, especiaUy in the country bordering on the southern coast, cultivated their lands with manure and with the plough, and were wont to supply themselves with corn and other products by such means.* It was the manner of the Romans to encourage agriculture in every country that became subject to their sway. The rich products of the East were soon naturalized to a large extent in the less favoured cli mate of the West. The vine, the ohve, and many luscious fruits, such as the apricot, the peach, and the orange, passed from Italy into Spain and Gaul. Bri tain shared largely in these influences. The veterans who founded colonies became zealous cultivators of the lands which feU to their share, and taught the Britons, both directly and indirectly, to excel in such labours. f In the fourth century the corn produced in this island was conveyed in large quantities to other provinces of the empire, especiaUy to Gaul and Ger many. Upon an emergency, in a.d. 359, more than * Csesar, de Bel. Gal. v. 10-12. t Scriptores Bei Busticoe a Gesnero, torn. i. g2 Britonswere clothed. 84 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. eight hundred vessels were employed in carrying grain HAP" ,5- from Britain to the Rhine.* Nor was it in the field only that the skill and industry of the British hus bandman became visible. His vines, his trees bearing pleasant fruits, and his gardens generally, bore witness to the facility with which he could learn what his conquerors were prepared to teach, f Indeed, there is good reason to suppose that our agriculture was in a more prosperous state under the Romans, than at any subsequent period in our history during the next thousand years. how the Next to the need of food man feels the need of clothing. In the time of Csesar, many of the inland tribes of Britain had probably little better clothing than the skins of animals, their bodies being in great part naked. But we are not obliged to conclude that those skins were not prepared with some skill for their use; and we have seen, that some centuries earlier, there were Britons known to the Phoenicians who wore garments of cloth.| At the commencement of the Christian era the Gauls produced wooUen cloths of various textures, and could dye them of various colours. The manufacture of linen is an advance be yond the manufacture of wooUen; and this knowledge was famihar at that time to the Gauls. Scarcely any thing of this nature could have been known in Gaul, and have been unknown to the Belgic settlers in Bri-, tain.§ The costume of Boadiceais described as rich and queenly, and that of the men and women of distinction about her would bear some resemblance to it. II Ancient * Ammianus Marcel, lib. xviii. c. 2. Zosimus, Hist. lib. iii. c. j. f Script. Hist. August. 942. Tacitus, Vita Agric, xii. % Caesar, de Bel. Gal. v. 14. Pomponius Mela, iii. c. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xiii. 11. Strabo, lib. iii. c. v. § 11. § ' The Gauls wear the sagum, let their hair grow, and wear short breeches. Instead of tunics, they wear a slashed garment with sleeves, descending a little below the hips. The wool of their sheep is coarse, but long : from it they weave the thick saga called laines.' — Strabo, lib. iv. c. iv. § 3. Pliny, Nat. Hist. lib. viii. c. 48, xxii. c. 2. Diodorus. || Xiphilin. in Nero. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 85 writers often speak of the Gauls and Britons as one book i^ people in regard to all such exercises of skiU. Pliny CaAr' 5'' describes the simple process by which the people of both countries managed to bleach their linens.* The accounts which ancient writers have given of usetui the ancient war-chariot, show that the useful arts ment °ma" must have been in an advanced state in Britain before the first Roman invasion. All these writers concur in praising the skiU, and even the elegance, displayed in the construction and management of these machines. It is clear, from what we know of the war-chariot, that there must have been Britons at that time who were good smiths, carpenters, and wheelwrights. Such men would be capable of budding houses, and of produc ing furniture, after a manner unknown among nations in the lower state of barbarism. The scythes fastened to the axle of the chariot, and the weapons used by the warrior, bespeak considerable proficiency in the working of metals.f Then there was the harness, , which, rude as it may have been, must have been adapted to its purpose by many arts that would have their value in many processes besides that of harness- making. We have abundance of evidence that the Britons of both sexes were disposed to a profuse use of ornament in dress. Gold was worn about the wrists and arms, and on the breast. The tore — a twisted collar for the neck — was often of that precious metal. During more than two thousand years that ornament is known to have been in use among the, Celts. The tore was a symbol of rank, and the num bers of them taken from the Gauls were often among the richest spoUs of the Romans in their wars with that people. They are mentioned as among the tro phies in the procession in which Caractacus made his * Nat. Hist. xix. c. I ; xx. c. 19; xxviii. c. 12. f The Gauls do not appear to have used the chariot in war. Some critics bave come to doubt whether the British war-chariot was really scythed. But the evidence in favour of the common opinion on that point is not, I think, to be set aside. 86 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. appearance.* Many of the trinkets found in the — Z' burial-places of the pagan Britons are of inferior sub stance. They are found in bronze, in amber, and in glass ; but those of more costly substance were in use. Many of these articles were no doubt imported, but many were native' productions, and evinced the native skill. The comforts of home-life — the home stead, the furniture, and the food, could hardly have been obtained from a distance. causes un- There were, however, many causes which precluded toTcMiza- the Britons before the age of Csesar from making all anSe'nt ^e provision for their wants in this respect which they Britain, might have made. Britain in those early times was parceUed out between many separate communities, who were almost perpetuaUy at war with each other ; and the buildings of to-day were too often reared with the feehng that destruction might come upon them to-morrow. Csesar and Strabo indeed tell us that the Britons gave the name of a city to a collection of rude huts enclosed by a mound or stockade. f In the Bri tain which Csesar saw, the places of security were no doubt much of that description. But the strongest earthworks of the Britons, even in those days, were not in forests, but on high lands, wherever such lands were avaUable. Many of the positions thus chosen by them were afterwards occupied as beacon and mili tary stations by the Romans, though the Roman encampment was required to be square, while the British British works were always circular. This latter form, worts, in many of the earthworks which remain over a large portion of the island to this day, demonstrates their early British origin, occupied and disturbed as they * Titus Manlius, as we have all read, was named Torquatus, from the tore which he tore from the neck of a gigantic Gaul. Aneurin, the great Welsh bard, who wrote in the sixth century, laments the loss of several ' golden torcked sons' in the memorable battle of Cattraeth. Some three hundred Britons who wore that mark of rank are said to have fallen on that day. f Strabo, lib. iv. Rowland's Mbna, 38, 39. Csesar, de Bel. Gal.br. 12, REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 87 have often been since, not only by the Romans, but book i. by Saxons and Danes. Of such works Csesar saw CaAV' 5' nothing. The Malvern HiUs, Little Doward, Bass- church, and SUchester are among the localities re markable for British works of this description. In the last-mentioned place there have been the traces of a town regularly mapped out, and enclosed with stone waUs, which should be attributed, we think, on various grounds, to British skill before the invasion under Claudius. It should be remembered that the life of the Britons even to the time of this second invasion, continued to be to a large extent a herdsman's life ; and that these fortified places were not so much places of residence, as places of safety for themselves and their flocks in time of danger. Csesar himself speaks of the houses he saw in Britain as resembling those in Gaul. Now Gaul was not a country of wigwams. It contained cities of considerable strength and beauty. Before the close of the first century, when the Romans had stUl their conquest to achieve in this country, London, as we have seen, had become a place of great traffic, and of many thousand inhabitants. Early in the second century, Ptolemy makes mention of nearly sixty cities then existing in Britain. Some of these cities the Romans had created, but much the greater number consisted of Roman settlements fixed on British roads, and grafted on British towns. Exeter, for example, had been the capital — the place of general gathering, for the people of that part of Britain from the earliest time. It was thus almost everywhere. The old sites became the home of the new masters. In the interior and remote districts, the dweUing- places of our ancestors at the time of the first Roman invasion, were no doubt for the most part of a very humble description. They were generally circular in form, constructed of wood, the spaces between the framework being filled up with mortar or clay, the covering being of reeds or thatch. The roof was of a cone shape, with an opening at the summit to 8S CELTS AND ROMAN'S. book i. admit light, and to give egress to the smoke, the in- HAP" terior presenting a rounded apartment with its fire on the earth in the centre. Wretched as such hovels may be deemed, large portions of the subjects of great monarchies in modern Europe have been hardly better housed. Such erections as Stonehenge, though reared by Druids, evince a knowledge of mechanics which. cannot be supposed to exist apart from much useful knowledge beside. The whole track of the Celtic tribes, in their migration from the east to the west, is marked by such monuments. The works of this nature at Abury in Wiltshire are of greater extent than those of Stonehenge, and those of the temple of Carnac in Gaul were greater stiU.* The aptness of * The following passages descriptive of the character and manners of the Gauls in the age of Csesar are no doubt applicable substantially to the Britons at that time : ' The entire race which now goes by the name of Gallic, or Galatic (Gauls), is warlike, passionate, and always ready for fighting, but otherwise simple, and not malicious. If irritated, they1 rush in crowds to the conflict, openly and without any circumspec tion, and thus are easily vanquished by those who employ stratagem, Por any one may exasperate them when, where, and under whatever pre text he pleases : he will always find them ready for danger, with nothing to support them except their violence and daring. Nevertheless, they may be easily persuaded to devote themselves to anything useful, and have ¦thus engaged both in science and letters. The most valiant of them dwell towards the north and next the ocean. Of these they say the Belgce are the bravest, and have sustained themselves single-handed against the Germans, the Cimbri, and the Teutons — their equipment is in keeping with the size of their bodies. They have a long sword hanging at their right side, a long shield, and lances in proportion ; together with a maclaris, somewhat resembling a javelin. Some of them also use bows and slings ; they have also a piece of wood resembling a pilum, which they hurl, not out of a thong, but from their hand, and to a farther distance than an arrow. They principally make use of it in shooting birds. To the pre sent day most of them lie on the ground, and take their meals seated on straw. They subsist principally on milk and on all kinds of flesh, espe cially that of swine, which they eat fresh and salted. Their swine live in the fields, and surpass in height, strength, and swiftness. To persons unaccustomed to approach them they are almost as dangerous as wolves. The people dwell in great arched houses, constructed of planks and wicker, and covered with a heavy thatched roof. They have sheep and swine in such abundance, that they supply sagsB and salted pork, in plenty, not only to Bome, but to most parts of Italy. Their governments were for REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 89 the Britons to learn whatever Gaul, or Rome itself, book i. could teach, is amply attested by Tacitus, whose in- HAP' s' formation must have come from the best authority — from the great Agricola.* But the settlement of the Romans, of course intro- soman duced both the useful arts and the embeUishments of Stroduce°d. life, in the maturity which had then been given to them among the most civilized nations. The fraternities and corporations of weavers, and of other crafts, which were protected and patronized by the Roman State, soon made their appearance in this country, as in the other provinces of the empire, and the artisans in Rome produced few articles of utility or luxury that were not also produced in Britain. Winchester was to the people of those times very much what Leeds and Manchester have since become to ourselves. f the most part aristocratic. Formerly they chose a governor every year, and a military leader was always selected by the multitude. To their sim plicity and vehemence the Gauls join much folly, arrogance, and love of ornament. They wear golden collars round their necks, and bracelets on their arms and wrists, and those who are of any dignity have garments dyed, and worked with gold. This lightness of character makes them in tolerable when they conquer, and throws them into consternation when worsted.' — Strabo, book iv. c. 4. Among the Britons, as we have seen, monarchy or chieftainshp was hereditary, but in nearly all other respects the Belgae and the Cantii were the same people. * Vita Agric. xxi. Gough's Camden, i. 141. Archaeologia, xv. 1 84. Horsley's Britannia Bomana. Akerman's Archaeological Index, 44, 4j. There are many remains of British earthworks in Oxfordshire, and more in Dorset. Cyclops Christianus. In the learned work with this title, Mr. Herbert attempts to show that the stone structures above men tioned are the work of Christian Britons after the departure of the Bomans. But his case is by no means made out, t In all the Boman cities there were incorporations of operatives and artificers, answering very much to the trade guilds familiar to us in the later times of British history; but these incorporations were known in law by the name of ' colleges.' These associations were intimately connected with religion, included a principle of caste, and have been variously described as fraternities and republics. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that they should have been at times prohibited as politically dangerous. — . Palgrave, c. x. 331-335. See Horsley's Brit. Bom. 337-342, for evidence showing that colleges of this description were early introduced into Boman Britain. Du Cange, Gloss, voce ' Gynsecium.' Cod. Theod. iii. lib. x. tit. 20. 90 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. With this new taste and skill in so many things, Chap. 5 would come new taste in matters of furniture and Pottery. ornamen-(; ij^g useful and the elegant in pottery were produced in great quantities in many parts of this island. Large traces of this branch of industry, dating from the time of the Romans, have been discovered in Kent, Northamptonshire, and elsewhere. The terra cotta produced by the same artists, was also in a beau tiful style of workmanship. From the abundance of such remains on the sites of all the Roman stations, and from other evidence, it is clear that the use of pottery was much more common among the Romans than it is among us. It is no longer to be doubted that or naments from jet, or what is now called cannel coal, were produced in Roman Britain, and that our an cestors were familiar thus early with much skilful workmanship in glass. Mines— We find also that the Romans were by no means metaTs. ignorant of the mineral treasures to be found in Bri tain. They burnt coals on the banks of the Tyne and elsewhere in those old days. They amassed large wealth by working mines for iron, and lead, and tin, and copper ; and false hopes were sometimes raised by their coming upon a vein of sUver, and even upon gold. Their principal iron works were in the forest of Dean; and in the forest of Anderida, now the Weald country of Sussex and Kent. The Roman coins often found in the scorise of these deserted works, as well as the abundance of Roman pottery, determine the date and origin of such works. Eoman The Roman citizen disposed to make himself ac quainted with the island of Britain towards the close of the third century, would of course consult some Itinerary setting forth its principal towns and roads. Our modern raUway-map gives us something very like the chart that would be placed before him. The trunk hnes of our new iron roads go to a great extent along the track of the old military routes in Roman Britain. The cities and towns which form roads REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 91 the termini of our main hnes now, were most of them book i. existing as terminating points then, and their names Chap" 5' are only slightly, if at aU changed. It is true the Romans generaUy constructed their roads in direct hnes, crossing alike the hill and the valley. Where such inequalities occur we now do our best to desert the old pathways. But the greater part of England is comparatively level ground. The road from Dover to London passed through Canterbury and Rochester in those days as in later days. To leave London through the hne of street now known as Bishopsgate, was to enter upon a road which sent off its branches to the Humber and the Tyne, the Mersey and the Solway. Leaving London by the outlet now known as Ludgate, a smooth and safe road would be found open into Devonshire or South Wales, stretching from Gloucester, to Shrewsbury, and striking off to St. George's Channel. Between these main lines were many branch hnes, covering the whole land with a busy network of communication, connecting the greater cities with the population of the smaUer towns and viUages. Many of these roads passed through the dense forest, bordered on the stagnant marsh, pursued their arrow like course across the desolate moorland, or opened to the wayfarer the sight of blue hiUs and rich vaUeys, full of beauty, and of the signs of industry, wealth, and civilization. At short intervals along these roads, as on the banks of so many rivers, Roman stations made their appearance, with vUlas, and build ings of every description, clustered about them.* But the Roman viUa supposes an advance in art Educated beyond the barely useful. The humblest form ofmanBri-" handicraft implies a measure of education and oftain- mental development. But the social hfe of the * Horsley's Britannia Bomana, book iii. Journal of the Archaeo logical Association, i. 1-9; ii. 42, 86, 164-169, 324, 339, 349. Wellbeloved's Tork under the Bomans. Whitaker's Manchester. Moule's Essay on Boman Villas. 92 CELTS AND ROMANS. book i. Romans embraced that intellectual life which results — _' from the direct and indirect influence of science, letters, , and general taste. To what extent were the Britons found capable of appreciating such refine ments ? DrriYf . ^e Druids of Gaul and Britain, according to the fluence. testimony of nearly aU our earlier authorities in rela tion to them, were men who owed their position to their science and learning, even more than to their office as priests. They are described as being pro found students in physiology, botany, medicine, and surgery; in arithmetic, geometry, mechanics, and as tronomy. They are even said to have excelled in geography. In these descriptions there is no doubt much exaggeration. But it is certain that the Druids affected to be in possession of extraordinary knowledge on aU these subjects ; and that whatever they knew was mixed up with pretensions to supernatural powers, and made to subserve their priestly rule. Their knowledge, besides being thus misapplied, and of necessity hmited, and mixed with much error, was always the knowledge of a separate order of men, if not of a caste. It came to the people, in consequence, only indirectly, and rarely as a real advantage. So that when the Romans swept away the Druids, and took the natives under their own guidance, they had to commence the education of their new alhes, as re garded any knowledge of letters, from the beginning.* The fine Tacitus describes the course given to the occupa- generain tions and tastes of the Britons towards the close of culture. ^e grg.|. cgutury i ^e ^eatk °f Oswy, in 670. The office ¦ had come into existence from a sense of common danger and of common interest ; and it owed its con tinuance to the feehng in which it had originated. This danger was apprehended as likely to come from the Britons in the west, from the Scots in the north, and from the unsettled hordes on the other side the Ger man Ocean. But the idea of combination against these foes was more an idea than a reality. Experience had shown this ; and the function of Bretwaida appears to have ceased as it became manifest that the uses of it * Chron. Sax. a.d. 488-670. Ethelwerd, lib. i. 11, Bede, Hist. ii. 5. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 131 were imaadnarv. But so long as a Bretwaida was book ii. • Chap 3 acknowledged, there was the probability that a power- _' ful chief, under that title, would some day become king of Anglo-Saxon Britain. From the manner in which the Saxons became possessed of the country, it was natural that it should be parcelled out into a num ber of separate and comparatively small sovereignties. But there was nothing in the surface of the country to favour the perpetuity of the state of things so ori ginated. Greece, by the intersections of its seas and mountains, appeared to be mapped out by the hand of Providence to become the home of a number of small and independent states. Not so that part of Britain which has since become known as England. The fastnesses of Wales, and the Yorkshire and Grampian Hills, might long present impediments in the way of a great national unity. But over the re maining portion of the island the lines of separation between territory and territory were so faint, that the necessary alternative was, between a state of almost perpetual feud, and the concentration of the several states into one by some leader powerful enough to realize such a change. But the office of Bretwaida is perpetuated through nearly two centuries, and no one of the princes sustaining it becomes thus potent. And now a hundred and thirty years intervene between the death of the last Bretwaida and the accession of Egbert, sometimes described as the first king of England; and two centuries and a half are to pass before the accession of Athelstan, the first Anglo-Saxon king really entitled to that description. The history of the Anglo-Saxons during something Ascendency more than the first half of the next two hundred and Lwa, fifty years is mainly the history of the three principal ^e^ma states — Northumbria, Mercia, and Wessex. These states, as seen on the map, form a crescent, one point of the curve taking its start from the part of Scot land bounded by Glasgow and Edinburgh, and the other point terminating in CornwaU. In the hoUow K 2 bria, 132 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. of this crescent lies the home of the Welsh ; beyond HAP" 3" the outer line of it, and stretching towards the Enghsh Channel and the German Ocean, lay the kingdom of the East Saxons, Sussex, Kent, and East Anglia. An intelligent conception of this period in English history is not possible without keeping these facts in mind. Northum- During the hundred and thirty years between the death of Oswy, the last Bretwaida, and the accession of Egbert to the throne of Wessex, the sceptre of Northumbria passed into new hands upon the average every seven or ten years. Of these princes, the one- half perished in the constantly recurring wars of the period ; and the other half, with only one or two ex ceptions, were despatched or dethroned by their own subjects. These facts suggest much in regard to the disorder and crime prevalent among that people. But the reality in this case was such as hardly to be reached by the imagination. Egfrid, who succeeded Oswy his father, compeUed both the Scots and the Mercians to respect his terri tory. But his wars were incessant — now with the Mercians, now with the Irish, and now with the Scots. In an expedition against the latter he was beset in the passes of the country, and experienced a signal defeat. His own body was among the slain. Few of his followers escaped. An army sent against the Scots by Aldfrid, his successor, shared the same fate. The reign of Aldfrid, ' the learned,' was com paratively peaceful. But on his decease the history of Northumbria becomes such a calendar of enormities that we feel no disposition to dwell upon it. Kindred struggled against kindred for the possession of the supreme power : the prize seized at the cost of perfidy and blood to-day, was snatched away by hands as httle scrupulous to-morrow ; and men who had hoped to brave the storm in which so many had perished, were glad to escape from the fury everywhere abroad, by seeking admission to a convent, as affording them their only chance of security and repose. Charle- RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 133 magne denounced these Northumbrians as ' a per- book ii. ' verse and perfidious nation, worse than pagans.'* °HAP' 3' Mercia, we have seen, was the middle kingdom, Power of between Northumbria on the one hand, and Wessex Mercia" on the other. With a powerful rival on either side, and with such bad neighbours as the Welsh along its whole western border, it seemed necessary to its inde pendence that it should be the strongest kingdom of the three. But the comparative power of these states depended on power in their kings ; and each oscillated accordingly, as their monarchs happened to be men of capacity, or devoid of it. Oswy of Northumbria acquired a partial ascendency over Mercia. But before his decease in 670, the Mercians asserted their independence, and something more. In 661 Wulphere, the son of Penda, who then ruled in Mercia, overran Wessex, and attached por tions of its territory to his own. But Wulphere died in 675, and before his death Egfurth of Northumbria had again turned the scale in favour of the northern kingdom. Ethelred, who reigned over Mercia the next thirty years, sustained its independence and reputa tion. Little need be said of the two immediate suc cessors of Ethelred— Csenred and Ceolred. The first retired to a monastery, after a reign of five years. The second shortened his days by licentiousness. Their conjoint reigns numbered twelve years, and these appear to have been years of quiet to their subjects. Ethelbald, the next king of Mercia, reigned from 716 to 757. He was a man of dissolute habits through the greater portion of his hfe. But he was also a man of capacity, both in council and in the field. For a time, not only the. lesser states of the Heptarchy, but even Wessex, acknowledged his authority. But in 752 the West Saxons cast off the yoke which * Bede, Hist. iii. 14—27 ; iv. 26; v. 23. Chron. Sax. a.d. 617-800. Malms, de Beg. 134 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Ethelbald had imposed on them. In a memorable HAP" 3' battle at Burford in Oxfordshire, the Mercians were not only defeated, but the panic which seized the army was attributed to a want of courage in their king. A few years later Ethelbald was succeeded by the celebrated Offa. KiseofOffa. The first fourteen years in the reign of Offa were spent in quelhng disaffection among his own subjects. Subsequently he waged successful wars against Kent, and Wessex, and the Britons. To guard his territory against the incursions of the latter enemy, he con structed a trench and embankment, known in after times as ' Offa's Dyke.' This work parted off the border territory of the Welsh from that of the Mer cians, over the whole line of country from the neigh bourhood of Chester to the lower banks of the Severn. Through the influence of the Anglo-Saxon scholar ofraand Alcuin, a correspondence took place between Offa and magnt Charlemagne. The king of the Franks performed the office of mediator between Offa and certain Mercian thanes who had become exiles in France as the conse quence of having committed themselves against the authority of Offa in the early period of his reign. We learn also that Charlemagne felt aggrieved by some fiscal irregularities attributed to certain Mercian manufacturers who imported woollen goods into France. On these matters the result of the communications between the two kings was satisfactory. But not so on matters of another kind. Charles requested the hand of a daughter of Offa for one of his illegitimate sons. _ Offa, in return, requested the hand of a French princess for his eldest son Egfurth. But this pre sumption, as it was deemed, offended the pride of the Frank, and the correspondence between the two kings came to an end. The hand of the princess which Charlemagne had solicited for his son was afterwards sought by Ethelbert, RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 135 king of East Angha. Ethelbert was young and accom- book ii. plished, and possessed of many estimable qualities. .fff_3- Approaching the borders of Mercia, the young ldng Murder of despatched a messenger with presents, and with a thelbe,t' letter, stating the object of his errand. In reply, assurance was given of "a cordial welcome ; and on his arrival, himself and his retinue were received with every apparent demonstration of respect and good feeling. As the advance of the evening brought the feasting and merry-making to a close, Ethelbert with drew to his chamber. Presently a messenger sought access to him, and stated that the king wished to confer with him on some matters affecting the pur pose of his visit. Ethelbert at once followed the footsteps of his guide. But the way led through a dark narrow passage, and there, from invisible hands, the confiding youth received a number of wounds which at once deprived him of life. Offa affected sur prise, indignation, the deepest grief; he would see no one, and so on. But history points to his wife as having suggested this atrocious deed, and to himself as having consented to it. It is enough to say that Offa seized on the domains of his murdered guest. But in two short years the blood-guUty monarch was called to his account. This crime has fixed infamy on the name of Offa and his queen. Unhappily, such deeds were not rare in the history of ruhng men and ruling women through this period of our history. Egfurth, the son of Offa, reigned but a few months ; and, after a few years of vicissitude and misfortune, that once powerful family became extinct. Cenulf, of the family of Penda, was the next king of Mercia. His reign is chiefly remarkable from his invasion of Kent, and from the part taken by him in certain ecclesiastical disputes which will claim our attention in another place. Kenelm, his son, a boy of seven years of age, was murdered a few months after his accession. Ceolwulf, who succeeded him, 136 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. was dethroned in the second year of his sovereignty. HAP" 3' Beornwulf, the next in succession, had to submit to the rising power of Egbert of Wessex.* Progress of We are now come upon a track which promises to bring us within sight of the object of our search — a concentration of the sovereignty in Anglo-Saxon Britain. We have seen that in 488 Ceawlin, king of Wessex, became Bretwaida, on the decease of the first great Saxon adventurer, Hengist of Kent. Ceawlin was succeeded by his nephews Ceofric and Ceolwulf. The reign of Ceolwulf was long, and eminently successful. The Scots and Picts, the Britons and the Saxons, all felt the power of his hand. The South Saxons strug gled in vain to become independent of his sway. The Britons he compelled to leave the plains of Gloucester shire, and to seek an asylum on the opposite banks of the Severn. On the death of Ceolwulf, in 61 1, the suc cessive reigns of the two nephews were followed by the conjoint reign of two brothers, Cynegils and Cuichelm, sons of Ceolwulf. Through twenty-four years the two brothers reigned in harmony and successfully. They chastised an aggressive spirit manifested by the East Saxons ; and they were victors in their encounters with the Britons, especially in a great battle at Bramp ton in Somersetshire. Even the strength of Penda of Mercia, if not inferior to their own, was not suffi cient to subdue them. Cuichelm died in 635, Cyne gils in 642. Coinwald, the son of Ceolwulf, was the next King of Wessex. He reigned thirty years. He waged successful war against the Britons. But in his time the West Saxons bowed to the supremacy of Mercia, first under Penda, and afterwards under Wulphere. On the death of Ceolwulf, his widow, Sexburga, and several members of his family, set up their claim to * Chron. Sax. a.d. 66i et seq. Ethelwerd, Chron. lib. i. — iv. passim. Florence Wigorn. a.d. 661—819. Bede. Lappenberg, Hist. Eng. i. 221—238. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 137 be his successor, and for some thirteen years the book ii. country was fiUed with disorder and violence. In 685 Chap' 3" Ceadwalla, a descendant of Ceawlin, became king, ceadwaiia. CeadwaUa was not more than twenty-six years of age. But he had made no secret of his pretensions to the throne, had shown himself brave and able, and Ceut- win, the last king, had named him as his successor. His arms were successful against the South Saxons, and against the Jutes of Kent and of the Isle of Wight. But his murder of the two sons of Arvald, a chief who had defended the latter place against him, betrayed his want of magnanimity, and proclaimed him as unscrupulous and cruel. He had formed a friendship in exile with another exile, WUfrid, some time Bishop of York. Under the influence of that ecclesiastic he visited Rome, to receive baptism from the hands of the Pope ; but, before putting off the baptismal vestments, he was seized with the sickness of which he died seven days afterwards. If the reign of CeadwaUa was short, that of Ina, ina. his successor, was long — it was also memorable. It extended to thirty-seven years — from 688 to 726. Ina added the wisdom of the legislator to his genius and courage as a military chief. He, too, ended his days as a rehgious pilgrim in Rome. His subjects, who appear to have grown impatient of his sway, were now left to reap as they had sown. They had embittered the latter days of a good king, and many long years of disorder and suffering awaited them. The succes sion to the throne was disputed. Their enemies, especially the Britons, avaUed themselves of the season of weakness to make injurious inroads upon their terri tory. The successive reigns of Ethelheard, Cuthred, Sigebyrcht, Cynewulf, and Brittric give us alterna tions of success and defeat in wars against the Mer cians and the Britons, with the too common admix ture of deeds of treachery and murder. Of Brittric we only know that he was chosen by the Wessex thanes as successor to Cynewulf; that at first he had 138 SAXONS AND DANES,. book n. a competitor in Egbert, who, after fifteen years of _H_' exile, was to be his successor ; and that he met his a.d. soo. death by drinking from a poisoned cup which his queen had prepared for a young nobleman, of whose place in the affections of the king she had become jealous. This queen was Eadburga, a daughter of Offa. Accession On the death of Brittric, Egbert was the only sur- 01 -.gjeir. .y-^^g descendant of Cerdic, the founder of Wessex. His claim to the throne was undisputed. His years of exile had been to him years of education. Under Charlemagne he became proficient in matters of war and government. The early years of his reign were wisely employed in improving the condition of his people, and in consolidating his power. Subsequently, he extended his conquests into Wales,. and the western counties of England. The Britons in those territories had never been so far subdued.* But it was not until more than twenty years after his accession that Egbert ventured to attack the Mercians. The East Anglians urged him strongly to this enterprise. They still remembered the murder of their young king Ethelbert, and longed to see a fitting vengeance descend on the power which they viewed as stained with his blood. The victory of Egbert over Beornwulf of Mercia, in 823, enabled him to assert his sove reignty over the East Saxons, Kent, and East Anglia. Sussex was aheady a part of Wessex. It only remained that Northumbria should acknowledge his supremacy. In 828 that acknowledgment was extorted without Extent of an appeal to the sword. Egbert thus became the his autho- eighth. Bretwaida, or, as some have designated him, the first king of aU England. Separate states had their kings under Egbert, as under those who had borne the title of Bretwaida before him. But from Cerdic, through Egbert, aU the * ' The same year Egbert laid waste West Wales from eastward to westward.' — Chron. Sax. ad an, 813. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 139 dynasties to which England has been subject have bookh, claimed to be descended. It is this fact, as much as °HAF' 3' his high authority, that has made the name of Egbert a landmark in English history.* So we see a century and a half pass away between ^™tg^"f the death of the seventh Bretwaida and the appearance ed for an of the eighth. But the power of Egbert, as we have Heptarc y" intimated, was much greater than that of his pre decessors, and gave better promise of continuance. With him the title of Bretwaida was a reality. Ex perience must often have suggested that this sub division of territory, in a country which left no one state any strong natural means of defence against another, must be inseparable from much inquietude and suffering. Over the space of more than three centuries the same evils had been constantly arising from this source. The history of the Heptarchy had been in fact the history of a struggle for the mastery. In time, the master would be sure to come, and the more advanced civihzation of Wessex, together with its closer relation to the Continent, seemed clearly to point to that kingdom as the seat of the future sove reignty. Even the ravages of the Danes, while they tended rather to distract and weaken the several states than to unite them, operated favourably for Wessex, inasmuch as they feU in their greatest weight upon its rivals. But, beside the calamities which came from the fre- Evils from quent wars of the different states with each other, monarchy! there were others, hardly less considerable, arising from the custom which made the monarchy in aU those states in a great measure elective. The suc cessor to the vacant throne was generally sought in the family of the deceased king. But the nearest of ' * Chron. Sax. a.d. 488-827. ' This Egbert,' says the chronicler, ' was the eighth king of the English nation who ruled over all the southern provinces, and those which are separated from the north by the Humber,' a.d. 827. Ethelwerd, ii. 9, 10, 12, 13-20. Flor. Wigorn. a.d. 67 2 et seq. Lappenberg, Hist. Eng. i. 25 1. Mackintosh, Hist. Eng. 140 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. kin did not alwavs succeed if not otherwise eligible. — !_' If of tender years, or of deficient capacity, the claim of an elder son might give place to that of a younger, or even to that of some collateral branch of the family. Hence, on the death of a king, there was often room for the question, who should succeed him ? Even in an ticipation of that event, factions were formed, intrigues were rife, and much mischief ensued even when the competitors did not proceed to the length of settling their differences by the sword. St of sue- But there were strong reasons to be urged in cession was favour of this custom, notwithstanding these grave unsettled. consequences attendant on it. It should be remem bered that this usage, and the ideas and feelings on which it was based, were essentially German. Our rude Saxon ancestors were not men to change their customs suddenly. It would require a considerably advanced stage of civilization to enable them to see the advantages and the possibility of a wider unity, so as to be wdling to make the partial sacrifices neces sary to secure that more general object. In their cir cumstances, they were not only likely to adhere to their separate organizations, but it was in the highest degree expedient that the right of succession should be left in this measure open. Everything seemed to depend on the character of the man at the head of their affairs. Hence, when the next in succession was deemed incompetent, he might be superseded by the next, or by some remote kinsman. From these causes, the isolations of the Heptarchy, and the uncertainties of succession, would stand or fall together, and it is hard to say how much longer they would have con tinued to impede the general interest of the Germanic settlers in Britain, if new influences, supplying new motives, had not come into action. Tendencies One of these influences we find in the Northman unity. invasions. That event put an end to international feud, if it did not produce unity ; and, as we have said, favoured the rising power of Wessex. Another RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — EGBERT. 141 event, tending to the same result, we see in the intro- book ii. duction of Christianity. In the Christianity embraced Chap' 3" by the Anglo-Saxons the Roman element was predo minant, and that was in all respects an element of centralization. The civU law of Rome, and the eccle siastical law which had long been growing up beside it, did everything by means of a strong centralized power. Theodore, a Greek, who came early to the see of Canterbury, was intent on bringing all the churches of the Heptarchy under one scheme of discipline, so as out of them all to constitute in reality one church. Such an ignoring of the civil barriers by which each state was separated from the rest, was a strong antici pation of the time when all those states should con stitute one kingdom. WUfrid, bishop of York, a Saxon, filled the Heptarchy with disputes for more than forty years by his zeal for two objects ; first, to secure a strict uniformity in the religious observances of the churches in the different states ; and then to connect them all, as branches of one great national church, with the see of Rome. Men so earnest in working out such a policy, declared plainly that the monarchy over these churches which in their mind was the most expedient, was not a sevenfold monarchy, with its endless strifes, but a central power, that should be strong in its great principle of unity. How the impediments in the way of this consumma tion in the time of Egbert were subsequently removed will appear in the next chapter. CHAPTER IV. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY ATHELSTAN. book ii. TT7E have seen, that during several centuries, neither Chaf' 4' VV the Britons on the one hand, nor the Picts and Position of Scots on the other, had been, sufficientlv formidable as Mercia, and antagonists to dispose the Anglo-Saxon states towards briafin^e- any combined course of action from a sense of common lationto danger. But another cause of this indisposition the Britons o . i r> it • i-n and the towards union may be found where it has not hitherto been sought — viz., in the geographical positions of the several states of the Heptarchy towards each other. These positions were such as to fence off the whole border- land, both of the Welsh and of the Scots ; and each of the great Saxon states bordering on those bad neighbours judged itself competent to deal with its own foes along its own line of territory, and was dis posed to content itself with that wardenship as being properly its own. We read nothing accordingly of allied forces as carrying on the wars of the Wessex men westward, or of the Northumbrian men northward. Nor do we find the men of Mercia, whose lands lay between these two, acting at any time with either. The smaller states of the Heptarchy — Kent, Sussex, Essex, and East Anglia — were shut off, as we have shown, both from the Britons and the Scots, by the strong curved belt formed by the three greater states, Northumbria, Mercia, and Wessex. No force from Wales or Scotland could reach those lesser states without passing through the territory of these greater states. It was, in consequence, from the three more powerful Saxon states, and not from the Celt, either RISE OE THE ENGLISH MONARCHY— ATHELSTAN. 143 in the west or the north, that the four lesser states book ii. of the Heptarchy had to apprehend danger. Chap' 4' But a new foe is now about to assail both the ^°v^ °^ greater and the smaller kingdoms of Anglo-Saxon from the Britain. This foe is one who will seem to become only the more formidable the more he is resisted. He will necessitate a suspension of feuds. He will baffle in no smaU degree the best concentrated means that can be directed against him. The enemy, in this case, is a maritime enemy, and the sea-board of Bri tain is of great extent. The points of danger accord ingly are many, and widely apart, and seem to require that, the means of defence should be widely diffused. The great want of the exigency, accordingly, must be the want of confederation, and united action. But, from the nature of the attacks to be repelled, such action will be extremely difficult to realize. Every local force will be naturaUy disposed to look to its local interests and dangers. War between one Saxon state and another may come to an end, but combined operation for their common security will stUl be hard to accomplish. Had the concentration of the sovereignty in Anglo-Saxon Britain been realized earher, the new invader might have experienced such a reception as would have taught him to seek his booty or his home elsewhere. But the English monarchy had barely come into existence, when it became exposed to dangers that would have tasked its resources to the utmost had it been old and consoli dated. The power which was to prostrate everything in France, might weU prove formidable to the Saxons in Britain. Of the skiU which experience gives in working from a centre, our ancestors of those days knew little ; and the inteUigence and virtue necessary to subordinate the local to the general, prejudice to patriotism, was, as may be supposed, in a great degree wanting. Under the year 787 the Saxon Chronicle records the First de- marriage of Brittric, the predecessor of Egbert, toSSl^1?6 144 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Eadburga, the daughter of Offa, and then adds : ' In °HAP' 4' ', his days first came three ships of Northmen, out of ' Haerethaland.* And the reeve rode to the place, ' and would have driven them to the king's town, be- ' cause he knew not who they were, and they there ' slew him. These were the first ships of Danish ' men which sought the land of the English nation.' The next record of this description was in 794. Under that year we read : ' The Heathens ravaged among ' the Northumbrians, and plundered Egferth's monas- ' tery at Done-mouth ; and there one of their leaders ' was slain, and also some of their ships were wrecked ' by a tempest ; and many of them were there drowned, ' and some came on shore alive, and they were soon ' slain at the river's mouth.' These are our only notices of the descents of these ' Northmen — Danish ' men' — and ' Heathens,' as they are caUed, before the accession of Egbert. country of The people thus variously designated in the earliest the North- .¦*-¦*-. JO men— aim notices of them in our annals, were as diversified in cursions"1" origin as the above terms would suggest. The shores of the Baltic, including Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, with their numerous islands, formed the country from which they came. What the Saxons had been in the sixth century, the Danes had become, in nearly aU respects, in the ninth century— pirates ; but pirates capable of prosecuting their schemes of war and plunder upon a large scale, on the land or^ on the deep. After the first few experiments, their ob ject in visiting Britain appears to have been to secure a settlement in the country, but a settlement which they seem to have contemplated as to be made, not so much by subduing the natives, as by destroying them. causes of We know not the causes which prompted the first this move- * Lappenberg says that, by Hserethaland we are, probably, to ' under stand Hordeland in Norway, famed for its sea-kings, and which at a later period sent forth the unyielding discoverers of Iceland.' — Hist. ii. 12. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 145 great Saxon movement. The increase of numbers, book ii. the pressure of new tribes migrating westward, rival °"AP' 4' leaderships and convulsions — any, or all of these cir cumstances, might have contributed to give the stream of races the direction then taken by them. But we are not left so much in uncertainty in regard to the causes which disposed the Northmen to direct their course towards Britain, in preference to seeking a set tlement on shores nearer to their own. The con quests of Charlemagne in Germany, and the sternness with which he insisted that aU subdued by him to the condition of subjects, should profess themselves Chris- . tians, opposed a formidable barrier to migration south ward. A few years only had intervened since the achievements of Charlemagne in Germany, when these invaders begin to make their appearance in this country. It should be stated, also, that our own aristocratic law of primogeniture was rigorously en forced among those northern hordes. The eldest son inherited the property of the father. The younger sons were left to make acquisitions for themselves by such means as should appear to them expedient. Hence the Corsair life so commonly assumed among that people, and the ease with which a chief of capa city and daring could attract followers to his standard. The terrible scourge which came thus into action, passed along the shores of Flanders, Holland, France, and Ireland, and feU with memorable effect on Britain.* In 832 the Danes appeared in the Thames, ravaged the Isle of Sheppey, and retired unmolested with their spoU. In the year foUowing, an armament of. five- and- thirty vessels entered the Dart, and Egbert, after a stubborn engagement, was compeUed to leave the enemy master of the field. Two. years later, another force landed in CornwaU, and prevailed on some of the * Mallet's Northern Antiquities. Lappenberg, ii. 10-18, and note by Thorpe. Turner's Anglo-Saxons, i. book iv. c. 1, 2. I L 146 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Cornish Britons to join their ranks. But in the next CHAP" 4" battle victory was on the side of the Saxons. Egbert died the foUowing year.* o" 'the'0113 It was now evident that the object of the Danes Danes. was to secure a permanent footing in the country, and not simply to possess themselves of booty. Measures were taken to guard the coast more effectually. Mili tary officers were stationed from place to place, that on the approach of an enemy the armed men of the district might be assembled to resist a landing. In the first year of Ethelwulf, who succeeded his father Egbert, three separate armaments appeared off the coast of Britain. The king opposed himself to one of these, but with what success is unknown. The force which landed at Southampton was defeated by the men of Hampshire; but that which landed at Portland prevaded against the men of Dorset. The army which made its appearance in Lincolnshire in 838 was more powerful than any that had preceded it. The men who encountered the invaders perished by the sword or in the marshes ; and the enemy ravaged the country at pleasure from the Humber to the Thames. The next year battles were fought, with great loss of life, at Canterbury, Rochester, and near London. In 840 Ethelwulf led his men against a force which had landed from thirty-five ships, but was defeated. The next four years in the Saxon Chrcwicle are blank; but under the year 851 we find the following record: ' This year, Ceorl, the ealdorman, with the men of 'Devonshire, fought against the heathen men at ' Wicanbeorg, and there made great slaughter, and ' got the victory. And the same year king Athelstan, 'and Ealchere the ealdorman, fought on shipboard, ' and slew a great number of the enemy at Sandwich ' in Kent, and took nine ships, and put the others to ' flight ; and the heathen men remained for the first time * Chron. Sax. ad an. 832—836. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 147 ' over the winter in Thanet. And the same year came book ii. ' three hundred and fifty ships to the mouth of the CHAP' 4' ' Thames, and the crews landed and took Canterbury ' and London by storm, and put to flight Beorhtwulf, ' king of the Mercians, with his army, and then went ' south over the Thame into Surry ; and there king ' Ethelwulf and his son Ethelbald, with the army of ' the West Saxons, fought against them at Aclea ' [Ockley], and there made the greatest slaughter ' among the heathen army that we have heard reported ' to the present day.' But these partial successes did not free the country from the Northmen. In 853 there was destructive warfare in Thanet between the ' heathen men' on the one side, and the 'men of Kent and Sussex on the other ; and under the year 855 we find the following significant entry in the Chronicle above cited : ' This ' year the heathen men for the first time remained ' over the winter in Sheppey ; and the same year ' King Ethelwulf gave by charter the tenth of his ' land throughout the kingdom for the glory of God ' and his own eternal salvation. And the same year ' he went to Pome in great state, and dwelt there twelve ' months, and then returned homewards.' The reader wUl probably think that the king who could be absent from his domain for such a space of time, at such a season, and on such an errand, was not inaptly de scribed by Malmesbury, as a man more fitted to wear a cowl, than to wield a sceptre.* Ethelwulf died two years after his return from Rome. Ethelbald and Ethelbert, sons of Ethelwulf, had distinguished themselves in the resistance made to the Danes, and had given an appearance of vigour to the reign of their father which the king himself could * Dr. Lingard (Hist. i. 211 et seq.) takes exception to this censure of Malmesbury, and to soften the reproach cast upon Ethelwulf, and on the superstitious influences which made him what he was, the historian has represented the danger from the Northmen in this reign as much less than we know it to have been. — Chron. Sax. Asser, Vita Alfred. 148 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. never have imparted to it. But history gives us no chap^4. accomr|. 0f the military achievements of these princes during the short period of their sovereignty. Ethel bald reigned two years only; Ethelbert died in 865, having reigned five years. Ethelbert was succeeded by Ethelred, the third of the sons of Ethelwulf. Accession It is from the accession of Ethelred to the throne of Ethelred, ~ -nr , . . ¦, t . -, « brother of of Wessex, at a time when so much was expected from Alfred. "Wessex by the other states, that we have to date the most terrible successes and devastations of the North men. The struggle now becomes national. The question now' to be decided is, whether the Dane or the Saxon is to be the future possessor of England. From the armaments of the invader, it is clear that the- object of his enterprise is thus large. The Saxons were now made to feel that the danger affected all, and could be resisted only by a union embracing all. But the history of the ravages which become so wide-spread from this time has some antecedents that should be mentioned. story of In the last year of Ethelbert the Danes made a Loftao descent on Northumbria. That kingdom had assumed a sort of independence since the death of Egbert ; and at this time two chiefs, Osbert and Ella, had filled it with dissensions, as competitors for rule. EUa at once turned his arms against the Northmen, defeated them, and made their leader prisoner. It proved that these depredators were only a remnant of a much larger gathering, whose point of destination had been the coast of Britain. But many vessels .had been wrecked ; and the chief who had been captured, was found to be no other than Ragnar Lodbrog, a man whose deeds had made his name the terror of every coast from the Baltic to Ireland. Twenty years since he had ascended the Seine, made himself master of Paris, and surrendered it to the Franks on condition of receiving 7000 pounds of silver as the price of its ransom. Ella doomed the veteran marauder to death. He was cast into a dungeon of venomous snakes; and RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 149 the poetry of his people describes him as consoling book ii. himself in his suffering by predicting that the ' cubs' — ClIAF' 4' meaning his sons — would take good recompence for the loss of the ' boar.'* This was in 865. In the next year Inguar and Enterprise Ubbo, sons of Ragnar, found themselves at the head and^bho. of twenty thousand men, who were ready to share the fortunes of their chiefs, and to avenge the fate of their father. The armament appears to have been driven past the coast of Northumbria by unfavourable winds. But a landing was secured without opposition on the neighbour coast of East Anglia. This army, great as it may seem, was not deemed equal to the object con templated. The winter of 866-7 was hi great part occupied in securing reinforcements, in coUecting horses for cavalry, and in attempting to sow disunion among the natives. In February, the invaders began their march to wards Northumbria, and in a fortnight they had fixed their head-quarters in Tork. Osbert and EUa, laying aside their differences, joined in an attack upon the enemy in the neighbourhood of that city. The onset was in favour of the assailants; but in the fight within the city the courage of the Northmen became desperate, Osbert and tbe most distinguished of his foUowers were slain, and it was the fate of Ella to fall alive into the hands of the sons of Ragnar. His ribs were severed, his lungs were torn through the crevice thus made, and salt was thrown on the wounds. This kind of death, horrible as it may seem, was not un common among the Northmen. From that day England north of the Humber may be said to have been subdued. An army was stationed at York to secure the possession, and to protect in some measure the industry of the country ; whUe a second, and a much larger army, directed its way southward. *Asser, Vita Alf. Chron. Sax. Saxo Grammat. 176. Turner's Anglo-Saxons, book iv. c. 3. 150 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. But at Nottingham the progress of this force was °HAP' 4' checked. The army opposed to it was one of great IthNotthf strength. It was led by the king of Mercia, and by ham. ' " Ethelred and his brother Alfred, from Wessex". The Northmen shrank from the hazard of an engagement, and surrendered the place on condition of being allowed" to retrace their steps northward. The Danes from Nottingham then rejoined their countrymen at York.* But the check thus given to the enemy was tran sient. The three years which followed before the accession of Alfred to the throne of Wessex, were years of memorable calamity to the people of Saxon Britain. Inguar, renowned for his far-seeing craft, and Ubbo, no less renowned for his ferocious bravery, led their forces, without opposition, through Mercia into East Anglia. Another horde of adventurers, in the meantime, landed at Lindsey in Lincolnshire, who possessed themselves of the rich monastery of Bar- deney, plundered it, razed it to the ground, and put all the inmates to the sword, f Battle of In the absence of Burhed, the king of Mercia, who chose to be otherwise employed, Algar, a young ealdorman, celebrated for his patriotism and courage, is said to have summoned the bolder men of the marshes to his standard. Many obeyed his caU, even monks are described as exchanging the cowl for the helmet, and as resolved to defend their Christian homes to the last against the merciless pagans. Tolius, a lay brother of high military reputation, led the contingent of this description from the Abbey of Croyland. The chivalrous men thus brought together faced the enemy at a place caUed Kesteven. In the desperate encounter on that spot three Danish kings were slain, and Algar and his foUowers chased the Danes to the entrance of their camp. Night then Kesteven. * Chron. Sax, Asser. ' Snorre, 108. Pet. Olaus, 1 1 1 . f Sax. Chron. Asser. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 151 came on. In the morning came the alarming tidings book ii. that five kings and five jarls had reached the Danish HAP' 4' camp during the night. Three-fourths of Algar's men now deemed their condition hopeless, and fled. But the smaU band left took the sacrament from the ecclesiastics, now their companions in arms, and re solved to oppose themselves to the last to the odds against them. The Danes buried their slaughtered kings, and then sharpened their weapons for the revenge to follow. But the wings and centre of the Saxons were found to be immoveable. So weU had they chosen their position, and such was their steady bravery, that through the whole day they defended themselves against showers of arrows, and the heavy swords of their assailants. Towards evening the Danes feigned a retreat. Algar had cautioned his men against this stratagem. But it was in vain. They descended in chase of the foe — and then began the carnage. For now they were encompassed by numbers, and the Saxons feU on every side. Algar and Tolius, indeed, with a few faithful adherents, regained the hUl-side, and there kept the enemy at bay, until, covered with wounds, their bodies were added to the heaps of the slain. The few youths who gave report of this tragedy to the monks of Croyland, were the only survivors. From that battle-field the ' heathen army ' might Destructive be tracked by the conflagrations which marked its ™e Dhanes. way. The wealthy abbeys of Croyland and Medes- hamstede were destroyed, and no lives that could be reached were spared. The head of the abbot of Croy land was struck off on the steps of the altar. In storming Medeshamstede a son of Ragnar was wounded; and, to avenge it, Ubbo, his brother, is said to have inflicted the death-wound on the abbot and eighty monks with his own hand. Huntingdon and Ely shared the fate of the places above named. The nuns of Ely, who were many of them from 152 SAXONS AND DANES. The East- AnglianDanes in vade Wes- book ii. wealthy and noble famUies, suffered indignities worse HAP"4' than death. Thetford was the next place taken, and that also was given to the flames. The good king ofKi?g0m Edmund opposed them in vain, and met a martyr's Edmund, death at their hands. The name of St. Edmund stands high in the Roman calendar in after ages. East Anglia now ceased to be a Christian state. The pagan leader Guthorm claimed it as his own. Mercia had shown nothing of its ancient prowess in this hour of trial. It rested with the West Saxons to deter mine the race and the faith that should obtain in the future of Britain.* We have said that the Northmen now invaded Britain in such numbers as to show that their object was not so much transient plunder as a settlement. But no country could be productive under such masters. With them, to possess was to impoverish. Moreover, their restless and roving habits, after a short interval of quiet, often became too strong to be controUed by their new resolutions. Nor was it pos sible that they should be without some sense of danger, so long as a large portion of the country remained in the hands of a people who might possibly become strong, and who would not faU to be intensely dis posed to use their strength in avenging the wrongs of the past. Some of these barbarian hordes, accord ingly, having secured their booty, returned for a season to their homes ; while others, who might have been expected to settle in the acquisitions they had * That the Danes marched over the territory above named, and left upon it the terrible traces of their presence, we learn from the Saxon Chronicle, Asser, and other sources. But for the particulars concerning Algar, and the battle of Kesteven, we are indebted to the more doubtful authority of the history attributed to Ingulf. I am disposed, however, on many grounds, rather to credit than distrust that narrative in this instance. It describes nothing which is not characteristic of the historical personages named, and of the struggle generally between the belligerents. In this case there was nothing to be gained by invention, and the substance of the narrative is certainly truthftd. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY— ATHELSTAN. 153 made, are found seeking new excitement in new book ii. adventures. ClIAP" 4" Under such influences, in the early part of the year 871, a large division of the 'heathen army' in East Anglia directed their course towards the lands of the West Saxons. This army was led by the two kings Bagseg and Halfdene, by Guthorm, by two dis tinguished chiefs named Sidroc, and by the jarls — or earls — Osbearn, Frene, and Harald. They ascended the Thames in their ships, and sending off detach ments in different directions, overran the coast-lands and the south provinces of the West Saxon territory in great multitudes. The main division penetrated as far as Reading, in Berkshire, and made themselves mas ters of that place, as a favourable point from which to convey their plunder by means of the river to the sea. On the third day after their arrival, a part of this The division mounted their horses, and sallied forth into Etkeiwui? the country in search of spoil. The other part re mained in the town, and occupied themselves in strengthening its fortifications. The men of Wessex had not expected such visitors at so early a season. But Ethelwulf, an ealdorman qf that district, called aU possessed of arms in his neighbourhood together, and determined to attack the marauders before they should rejoin their confederates at Reading. He met them at a place called Englafield. In the resolute encounter which foUowed, one of the jarls was slain, and the rest were put to flight.* Four days later, king Ethelred and his brother Battle of Alfred appeared before the walls of Reading. The Keading- Danes were slow to accept the challenge thus given to them. But whUe the Saxons were busy in forming an encampment, the enemy rushed forth upon them, and took them by surprise. The battle which ensued was obstinate. The prospect of victory changed for some time from side to side. In the end the heathen Chron. Sax. 871. Asser, Vit. Alf. 154 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. men prevailed, and the body of the brave ealdorman ^Oz?' Ethelwulf was among those who had faUen.* Battle of Enough, however, had taken place to show that the Ashdune. me]i Q£. Wessex were Hkely tp furnish much graver employment to their enemies than had been imposed upon them in the other Saxon states, f Four days only had passed when Ethehed and Alfred were again prepared to take the field. Their place of meeting was Ashdune (or Aston) in Berkshire. The battle on that spot was a real trial of strength. The Danes felt that it became them to avail themselves of every possible advantage. The position' they had taken was on an eminence, crowned with a short thick underwood, from which, as a kind of breastwork, it would be easy to gall the Saxons in attempting to reach the summit. Alfred was early at the foot of the hill, and prompt in his preparations for, the fray. But Ethelred was at mass, and though apprised that the moment for action had come, refused to move until the last word should be pronounced by the priest. The king should have given the order for battle, but Alfred, having waited until waiting longer became perUous, raised the signal, and speedily the weapons of his followers were in full play upon the enemy. The fight became stubborn — destructive — hand to hand. Ethelred soon joined his division, and charged boldly on the men under the kings Bagseg and Halfdene. Brave deeds were done by the North men on that day, but braver by the Saxons. At length the former began to waver, the Saxons rushed on with new courage, and the slaughter which ensued is described by ancient writers as the greatest England had ever witnessed. Ethehed slew the king Bagseg with his own hand. Among the dead were the two Sidrocs, the three jarls Osbearn, Frene, and Harald, with many more who were accounted the flower and hope of the Northmen. The Saxons chased the fugir, * Chron. Sax. a.d. 871. Asser, Vita Alf. f Ibid. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 155 tives from Aston to Reading, strewing the whole way book ii. with the slain.* ' Chap'4' But the calamity of these times was, that to sweep off these barbarians on any scale seemed to be to little purpose. The void of to-day was filled up with swarms of new-comers to-morrow. The hive which sent them forth seemed to be inexhaustible. Thus, within a few weeks after the battle of Ashdune, came another at Basing in Hampshire, and another at Merton, near to Ashdune. In these engagements the West Saxons acquitted themselves with their wonted abUity and courage ; but many of the bravest among them feU, and the enemy, though in neither case a victor, in both cases, to use the language of the old chronicle, ' kept the place of carnage.' It was at this juncture of affairs that Ethehed breathed his last — whether from wounds or natural causes is uncertain. His conduct on the whole had been such as to entitle him to the esteem and affection of his subjects. It is in such circumstances that Alfred, since known as the ' great,' comes to the possession of kingly power, f The character and the reign of Alfred have many Accession claims to our attention. Our concern in this place is simply with the mUitary events of his career, and their result. The sons of Ethelred were children; and there was much in the past, and everything in the present, to prepare men for seeing in Alfred the natural successor to the throne. In place of the court pageants usual on an acces- increased sion, the scenes awaiting the new king were such as th^Danes. menaced everything most valued by himself and his subjects. The strife before them was deadly, its issue to the last degree doubtful. Soon after the battle of Merton, strong reinforcements joined the army at - Reading. Bolder incursions were made into the neighbouring country. Weeks passed, and Alfred * Asser, a.d. 871. Chron. Sax. t Asser, 21-24. Chron. Sax. a.d. 871. Elor. Wigorn. 156 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. found it impossible to raise an army capable of meet Chap' 4' ing such an enemy. His loss from the odds opposed to him at Wilton added to the discouragement of his subjects, and to the sense of weakness which weighed at this time on his own spirit. In twelve months, eight regular engagements had taken place, besides almost incessant skirmishing. Great had been the losses of the Northmen, but great also had been the losses of the king. In the meanwhile Alfred's supplies of men, expert in the use of the weapons of war, did not keep pace with those of his enemies ; nor was he at liberty to resort to plunder to replenish his exchequer. The issue was, that in the first year of his reign he consented, along with his thanes, to buy off the in vaders. But it soon became known that aU such compacts with that people were worse than useless. The Mercians had tried the expedient. It impo verished them without giving them the promised security. In 874 that once powerful kingdom ceased to exist. In that year, Burhed, its last king, sought an asylum in Rome. One Ceolwulf was set up by the Danes in his stead, but was used, as the Romans often used such men, as a tool to bear the odium of their own extortions. Many of the Danes now settled in that country, and gave names to the localities of their choice which have descended to our times.* From 875 to 878 the gloom thickened over Anglo- Saxon Britain. The old districts being exhausted, the pirate hordes began the exploring of new ground. A second effort was made to bribe them to a distance, and to bind them by special means to their promise ; but the same perfidy foUowed. They possessed them selves of Wareham and Exeter, as places of strength, and places whence they might readily descend to the sea with such spoil as they should obtain. Alfred During these troubled years, however, the naval fleet. history of England may be said to have commenced. * Chron, Sax. A.P. 871-874, Asser, 34^=36, RISE OE THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 157 Alfred buUt or collected a number of Ships, manned book ii. them with brave seamen, and by this means destroyed Chap' 4' the greater part of a Danish fleet, which had been driven by foul weather on the coast of Dorset. This was in 877. The armament thus scattered or annihi lated, was destined for the relief of Exeter. The be sieged, seeing no chance of succour, capitulated, giving hostages to abstain from further hostilities in Wessex. But, reaching Gloucester, they renewed the work of pUlage and destruction. The impoverished condition to which they had reduced all the Saxon kingdoms, prompted the banditti which now covered the land, to explore the barren homes of the Welsh, and of the Picts and Scots. But that proved a bootless errand. The last effort made at this crisis against these sons of the destroyer, was at Kynwith, where a feeble garrison resisted a rigorous siege, and surprising the besiegers in a saUy, destroyed more than a thou sand of them. And now the time had come in which the high spirit of the Saxon race appeared to have for saken them. Many fled with such moveables as they could take with them to other countries ; the rest seem to have learned to look on their unhappy condi tion as a destiny, and to submit.* Popular feeling is ever liable to these alternations. ^ioTSs Its excesses in elevation and depression come from the order and same cause. To yield to the pressure of the many, depressl0n' whether for good or evil, is natural to man. Where aU seem to obey, it is hard for the individual to resist. But there are some noble natures to whom such self-sustaining power is given, and who can hope where hope seems to have forsaken all beside. Alfred the king was one of these. He might have gathered his staff together, and have found high military ser vice in other lands ; or he might have journeyed as a pilgrim to that old Rome upon whose shrines he had gazed in his boyhood. In that ease, what would have * Chron. Sax. a.d. 873-877. Asser, 24-29. 158 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. been the future of English history ? The old northern chai\4. paganism — which the Saxon had abandoned — would have again become ascendant. The religion of the Cross would probably have ceased. The barbaric cus toms of Scandinavia would have found a new home in Britain. The near prospect of that powerful Eng lish monarchy, towards which so many influences had seemed to be converging, would have vanished. This island might have become, and have long continued, the great rendezvous of sea-kings — the base from which they would have gone forth to spread their devasta tions, superstitions, and barbarisms over the fairest provinces of Europe. Alfred could believe that this was not to be. He could have faith in God. To prevent such calamity, he could watch his last watch, offer his last prayer, do his last possible deed. It is clear that he must have thought it possible that even from this state of things there might be a return, and that it behoved him to be vigilant, patient, and ready. The selfish did not rule in this man — but the humane, the patriotic, the religious ; and he has his reward. The seeds of the coming England were in that great heart ; though its ground-spring of action, we can readdy suppose, was a simple sense of duty. Alfred During the winter of 877 - 8 the king concealed himself retreat. " among the woods and lowlands of Somersetshire. Mise rable was the shelter there found, and difficult often was it to obtain the poorest means of subsistence for himself and his few faithful foUowers. But with the new life of the spring-time came new hope to the fugitives. We meddle not now with the traditionary or the doubtful. Suffice it to say, that in the spring of 878 Alfred quitted his retreat at Athelney, and called the faithful men of the district to his standard, and that he soon found himself surrounded by a brave and loyal host, who gazed upon -their king as upon one who had been dead and was alive again. Some weeks passed in collecting greater numbers, in severe military exer- RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 159 cises, and in some successful skirmishing. Wilts and book ii. Hants, as well as Somerset, sent their supplies of CHAP' 4' men and means. The head-quarters of the Danes was at Chippenham. Battle of Alfred marched in that , direction. But the place Ethadune- where the two armies met was Ethadune, probably Edington, near Westbury, in Wiltshire. The White ' Horse on the side of Edington HiU, seen at different points to a distance of many mUes across the vale be neath, is stiU recognised by the traveUer as commemo rative of the death-struggle which once raged on that eminence. The conflict was desperate on the part of the Danes, but decisive on the side of the Saxons. The Northmen were chased from that high border of Sahsbury Plain, down the slope towards Chip penham, and no quarter was- given. Chippenham itself was besieged, and after fourteen days was com peUed to capitulate. The veteran Guthorm, the com mander of the Danes in that place, some weeks later, professed himself a Christian. His chiefs for the most part foUowed his example. Alfred himself stood sponsor for his old enemy, and, though the passions of the past returned upon him at times with great force, and rendered him stUl in some degree unfaithful to the trust reposed in him, Guthorm ended his days in comparative tranquiUity, as the possessor of East Anglia, and stUl adhering to his new faith. Before his decease, the heathenism he had introduced had nearly disappeared.* Alfred deemed it wise to favour the disposition Alfred's of the Danes to remain in the land, stipulating, Guthorm! however, as the condition, that they should con form themselves to the order and habits of settled and civilized communities. He appears to have thought that men so acquiring a home in the country, would come by degrees to.have their own motives for resisting further invasion ; and that mixing graduaUy * Chron. Sax. a.d. 878. Asser, 31 et seq. 160 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. with the Saxons, they would contribute to the stabdity CHAP' 4' of the throne, and to the future unity and progress of the nation. The mischiefs of this policy were great, but possibly those of a contrary course would have been greater. Effects of "We have seen that the invasions of the Northmen Whthe began to be formidable in the reign of Egbert. The Danes. battle of Ethadune brought eighty years of war and destruction to a temporary close.* Great was the check given to all things conducive to social progress by these devastations. The previous wars of the Heptarchy, frequent and pregnant with evil as they were, had not been inconsistent with signs of improve ment, both in social and religious life. But on all this the Danish invasions came as the hand of a destroyer. One good, however, came out of this wide march of evil. The reconstruction of the Hep tarchy was impossible. Its machinery had been so crushed, its elements had been so consumed, that no one could hope to succeed in attempting to replace it, or anything resembling it. Northumbria, partly from the ravages of the Northmen, and partly from its own dissensions, had almost ceased to be a kingdom. The same was still more true of Mercia. Wessex, with its race of Cerdic represented in Alfred, became the destined centre of unity for the coming time. The natural course of the smaller eastern states was, that they should avail themselves of the safety which the weak may derive from their friendly relations to the strong. Alfred's The years of peace which Alfred had won by suc- precautions. ceggfui wax^ were sedulously and wisely employed in adding to the mUitary strength of his dominions. Mercia he had assigned to the able oversight of the ealdorman Ethelred, his, son-in-law. The Welsh princes readily acknowledged his authority ; and the * The arms of the Northmen were now turned mainly towards Prance. Chron. Sax. A.D. 881-887. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 161 East Anglian and Northumbrian Danes were, in effect, book ii. if not in form, subject to it.* ClIAP'4' Nothing less than the precaution thus taken could The inva. have saved the kingdom from the hands of the North- Hastings!' men towards the close of the reign of Alfred. Has tings, a Danish chief who had traversed Gaul and other countries almost at pleasure during the last forty years, resolved in 893 to attempt the establish ment of a kingdom for himself in Britain. His armaments were commensurate with his design. One fleet of eighty ships, conducted by Hastings himself, ascended the Swale, and took up its position on the northern coast of Kent ; the other, consisting of two hundred ' and fifty ships, landed its warriors on the south coast, near the point now known as Romney Marsh. Alfred took possession of a. high ground between these opposite points, and brought so much sagacity to his plans, that the movements of his anta gonists, expert and treacherous as they proved, were thoroughly counter-worked. Baffled and scattered, they succeeded in making their devastations visible in widely distant parts of the island; but their great scheme, after three years of toU, frustration, and loss, ended in faUure. The Northumbrian and East Anglian Danes became so far the partisans of Has tings as to suggest the expediency of measures that should secure a less doubtful allegiance from that quarter. Guthorm was now dead; and Hastings subsequently found his home in the city of Chartres, the adjacent territory being ceded to him, on certain feudal conditions, by Charles the Simple. f In England, the Danes were now the dangerous saxons element. Not a few of them had learnt to live peace- ga"^"' ably ; but it was evident that their old propensities were JJ™Jhe so strong in others as to dispose them to join almost any standard which promised them a greater measure * Asser, 36 et seq. Chron. Sax. a.d. 886, 894. f Chron. Sax. a.d. 894, 895. Asser. Ethelwerd. Flor. Wigorn. ad an. 893, 894. 1 M 16~2 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. of independence and licence. With regard to organi- °HAP" 4' zation and government, however, the Danes were in the ninth century very much what the Saxons had been in the fifth and sixth centuries. Experience had made them familiar with the action of small con federacies. Combined action on a large scale they had to learn as time and circumstances only could teach them. On this material point the education of the Anglo-Saxons, as forced upon ,them by the events of the last four centuries, gave them a decided ad vantage. power of Under Edward, the son and successor -of Alfred, a!nd"of the Anglo-Saxons availed themselves of this advantage Athelstan. ^^ j^^g^ effect. Before his death in 924, Edward had fully subdued the disaffected in the East- Anglian states and in Northumbria, had annexed Mercia for maUy to Wessex, and was the acknowledged sovereign of a larger territory than had owned the authority of the most fortunate of his predecessors.* But if the authority of Edward exceeded that of the most potent among his precursors, the authority of Athel stan, who next ascended the throne of Cerdic, was stdl more weighty and extended. He asserted his sovereignty, and with success, over Northumbria. He taught the Britons of Wales and CornwaU the expediency of submission. Even the king of Scotland was among his dependents. invasion Great, however, as was this power of Athelstan, a Aniaff. crisis came in which he needed all his resources. He had given his daughter Editha in marriage to a North man named Sightric, who had come to be possessed of a kind of royalty over Northumbria. Sightric died within a year after his marriage and his baptism. Athelstan then seized on Northumbria in right of his daughter. But Aniaff, one of the sons of Sightric, was not disposed to submit to this summary proceed ing. He fled before the power of Athelstan at the Chron. Sax. a.d. 901—924. Ingulph. 28. RISE OF THE ENGLISH MONARCHY — ATHELSTAN. 163 time. But about ten years later he appeared in the book ii. Humber as the commander of a fleet consisting of CttAP' 4" more than six hundred vessels. The warriors in this confederation were mostly sea-kings and their followers, but ultimately the army included many Northumbrian Danes, with larger contingents from the Scots and the Britons. The two armies met at Brunanburgh in Northum- Battle of ' bria. The numbers were greater than had been op- burgh"" posed to each other on the same field in British his tory since the issue of the struggle between the Celts and the Romans. The battle of Brunanburgh raged from morning until evening ; but victory was with the Saxons. Aniaff escaped. Among the dead were five sea-kings and seven jarls, besides a son of the king of Scotland. The issue of that day made Athel- Athelstan stan truly 'King of England.' Egbert, and even England." Alfred and Edward, ruled England as kings of Wessex. But the monarchy of Cerdic now absorbed every other within the limits of the country to which the name of England has since been given.* * Chron. Sax. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii, 26, M 2 tion. CHAPTER V. RISE OF THE DANISH MONA-RCHY. book n. A THELSTAN was succeeded by his half-brother -!!Hi ' xjL Edmund, then about eighteen years of age. Ed- ^cMeds mund had acquired reputation as a soldier at Brunan- Atheistan burgh. But the fear which the genius of Athelstan Danish ™ D iusurrec- had inspired having passed away, the Danes of Northumbria invited Aniaff to try his fortune anew in England. The Danes of Mercia, and many in East Anglia, it is said, joined in the revolt. Even Wulfstan, the archbishop of Tork, played the traitor. Edmund encountered the enemy at Tamworth. The issue there was in favour of the insurgents. The scale, however, soon turned to the other side. The king besieged the rebels in Leicester ; and so menacing were his approaches, that Aniaff and Wulfstan made their escape by night. The end was, that through the intervention of Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, himself the son of a Dane who had fought against Alfred, Aniaff was permitted to retain the 'sovereignty of the territory north of the Watling Street, and Edmund was re- concUed to Wulfstan. But Aniaff died soon after wards ; and the two chiefs, Aniaff and Regnald, wTho were aUowed to divide his territory between them, were finaUy deprived of their sovereignty by Edmund, who declared himself master of Northumbria. The policy and the arms of Edmund were at length equaUy successful in the affairs of Wales and Scotland.* Edmund had reigned six years only when he fell * Chron, Sax. a.d. 941-946. Flor. Wigorn. ad an. 924 et seq, Ethelwerd, chap. vi. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 7. RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. 165 by the dagger of Leof, an outlaw, during a religious book ii. festival at Pucklechurch in Gloucestershire. He left CnAP' 5' two sons ; but they were young children, and the Witan chose Edred his brother to be king. Edred Edred— was crowned by Archbishop Odo at Kingston. As inquietude usual, the first trouble of the new sovereign came from No^thum- the Danes of the northern counties. The nine years brian of his reign were almost whoUy occupied in quelhng insurrection and faction in that part of his dominions. But from this time we may date the final subjection of Northumbria. The death of Edred was the result of a disease from which he had suffered so long and so greatly, that the successes of his reign were attri buted mainly to the able services of the notorious Dunstan, and to the wisdom of Turketul, the accre dited minister of his affairs.* Edwy, the eldest son of Edmund, now became king. Edwy— His reign is chiefly remarkable from the feud between pwer7 him and the ecclesiastics of his time, especially with Dunstan. But these circumstances belong to the reli gious history of this period. It must suffice to say in this place, that a reign of two short years in the history of this unhappy prince, was more than enough to show that the time had come in which the civU power attempting to sustain itself in independence of the ecclesiastical, would need to be a power exercised with no ordinary firmness and sagacity.f Before the death of Edwy, Edgar, his younger Edgar— an brother, had taken possession of Mercia. He now rest"*1 °f became king, and is designated in history as ' the ' peaceful.' Not that he was incapable of military enterprise, nor that his reign passed away without an unsheathing of the sword. But Edgar, though dissolute enough in his habits, was careful to profit * Chron. Sax. a.d. 946 et seq. Florence Wigorn. ad an. 95.5—958. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 7. t For the Romanist version of the quarrel between Edwy and St. Dunstan see Dr. -Lingard i for a more faithful version of the affair see Lappenberg. 166 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. by the experience of his brother, and to make friends HAP' 5' of the ecclesiastics. He did much also to concdiate the foreign settlers in Britain, by ceding to them pri- vile'ges in accordance with their national usages. Above all, he raised a powerful navy to guard the shores of his dominions. His ships, divided into several armaments, went forth every spring "to protect the coast against further descents from the vessels of the Northmen. The king himself saded from year to year with them. By this time the most famous of the sea-kings had found settlements in various coun tries. The north was more quiet than it had been for some generations past. And such adventurers as might be disposed towards new enterprises were taught by these signs of preparation to avoid the shores of Britain. Edgar was a man of inteUigence and firm ness, but as he died when not more than thirty years of age, these measures warrant us in supposing that he was influenced in his policy by heads of more ex perience than his own. In the ballad hterature of the time he was lauded as the most powerful king that England had known.* Edward the Edgar left two sons, Edward and Ethelred ; the first thirteen, years of age, the second seven. Factions, civil and ecclesiastical, embroded the commencement of the reign of Edward ' the Martyr.' In this fact, together with his murder, at the bidding of his step mother Elfrida, whUe refreshing himself on a hunting excursion at her castle-gate, we possess nearly all we know concerning this iU-fated prince. Corfe Castle became memorable from this deed. Edward was then in the eighteenth year of his age, and the third of his reign, f Ethelred, the son of Elfrida, was now the only re- Ethelred the Un ready. * Chron. Sax. a.d. 957 et seq. Florence Wigorn. ad an. 960—975- Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 8. There is much in the reign of Edgar that seems to confirm the account in Ingulf of the high capacity and influence ofTurketul. t Chron. Sax. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 9. RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. 167 maining prince of the blood. The fact that he was the book ii. son of the woman who had murdered his predecessor ClIAP" 5' was felt as a difficulty. But it was not deemed a sufficient ground for precluding him from the throne at the hazard of a civil war. The reign which had thus commenced in crime, is memorable for its shame and its disasters. If man could overlook blood- guiltiness, Providence seemed not so to do. The thirty-eight years during which Ethelred was king, are more fuU of suffering and humiliation than the like interval in any other period of English history. The Northmen begin to descend anew on the coast, in greater or smaller numbers, from year to year. After a while, no province, from the Land's End to the Orkneys, or from East Anglia to St. Davids, is found to be secure from their approach. Everywhere they repeat the plunder, the devastation, and the merciless destruction of human life, which had marked the path of their precursors two centuries since. In the mean while attempts to concentrate the force of the coun try for its common safety are so feebly prosecuted, and are so easUy frustrated by local factions and selfish considerations, that failure follows upon failure in sickening succession. Instances of individual or local courage and self-devotion occur, but end in nothing, from the want of such a central influence as might secure unity by inspiring confidence. The command of such forces as were raised, was entrusted, for the most part, to men who, from their Danish origin, their Danish connexions, or other causes, betray, one after another, the confidence reposed in them.; and, strange to say, are seen rising to new responsibilities only to repeat their old treasons. Cruel to the weak, Ethelred was a craven before the strong. Seasons that should have been employed in coUecting and marshalling the strength of his kingdom, were surrendered to selfish and sensuous indulgence. Too ready was he to be lieve that the enemy with whom he had to do was one who might be bribed to seek other quarters, or at 168 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. least into forbearance and quiet as settlers. Large chapes, sums were collected for this purpose, from time to time ; but the oaths exacted from the men who re ceived them were forgotten almost as soon as uttered. By this wretched policy Ethelred became a tool in the hands of the enemy, by whose means the plunder of his own subjects was made more easy and effectual than would otherwise have been possible. Massacre of Twenty-four years had passed since the accession of the Danes, jj^jgij-g^ an(j the greater part of those years marked by the circumstances above mentioned, when the king resolved on a deed which has covered him with infamy, and which, as might have been foreseen, was to bring heavy retribution in its train. It was no secret that the Saxons regarded the Danes resident among them with distrust and hatred. The relation of these people to the common enemy ; and still more the fact that they had generaUy shown themselves much more disposed to favour than to repel the invaders, had given a special intensity to the feeling ordinarily separating race from race.* Ethelred, it would seem, had ceased to expect fidelity from this class of his subjects ; and, to save himself from the machinations of traitors within the camp, he determined that an attempt should be made utterly to destroy them. In the spring of the year 1003 secret orders were issued, that on the approaching religious festival in honour of St. Brice, the Saxons should fall unawares upon the Danes, and put them to death. The orders were kept secret ; and on the appointed day the mas sacre ensued, the fury of the populace in many places adding not a httle cruelty to the work of destruction. It is supposed that the Danes must have numbered at this time nearly a third of the inhabitants of En gland. We may be sure, therefore, that this destruc tion was rather local than general. It has been * Ulfkytel, the ruler of East Anglia, was the only Dane who, in the language of Malmesbury, ' resisted the invaders with any degree of spirit,' in the reign of Ethelred. — De Beg. lib. ii. c. 10. RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. 169 thought that the Danes whose removal was medi- bookii. tated, were those only who, as retainers to the nobles, Chap' s' wore arms, and who had so often turned the arms entrusted to them to traitorous uses. But if such was the limit of the project, in execution it passed beyond those bounds. Where the massacre took place, neither sex nor age was spared. Among the victims was a distinguished Northman named Palig. This man had repaid the bounty of Ethelred by fighting under the standard of his enemies. Palig and his chUdren were all doomed to die. Gunhilda, his wife, was a sister of Sweyn, the great Danish chieftain ; and in submitting with heroic dignity to her fate, after wit nessing the death of her husband and her son, she is said to have predicted that aU England would have ere long to meet a weighty reckoning for the deeds of that day.* The next year Sweyn made his appearance in Eng- sweyn's in land at the head of a powerful army. Exeter, through the treachery of its commander, passed into his hands. During four years, the country, with the exception of some fortified places, was wholly at his mercy. Everywhere he came as an avenger — not only to plunder, but to consume by fire, and to cut down with the sword. At the end of the fourth year he con sented to leave the island on condition of receiving thirty-six thousand pounds of sUver; and that sum was paid to him. But the armv under Swevn had no sooner departed, invasion it ja. l £¦ • j -i underThur- than another, no less ferocious, appeared under cwi. Thurchil. This chief affected to seek vengeance for the death of a brother, as Sweyn had sought it for the death of a sister. Another three years of un checked exposure to Danish spohation and cruelty now awaited the unhappy country. Elphege, the good archbishop of Canterbury, was doomed to see the people, the town, and the cathedral of Canterbury * Chron. Sax. Florence Wigorn. ad an. 1002. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 10. 170 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. destroyed by these demons, and then to perish himself HAP"5' by their hands, from the blows inflicted on him whUe in their cups. Could he have descended to save his life by paying the price which had been fixed upon it, he might have been spared. Having ravaged half the kingdom, ThurchU consented to enter the service of Ethehed for the sum of fortyreight thousand pounds. This proposal was accepted, and the greater part of his followers showed a disposition to settle in the country. second in- Sweyn had secretly consented to this invasion by sweyn.b7 ThurchU. But it did not accord with his plans that the result should be of this nature. He had sworn on the death of his sister to possess himself of the sovereignty of England. He now coUected a force which promised to be equal to such an enterprise. The splendour as weU as the greatness of this arma ment was a favourite theme with the poets ofthe age. The northern provinces submitted without resistance, and the Danish inhabitants rendered aid to their coun trymen. Marching northward, where the conqueror expected opposition, his instructions were that the towns should be given to the flames, that the churches should be deprived of everything valuable, and that every male should be put to the sword. And these mandates were fully acted upon. Ethelred and ThurchU shut themselves up within the waUs of London, which held out against every stratagem of the besiegers. But in all other directions the approach of the Northmen scared away resistance. sweyn pro- Sweyn retired to Bath. He there proclaimed him- claims him- -ip-i. p-nii t t-i -ip self king, self king of England, and summoned the chief men of Wessex to meet him in that place, and to swear allegiance to him. Even the capital began to waver in its fidelity; so that Ethelred sent his famUy to Normandy, and sought concealment himself in the Isle of Wight. But in less than a month from the time when the prospects of the English monarch had become thus gloomy, Sweyn died. Sweyn named his RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. 171 son Canute as his successor. The English rallied book ii. around Ethehed, and Canute was obhged to make a HAP' 5' precipitate retreat from the country. In the foUowing year Canute returned, with a fleet invasion by and army described in glowing terms by ancient writers. ThurchU had sought his pardon, and had obtained it. But Ethelred the ' Unready ' had done nothing to prepare himself for this exigency. The vengeance he took on the naturalized Northmen, both by sword and by assassination, only added to the dangers of his position. Edmund, wearied apparently by this incompetency, assumed independence of his father ; but faded to coUect a force sufficient to war rant his attempting to measure his strength with the enemy. -The army of Edmund quartered itself in the northern counties, while that under Canute roamed unimpeded through the south. Affairs had come to this pass when Ethehed breathed his last in London. Edmund, who was with him in his sickness, was pro claimed king by the citizens.* Had Edmund become king of England some forty Edmund's years earlier, in the place of his father, it is probable SancTof that in him the peaceful and prosperous reign of Edgar *ed^anes would have been perpetuated. The resources of the Canute. country at that time would have sufficed, under proper management, to have kept the Northmen at bay ; and free action being thus secured to the springs of in ternal prosperity, England might have known nothing of a Danish dynasty, or of a Norman conquest. So general and so deep was the distrust of Ethelred during the latter years of his reign, that the national spirit appeared to have become extinct. The North men had learnt to despise the natives, even when ten to one. But with the accession of Edmund the most inert became active, and a people who seemed to have lost aU heart are seen rising into heroism. * Chron. Sax. Flor. Wigorn. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii.c. io. Hunt ing, v. 205, 206. Westmin. 201, 202. 172 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. London alone had been strong enough to resist the i^Lf' invader. Canute now invested it with an army of twenty-seven thousand men. But Edmund passed through the enemies' ships in a boat by night. His caU to the men of Wessex brought great numbers to his standard. Canute, leaving a division of his forces to watch the metropolis, marched at the head of a powerful army to meet the king. The two competi tors faced each other at a place called Scearston. The Battle of battle was most obstinately sustained on both sides. It lasted the whole day. The next morning it was renewed. In this second conflict Edmund caught sight of Canute. Rushing towards him, his battle-axe fell on the shield of the Dane with such force as to divide it asunder, and to wound his horse in the shoulder. Canute owed his life to the number of his foUowers who chanced to be on the spot. In this pending state of the struggle, Edric, a false Saxon, struck off the head of a slain warrior, and raising it aloft, cried to the Enghsh, ' See the head of Edmund ' your king.' For a moment the dismay intended to be produced by this stratagem became visible. But Edmund darted to an eminence, removed his helmet, and raising his voice to reassure his men, restored their confidence. The darkness of the second night came, and the combatants were stiU upon the field. But on the morning of the third day it was manifest that the greater loss had been on the side of the Danes ; and Canute, to recruit his forces, began to retrace his steps towards London. Edmund foUowed without delay. At Brentford a second engagement took place, in which the advantage was with the Danes ; but in the third engagement, near Oxford, the Northmen were "signaUy defeated. Canute now raised the siege of London, and passed from the Isle of Sheppey into East Anglia, ravaging the country in his way northward. Edmund was again upon his path. At Ashdown (Assingdon) another engagement took place. The Danes knew their con- RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. 173 dition to be perilous. To raise their courage, ThurchU book ii. assured them that the omen from the flight of the C"AP' 5' raven had been eminently propitious. The traitor Edric, strange to say, was again in command, and was the first to fly.* Edmund, and the faithful among his followers, fought the whole day. The moon had risen for some hours before the deadly strife reached its close. On the morrow Edmund found that his losses, especially among the men of rank, on whom he had most reason to depend, had been alarmingly great. He retreated into Gloucestershire ; Canute fol lowed, and another desperate encounter would have taken place, had not the partisans of the two leaders prevailed on them to agree to a compromise. In the adjustment made, the part of England south compro- of the Thames was assigned to Edmund, that to the ™eeu Ed- north feU to Canute. Only a few weeks later, Edmund £™,?teand perished by the hand of an assassin. Canute pro fited by this event, but it does not appear that he was privy to it. Why Edmund was called the ' Ironside' is uncertain. The name was manifestly a fitting one, "for his short experience of sovereignty, which required him to be prompt in putting on his armour, never aUowed him to put it off.f Canute now became king of England, and two men Canute be- of his race, Harald and Hardicanute, succeeded him in °? EngS that dignity. The sovereignty then returned to the Saxon hne in the person of Edward the Confessor ; and in its next change it passed to the Norman line, through Harold. From the battle of Hastings we date a new epoch in English history. We have thus taken our retrospect of the Revolu- Retrospect. tions effected by the Sword in Anglo-Saxon Britain. Its first great achievement we find in the ' Migration,' * This Edric appears to have been a singularly gifted villain, but he at length met with his reward from the hand of Canute. Flor. Wigorn. ad an. 1007— 1017. t Chron. Sax. Flor. Wigorn. Malms, de Beg. lib, ii. c. 10. Lap- penberg, ii. 187—193. 174 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. which transferred the lands of England from the chapj. QQy_ £Q ^e gaxon< rphe secon(J we see in those wars ofthe Heptarchy which issued in the concentration of the sovereignty in the house of Cerdic. The third is before us in the effect of the Danish invasions, which favoured the centralization of the sovereignty by falling with much more disastrous effect on Northumbria and Mercia than on Wessex, and by pointing to the advantage of a common centre in that quarter. At the same time, we see in these invasions a grand impediment to the social progress that might otherwise have been realized. During the first two centuries after the landing of the Saxons, the wars of the Heptarchy are the great bar in the way of social improvement. During the two centuries which follow, the Danes become the great hindrance. These facts cover nearly the whole space between the landing of Hengist and the inva sion by the Duke of Normandy. The intervals of com parative quiet and security are few, and of short duration. The characteristic features of the period are unsettledness, danger, and suffering. Ancient If we except the affair of the Pretender in 1745, it is England?™ now ^w0 centuries since England has seen war. How significant the contrast between the face of this same country during these two centuries, and during the two which preceded the reign of Egbert, or the two which foUowed ! The land which was as a perpetual battle-field for ages, has ceased through two hundred years to see a soldier, except on parade. In this difference we see the effect, not only of a better conso lidated monarchy, but ofthe better constitutional pre cautions by which the interests of society are guarded against the accidents of character in the person of the sovereign. The Witan of the Anglo-Saxon seemed to exercise a weighty function on the demise of a king, and on some other occasions. But the king being once invested with the supreme power, the character of the man determined the character of the times. The. RISE OF THE DANISH MONARCHY. ' 175 great want was, not only that there should be a cen- book ii. tral and supreme authority, but that the authority so CHAP' 5" recognised should have been better defined, better aided, regulated, and guarded, and, as the consequence, better obeyed. But the due subordination of the less to the greater, of the factious to the patriotic, belongs only to that advanced stage in the political education of a people which comes from experience — the experience of generations and centuries. Of course, underneath the changes before us on the surface of Anglo-Saxon history, there were the differences of race, of religion, and of usage, ever seething, and con tributing their restless influences to one phase of change after another. How far these differences were softened by Christianity, and by other causes, so as to prepare the way for the England of the future, we have stiU to inquire. CHAPTER VI. EFFECT OF THE SAXON AND DANISH CONQUESTS ON THE DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. book n. rpHE strifes which come so constantly to the sur- .flllf' _L face of Anglo-Saxon history had their roots far ^om'the beneath. They were not effects without causes. The differences effects seem to indicate that the causes were pervading and of much force, and such was the fact. The great cause we no doubt find in the differences of race, and in the other differences consequent on that differ ence. The two great lines of distinction in this respect were those which separated — first between the Saxon and the Briton, and then between the Saxons, the Britons, and the Danes. But there were lesser lines of separation beneath these, which tended in their measure to impart to the story of Anglo-Saxon Britain the com plexion under which it is known to us. On the differences of this nature which obtained Diversities among the Teutons who were the founders of the among the English Heptarchy, we shaU aUow the venerable Bede scon's, to speak. ' From the Jutes,' he writes, ' sprang the ' men of Kent, and the Wihtware, the tribe which now ' dwelleth in the Isle of Wight, and the other tribe ' in the country of the East Saxon opposite to ' the Isle of Wight, whom men still caU by the ' name of the hundred of the Jutes. From the ' Saxons, that is to say, from the land now called ' the country of the Old Saxons, descended the East ' Saxons, the South Saxons, and the West Saxons. ' From the Angles, that is to say, from the country ' called Anglia (Anglen), and which from that time ' tUl now is said to have remained waste, between the ' provinces of the Jutes and the Old Saxons, descended ' the East Angles, the Mercians, the race of the NEW DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. 177 ' Northumbrians, and all the rest of the nations of book ii. < England.'* CI1!_6' It will be seen that in this description precedence influence of in regard to extent of territory, and, in consequence, ^H diver" with regard to numbers, is assigned to the Angles, who took possession of the north and north-west portion of the island. The next position is assigned to the Saxons, who gave the name of ' Saxon' to their several territories in the south and south-east. To the Jutes falls the smallest space, and the smallest influence. These tribes possessed much in common, but they were distinguished from each other in many respects — in dialect, in customs, in personal qualities. Many traces of these diversities are stUl perceptible in the several territories which they respectively occupied. It is probable that along with these ' three ' tribes' there were considerable admixtures of Frisians, Franks, and even Longobards,f though not to such extent as to be readily tpced by us at this distance of time. The differences between these settlers — in speech, in physiognomy, in complexion, in the colour of the eyes and hair, and in dress and manners, were probably much stronger than we are disposed to ima gine. Many of the physical diversities stiU observ able among us, though much softened by time, have descended from this source. Hence, too, many varieties in customs, such as the difference between the Wa pentake of Yorkshire, and the Hundred of Sussex, j No thoughtful man wiU suppose that these varieties could exist without awakening more or less of a spirit * Hist. lib. i. c. 15. f Procopius, de Bello Gothico, iv. 20, 93 et seq. Palgrave, i. c. 2. j In the history of Anglo- Saxon legislation frequent reference is made, down to the time of Edward the Confessor, to the differences be tween Wessex-law, Mercian-law, and Danish-law. Each people had their. peculiar usages, which were recognised and respected on such occasions. See Laws of Alfred and Gothrun, and Laws of Edward the Confessor. Edgar's laws recognise distinctions of this nature between Kentishmen, and South Angles, and North Angles. I N 17S SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. of clannish pride and rivalry ; and we need not attempt chap^s. ^o s-^ow yfagAs the effect of such passions has generally been among such communities. The history of the Highlands of Scotland, down to comparatively recent times, furnishes ample illustration on this point. Hence, in great part, the absence of all combination between the different states of the Heptarchy, whether in opposing the incursions of the Britons along the western side of their territory, or of the Scots along the northern side. As the wars carried on with those foes subsided, internal feuds, from other causes, came into more vigorous action, and served to impose a long succession of checks on all tendencies towards unity and improvement. Effect of the Much has been written concerning1 the supposed Stixon in- J. j- vasionon effect of the Saxon invasion on the Britons. The ofethe°atlon fa°t that the Britons kept together along nearly the Britons, whole of the western side of the island, from Cumber land to CornwaU, and the smaU traces of the British tongue along the paraUel territory on the eastern side of that line, would seem to suggest that the effect of this memorable coUision was, that the natives relin quished the one half of their land entirely to the invader, but retained firm hold on the other half. It is not probable, however, that the population of any of the Saxon states was without a considerable admixture of British blood. The keels of the Saxon freebooters can hardly be supposed to have brought settlers in sufficient numbers, and of both sexes, to warrant such an opinion. Greatly more was done ere long upon the soil than can be explained on such a supposition. That a large admixture of this kind took place along the border lands which separated between the two races is unquestionable. In the south and east, where the deteriorating effects of the Roman civilization were the most deeply rooted, the Saxons found the portion of the natives most habitu ated to submission. The most energetic, no doubt, Sought a new home westward or northward, rather NEW DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. 179 than submit to the new masters : but the more passive book ir. would often cling to the sod on any tolerable con- CHAr' 6' ditions. Then, concerning language, the difference between the two races in this respect is supposed by some to have been much exaggerated. According to Csesar, Britain was largely peopled from Belgic Gaul, and not less than one-third of the vocabulary of the Cymric tongue is said to consist of words derived from roots common to it and to the Belgic* These affinities between the Cymric and the Saxon, if existing to anything hke this extent, are enough to suggest that it may not be easy to say how far the one has really superseded the other. That in England, the Welsh has been to a very large extent superseded by the Saxon i^ certain ; and we conclude, in conse quence, that the Britons who dwelt amidst the con quering Saxons must have borne a smaU proportion in influence or numbers to the race which had subdued them. But that the Saxons were alive to the uses that might be made of the vanquished natives is not only in the highest degree probable from the facts of the case, but manifest from the records of history. It should be remembered, that considerable spaces intervened between the establishment of one Saxon state and another, so that the natives would know, as resistance became hopeless, what was to be expected from submission. So late as the year 900, the Britons of the West, that is, of the counties of Somerset, WUts, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall, joined their forces with the Danes against Egbert. Their princes were then finally prostrated, and the chief authority in those parts passed into the hands of the West-Saxon thanes. But the name of ' Weal-cynne,' by which those coun ties are designated in the wUl of Alfred, shows that the population remained for the most part British. * Palgrave, i. 27. N 2 180 SAXONS AND DANES. book u. Even so late as the time of Athelstan, Exeter, the HAP' capital of the Dumnonii from times preceding the conquest by the Romans, was governed by the joint authority of Britons and Saxons ; but from the age of that monarch the independent power of the Britons ofthe West was confined to Cornwall, where the old Celtic has been the vernacular language of a portion of the inhabitants almost to our own day. The names of the leading men in the above counties, as preserved in Domesday, are none of them British, and the English law had then become common to them all, ' at the same time it is certain that the English ' speech was still unknown to the main body of the ' people.'* Along the east coast we' discover few or no traces of the British. The population in those regions is more purely Saxon than in any other part of Saxon Britain down to the time of the Danish invasions. Of the footing retained by the Britons along the Welsh side of the Bristol Channel, through Glouces- * Palgrave, i. 410, 411. Proofs and Illustrations, 243, 244. In fact, the names of places in England are much more of an old British origin than is commonly supposed, and warrant a strong ponclusion as to the presence of the British with the Saxons to the latest period of Anglo-Saxon history. If there* be any word that we are wont to account as certainly of Saxon origin it is the word ford, as a termination in the names of places — such as Bradford, Stafford. But it is singular that this word does not occur in the names of places in those countries from which our Saxons and Northmen came. Other names, which they gave with fre quency to places in this island, occur as often in the countries on the shores of the Baltic. But it is not thus with the word ford. In the British tongue, however, we have the word. fordd orford, denoting a road or passage ; and the fact would seem to be that the word was adopted from the Britons, but with a somewhat restricted application to roads where they cross streams or rivers. We scarcely need say that the British influence must have been great which sufficed to ensure the continuance of local names at all upon this scale. — See Barnes's Notes on Britain and the Britons. Names ending in combe — a valley, and in way or wye — water, are evi dently of British origin. -Shakespeare is an Englishman, but the river's name with which his own is associated, Avon, is old British. ' The men of ' Arvon [Avon] with their ruddy lances.' — Ancient Laws of Wales, p. 50. NEW DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. 181 tershire, Herefordshire, and Shropshire into Cheshire, book ir. we need not speak. Northward from that point the °^J- old British element spreads more or less for a while from west to east. We say little on the vexed question concerning The Angles the origin and history of the Picts and Scots. We to \h*m- have seen that the Angles were stubbornly resisted in ^a8'ScotsS' their endeavours to possess themselves of the ample in ®°?ttl- territory between the Humber and the Forth. The Humber formed the border line of the southern divi sion of the ancient kingdom of Northumbria, as the Forth was the boundary of the northern division. The population of that kingdom was made up of four nations — Angles, Britons, Picts, and Scots. The last three nations, in common with the first, were governed by their own chiefs or princes ; and when the chief of the Angles was strong, these chiefs paid him tribute ; when that prince happened to be weak, they asserted their independence. These peoples were often subdued by the Angles, but never more than partially dis placed. In the northern half of Northumbria the Picts and Scots were the most numerous ; in the southern half, the Angles were the most powerful on the eastern side of the hills of Cumberland and York shhe, the Britons on the western side. These com parative numbers, moreover, and these relations to territory, appear to have remained much the same, as regarded the population, amidst all the revolutions of power among those who affected to govern them. The Britons of Cumbria, of Cambria, and of the West, with their chain of military stations, reaching from the rock of Dumbarton to Mount St. Michael, have left traces of their blood and language along the whole of that distance. The ancient Cumber survives in the modern Cumberland — which means the country of the Cymry, or, as it is sometimes written, the Cumry, From the Clyde to the Dee the Cumry were once the prevalent race. Even the power of Athelstan was not sufficient to awe them into subjection. They fought 182 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. against him at Brunanburgh — showing, in that in- Chap' 6' stance, as the Britons generaUy did, a greater disposi tion to side with the Danes than with the Saxons. In the West, extending from Somerset to Cornwall, the characteristics of the British were graduaUy effaced by the ascendency, first of the Saxons, and afterwards of the Normans. In Cumbria the same change must be attributed to infusions from the Angles and the Scots, but more especiaUy to an inva sion of the province by the Scandinavians in the tenth century. From the mountains of Wales the descendants of the ancient Cumry have seen their brethren in the west and north melt away in the great stream, of mingling populations, while they have themselves retained their old Celtic speech, and their old features of Celtic nationality. Location of We have seen the extent to which the Danes be- in England, came possessors' of the English territory. In 876 Halfdene, the Northman, divided Northumbria among his followers, who soon became cultivators of the soil which had so fallen to them. The treaty of Alfred with Guthorm placed East Anglia — including Nor folk, Suffolk, Cambridge, the Isle of Ely, a portion of Bedfordshire, and parts adjacent — in the hands of that chief, to be holden by him and his descendants in sub ordination to Wessex. Mercia — the territory of the great Offa — became a prey to these invaders, who at length gave stability to their acquisitions in that quarter by the power which they concentrated in the Five Danish burgs — viz. Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby, Leicester, and Stamford. Some make these burgs to be seven, including York and Chester. So some three-fourths of Anglo-Saxon Britain came to be, in a pohtical sense, and for a time, Danish, the ruling power over that large surface of country having passed into the hands of that people. The Angles, the Bri tons, and the Scots in those territories were all nume rous, much more numerous than the Danes ; but the Danes, who found settlements among them, had been NEW DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. 183 sufficiently strong to subdue them. We have seen book ii. that there were many osciUations of power between 0lIAP' s' these new conquerors and the conquered; but that the Danes were conquerors to this extent, and possessed such sway, though only for a season, is a fact that must have had much influence on the future. The policy of Alfred, when he had saved Wessex, was to cede to the Danes, upon conditions, the territories they had won, and to do all that might be done towards amalgamating the different races into one people. Through aU these influences the Danish blood in General England became the most prevalent in East Anglia ; 1S n u next, along the eastern coast between the Humber and the Forth; and next, in the midland counties, forming the kingdom of Mercia. In the west, the admixture was between the Saxons and the British. In all the lands to the north and north-west, it con sisted in a large displacement of the British element by the Anghan and Danish. AU these facts, it wdl be seen, related to the posi tion of the Danes in Anglo-Saxon Britain before the accession of Canute. The formidable invasions which immediately preceded that event, and the event itself, of course added much, both in the way of numbers and influence, to the Danish power in this country before the Conquest. During the latter half of the tenth century a power- Norwegian ful Norwegian migration appears to have set in, with cumber™ little noise, but with much steadiness and effect* on 'wettmore- Cumberland and the parts adjoining. We have reason land- to suppose that this migration did not pass the York shhe hdls from the east. Its approach appears to have been by means of the Irish Sea, and the Isle of Man, from the west. But so considerable was this movement at the time mentioned, that the traces of the Celtic population in those parts in the times which foUow, are few and faint, while the traces of the Scan dinavian, in the names of places and other remainSj 18-1 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. are stiU found almost everywhere. The link which chains, j^ connecte(j the ceits of the hill country of Wales with those of the hiU country of Scotland, was thus displaced ; and the blood of the Northmen, either Danes or Saxons, became the dominant blood along the whole of the lowlands between the Mersey and the Clyde. Names ending in thwaite* by, and thorp,\ are of very frequent occurrence over that district; and aU these are of Scandinavian origin. But then they mingle freely with names ending in ton, ham, and worth, which are of Saxon origin. So it is over a great part of England : and, though the Saxon and the Danish languages included much in common, the pre valence of such names from the one or the other of those languages in a district, may be taken as a pretty cer tain indication of the prevalence of race in that locality before the Conquest. f The Northmen who made their descent from the Solway on the shores of Cumberland, were probably of the same stock with those who, about the same time, had secured a footing in Pembrokeshire. The names \M.ilford and TL&verford, can hardly have been of Saxon * ' Thwaite : Norwegian thveit, Danish tved. This is one of the most characteristic terms of our district, occurring the- most frequently in Cum berland, which has about a hundred names in which it appears ; being also very common in Westmoreland, becoming scarce as we advance into Yorkshire, and ceasing altogether when we arrive at the more purely Danish district of Lincoln.' — The Northmen in Cumberland and West moreland, by Robert Ferguson, 1856. The term thwaite was used to denote a ' clearing,' and occurs most frequently where there was much wood to be cleared. In Norway itself it occurs in some places more than others ; in many instances in our Lake districts, the term and its prefix have been transplanted from the mother country, as the names of places in England reappear in the United States. + By is a termination denoting a dwelling-place, or home, and is more Danish than Norwegian; the same may be said of thorp, which denotes a village. X The Cumberland Britons, pressed by the Saxons and North men, seem to have retired by degrees into Wales, leaving little trace of themselves behind, except in some Celtic names of places which have sur vived them. There is nothing Celtic among the present inhabitants of the district. NEW DISTRIBUTIONS OF RACE. 185 origin. The localities do not answer to the Saxon use book ii. ofthe term ford — but these places are truly described i!^_' by the Norse word fiord, which denotes an arm of the sea. The word holm, too, applied to the Fla,t-holm and the Steep-holm, in the Bristol Channel, is not the Saxon nor the British, but the Norwegian name for island* It is to be remembered, then, that Saxons and Northmen were related as branches to one parent stem : and, what is more, that the same may be said of the Normans, who were destined to become so blended on our soU with both. But the Northman had come as an intruder on the ground of the Saxon ; and this fact was fatal to the unity that might have enabled them to resist the next invader, to whom they were both to become subject. It is clear that the strength of the Danish element in Anglo-Saxon Britain was great — much greater than is commonly apprehended ; and disastrous in many respects as was the collision between the two races on our soil, it is probable that the two together furnished a better stamina for the England of a later age, than would have been furnished by the Saxon alone. It is not easy to say how much of our passion for the sea, and of our power there, have come from the blood of this later generation of sea-kings who found their home among us. It is certain that our great sea- captains, and our men of genius in aU departments, have their full share of Danish names among them. But if the Danish race were to contribute towards our greatness in the end, it is not less certain that they proved a sad impediment to our progress in the beginning. It should, however, be distinctly remembered, that the language of England, which was not to become Nor man, never became Danish. It is thus manifest that the race which continued to be the most diffused, and The Northmen in Cumberland and Westmoreland, pp. 9, 10. 186 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. the most rooted in the land through all changes was HAP' the Anglian or Saxon. At the Conquest, the language spoken in the country contained words from the Latin, more from the Danish, and more than is commonly sup posed from the Celtic ; but its forms and its substance were those which had been introduced by the three great branches of the migration, the Jutes, the Saxons, and the Angles, and especially by the latter, the des tined root of England and of its Englishmen.* * An Account of the Danes and Norwegians in England, Scotland, and Ireland, by E. J. H. Worsaae. London, 1852. ' On the Races of Lancashire, as indicated by the Social Names and the Dialect of the County,' see Proceedings of the Philological Society, 1855. 'English Ethnography,' by Dr. Donaldson, Cambridge Essays, 1856. 'We en tirely miss in English,' says Dr. Donaldson, ' any traces of the distinctive peculiarities of the Danish language. We do not find the article post- fixed, there are great differences in the numerals, the substantive verb follows a different form in the plural, and the peculiar negative particle, ikke, is never used in this island. Prom this last circumstance alone we feel convinced that the Danes exerted only a transitory and limited in fluence on the language and national characteristics of our ancestors.'— Ibid. CHAPTER VII. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. RELIGION in some form is a want of humanity, book ii. AU communities accordingly, even the lowest, °HAP' 7' have their rehgions. The choice in history is always *eejjj&a0f found to he, not between any particular religion and the race. no rehgion, but between one religion and another. Nor is it just to suppose that a religion which may appear to us to be very unreasonable, can never have been a religion deeply felt, or sincerely beheved. As a rule, the men who sustain false religions, are as firm behevers in the religion they profess, as are the nations who sustain what we hold to be a more true and enlightened faith. Everywhere, in consequence, religion is one of the its potency most potent influences in making the man and the '" "' °ry' nation such as we find them. Nowhere is this more true than in the case of such rude communities as come before us in the history of the Saxons and the Danes. Strong are the relations between ignorance and credulity. Many causes may have contributed to make the religion of a people such as it is ; but reli gion once imbibed, becomes itself a cause of wide and powerful influence. In this island the Saxon and the Heathen Dane soon learnt to relinquish their heathenism, saxon and But the Christianity which they embraced, was much the Dane- too narrow and intolerant to aUow of their giving us any satisfactory account of their old religion when once they had embraced the new. Frequent as is the mention made by the Christian Saxons of the pagans of their own time, and of the preceding time, there is 188 SAXONS AND DANES. book ir. a remarkable absence in their writings of any attempt C"AP' 7" to describe the nature of the heathenism once so familiar to themselves. So that our direct information on this subject, especially as regards the Anglo-Saxons, is much more fragmentary and obscure than might have been expected.* It is certain, however, that the objects of worship among the Anglo-Saxons were the same substantially with those recognised by the wide-spread German race on the Continent. The mythology of the Teu tonic nations as known to Csesar and Tacitus, was only partiaUy developed, as compared with the shape which that worship had assumed some three or four centuries later, when the Saxons invaded Britain. The worship which the first Germanic settlers brought into the north of Europe is supposed to have recog nised one Supreme Being, in a manner unknown among their descendants in later ages.f This purer faith the first emigrants bore with them from the East, as they made their way along the track of terri tory between the Caspian and the Euxine. Their early By degrees this belief gave place to a more compli- faith dete- ¦/ o o x. J- riorated. cated system of nature worship, and to hero and demon worship. In history, monotheism always declines where the authority of revelation fails. If that doctrine is to be secure as the faith of a nation, it must rest on some more intelligible ground than reason can present to the popular understanding. Creature worship, in some form or other, is natural to man. The immediate worship of an Infinite Creator is too hard for him. The chasm between the ordinary capacities of men and such an object of worship, is too * In the canons of the Anglo-Saxon Church, the remains of the old paganism among the people are never named but to be condemned ; and the topic often occurs. — See Ancient Laws and Institutes qf England, 18, 23, 24, 71—74, 8(5, 162, 396, 397, 419. Persistence in heathen worship after the profession of Christianity became general was made capital. — Ibid. + Mallet's Northern Antiquities, c. iv. v. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 189 great to be passed by any process of metaphysical bookii. thought possible to such capacities. CHAP' 7' The history of aU false religions, and the history of J^Mous°f the larger portion of Christendom itself, furnishes faith be; evidence but too conclusive on this point. But what- saxmAnd ever may have preceded, it is certain that the worship the Dane' of the Saxons, Jutes, and Angles, in the fifth and sixth centuries, had become very much what the Danish worship is known to be in the ninth and tenth centuries. The gods worshipped by the Danes when they became invaders of Britain, were the gods after whom the Anglo-Saxons had named the days of the week three centuries earher. During those centuries the Scalds of the Northmen may have expanded and embellished the mythic fictions of their race, but the tree, though it had grown, was stiU the same tree. In the religious life of the Dane, accordingly, as indi cated in the Edda, we have beyond doubt the main elements of the rehgious life of the Saxon, from whose earlier traditions the Edda itself was in great part derived. Out object in this place does not require that we should attempt to distinguish between the true and the false in the mythology of the northern nations. Our business just now is not with what the Saxon or the Dane should have believed, but with what they did believe. Their divinities may have had some place in history, but they owe the character under which they are known to us. to the forms of thought, and to the passions, dominant among their worship pers. Such worshippers fashion their gods, and are fashioned by them. To know their deities, in conse quence, is to know themselves. With the Dane, and with the Saxon before him, 0dm wor- Odin or Woden, was the great divinity. Amidst the 8 "p' cold and barren regions of the north, and amidst the storm and danger of his Baltic winters, the Saxon had often heard from poet and from priest of the wonder-working life of Woden. How he learnt many 190 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. centuries since, to hate the ambition of the Romans, chapj. an(j ^ (jggp^gg fae nations that submitted to it ; how he left his. great city of Asgard in the far East, and passing the great seas of that eastern land, travelled westward ; how the warlike youth of all nations flocked to his standard ; how he passed along the territory of the Saxons, and Angles, and Jutes, in his way to con quests which covered all the regions northward ; how. he became the father of many kings, dividing among them many lands ; how, while he could- rush as a devouring flame over the battle-field, he could use most persuasive speech in prose and verse, knew many secret arts which gave him power over the seen and the unseen, and power to establish many wise laws ; how finding his end approaching, and scorning to die of a wasting sickness, he gathered his brave men about him, inflicted a succession of wounds upon his person, and spoke in those last moments of return ing whence he came, to the home of the gods ; and how, having been worshipped while he lived, he be came known when he had departed, as no other than the greatest of the gods, the father of creation, of gods and of men. The Mars, the Mercury, and the Apollo of the classical mythology appears to meet 'in the Woden of the Saxon and the Northman, but the warlike element is the prominent one. He was i The ' terrible god, the father of slaughter, the giver of ' victory, the reviver of the faint in battle — naming ' those who should be slain.' Warriors go forth vow ing to send to him so many ghosts from the field. These were his right, he receives them in the hall of Valhalla — the place where all who die with weapons in their hands receive their reward. There the brave sit down with him at his feast. But here they bow in all things to the destiny of his will. They hear him often amidst the din of arms — see him often where the death-strife thickens. Even this, is not enough. Of Odin the Edda says : ' He liveth and ' governeth during the ages ; he directeth everything REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 191 ' which is high, and everything which is low ; whatever book it. ' is great, and whatever is small ; *he hath made the Chap 7' ' heavens, the air, and man, who is to live for ever — ' and before the heavens and the earth this god ' existed.' Not only Hengist and Horsa, but all the founders of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, without exception, claimed to be, in some way or other, descendants of Woden. Over the north, and in this country, the name of Woden was given to the fourth day of the . week ; and the names of many places in England at this day, are names derived from the worship there paid to this deity by our Saxon ancestors.* Next to Woden as an object of veneration, stood 9t!1?r Q.6ltlC5 Thor, the most valiant of his sons. Thor gave his name to the fifth day of the week among the Anglo- Saxons. In him the Saxon saw the ' Thunderer.5 The defender of the gods. The strong arm that could subdue giants and monsters. The girdle he ' wore ensured him a perpetual strength. The maUet he wielded with his maded hand shattered resistance to pieces. In aU this the initiated may have seen a mythic representation of an elemental deity, power ful over the forces of nature, which must be subdued and regulated to be subservient to man. But the rude Saxon saw nothing of these hidden meanings. Thor was to him what Woden was — a great warrior. Though the powers of aU the gods seemed to meet in Odin, the Mars of the northern mythology was the god after whom the ' Tuesday ' of the Anglo- Saxon week was named. Worship was no doubt rendered to Tcio or Tyr on that day, but we know nothing concerning his special influence on his wor shippers. The same may be said of Frea, from whom comes our name of 'Friday.' Frea appears to have been the god of boundaries and of increase. Of the * Mallet, North. Antiq. c. iii. v. Kemble's Saxons in England, i. 343, 344. 192 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. god Ssetere, from whom our ' Saturday' is named, we chapj. gnQW even jegS) ag ^onnected with Anglo-Saxon his tory, than of the preceding. BalZer** -But ^he nryths of the north assign a conspicuous place to Balder, another son of Odin. They described him as the god of light and grace, of such manly beauty and excellence that light seemed to beam from him upon aU beholders. But a prophecy went forth that Balder would perish. The gods were afflicted by the tidings. Frigga, the wife of Odin, took an oath from all created nature, binding every individual thing not to harm the person so menaced, and so deeply beloved. It was found that no weapon could touch the hfe so guarded. But a sprig of misletoe, too young at the time to have been included in the oath imposed by Frigga, had been excepted. Loki — the Satan of this dream — placed a branch of the fatal misletoe in a hostile hand, and Balder was killed. Odin himself descended to the abodes of the dead, hoping to prevail on the goddess Hel, the guardian of the departed, to give back her prey. It was promised that Balder should return on condition that all created nature should weep for him. All wept, save one old crone, whom Loki had possessed. When caUed upon to join the weeping, she answered : ' What have the ' gods done for me that I should weep for Balder ? ' Let Hel keep her dead.' So Balder could not be made to live again ; and so his faithful Nanna, refus ing to survive her beautiful lord, perished on his funeral pile. Weeping virgins spread the pall over the loved one in the cold dark home of the invisible. But the behef, nevertheless, went abroad, that a son of Balder had taken ample vengeance on the wiles of Loki ; and that a time would come, ' after the twilight ' of the gods,' when Balder would rise from the dead, and when his rising would be a signal for the ending of all sin, and sorrow, and death.* Mallet, North. Ant. c. v. Kemhle's Anglo-Saxons, i. 367-359. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 193 It may, we think, be reasonably supposed, that the book ii. materials of such a story did something towards pre- CtIAP' 7" paring the people who could, devise it, or believe in it, for their adoption of that better creed to which it has some strong and beautiful points of resemblance. The Loki of the Northman, in common with the lom and EvU One of the Scriptures, had his place once where deities.' the good dweU. For the punishment of his wiles he is now put under restraint. What Loki was to the Danes, a being named Grendal had been to the Saxons. Thus we see that the doctrine of an Evil Spirit had its precursor among the old heathenisms of the north ; and we regret to say that this devil-doc trine became only more sensuous, and more coarsely superstitious, when assumed along with the profession of Christianity. Nothing could be more offensive than the use to which it was applied by the priesthood of those times. Our familiar expression, ' Old Nick,' comes from Nicor, the name given to a species of elve, or water-devU, found planning his mischief along the shores of lakes, rivers, and seas. The northern nations, moreover, had their Fates, The rates. who wove the web of destiny, and to whom both gods and men were subject. The three Norns — embracing the Past, the Present, and the Future — were what the three Fates of the Greek mythology had long been. The Saxon word weird was used .to denote fate or destiny ; and we have all heard of the ' weird sisters.' Confidence in women supposed to be in possession of such knowledge of the things that shall be, was a conspicuous element in the northern heathenism. But in the warrior creed, the fate of battles, and of those who should be there found among the living or the dead, was with Odin. So that the Fates, if in some things supreme, were in others subordinate; and the weird sister who might see the future, had no power to produce change there.* * Edda, part i. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. c. 12. Olaus, Hist. iii. c. 9. I 0 194 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. In honour of these divinities the Anglo-Saxons HAP' 7' reared edifices, which are called temples, set up idols saxon'P °f i*1 suc^1 placeSJ presented oxen in sacrifice before them, heathen- and connected feasting and drinking with their acts of homage to them. Such was the worship practised in Kent at the time of its conversion.* It is certain, also, that such was the worship which obtained in the other states of the Heptarchy, f Bede, in his account of Northumbria, makes mention of a chief priest con nected with the heathen worship in that kingdom. So that there were not only priests, but priests with some gradation of authority among' them. J But the autho rity which the Saxon ceded to the priest was small, compared with that which the Celt had ceded to the Druid ; and, in fact, but few of their priests would seem to have accompanied them in their migration. It is from this cause, in part, that our information con cerning the heathen worship of the Saxons after their settlement in this country is so limited. We have no reason to suppose that their sacrifices in Britain ever included human victims ; but in their own land, the immolation of captives in honour of their gods was by no means uncommon. § This ceasing of human sacrifices, and this raising of buildings for worship, on the part of the Saxon in Britain, may suffice to indicate that the change of country had conduced speedily and considerably to a change of manners. In the countries which these people had left, human sacrifices continued to be offered so late as the ninth century ; and long after the times of Hengist and Horsa their only places for worship continued to be of that rude Druidical descrip tion the remains of which are still found in many parts of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. But the time came in which all these countries began to rival each other * Bede, Eccles. Hist. i. 30. Ibid. ii. 5, 9, 15 ; iii. 8, 30; iv. 22, 27. i. 13- § Sidonius, Opera, Ep. viii. 6. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 195 in the splendour ofthe structures reared in honour of bookii. their deities. CHAP' 7' The great temple at TJpsal in Sweden, appears to have been especially dedicated to Odin, Thor, and Frea. Its periodical festivals were accompanied by different degrees of conviviahty and licence, in which human sacrifices were rarely wanting, varied in their number and value by the supposed exigency. In some cases even royal blood was selected, that the imagined anger of the gods might be appeased. In Scandinavia, the authority of the priest was much greater than it would appear to have been among the Anglo-Saxons. It was his word often which deter mined where the needed victims should be found. It was his hand that inflicted the wound, and his voice which said * I send thee to Odin,' declaring the object of the sacrifice to be, that the gods might be propitiated, that there might be a fruitful season, or a successful war. It was to his mandate that the proudest could bow without any sense of degradation, his command being the utterance, not of the man, but of the god he represented. In this manner, as we have before observed, the wdl resisted nowhere else, has often felt that there was at least one quarter from which re straint- might come. Of course the Northmen were great believers in omens, and the priests were the in terpreters of omens. We should add, that they were highly chivalrous in their conduct towards women. But even their love only tended to deepen their hate, and to give a stronger intensity to their passion to annihilate resistance. The women had imbibed the spirit of the men. It was indispensable to the suc cessful suitor that he should be brave. So do we come to see something of the forms of summary thought, and something ofthe passions — and the light th"sChea-ns and shadow, which made up the life of the Saxon and then life- the Dane in their state of heathendom. The great element of the godlike in that heathen system seemed to be placed in the propensity to vanquish and destroys o :Z 196 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. But underneath all this bloodshed and marauding lay chap_j. a conviction which was regarded as imparting to it manliness, nobleness, and even sanctity. This convic tion was, that the man employed in tdling the ground, or selling his wares, should be reckoned a deteriorated man ; and that it belongs to the firmer natures, who contemn such employments, to give law to the weaker natures which conform to them. If this conception was not clearly expressed, and reduced to an axiom, nevertheless it was there, and it did not work the less potently from the fact that untaught passion, rather than a trained logic, had settled it as a religious truth. Somehow, the world had come to consist very- much of two classes — the comfort- loving and the brave ; and if anything could be clear, it was thought to be clear, that the brave should be masters. It might be all very well that the two sorts of people should exist — but the one should assuredly be servant to the other, and whatever destruction of property or hfe should be necessary to that end, could be no matter to whine and weep over, but the contrary. With Odin, the sword was the instrument to determine who should be uppermost, and so should it be with all the children of Odin. Nor is it among barbarians only that reasoning of this sort may be traced. We find it whenever right is determined by might. It was in this spirit that Hengist and Cerdic, Canute and WiUiam the Conqueror alike acquitted themselves. It is in this spirit that the great military monarchies of Europe have become what they are. Thus in the life of the heathen sea-king, contempt'' of the civUized man became a feeling eminently reli gious ; and a heart which left no room to pity, became the heart regarded as in the highest degree meet for the pleasures of the Norse paradise. Barbarianism thus became a necessary condition of devoutness, and cruelty became a fruit of piety. The southern peoples were regarded, not only as the foreign, but as the effemi nate — as natural enemies to the true children of REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 197 nature, and to send mamv such souls to Odin was to book ii. V • J Chap. 7- live to some purpose. It was this complexion of thinking which rendered both the Saxon and the Dane so faithful to their pledge one towards another, and which gave such prominence in their history to the passion of revenge. Their confederations were confederations against the civilized world, and only by fidelity at home could they hope to be successful abroad. In their hour of misfortune, in their moments of torture and death, their solace generaUy was, that their people would never hear of such disaster without swearing to avenge it. So Inguar and Ubbo came to avenge the death of their father Lodbrog. So Sweyne came to avenge the fate of his sister Gunhilda. But there was another source from which the cou rage of the Northman gathered strength. His faith not only taught him that it is a right thing for the sword to rule, but that such rule had been decreed. He was a great fatalist. Odin always named those who should be slain. Every brave man had his work •to do, and would be safe until that work should be done. There are two points from which we may look at hfe — from its beginning, and aU in the distance will seem to be contingency ; or from its end, when aU the parts will appear to have been fixed by the laws of an iron destiny. The worshippers of Odin looked at life as Odin was supposed to look at it, as it wUl appear at the end ; and in so doing they learnt to persuade themselves that, as nothing in the future can be changed, anything in the present may be dared. Great, however, was their solicitude to obtain some glimpse of the future in their seasons of danger. No pains were then spared to get favourable responses from the auguries of the priest, or from the divining of the sorceress.* It must be obvious, that among a people who lived * Northern Antiq. c. vii. Cluver. Antiq. Germ. i. c. 36, 198 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. by means of plunder abroad, and by the help of slaves at chap^j. ]j0mej time must have passed in alternate hardship and indolence — attempting everything or doing nothing. It is not easy to say which of these extremes must have tended to demoralization in the greatest degree — the coarse feasting, drunkenness, and frays of the winter, or the cruelties and excesses of the summer. But under aU this we may see, both in Saxons and Northmen, a people of great physical vigour, strong in wiU, ardent in passion, indomitable in courage, and of such high natural capacity as could only need to be placed under other influences, to fit them for realizing a form of civilization for themselves greatly in advance of that Roman civUization which had become, and not wholly without reason, the object of their scorn. We now pass, then, from these warhke and heathen phases of Anglo-Saxon history, to mark the more silent revolution wrought by Christianity, and by the civilization which it did so much to promote. So long as our ancestors were heathen men, Frea, the god of bountifulness, was set up side by side with the ' Father of Slaughter ;' and the beautiful myth concerning the fate of Balder, had its place along with pictures of the revellings to be enjoyed in the haUs of Valhalla. It was left to Christianity to separate the true in these conceptions from the false, the good from the evil. introduc- The first landing of the Saxons in Britain was, as chris°.f we have seen, in 449. The mission of Augustine, the tianity. first Christian preacher among the descendants of these settlers, was in 596. So that about a century and a half intervened, between the landing of Hengist, and the conversion of Ethelbert, his successor on the throne of Kent, to the profession of Christianity. But the conversion of the South Saxons, the last state of the Heptarchy to abandon idolatry, did not take place until 685, almost ninety years later. From 685, Anglo-Saxon Britain may be said to be included in the portion of the globe bearing the name of Chris tendom. . The Danes, indeed, brought their paganism REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 199 with them ; but they were soon led to embrace the book ii. faith of their adopted country. ?1AP' .¦' In what remains of this chapter we shall glance at the leading facts connected with the introduction of Christianity into Anglo-Saxon Britain, and at the main features of the change resulting from that event. In 592 Gregory the Great became pope. He was Pope by birth a man of rank. His life from his youth was reg017- marked by great religious earnestness, and by great self-sacrifice, according to the notions of his time. Though neither a great genius nor a faultless man, compared with the age in which he hved he was a person of eminent ability and virtue. While a humble monk of the order of St. Andrew, it chanced that Gregory passed one day through the market-place at Rome, where .some beautiful boys were exposed for sale. Struck with their handsome features, fair com plexions, and hght flaxen hair, which feU in ringlets on their shoulders, he inquired whence they came. The answer was, 'from Britain.' — 'Are they Chris- ' tians ?' was the next question. ' No, they are pagans.' ' Alas !'• said the monk, ' that the Prince of Darkness ' should inhabit forms so lovely — that the beauty of ' the soul should be wanting, where there is such ' beauty of countenance. Of what nation are they ?' ' Angles,' was the answer. ' Right,' said Gregory, ' they are angels. From what province ?' — ' Deira,' was the reply. ' Surely they must be rescued [de ird\ ' from the wrath of God. What is the name of their ' king ?' — ' iEUa,' said the slave-master. ' Right again,' said Gregory, ' AUeluia must be sung in the country ' of that king.'* Much may not be said for the taste exhibited in this word-play. But the incident shows the susceptibUity of imagination and feehng by which the future pope was characterized — quahties which prompted him to so many of his labours. The idea thus lodged in his mind was not unfruitful. He * Bede, Eccles. Hist. lib. ii. c. i. Chron. Sax. a.d. 597. Augustine. 200 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. sought permission of the then Bishop of Rome to HAP" 7' become himself an apostle to the distant heathen whose condition had so much affected him. He had journeyed three days on the road towards Britain, when messengers overtook him with the unwelcome tidings that the people of Rome had prevailed on the pope to revoke his sanction of the enterprise. In the great trouble of the capital, and in prospect of troubles stdl greater, the people feel, said the messengers, that Gregory is not the man to be spared for such an undertaking.* Mission of But what Gregory was not to do in person, was to be done under his guidance. In 596, the fourth year of his pontificate, he deputed Augustine, and certain monks, to attempt the introduction of the Gospel among the Anglo-Saxons. Augustine- was obedient, but had not reached the shores of Britain when the fears of the brotherhood became so strong, that they halted on their way, and implored permission to return. Gregory exhorted them by letter to be steadfast and believing, and wrote to the Bishop of Aries, urging him to render all needful service to the missionaries. Augustine and his companions, committed themselves to their voyage, and landed in the Isle of Thanet. Ethelbert was then king of Kent, and Bertha, his queen, a daughter of Charibert, king of France, was a Christian. The strangers sent a messenger to the king, to state to him that they had come from a distant land, to make known tidings of unspeakable importance to him and to his people. Ethelbert said', let all hospitality be shown to these persons ; and four days afterwards he met them in the open air, to hear from them more fully the purpose of their coming. Augustine explained to the king the Christian doc trine. Ethelbert, without at once professing himself a Christian, told them they might preach their doc trine to his subjects, and that they might take up * Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. a. 1, § 90. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 201 their abode in Canterbury, where provision should be book ii. made for their support. The forty monks accordingly, .I1AP' 7" with Augustine at their head, entered that city in procession, chanting a litany, in which they implored that the divine wrath might be turned away from the people. Before the close of the year, ten thousand Saxons its success. are said to have received baptism. Ethelbert himself became a convert. But the king left his subjects to their proper hberty — ' for he had learnt,' says Bede, ' from his instructors, that the service of Christ must ' be voluntary, not by compulsion.' Great was the joy of Gregory on learning the signal success which had attended the preaching of his missionaries.* He wrote to Ethelbert, exhorting him, as his ' illustrious ' son/ to continue steadfast in the pursuit of the hea venly crown, and urged him to show his zeal by casting down the idols, and demohshing the structures raised for the pagan worship. He wrote to Augustine also, giving him useful counsel in regard to many questions of casuistry and discipline which began for demand answer from him in his new field of labour — cautioning him, at the same time, against being lifted up with pride by reason of his successes and his mira cles ! Augustine became archbishop of Canterbury, with power to ordain bishops, the paU — an ornament of dress which denoted a metropolitan dignity — being sent to him by Gregory, that he might acquit himself with due form in such services. Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, and Rufinianus are among the names of the ecclesiastics sent to assist the new archbishop, and with these, it is said, came aU things ' necessary for ' the worship and service of the church — viz., sacred ' vessels and vestments for the altars, also ornaments ' for the churches, and vestments for the priests and 'clerks, as likewise rehcs of the holy apostles and ' martyrs ; besides many books.' f * Opera, ep. vii. 31. t Bede, Eccles. Hist. lib. i. c. 28—33. 202 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Augustine soon became aware that it had not been °HA?' 7" left to him to be the first to preach the Gospel in Britain. The Christianity which the Briton^ had adopted whUe under the Romans, had not only been preserved by them on their retreat into the fastnesses of Wales, but had acquired such influence among them as to have wholly superseded their more ancient worship. But the Christianity received by the Bri tons was that which had been common to the East and West in the third century, while the Christianity of Augustine was that which obtained in Rome three centuries later. During those three centuries, the sys tem of the secluded Britons had been comparatively stationary — that of the south of Europe had been undergoing many changes. In regard to the time of keeping Easter, and many other observances, the Bri tish churches followed the customs of the East, and differed from those of the Church of Rome. Augustine's Augustine, with the aid of Ethelbert, sought a con- with the ference with certain of the Welsh clergy, in the hope bishops. °f prevading on the churches of Wales to conform themselves to the Romish observances. In his first interview, neither his arguments nor his persuasions were of any avail. But a second conference was agreed upon, in which the British representatives were to con sist of persons more competent to decide in behalf of their nation. The Welsh now deputed seven of their bishops. These bishops are said to have consulted a recluse famous for his wisdom, touching the course it might behove them to take. The substance of his counsel appears to have been, that unity on the ground of submission as inferiors to Augustine as their supe rior, was not to be entertained for a moment. Let them arrange to approach the archbishop whUe he should be seated. If he rose to receive them, the action might be taken as indicating brotherhood and equality, and it would be well to listen dispassionately to his state ments. If he received them sitting, his .so doing would bespeak pretensions to superiority fraught with REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 203 mischief, and it would behove them to look on all bookii. measures proposed by him with suspicion. Augus- — -' tine did not rise. The Welsh bishops acted on the counsel that had been given them. The archbishop lost patience, and said to tlie Britons, with much warmth, that they should ere long fall by the sword of the Saxons, seeing that they refused to join him in preaching the Gospel to them. This passionate utterance was accounted a prophecy, and was said to have been fulfilled some years later in a battle near Chester, where the loss of the Britons was great, and a large body of monks, assembled to pray in their be half on a neighbouring hiU, were put to the sword.* This conference took place in the open air under an oak. The place of meeting was some border district, but whether in Gloucestershire or Shropshire is uncer tain. The event became a theme of tradition, and a fact in history, between the two races. It taught such of the Anglo-Saxon clergy as were most disposed to make their use of the authority of Rome to cast the reproach of schism on the British Church ; while in the imagination of the Briton, it served to identify the spiritual pretensions of Rome, with the territorial pre tensions of the Saxons. The slaughter of the Britons at Chester did not take place until some years after the death of Augustine ; and the monks slain on that occasion, were from the monastery Of Bancor, on the river Dee — an estabhshment which had long been famous for its learning, and the number of its in mates, f Before his decease, in 604, Augustine had ordained Dissensions , . , . -. T , . ¦• • continue an ecclesiastic named Laurentius as his successor, betweenthe Homan ' and native * Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. c. 2. Chron. Sax. a.d. 607. c ergy' f Camden, Brit. 665, 666. This Bancor, or Bangor-is-y-Ceod, must be distinguished from Bangor in the Menai Straits. There are passages in Bede which show that the Saxons and the Britons were severed from each other by strong mutual prejudices, and even their Christianity only seemed to add to their points of difference.— JEWes. Hist., ii. c. 2, 20. 204 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Mellitus had preached the Gospel with success in .fjf_7- Essex, and was ordained bishop of the East Saxons. Justus was* ordained bishop of Rochester. Lauren tius soon learnt, that the customs of the Britons in regard to the festival of Easter, and other matters, were the customs of the Christians in Scotland and Ireland. So near are the shores of the west of Scot land to those of the north of Ireland, that what those countries possessed, even at that time, they possessed very much in common ; and the Irish and Scots are in consequence frequently spoken of as the same people. Persuasive letters were addressed by Lauren tius and his brethren to the Britons, the Scots, and the Irish, urging that they should conform to usages said to be those of the universal church. But the nonconformists do not appear to have been moved by these expostulations.* Eeligious In 610 MeUitus was present at a councU in Rome, severiT in convened by Boniface IV. In that assembly there states. Was much consultation on the affairs of Britain ; and MeUitus returned the bearer of documents intended to cement the relations between the Anglo-Saxon Church and the See of Rome.f But six years later, Ethelbert died. Eadbert, his son, married his father's widow. The Christian clergy protested against this incestuous proceeding. The new religion, in conse quence, was no longer in favour with the crown or the court. Idolatry was introduced anew. Among the East Saxons, also, the death of the king brought with it a similar revolution. AU that had seemed to be gained now appeared to be lost. The clergy began to seek refuge in Gaul. In Essex, some time passed before any reaction took place. But Eadbert soon learnt to confess his error, and the Christian order of things in Kent was restored. J In Northumbria, a similar conversion, was foUowed * Eccles. Hist. ii. c. 4. f Ibid. Kb. ii. c. 4. X Chron. Sax. a.d. 616. Bede, Eccles. Hist. lib. ii. c. 5, 6. Northumbria. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 205 by a similar reaction. The queen of king Edwin was book ii. a daughter of Ethelbert, and a Christian. It had CHAP' 7' been stipulated, on her marriage, that Paulinus, a Christian bishop, should be a part of her household. Edwin himself at length became a Christian, and mul titudes of his people foUowed his example. The East Anglians imitated the Northumbrians. Idolatry in both kingdoms seemed passing away. But the pagan power of Mercia prevaded over the Christian power of Northumbria. Edwin perished in battle. Suddenly everything Christian seemed to give place to the return of the old superstitions.* The year in which Edwin feU was designated in Restoration after times the unhappy year, so memorable was it to tfanitytn the Northumbrians from its crimes and its sufferings. At the close of it Oswald became king. During the last reign Oswald had been in exile, and, in common with many of his friends, had found an asylum among the Christian brotherhood of Iona. He had there become a Christian, and on ascending the throne of Northumbria was desirous of seeing the Christian reli gion restored to its place among his subjects. For assistance to this end he looked, not to Rome, nor to Canterbury, but, as was natural, to his former teachers in Iona. There is a point of land on the coast of Argyleshire Account of caUed the Island of MuU. To the distant mariner it lona" appears like a part of the main land, projecting some thirty mdes into the sea, the river constituting it an island, being, as in the case of the Isle of Thanet, inland and invisible. At a distance of not more than half a mde from the extreme point of MuU is an island, of not more than three miles in length, and about a mUe and a half in breadth. This island once bore the name of ' Druid's Island.' It has since been known by the name of IcolmkiU, which means the * Chron.. Sax. a.d. 627. Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. c. 9 et seq. Malms. de Beg. i. c. 3. . lumba. 206 , SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. island of Columba's cell : and IcolmkiU has been chap^j. softened, in more recent times into Iona. It is sup posed that the Druids driven from Mona found an asylum in this place. But towards the close of the sixth century its sacredness came from its Christian, and not from its Druid residents. Its existing monu ments are aU of a date some centuries later than the age now under consideration. st. co- Of St. Columba two memoirs, substantiaUy trust worthy, have been preserved. In common with many men who rose to his kind of eminence in those ages, he was of noble family. He was connected by many ties both with Ireland and Scotland. His settlement ' in Iona, at the head of the humble brotherhood who submitted to his authority, dates from 654. The men were twelve in number, and the boat which bore them from Ireland was of rude construction, and covered with ox-hides. But the history of this man and of his disciples, is the history of men honestly separated to the pursuit and communication of religious know ledge. They dwelt in structures formed ¦ of rough- hewn wood, and covered with reeds. Everything pertaining to their condition was in keeping with such appearances. Nevertheless they sent off fraternities to settle in different parts of Scotland and Ireland, and every such settlement was a centre from which missionaries went abroad to strengthen the faith of Christians, and to attempt the conversion of the heathen stiU left in the land. They possessed many books, laboured hard to multiply them by. transcrip tion, and great was the value they set on them. What learning the age possessed was in their keeping ; and the authority they assigned to the Scriptures, and the devout spirit in which they studied them, were most exemplary.* * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. c. i.— iv. Adaman, Vita Columb. Cumin, Vita Columb. Pinkerton, Vita Antiques Sanctorum. Chron. Sax. A.D. $6$. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 207 When Oswald sohcited spiritual help from his book ir. former friends in Iona, they sent to him Aidan, de- °HA''' 7' scribed by Bede as a bishop, and as ' a man of singular ^id*"— 'lie ' meekness, piety, and moderation.' Aidan chose Nortimm- Lindisfarne, the spot now known by the name ofbria' ' Holy Island,' off the coast of Northumberland, as his residence. The king, says Bede, ' humbly and ' willingly gave ear in all cases to his admonitions, ' and apphed himself most sedulously to budd and ex- ' tend the church of Christ in his kingdom. So that ' when the bishop, who did not perfectly understand ' the Enghsh tongue, preached the Gospel, it was ' most dehghtful to see the king himself interpreting ' the Word of God to those about him ; for he had ' perfectly learned the language of the Scots during ' his long banishment. From that time many from ' the region of the Scots came daily into Britain, and ' preached the Word with great earnestness to those ' provinces of the Enghsh over which king Oswald ' presided. Churches were budt ; people joyfully ' flocked together to hear the Word ; possessions were ' given by the bounty of the king to budd monasteries ; ' the Enghsh youth were instructed by these Scottish ' masters ; and great care was bestowed on the dis- ' cipline of the church.'* Aidan, it seems, was not the first man sent in answer to the call of Oswald. But a brother named Corman, to whom this apostleship was first assigned, returned to Iona in despair, describing the Northum brians as too barbarous and stubborn to be brought under the influence of the Gospel. The brethren lis tened with disappointment and sorrow to these tidings. Presently a voice from the crowd said, ' Brother, the ' fault has been with you. You have not borne with ' the slowness and perverseness of your hearers as you ' should have done. You should have administered ' the milk of a more gentle doctrine, until, being suffi- * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. c. 3. Malms, de Beg. iii. c. 3. 208 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. ' ciently nurtured by such means, their minds might HAP' 7' ' have been raised by degrees to higher truths.' It was felt that the speaker had given the true inter pretation. The oflice. was now devolved on the man who had so spoken, and the speaker was Aidan. The issue justified the choice. Aidan became the apostle of Northumbria. He traversed its length and breadth on foot, with no other aid than his waUet and his staff. To convert the pagan, to teach the ignorant, to comfort the suffering, to befriend the poor, were the objects to which his life was devoted, with a spirit of self-sacrifice of rare occurrence even among good men. So thoroughly did Oswald second the zeal of Aidan, that both have their place as saints in the Roman calendar.* The Hep- Oswald married a daughter of Cynegils, the king of converted Wessex, and his influence contributed probably, as feraionof" much as ^e preaching of Birinus, to bring the West ciiris- Saxons to join the Christian states of the Heptarchy. ' l> This was in 635. Dorchester in Oxfordshire was the first bishopric in Wessex. In the same year the East Saxons returned to the profession of Christianity. In 665 the powerful kingdom of Mercia renounced idola try. Penda, pagan and ferocious as he may have been, did not obstruct the preaching of the Gospel in his dominions. But his son Penda became a Christian, and married a Christian princess, Alchfleda, a daughter of Oswy of Northumbria. When Penda received baptism, his thanes, and his subjects generally, con formed to the new worship. These events left Sussex the only country adhering to the old religion; and there it was renounced in 685, under the preaching of an able Saxon ecclesiastic, Wilfrid, the ostentatious and litigious bishop of York.f It wiU be seen, then, that the northern half of * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. Malms, de Beg. Matt. West. f Chron. Sax. a.d. 635-6$$. Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. c. 7 et seq. Malms, de Beg. i. c. 3. Matt. Westmin. a.d. 678. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 209 Anglo-Saxon Britain was brought to the profession of book ii, Christianity by the direct or indirect influence of the ^_" disciples of Columba. Thr6ugh Bernicia and Deira, ™°.c°^f the influence of the Scottish missionaries extended to the Angio- East Angha, to Mercia, and even to Wessex. Gra- 0^°p9ar- titude is due to pope Gregory, and to the ecclesiastics £*"y^". sent forth by him to this country. Their intentions were generous, and their labours in a great degree successful. But had no thought of Britain ever occu pied the mind of the pious Gregory, or of the monk Augustine, it is clear that Britain would have been evangehzed. Had the work been left to the brother hood of Iona, it would have been done. In the absence, however, of papal interference, the field would not have been left to the Scots. The proximity of our southern coast to Gaul, would have invited mis sionaries from that quarter. Success by such agency would, of course, have brought with it relations t6 Rome, and nothing could have prevented the Anglo- Saxon Church from becoming a part of the great ecclesiastical system of Europe in the Middle Age. It is a fact, however, and a fact not sufficiently remem bered by Englishmen, that the conversion of our Saxon ancestors to Christianity is not so much due to Roman missionaries as to missionaries from another quarter. It was largely reahzed by other 'labourers, and it would have been completed by those labourers, had the work been allowed to remain in their hands. The mere change of country, in the experience of causes fa- the. Anglo-Saxons, was unfavourable to the continuance Invent0 of the same religion. Time is necessary to give sane- — change of tity to places. Their power to awe the imagination comes not from what they are, so much as from the shadows ofthe past which hover about them. AU such places have their real or supposed histories, and those histories people the thoughts of the worshippers with images of the bygone. No new forest, in any new region of the earth, could have affected the mind of the Saxon, or of the Dane, as their own German, or I p 210 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. Scandinavian groves had affected them. To have left HAP' 7' the ancient homes of their gods must have been felt at times like leaving their worship altogether. In the new country, the groves, the temples, the very images of the gods, would aU be new ; and the effect of all this novelty must have been, in many cases, a speedy and perceptible abatement of faith in their old divinities. With rude heathen nations, the idea has always been prevalent, that the earth is parcelled out among gods as among men, and that the gods proper to a country are those which have been in a sense naturalized to it. There would grow up by degrees, accordingly, both with Saxon and Dane, a feeling that their change of country might naturaUy bring with it some change in religion. They had now ceased to be sea-kings. The generation soon grew up to whom industrial and settled habits were familiar — the rear ing of cattle, and the tilling of the ground. Some taste for a more regular and civUized hfe was thus induced. In such things, even the Britons were capable of becoming the teachers of the Saxons. It is at this season, so favourable to change, that the Christian religion crosses their path; and this reli gion comes to them as .that of the most powerful and civilized peoples of their own time and of past time. Some of the monuments of that civilization they had seen. But the rumour of what might be seen on the shores of the Mediterranean, where all the civic greatness of past ages seemed to have become tributary to the religious faith of the present, sug gested comparisons which could hardly fail to awaken a wholesome suspicion in regard to the claims of their own faith. It was the destiny of all. the northern nations, to despise the civdization of the south for a season, and then to adopt it. Bede relates an incident showing how readily the Saxons learnt to contemn their sacred places in this country. When the Gospel was first preached in Northumbria, Coifi, the high-priest, urged the king REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 211 to embrace it, declaring that he was himself satisfied book il that the gods they worshipped were imaginary. To C"AP' '' testify his sincerity, he proffered to be himself the man who should first defy and profane the objects they had been wont to fear and to hold sacred. The Saxon priest was not to bear arms, nor even to mount a horse ; but Coifi called for a horse and spear, and before the king, and the crowd of courtiers and people, he rode up to the entrance of the temple, and threw his spear with such force across the sacred enclosure, that it entered the opposite wall. Many of the people looked on with astonishment, expecting to see the god avenge the insult. But no sign followed; and they then did the bidding of the priest, in aiding to demo lish the idol and his sanctuarv.* It was another advantage on the side of those who suspension had to commend the Gospel to the heathen men in gicai con- Anglo-Saxon Britain, that in their time the great troversy' era of theological controversy had reached its close. Nothing need be said here with regard to those subtle distinctions concerning the Divine Nature by which, not only the churches, but the nations, of the East and West were so often shaken, through several centuries. The Christianity embraced by aU the northern nations who had descended sou'thward, with the sole exception of the Franks, had been Arian Christianity. But before the mission of Augustine, Spain, the last of the Arian kingdoms, had signified its adhesion to the Catholic creed, f Of course, the orthodox doctrine did not preclude the Kesem- i i p /~n • j • -sj r • • • • blances be- teacher of Christianity from giving an impressive pro- tween the minence to the unity and supremacy of God. Tacitus, a"c"ris?d and other authorities, aUege that the more ancient tian faith- creed of the Teutonic race embraced a lofty mono theism. If such was the fact, it is reasonable to sup pose that this doctrine was not wholly lost among the * Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. c. 13. t Neander, Eccles. Hist. Milman's History of Latin Christianity, ii. 269, 270. p 2 212 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Saxons and the Northmen ; and those among them HAP' 7" who retained any hold on this truth, would not only be among the most likely to listen to the claims of the Gospel, but the most likely to influence others in its favour. Those who had learnt to look upwards with awe to one IUimitable Nature as over aU, would here find their highest conceptions realized and surpassed.* The One Existence, and whose All-presence the inter minable forest, the boundless plain, or the mystery of space, was supposed to represent, would be to them no longer as an 'Unknown God.' The custom of ascribing the attributes of almost every other god to Woden was, as we beheve, a deteriorated form of this great truth. fawh°bt ^ie Pr^es^ Coifi, mentioned before, says, 'I have comes ' been persuaded long since that we worship what has powerless. < nQ existence. ^g more diligently I have sought ' truth in that direction, the less have I found it.'f This doubt and inquietude, we may suppose, was much more common in those times than history has re ported. It was natural it should be felt as the northern darkness came under the influence of the southern hght. Error was exposed. The mind was so far prepared to receive truth. When Edwin, king of Northumbria, consulted his thanes on the ques tion of granting a hearing to a Christian teacher, an aged man was heard to say, ' To me, 0 king, the ' life we now hve, in comparison to that which is 1 unknown to us, is hke the swift flight of a sparrow ' through the hall in which you are seated at your ' meat during a wintry night. The fire burns in the ' midst. The room is warmed thereby. Storms of ' rain and snow rage abroad. The sparrow enters at ' the one door, and soon departs at the other. Whilst ' within he is safe for his little season, but he soon ' passes away into the dark winter whence he came. * Tacitus, Germania, ix. Mallet, North. Ant. c. iv. f Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. c. 13. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 213 ' So to me is the life of man. He comes for a short book u. ' space. But of what went before, or what is to fol- "AP.'.J" ' low, we are wholly in ignorance. If this new doc ¦ ' trine can give us some certainty on such matters, it ' is fitting we should hear it and submit to it.' The historian adds, that many elders and king's councillors spoke to the same effect.* We may be sure that Northumbria was not singular in possessing men among its 'elders' and 'councillors' influenced by such thoughts. The effect of Christianity on such minds was to conduct them from doubt to certainty. But this change was not a transition from error to ™e new unmixed truth. Christianity gave these Teutons a not pure. priesthood in the place of that which they were to aban don, and a sacrifice for sin in place of those which they were to offer no longer. But this priesthood had diverged considerably, from its primitive model, and this sacrifice took with it ideas and adjuncts unknown in the purer ages of the church. StiU, that religion should have its ministers separated to their office, and . vested with some dignity and authority ; and that sin should be expiated by sacrifice, were Teutonic ideas, which were rather purified and elevated, than super seded, by Christianity. It was, moreover, quite in harmony with German thinking that the Supreme Being should not be the immediate object of approach in worship. The humanity of Christ was to the Saxon, the sum of all teaching as to what man should be. It was, also, to him, a manifestation of all he could need to know, in regard to the moral character of the Creator. But even this softened presentation of the Divine through the human, did not embrace enough of the descending element to meet all the cravings of the religious spirit. Hence, the worship of the Virgin. The pity of woman was thought to be more likely to yield to entreaty than the pity of man, even that of the best of men — of the One Perfect Man. For the * Bede, Eccles, Hist. ii. c. 13. 214 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. man in this case is not merely a man. His nature is HAP' .' Divine as well as Human. Hence even the humanity of the Redeemer came to be regarded as too pure, too awful, too widely separated from our frail nature, to be approached without fear. In this manner the way was prepared for the worship, not only of the Virgin, but of the whole host of saintly mediators which have their place in the Roman calendar. To worship Deity through humanity was felt to be the only pos sible worship ; and the less the humanity should be removed from our own actual experiences the better, so there might be goodness enough to pity, and power enough to help. With the authority of revelation in their favour, Christians should have known how to dispense with the services of these subordinate mediators. But the tendency of human nature is everywhere towards the mythology and worship which have their fuU deve lopment in polytheism. om and One feature of the new religion must have served to "howed'tiie commend it strongly to the acceptance of the Teutonic same re- races — its respect for the character of woman. The women, women of the Germans often dwelt in camps with their husbands. Their children were born and edu cated amidst the spectacles and dangers of war. Even among the pirate hordes of Scandinavia, all the better elements of the chivalry known in a later age in Europe may be found, imbued with some loftier qualities, which our later chivalry was too Asiatic in its texture to embrace. Among the Teutonic nations, women were the companions and equals of the men, not the mere instruments of their pleasures. The strong feeling of the Asiatic is short-lived. He soon learns to dispense with his toy when obtained. Even the Greeks and Romans knew little of the Germanic sentiment in this respect. The penalties with which the northern nations guarded the chastity of women, and the worship shown by them towards virgins who remained such for religious reasons, is known from REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 215 many sources besides the Germania of Tacitus. No- bookii. thing seemed to them so fitting, as an expression of 1—' the religious spirit, as the consecration of women to its service. In the East, the highest function of reli gion — inspiration, was almost confined to men. In the north of Europe the rule was reversed. The high est gifts there came upon women. The Veleda of Tacitus had her successors among the believers in the Edda. In all this we see a state of mind disposing the Saxon and the Dane to accept the prescribed wor ship of the Virgin, and to conform to a system which raised female piety to the place of the saint and intercessor, awarding the highest praise to those who chose virginity in this life, that they might rise to the higher purity of the next.* Naturally allied with the worship of saints was the j^*' . worship of angels. Natural, too, was it, that the regard to worship of the good among created natures, should be °Sprf connected with fear of the evU among them. The mythology which brought benignant natures into near connexion with human affairs for benevolent ends, would be sure to bring malignant natures into action for ends not benevolent. Heathenism, creature wor ship, has always presented these two aspects. In this view, the Christianity of the seventh century had become too nearly assimilated to the false religions to which it should have been opposed, and which it should have superseded. As the long disputes of the church concerning the nature ofthe Deity came to an end, men seemed to faU into the habit of thinking less and less of the presence of the Divine Being, and appear to see the government of mundane things as if left more and more in the hands of these subordinate agencies. Hence the spiritual revolution accomplished by the Christianity of this period was much more limited and imperfect than it should have been. * Tacit. Germ, viii.-xi. Hist. iv. 16. Mallet, North. Antiq. c. viii.— xi. church. 216 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. In the conflict which came up between the heathen- HAP" 7" ism of the Saxon and the Dane and this form of resuitain-at Christianity, three great results are observable. The voived in first consists in the class of facts presented in the cha- tion of Eeii- racter and history of the more ambitious of the Anglo- £10n' Saxon clergy, who became intent on raising their order to the position of a new power in the state. The second, in such facts as had their origin in the as cetic spirit of the ecclesiastical system of the period. The third, in such effects as served to show the great gain to humanity from the displacing of the heathen faith by the Christian, notwithstanding the evils arising from the two sources above named. prtestiy Where the supreme power is strong and arbitrary, power in whether in rude communities, or in a civilized despo- saxon tism, the power of the ministers of rehgion has been commonly felt as a needful check on its excesses. Barbarian chiefs trusting to their sword, or monarchs living in the midst of the splendours and flatteries of an Asiatic sovereignty, have been disposed to look with less apprehension on the power of the priest, than on power as existing elsewhere. To hsten to the expostulations of a priest has been felt as detracting nothing from their greatness, inasmuch as the voice of the priest might be the voice of the authority whence that of kings themselves is supposed by such men to have been derived. But the strength of the priest must be simply moral or spiritual strength ; and the contests arising between sovereign and priest, accord ingly, must often seem to be maintained between bel ligerents whose resources are very unequal. But if the clergy were bound to feel that their weapons were not carnal, they could readily persuade themselves that what they might not do by force, they were at liberty to accomphsh by such other means as were at their command. Here, as everywhere, craft came to be very largely the refuge of the weak against the strong.* * Heeren, Besearches : Persia, c. ii. ; Egypt, app. § iv. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 217 Here too, as everywhere, the apparent necessity for bookii. availing themselves of such means, seemed to change HAP' 7" the nature of the means. The disingenuous, the false, often ceased to appear as they had been wont to appear. That there are circumstances in which ends sanctify means, is a maxim which had been received and acted upon very widely long before Rome, ecclesi astical or civU, came into existence. This inversion of moral feeling in the governed, is one of the effects sure to be produced by a harsh and arbitrary sway on the part of those who govern. In comparison with the barbarian chiefs who led the warriors of the north southward, the Christian clergy whom they encountered in these new regions might seem to be utterly powerless. But these clergy were the ministers of the God of these new regions ; and whether attempting to convert the barbarous strangers, or to influence their conduct when converted, these men always spoke in the name of their God. It was natural, in such circumstances, that the clergy should be disposed to magnify their office. It was the one instrument by which they might hope to protect themselves, and those who looked up to them as protectors.* Motives arising from this source — motives by no Policy of means whoUy selfish, or whoUy insincere — prompted *ai a^gy " the clergy to give their sanction in so large a measure „nr^on7 to the popular faith in miracles. Many of them must awe or in- have been aware that this credulity of the people was 8mcere' often grossly abused. But it can hardly be doubted that the clergy themselves were firm believers in the * Ethelbert, the first Anglo-Saxon king who professed Christianity, was induced to make the penalty for wrong done to church property twelve times greater than was provided against the same wrongs as done to the property of the laity ; and to the latest period in Anglo-Saxon history the difference in favour of the church was as seven to one. So of the private possessions of churchmen — the penalties which guarded the property of the bishop were elevenfold, the priests ninefold, the deacons sixfold. — Ancient Laws and Institutes of England, i. 393. 218 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. perpetuity of miraculous powers in the church. Every _AP' 7' reader of Bede's Ecclesiastical History must derive this impression from it. Such men could not of course be insensible to the value of such apparent attestations to their own authority, and would not be much in clined to disturb the popular belief by indulging in doubtful criticism on such matters. Heathen priests everywhere laid claim to prophecy and miracle. They made the interference of their gods in human affairs to be perpetual. They pointed to a hereafter of happiness or the contrary as awaiting those whom they were wont themselves to pronounce as worthy or unworthy. The Christian clergy had to deal with these pretensions. They did so by claiming miraculous powers for the church; by bringing many supernatural agencies" into the concerns of this world; and too often by materializing heaven and heU to the extent deemed necessary adequately to affect the hopes and fears of the society about them. How far they were them selves deceived in making such representations can not now be determined. But in the prevalence of such beliefs and feelings they found the machinery of their power, and freely and skilfully did they avail themselves of such appliances. The help of this kind which they needed came ; and by means of it, in great part, they were to become, a new power, in the state of things which followed upon the new settlement of the northern nations. fessionai" ^-n prosecuting this policy the Anglo-Saxon clergy,- in common with their order over Europe, made a free use of the confessional, and of their supposed autho rity to absolve delinquents from their siris, and to dis pense the gifts of grace. Documents have come down to our time which show, that not only the common sins of the people, but all the secret and imaginary forms of vice, had been reduced to a system, that the confessor might be adequately prepared for the discharge of his office. Secret things belonging to personal history, to family history, to aU history, were REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 219 thus to be laid open ; and vices which had never book ii. entered the thoughts of the penitent, were thus made JUL" familiar to the imagination by the questionings of the priest. With these almost endless distinctions of evd, came a scheme of penalties of almost endless elabora tion. In some of these penalties we may trace a con cern for the sincere restoration of the offender ; but in the many fiscal exactions which were made, if some care was shown for the poor, there was no want of care for the church and the clergy.* At the same time, it was zealously inculcated, that without confession there could be no absolution, and that without absolution there could be no fitness to partake of the communion — no salvation.-)- Of course the Roman clergy brought this scheme with them ; and the more they were able to free themselves from the presence of the Scottish missiona ries, the more easy it became to act on this system in all its parts. Concerning some other uses to which this theory Exaction c i i ti • i i i of church of church power was applied, a judgment may be dues. formed from the following canon enacted under king Edgar : ' And we enjoin that the priest remind the ' people of what they ought to do to God for dues ' in tithes, and in other things : first-plough alms, ' fifteen days after Easter ; and a tithe of young by ' Pentecost ; and of earth-fruits by All-Saints ; and ' ' Romfeoh' by St. Peter's mass ; and church-scot by ' Martinmas.'! The priest in the Anglo-Saxon church, was required to preach to the. people every * In one of these directories for priests, the penitent, after confessing all remembered sins, of the mind, and the flesh, that nothing may be omitted, is made to say : ' I confess to thee all the sins Of- my body, of skin, of flesh, and of bones, and of sinews, and of veins, and of gristles, and of tongue, and of lips, and of gums, and of teeth, and of hair, and of marrow, and of everything, soft or hard, wet or dry.' — Ancient Laws and Institutes qf England, 404. t Ibid. 158, 159, 415. X Ancient Laws, 400. For the fines imposed in case of neglect on any of these points, and the mode in which distraint was to be made, see the Laws of Ethelred y 147. 220 SAXONS AND DANES. book u. Sunday — we do not know how often his preaching was — _' on such topics.* In regard to the clergy of the Mid dle Age generaUy, some excuse should be made, inas much as they were shepherds who had to sustain their authority over flocks not always given to obedience. The clergy among the Anglo-Saxons who made the largest use of these elements of rule, were distin guished by the homage they were disposed to render to the Papal See. They were wise enough to discern the advantage of aUying everything of this nature with the prestige to be derived from the fame, the splendour, and the authority of Rome. The first man, in the history of the Anglo-Saxon church, who became conspicuous by his zeal in this direction, was Wilfrid, bishop of York. wnfrid. Wilfrid was the son of a wealthy family in Northumbria. He was a man of commanding pre sence, of good parts, restless and energetic, and withal, we must add, not a httle vain and ambitious. With these last qualities, however, he combined a sufficient amount of prudence and self-government to allow of his acquiring considerable reputation as a religious man. His Christian sincerity, indeed, should be con ceded. But his passion appears to have been, to asso ciate with the faith he professed as much of secular pomp and authority as might well be brought into such a relation. His principal biographer has disfigured his early hfe with fictions, and is so manifestly partial, that aU statements from that quarter "must be ac cepted with caution, f In 654 Wilfrid made a journey to Rome. There * Ancient Laws, 400. Laws of Alfred, 24. Laws of Alfred and Gothrum,j3. Laws of Edgar, 114, 146, i$6. Some of the laws designed to regulate the conduct of the clergy are curious. Priests, besides their own ' lore,' are required to learn some handicraft. Monumenta Ecclesiastica, 396, 400, 447, 448. They were not to be gleemen, hunters, or hawkers, but to apply themselves to their books, and to have orthodox books (398, 400—1, 418).' It is enjoined, too, that no priest should take the scholar of another (396). What does this mean ? t Eddius, Vit. S. Wilfridi. Bede, Eccles. Hist. v. c. 19, et alibi. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 221 the young Saxon was much flattered by persons high book ii. in authority, as a man of no ordinary promise. After Cbap' 7' sitting at the feet of learned men in Rome, and spend ing several years in some of the principal cities of the Continent, Wilfrid returned a traveUed man, to be looked upon with wonder by many of his homely countrymen. The first grateful return made by Wilfrid for the favour shown to him in Rome, was in opposing him self to the Scottish clergy on the question about the time of keeping Easter, and on some other matters. This question about Easter was attended by some material inconveniences. In the famUy of the king of Northumbria, for example, the queen, who had been educated in Kent, followed the Roman custom, and might be seen humbling herself as in Lent, whUe her husband, who foUowed his Scottish instructors, might be quite otherwise employed, because with him the season for humdiation had given place to the season for rejoicing. It was, accordingly, deemed expedient that a meet- The debates ing of the two parties should be convened, that so at Whitby- ' this diversity of usage might, if possible, be brought to an end. The parties met at Whitby. Wdfrid, accompanied by the bishop of Paris, and other distin guished men, took the Romanist side. Colman, bishop of Lindisfarne, and his Scottish brethren, pleaded the authority of the line of tradition, through Anatolius and Columba, to the Apostle John. To the authority of Columba Wilfrid opposed that of St. Peter, 'to ' whom the keys of heaven had been given.' Here the king interposed to ask, ' Is it so ; do you admit ' that St. Peter has the keys of heaven ?' Colman, it is said, replied in the affirmative. ' Then I decide for St. ' Peter,' said the king, ' as I know not what the con- ' sequence may be of doing otherwise.' .This matter being settledthus summarily, the tonsure questionremained. TheScottishbrethrenshavedthehair from the front of their head in the form of a crescent. 222 SAXONS AND DANES. chaK "' ^e -^°maiis removed it from the crown of the head — 1_ ' in the form of a circle. On this wreighty matter the king was sdent. But Wilfrid urged the authority of St. Peter for the tonsure, as for the keeping of Easter, and insisted that the monks of Iona must have bor rowed their usage from Simon Magus.* One thing is clear, if Wilfrid did not bring much learning to this discussion, he brought an abundance of effrontery and dogmatism. From this time the Roman custom gained ground, and at no distant day became general. Colman relinquished his bishopric and returned to Iona. Not long after this discussion at Whitby, Wilfrid was chosen bishop of York. But, unhappdy, of all the bishops then in England, one only was found to be free from the schismatic taint of the Scots in the matter of Easter and the tonsure — a fact which suggests much in regard to the extent of the field which had been covered by the labours of the Scots in England down to this period. In this difficulty, WUfrid resolved to seek ordination in France. At Compiegne, the zeal pf the Saxon ecclesiastic in the cause of the -true Catholic discipline was honoured by the presence of twelve pre lates at his consecration. The gilded chair in which Wilfrid was placed, was borne aloft by the same num ber of episcopal hands — no person of a lower dignity being allowed to touch it. So gratifying to the stranger were these marks of esteem, that a long in terval passed, it is said three years, before his return. In the meanwhUe another had been appointed to his see. But one of the first things done by Theodore, the new archbishop of Canterbury, was to secure the re-election of Wilfrid to the see of York.f Hisaisputes In this position the bishop found means to gratify SdhThS-id his taste for splendour, and by his novel achievements dore- in architecture, in decoration, and in other matters of ' ecclesiastical pageantry, he filled the country with talk * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. c, 25. ¦f Bede, Eccles. Hist. iii. c. 27. Eddius, c. xii. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 223 and wonder. Even the king and the court, it was book tt. said, were overshadowed by the bishop and his cathe- ^f!_" dral.( But with tastes of this description, Wilfrid could blend, upon occasion, a monastic severity of manners. He weU knew, as all sagacious churchmen have known, how to make these opposite elements work towards one result. Etheheda, the queen of Egfrid of Northumbria, had made a vow of virginity. It is said that a former hus band had respected that vow. Wilfrid, in his function as a priest, decided that Egfrid ought to respect it, and went so far as to favour the escape of the queen to a convent. Egfrid deeply resented this proceeding. Ercemburga, whom he afterwards married, regarded Wilfrid with a stdl deeper aversion. She pointed to his buildings, his lands, his hospitalities, and his fol lowers and retainers, and to aU as showing that the man who could play the monk so demurely, when that mood might avail him, was resolved on being accounted the greatest in the land, the king not excepted.* Theodore of Canterbury ' was a Greek of Tarsus, who, at the request of the king of Kent, had been chosen by the pope to fill that see. He became in tent on adjusting the affairs of the Anglo-Saxon churches, so as to secure conformity throughout the Heptarchy to the authority and usage of the see of Canterbury. In prosecution of this object he assem bled a council at- Hertford, and proceeded to divide large bishoprics into smaUer, both in East Anglia and in Mercia. His next step was to do the same with the bishopric of Vork.f Resistance had been made to * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iv. c. 19, 20. Historia Eliensis, i. 26. Mabill. Act. SS. Ord. S. Bened. ii. 711. It is singular that Eddius speaks of Wilfrid as having a son. No reproach was cast on him on this account. We must suppose, therefore, that his son was born in wedlock. But when did he marry? Scarcely before he was a priest. We know nothing, however, of his wife. t Pope Gregory had urged that the bishoprics of the Anglo-Saxons should be divided so as to be small. Bede, in his well-known epistle to Egbert, urges the same thing. 224 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. what was done in East Anglia and Mercia ; but two f^IL.7, malcontent prelates had been deposed by the firm hand of the metropohtan. Wilfrid protested against the contemplated change in his diocese. Egfrid and Theodore insisted on submission. To their amaze- wiifrid ment Wilfrid signified his intention to take the case Eome. to the Papal See, and to seek judgment upon it there. This was to pour oU upon the flame. That the pope might advise, or counsel, in regard to ecclesiastical matters in England, or elsewhere, was understood. But that he should be appealed to in this manner, as an authority, and an authority beyond and above both king and metropolitan, was regarded in this country at that time, as a piece of extravagant presumption, bordering upon treason.* Wilfrid^ however, was better versed than his oppo nents in the precedents and maxims of the papacy in relation to such cases. He knew that such acknow ledgments of the appellant jurisdiction which the see of Rome was aiming to consolidate, were always welcome in that quarter. In fact, the principles involved in this appeal were to be the ground of con troversies between the papal see and the crowned heads of Europe through centuries to come. Mes sengers were sent, it is said, to Theodoric, king of the Franks, and to Embroin, mayor of the palace, to arrest Wilfrid on his way, and to put his followers to the sword. Wilfrid's biographer assures us, on the other hand, that the bishop left England on this errand amidst the tears of many thousands of his monks. But the elements favoured the escape of the de linquent prelate. The vessel in which he embarked was driven on the coast of Friesland. The pagan Frisians, and the Christian bishop thus cast upon their shores, spoke the same language. Wilfrid, with the versatile power, and the love of action, which cha racterized him, gave himself to the work of a mis- * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iv. c. 3, 4. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 225 sionary among these people. The influence he acquired book ii. over them by his preaching, and by the interest which CnAP' 7'' he evinced in their affairs, disposed him to extend his stay among them nearly twelve months. The fisheries of the year proved unusually successful. The grateful people attributed this to the coming of the stranger, and to the Good Being whose minister he was. The man who had contributed to give his Northumbrian countrymen, in place of their buildings of wood covered with reeds and thatch, edifices of stone covered with lead, and protected and adorned with glass ; who, when opening the church he had buUt at Ripon, a budding constructed of smoothed stone, with its aisles formed by lofty columns, might be seen standing on the steps of the altar, and heard reading over, in the presence of king and nobles, and of a wondering crowd of people, descriptions of lands assigned to that church, and of other lands in that district once assigned to sacred uses when the Britons who dwelt there were Christians, and in effect claiming that those lands should be restored — the man, in short, who, in his policy and bearing, seemed to an ticipate aU that the great churchmen in after ages were to become in our history, is the man who may now be seen inspecting the nets of the Frisian fisher men, seated in the huts of their humble famUies, or gathering about him the king, and the chiefs, and the people of that rude land, that he might preach to them the Universal Fatherhood of the One True God, and the coming of his Son to die for man's salvation.* In this honourable service WUfrid was the precursor of Wdbrord, and Boniface, and other English mis sionaries, who did so much to bring Germany under the influence of Christianity. Two years passed before Wilfrid presented himself * Eddius, c. xvi. xvii. It is proper to state, that in his architectural achievements, Wilfrid had been anticipated in a good degree, and in a much less ostentatious manner, by Benedict Biscop, the founder of Wear mouth Abbey. — Bede, Vitae Ab. I Q 226 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. to the pope, and obtained the decision of a Roman — _ ' synod in his favour. Armed with the decree of pope Agatho and his synod, which doomed the layman to perdition, the ecclesiastic to deprivation, who should dare to resist it, Wilfrid returned to England. But the time when papal thunder should be terrible had not come. Theodore heeded it not. Egfrid treated it with derision. WUfrid was thrown into prison, and placed in solitary confinement. Released, after a while, he would have sought an asylum in Mercia or in Wessex. But the queen of Mercia was a sister of Egfrid ; the queen of Wessex was a sister of Erceni- burga. It was in these circumstances that Wilfrid turned his footsteps towards Sussex, and sought the home among pagans which seemed to be denied him among Christians. We might have supposed that the country of the South Saxons would have been one of the last to prove attractive to the exded bishop. For it had happened that, on his way from France, after the extravagant ceremony of his ordination, WUfrid was wrecked on the coast of Sussex. The people along that coast were wont to claim aU that feU into then hands from shipwreck as lawful spod, seizing the property as their own, and seUing the people as slaves. The vessel was stranded, but the crew resolved to defend themselves to the last. Wilfrid and his attendant ecclesiastics encouraged the seamen in their purpose by exhorta tions, and by loud prayer for their success. But the pagans had their spiritual weapons as well as the Christians. Upon a rising ground opposite them was the pagan priest, using his enchantments and calling upon his gods. But in the fray, a stone from a sling entered the head of the priest, and he fell dead. The sailors had bravely repulsed the wreckers in three onsets, when the tide rose, the wind became favour able, the vessel floated, and was again to sea. Wilfrid, in now looking towards Sussex, was aware that, though the people were pagans, the king and REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 227 queen had received baptism as Christians. There was book ii. also a feeble colony of Scottish monks at Boshun, near ^1!L ' Chichester. But nothing effectual had been done ™aP,each- towards converting the people. The preaching ofsussex. Wilfrid was a new thing among them. He taught them, moreover, many useful arts along with the doctrines of the Gospel. In a time of great dearth he instructed them in fishing, so as to give them a new and unexpected supply of their wants. ' In gratitude for these services, Selsey — the Isle of Seals — was as signed to him as a residence; and in that place he exercised his functions as a bishop over a considerable body of clergy for five years.* Subsequently, Wdfrid prosecuted his labours as an evangehst in the Isle of Wight, under the favour of CeadwaUa, who had become possessed of the throne of Wessex. But death removed archbishop Theodore. Egfrid of Northumbria feU in battle. Aldfrid, his son, restored WUfrid to his see. Still the troubles of WU frid were not at an end. Aldfrid had been educated in the school of Iona. Wilfrid's reverence for the papacy, and passion for prelatical magnificence, had increased rather than diminished. Aldfrid was dis posed to check these tendencies ; and on his attempting to elevate Ripon into a bishopric, WUfrid resisted, and again feU into disgrace. In a national councU assembled at Eastonfield, the council of n . -ii ni 1. i • Eastonfield. refractory prelate was called, upon to express his un qualified submission to certain constitutions drawn up by the late archbishop Theodore. Wilfrid, so self. governed and genial in his manner towards inferior^, betrayed on this occasion the haughty and passionate temper natural to him. He expressed his surprise that the council should think of placing the authority of archbishop Theodore, a branded schismatic, before that of the pope ; censured his accusers as having in curred the gudt of resisting the judgment of the * Bede, Eccles. Hist. iv. c. 13, ig. Eddius. q2 228 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. Roman see for now more than twenty vears ; and Chap i •/ ' recounting what he had done to bring the churches of the different states into a nearer relation to that great centre of ecclesiastical unity, he told them emphatically that his case should again be submitted to that tri bunal for decision. Nor were these empty words. Though seventy years of age, Wilfrid again presented himself in Rome, and again judgment was given in his favour. But the words of king Aldfrid were, ' For ' no writing, coming as ye say from the apostolic ' chair, wdl I consent to alter one word of a sentence ' that has been agreed to by myself, the archbishop, ' and the dignities of this land.' On the death of Aldfrid, however, many influences were employed to bring about the restoration of Wilfrid to his see. This was at length accomplished. He died shortly after, at the age of seventy-six.* of^^rf"* ^ke Hfe of WUfrid would be of smaU interest if it of wiifnd. concerned himself alone. But it is highly iUustrative of his age. It shows how great was the influence of the Scottish missionaries among the Christian states of the Heptarchy; how foreign to the notions of the Anglo-Saxons of that day was that appellant jurisdic tion in the Roman see, so boldly insisted on in later times ; how early the type of the ruling churchman of the Middle Age — combining the ascetic and the worldly, the patronage of monks with the defiance of crowned heads — began to make its appearance among us ; and how soon our rude Germanic forefathers gave evidence of being capable of throwing aU their cha racteristic energy into a new creed, of substituting .civilized tastes for those of the barbarian, and the battles of the ecclesiastical leader for those of the old sea-king. The inteUigence, refinement, and con victions of the Saxon bishop, as compared with the priest of Saxon paganism, gave him a position which was new in the history of his race ; and if we see how * Eddius, c. 42 et seq. Bede, Eccles. Hist. v. c. 19. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 229 these acquisitions were used for evU, we can also see book ii. how they were used for good. HAP' 7" For the next memorable exhibition of the sacerdotal oao and st. spirit in Anglo-Saxon history, we descend from the monacws^ age of Wilfrid to that of Odo and Dunstan — two cen- '^jjfjjj;. turies later. To this interval belong some of the tory. most destructive ravages of the Northmen. But to this interval also belong the names of Egbert, and Alfred, and Athelstan. The splendour of the reigns of Athelstan and Edgar was favourable to the aspira tions of ecclesiastical ambition. AU the forms of Christianity which obtained a footing in Britain in this early period of its history, included a strong element of monasticism. What we know concerning the monks of Bangor and Iona, presents evidence enough on this point as regards the Britons and the Scots ; and the forty monks in the procession of Augustine as he entered into Canterbury, were only an instalment of what was to follow. The rough energy of the Anglo-Saxon was not likely to bow to -any system the character and outward signs of which were not strongly marked. With such a people, there was much in the separation and the self- consecration which seemed to be characteristic of the monastic life, to give it impressiveness and power. Hence among those who professed themselves Chris tians, not a few took up that profession in its severest forms. In this island of the West, as in the crowded cities of the East, the quiet and seclusion of the con vent became attractive in the measure in which it was felt that to be in the world was to be in the midst of unsettledness, suffering, and crime. The great multiplication of monasteries in the early history of Anglo-Saxon Christianity resulted largely from such influences. Much delusion no doubt lay under these appearances. We feel obliged to suppose that the firmer and warlike temper of the Anglo-Saxons was unduly diminished by this means, so as to have ren dered them unequal to the crisis when compelled to 230 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. stand face to face with the Northmen. Certainly, chaf^j. ^e impression of the Northmen was, that the new faith of the Saxons had destroyed their old courage, though the occasions were not few in which they were undeceived in that matter. And many who fled to the monastery did not find monks aU that they seemed to be. The good expected from such com panionships was not always realized. Nevertheless, the influence of the institute was great and enduring. Even the clerks — the secular clergy, as they were called, in distinction from the monks — lived in the places where their first rude cathedrals had made their appearance, much as the monks hved, having all things in common under their bishop. The progress of Christianity soon required that clergymen should be located in parishes ; but the bishop always retained a considerable number of clergy with him who lived together, conducted the cathedral service, and went forth under episcopal direction to the discharge of various official duties in the surrounding district. The residents in connexion with our cathedrals to this day give us the form of this old usage without its spirit.* Mamage - But in the time of Odo and Dunstan, the clergy in A™ghf- e England, in common with their brethren over a great part of the Continent, were, many of them, we may perhaps say most of them, married men. At that time, strange as it may sound to modern ears, this might be said of the monks, as weU as of the parochial and cathedral priesthood. The monks of St. Bene dict, introduced by Wilfrid and Benedict Biscop, took the vow of chastity, as it was called. + But the monks of Wales and of Iona gave no such pledge, and often availed themselves of their liberty to marry. During Saxon clergy. * Kerable's Anglo-Saxons, books ii. viii. f Bede, Vitae Ab. Bede, in his epistle to Egbert, gives a sad picture of some of the monasteries in his time. But his zeal on the side of the celibacy of ecclesiastical persons makes his authority less weighty on these points than on some others. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 231 the ninth century the Benedictines were all but annihi- book ii. lated by the swords of the Danes. So that when !!!!_' Dunstan broached his project of reform in the middle of the tenth century, the monks of Glastonbury and Abingdon were the only men of their profession who had bound themselves to a life of celibacy.* Dunstan has been justly described as the Hilde- oao and brand of the Anglo-Saxon church. He resolved, if reformers. possible, to force the law of celibacy on all ecclesias tical persons. By this policy, HUdebrand would have severed such persons from all the ties of family and country, and would have substituted in the place of both, a passion for the splendour and power of the church — that is, of the clergy. The aim of Dunstan, a century earher, if not to the same extent defined and avowed, was to the same effect. He would have merged the patriot and the man in the priest. Edgar, succeeding the unfortunate Edwy, deemed it wise to avad himself of the power of Dunstan and his party. By royal warrant, many of the married clergy were expeUed. Bitter strife was diffused from one end of England to the other. But the successes of the re formers were partial only, even in their life-time, and httle signs of them were perceptible twenty years after their decease, f Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, who distinguished himself in this crusade against the married clergy, was a Dane, and had been a mditary chief. He had become a student and a scholar, but brought not a little of the severe temper which men expect in the camp, into the affairs of the church. Dunstan had been from his youth, and from choice, a monk, and a monk of the greatest zeal in aU things monastic. But with the asceticism of the anchorite he combined * Wharton's Anglia Sacra, i. 218. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, book ii. c. viii. Lappenberg, ii. 128 et seq. t Laws and Institutes of England. Edgar's Laws, 1 11— 114. Osborn. Eadmer. Malms, de Beg. lib. ii. c. 7. Vita Duns. Mil- man's. History of Latin Christianity, iii. 11 3- 11 6. 232 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. the ingenuities of the man of science, and the taste, HAP" 7' in some degree, of the man of letters. The genius, however, which qualified him to excel as a statesman, and in other secular pursuits, was accounted of value only as it might be made to subserve his policy as a churchman. More than once the secular clergy pre vented his elevation from his position as abbot of Glastonbury to a bishopric. But he at length became bishop of Worcester, bishop of London, and arch bishop of Canterbury, ending a life in which, accord ing to his biographers, his miracles almost ceased to be such from their frequency, only that his tomb might become still more famous for such prodigies after his death. His name has a conspicuous place among the saints in the Roman calendar. story of The conduct of Odo and Dunstan towards Edwy and EigTva.an Elgiva is described in some form in aU our histories. Edwy, who was but sixteen years of age on his acces sion, had married Elgiva, a lady who must have been of noble, if not of royal descent, inasmuch as the mar riage was said to have been invalid on the ground of consanguinity. Edwy, it seems, on the day of his coronation, withdrew earlier than was deemed respect ful from the table where the bishops and thanes were at their festivity. At the suggestion of Odo, the bishop of Lichfield and the abbot of Glastonbury went in search of the king, whom they found in an apartment with his wife and the females of his family. Edwy was unwilling to return to the drinkers in the haU; upon which Dunstan, himself then but just thirty years of age, seized the king vehemently by the hand, replaced the crown, which he had laid aside, upon his head, and applied offensive names to the females present, who protested against his rudeness. In this manner he forced the young king back to his forsaken seat. It is possible that Edwy had been at fault. But the conduct of Dunstan betrayed so much priestly insolence, that nothing could be more REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 233 natural than the deep resentment of the king and his book ii. ... * r ° Chap. 7. relatives. Edwy now called upon Dunstan to produce the treasure which the late king had committed to his trust. Dunstan evaded this demand by quitting the kingdom. The young king, however, was no match for the difficulties which such a quarrel entailed upon him. His measures against the monastic party dis posed them to conspire against him in favour of his younger brother Edgar. Mercia and Northumbria were induced to withdraw their allegiance from him. Odo was connected with Wessex, and remained nomi nally faithful to the king. But he insisted that Elgiva should be put away. The servants of the archbishop forced the unhappy queen from her palace, branded her countenance with hot irons, to efface her beauty, and banished her to Ireland. And we have aU heard the rest — that after a short time her beauty was re stored ; that she returned to England in search of her husband ; that at Gloucester she fed again into the hands of the mditary servants of Odo, who subjected her to cruel mutdation by severing the sinews of her legs ; and that a few days later, both king and queen died, from broken-heartedness, or from some foul play which has never come to light, f * Malmsbury, ii. 7. Hist. Barnes, c. 7 ; Wallingford, 1543 ; and the Cotton. MSS. relating to the history of Abingdon ; all speak of Elgiva as the wife of Edwy. The Saxon Chron. also says that Odo separated them ' because they were too nearly related' — ad an. 958. According to the biographers of Dunstan, Elgiva was not the wife of Edwy, and they heap all kinds of abuse on that lady and her mother. But with these men a wife within the prohibited degrees would be no wife, and the savage fanaticism with which they write almost puts them out of court. In the language of churchmen in those days all marriages not according to the canons were adulterous. t Chron. Sax. an. 958. Osborn, de Vita Odonis, ap. Wharton, lib. i. 84. Flor. Wigorn. an. g$g. Hist. Barnes, c. 14. Malms, de Pont. lib. i. * Bex Westsaxonium Edwinus in pago Gloucestrensi interfectus fuit.' — Turner, from the Cott. MS. Hist. Anglo-Sax. ubi supra. 234 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Such deeds could sacerdotalism perpetrate, and perpe- HAP" 7' trate with impunity, at some junctures in Anglo-Saxon history. Enough has been stated to show how this temper, especiaUy as allied with its great coadjutor monasticism, could make void all the great principles of natural morality, whenever the interests of churchmen might be served by such means. Nothing can exceed the extravagance with which the triumphant party applaud the conduct of Dunstan and Odo, or the in humanity with which they write concerning the suf ferings inflicted on their victims. The insults, the slanders, the mutilations, the murders — aU are holy, pre-eminently holy. Odo even acquires the name of Odo ' the Good.' Edgar, who succeeds his brother, in place of resting in the venial fault of being over-fond of an affectionate wife, fills the land with tales and ballads relating to his amours. The daughters of the best families were liable to be demanded as instruments of his pleasures, even under the roof of their parents. The convent ' itself was no security against the lawlessness of his pas sions. Nor did he scruple to use the dagger to avenge himself on the man who interposed between him and such gratifications. But his one virtue, in becoming the tool of an ambitious priesthood, was allowed to cover his multitude of sins.* The better It would be easy to multiply instances showing the chrisSanuy extent to which that pharisaical tendency which puts over Angio- ^g ritual and politv of church organizations before the Saxon , ' . sx J o Britain. ' weightier matters of the law, had found place in the Christian life of the Saxons and Danes in Britain. But we forbear. It will be more agreeable to look to the features of the new life introduced by Christianity which are of a better kind. The only written laws which have reached us from the Anglo-Saxon period of our history, are laws which have come from kings professing Christianity, and * Malms, de Beg. ii. 8. REVOLUTION IN RELIGION.. 235 acting in conjunction with the Christian clergy.* In bookii. justification of an apparent severity in some of these — '— ' enactments, it may be mentioned, that the weight of penalty is nowhere greater, upon the whole, than in the laws of Alfred. f In many instances, too, we can trace the influence of the clergy in abating rigour in this respect, and in urging from time to time that laws of the severer kind, which it was not deemed expedient to repeal or to amend, should be administered with a humane discretion.! Care for the poor and the weak is also to be placed among the unquestion able virtues of the Anglo-Saxon clergy. One-third only of the contributions made professedly to the church was appropriated to their own use. The next third was reserved for the repairs of church buildings, and for the expenses of pubhc worship. The remain ing third, or at least a fourth, was assigned to the poor.§ No one can charge these men with being respecters of persons. It was their manner generally to exact the right thing, whether in behalf of thane or serf, of the lord "or of his man. The frequent preach ing enjoined on the parish priest must have been, with aU its faults, a great benefit to the people. || The language of such men as Bede, and Egbert, and Elfric, on the duties of the Christian pastor, oblige us to suppose that there were not a few in those times who had learnt to estimate their pastoral work very much according to a scriptural standard. When we find great importance attached to being able to repeat the creed and the paternoster, we may be disposed to think that the Christian inteUigence existing among such a people must have been very low. But the fact does not warrant any strong inference of that nature. Such facts occur among ourselves where no such con- * Ancient Laws and Institutions of England, including laws from Ethelbert to Edward the Confessor. t Ibid. 27-4J. X IWd- x35> l6l> I16> I71> 354- § Ibid. 146,445. || Ibid. 445. 236 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. elusion is admissible. On the sacredness of an oath, — L. ' on the importance of truth-speaking in aU things, and on just conduct between man and man, the teaching of the Anglo-Saxon priest was grave, reiterated, and enforced by appeals to the most weighty motives. No thoughtful man will undervalue such influences in their relation to the great interests of society. Bede. The venerable Bede, we scarcely need say, may be cited as an example of the Christian hfe of the better kind among our Saxon ancestors. But even his Christianity had its aUoy. His credulity, for such a man, was extraordinary. In his narratives concerning his times, the miraculous is not only so common as to meet you at every step, but it is often so puerile as to deserve to be placed among some of the most con temptible inventions of that nature in church history. He was also considerably infected with the error of his times in regard to the supposed virtues of celibacy ; and concerning the intention of married life, and the laws to which it should be subject, even when per mitted. Nothing, in fact, can exceed his occasional extravagance on these topics. Those Manichean doc trines, which degrade the domestic and social relations in the name of religion, were avowed and inculcated by Bede in the worst manner of his day, and he thus contributed his share towards the mischiefs which resulted from them. But on most other matters he expressed himself with great sobriety and good sense. His judgment and his heart were in the main candid and liberal. He differed from the Scottish mission aries, but he did so charitably. He was himself catholic and orthodox, but he appreciates honestly the good to be found in the example or writings of men who were not so accounted. Above all, to his severe labours as a student, he added the feeling of fervent piety — of a piety largely allied with aU those virtues which fit men to become benefactors in regard to the things of this life, whde fixing their strongest aspira tions on another. The character of Bede as before us REVOLUTION IN RELIGION. 237 in his memorable epistle to his friend archbishop book ii. Egbert, exhibits sound sense combined with resolute C"AP' 7' honesty, and with a deep devoutness of spirit. We can believe that in this type of piety we see that of not a few among our Saxon fathers. Benedict Biscop, the founder of the abbey at Wear- Bisoop. mouth, and the friend and patron of Bede, appears to have been distinguished by aU the good qualities which became so conspicuous in his protege. Aidan, if less Aidan. remarkable as a scholar, was more abundant than either of these good men in the apostolic work of oral teaching, making his voice and presence familiar to the people of the whole space of country extending from Hull to Edinburgh, and from Sunderland to White haven. Nor did the spirit of Aidan die with him. To Egbert, the archbishop of York, Bede could offer counsel on the duties of a Christian prelate of the holiest description, assured that it would not be offered in vain. And while such men prosecuted their various labours at home, many of their countrymen — as WU- brord, Boniface, Willibald, and WUlehad — became distinguished as missionaries abroad. Boniface became the apostle of Germany. Wilbrord taught with suc cess from Friesland to the Rhine. According to Alcuin, no mean authority, Wilbrord was a man of a noble aspect and deportment, of great moderation and prudence, eminently holy and forbearing, of a most persuasive eloquence, and distinguished by courage, patience, and perseverance. Willibald and WUlehad were men scarcely less remarkable. But it is in such men as Alfred and Alcuin that we see the fullest influence of Christianity on the Anglo-Saxon mind — piety without asceticism, faith without cre dulity, the noble in manhood elevated in aU things by the pure in religion. Concerning these great men we shall have something more to say elsewhere. The names we have mentioned may be taken as those of classes representing the great phases of the Christian life in the experience of our Saxon and Danish 238 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. ancestors. The sacerdotal, the superstitious, and the HAF" 7' truly Christian, all were there — these elements being more distinct and prominent in some, and more variously combined in others. In some instances, the Christianity adopted is manifestly so superstitious, fanatical, and demoralizing, that we are almost disposed to doubt whether it would not have been better that such men should have remained in their old heathen ism. But these instances were not common. Speaking generally, the integrity, the benevolence, and the purity reahzed by the religion of the Cross, were such as the mythology of the Saxon and Northman sea-kings could never have called into existence; and such as in the case of the Alfreds and Alcuins of those days left everything possible from that source at an immea surable distance. The revolution — inteUectual, moral, and spiritual — which was thus accomplished, was great, and pregnant with greater things to come. The Saxon king who deserts the. duties of his throne under the plea of becoming religious in a convent ; or who could leave his lands exposed to the ravaging of an enemy, that he might do pilgrimage to the shrines of the apostles, shows us how religion may degenerate into superstition, superseding our natural obligations in place of enforcing them. But in the case of a CeadwaUa or a Canute, we may see something beyond and better than superstition, even in these pilgrimages to Rome. It must have been an influence of no feeble sort which taught natures so sternly moulded to bow thus before a new authority, and to learn, as well as to unlearn, on so large a scale. Natural curiosity joined with religious feehng in prompting such men to such pilgrimages ; and we may be sure that the result would be, not only to deepen religious impressions, but to widen sympathy with all tbe objects of civUized life. Rome embraced something more than the Papal see, as did th£ journey thither and back again. CHAPTER VIII. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. THE heathen hfe of the Saxons and the Danes, ^ookii. described in the preceding chapter, has shown, in "" ' some measure, the nature of the government which f^1^^ obtained among them when they first, became known follower. to civilized Europe. We have seen what the Danes were in the ninth century. Such the Saxons had been in the seventh. In their own land the eldest son in herited the property of the famUy. The fortune. of the younger was dependent on the personal qualities which might enable him to attract foUowers as a pirate and freebooter. But even in such rude confederations there must be laws. The fundamental law binding the leader and his adherents was substantiaUy that known in later time as binding the chief and his vassal. As the rela tion between these parties in their piratical excursions was voluntary, it rested of course on mutual stipula tions. And when the Saxons ceased to be marauders, and settled in the countries they had devastated, this relationship was perpetuated. It continued to be necessary to the. common safety, and was stdl accounted sacred. It then came to be a relation having respect to the holding of land. The Anglo-Saxon vassal — for such he was in fact before so named — pledged himself to love aU whom his chief loved, to loathe all whom his chief loathed, and to be obedient in word and deed, pro vided that the chief on his part should fulfil the con ditions claimed by his vassal on entering into such bonds.* It was the fidelity of the Saxons and * These are the words : ' By the Lord, before whom this relic is holy, I will be to N. faithful and true, and love all that he loves, and shun Cyneheard. 240 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Northmen to these vows which made them so formid- Chaf' 8' able even while they were heathens. When they began to take their place among settled and civilized nations, this fidelity remained conspicuous in their history. story of Mention may be made in this place of an instruc tive instance on this point. It is from the history of Cynewulf, king of Wessex. Cynewulf had been called to the throne by the thanes of Wessex in the place of Sigebyrcht. The dethroned king, and a younger brother named Cyneheard, became exiles. Sigebyrcht fell by the hands of a man whose lord he was said to have injured. Some thirty years after the death of Sigebyrcht, Cyneheard returns to Wessex with eighty- four sworn adherents, resolved to watch the movements of Cynewulf, and to attempt to possess himself of the throne. Unsuspicious of danger, Cynewulf one even ing left Winchester, with a small number of followers, to visit a lady, an object of his affection, at Merton. Cyneheard and his friends stole from their hiding- places in the neighbouring woods, followed in the track of the royal party, and, as night came on, surrounded the house into which the king had entered. The king's attendants were dispersed in the neighbourhood. On hearing a noise outside, Cynewulf rose from his bed and hastened to the door. There his eye fell on Cyneheard, upon whom he instantly inflicted a wound. But the assailants were quick in protecting their leader, and the king soon lay in his- blood upon the floor. The noise of this strife, and the shrieks of the female, brought the servants of the king to the spot. But the deed was done. Cyneheard proffered the king's attendants safety and wealth if they would embrace his cause. His overtures were rejected with all that he shuns, according to God's law and according to the world's principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do aught of what is loathful to him — on condition that he keep me as I am willing to deserve, and shall fulfil what our agreement was, when I submitted to him and chose his> will.' — Ancient Laws of England, j6. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 241 indignation. Every man who had been in the train book ii. of Cynewulf perished, in the desperate effort to avenge !L^I—' the death of his lord. The only survivor was a Briton, who owed his hfe to a wound which disabled him, and which was supposed to have been mortal. News of what had happened soon fled to Winches ter. Wiverth a thane, and Osric an ealdorman, sum moned their retainers, and rode with all speed to the place. Cyneheard met them at the gate of the house, pleaded the wrongs of his family, reminded them that many of his foUowers under that roof were their own kinsmen, and promised them rich possessions if they would aid, him in his object. Their answer is said to have been : ' If there be kinsmen of ours among you, ' let them depart, but our murdered lord was dearer to ' us than they ; and it shall never be ours to submit ' to those who have shed his blood.' The kinsmen among the conspirators rephed : ' We made the offer ' to the king's attendants that you make to us, and ' they chose to die rather than accept it. You shall ' not find that we are less faithful or less generous ' than they.' Wiverth and Osric began the assault. The' resistance was obstinate — desperate. The fight ceased only as the last of the conspirators feU. Cyne heard was not dead, but was left to die of his wounds through the forbearance of Osric, who had been his sponsor in baptism.* Such was the spirit in which the Saxons and the Danes had been wedded to the fortunes of their chiefs. Where the leader has his prescribed or understood duties, in common with those whom he leads, what is done must be done by joint counsel, and in gather ings which wiU partake of the nature of deliberative assemblies. The following picture of the proceedings of such an assembly in ancient Germany, may be taken as giving us the mode, substantiaUy, in which matters * Chron. Sax. ad an. 755. Fl. Wigorn. ad an. 784. Westmin. ad an. 786. Hunt. 196, 197. Malms, de Beg. lib. i. c. 2. I R 242 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. were transacted by the Saxons in Holstein, and the HAP' 8' Northmen in Scandinavia. ' In cases where aU have ' a voice, the business is discussed and prepared by ' the chiefs. The general assembly, if no sudden alarm ' caUs the people together, has its fixed and stated ' periods, either at the new or full moon. This is ' thought to be the season most propitious to public ' affairs. Their, passion for hberty is attended with ' this ill consequence — when a public meeting is an- 1 nounced, they never assemble at the stated time. ' Regularity would look like obedience ; to mark their * independent spirit they do not convene at once, but ' two or three days are lost in delay. When they think ' themselves sufficiently numerous, the business begins. ' Each man takes his seat completely armed. SUence 1 is proclaimed by the priests, who stdl retain their ' coercive authority. The king, or chief of the com- ' munity, opens the debate ; the rest are heard in their ' turn, according to age, nobility of descent, renown in ' war, or fame for eloquence. No man dictates to the ' assembly ; he may persuade, but cannot command. ' When anything is advanced not agreeable to the ' people, they reject it with a general murmur. If the ' proposition pleases, they brandish their javelins. ' This is their highest and most honourable mark of ' applause : they assent in a military manner, and ' praise by the sound of their arms.'* We have now to see how the principles at the root of such usages were to come into action in the history of those branches of the German race which found their home in Britain. i.andhoid- Id plundering adventures abroad, Saxons or Danes balisof might agree to share in a common danger, on the Angio- condition of participating in a common gain. But at Saxon polity." home, some other basis of social connexion was neces- * Taoitus, Germania, xi. Lappenberg says it does not appear that there was any king among the Germanic races who settled in Britain (ii. 307). Bede seems to say the same thing. — Hist. v. 10. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 243 sary to social existence. This basis was found in the book it. possession of land. Every people has its country or .!!!!_ land, and its manner of disposing of that land in dif ferent holdings for its own advantage. Our earliest knowledge of the German tribes, presents them to us as settled upon arable land, surrounded with forest pas tures, and as claiming a kind of property in both, according to laws written or understood, and laws guarded by some of the severest sanctions of rehgion. In fact, the principles of government introduced by the Germanic race in Britain, as elsewhere, rested on two foundations — on the possession of lands, and on dis tinctions of rank, as depending more or less on such possession. To be a free man, was to be a free-holder, — that is, a holder of land. In so far, the legisla tion of the Teutons, and that of the ancient Spartans and Romans, was the same. The history of the poh tical institutions of the Anglo-Saxons, accordingly, is the history of the conditions on which lands were pos sessed ; of the privileges which went along with such possessions; and of the different laws intended to secure to the different classes, determined by their different relations to the land, the safety and rights pertaining to them. These classes consisted of the noble, the freeman, and the serf. The names of places in Anglo-Saxon Britain, names Local borne by the same places to this dav, can be shown to ?an'.f from - i j_ l j • families or. have been to a large extent patronymics — names of oonfedera- the family, clan, or tribe settling in them. What the se°tueit names of the CampbeUs and Macgregors have been in the comparatively recent history of Scotland, these local names were among the bands of men who, in the fifth and sixth centuries, fought for a settlement in Britain and found it.* The settlers in such localities, we may suppose, were not, in all cases of the same * Places, the names of which have so originated, are often marked as ending in ing or ling ; also by the terminations ham, hurst, tonystede, wic, geat, &c. — Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. 59. Lappen. ii. 310, 320. R 2 244 SAXONS AND DANES. BOOK II Chap. 8. Local go vernment, blood. In an emigration so protracted, and the result of so many influences, this was not to have been ex pected. But the dominant man, or the dominant section, among the new-comers, gave name to the lands which were to be possessed ; and that name, we have reason to believe, was generally a family or clan name. In the greater expeditions of the Saxons there would be contributions from many tribes. But these re mained as separate bands, fought as such, and settled as such, in the -new country. In Anglo-Saxon his tory they "-become, to some extent, what the Romans, the Liiceres, and the Sabines had been in Roman history. It is to.be remembered that these names were not in their first applications the names of cities. They were names given to the lands appropriated. The hfe of the Teutonic races had not been a city life. They were a pastoral and agricultural people. It was the work of time in our history to give existence to towns and cities, which should seem to monopolize the names that had first been given to the lands wholly irrespective of them.* Every district so formed was a little state. It enacted its own laws, regulated its own affairs, and armed for its own defence. It possessed full local means for dealing with its local questions. This came in part from the necessities of the case, and is known as a matter of history. But union on a larger scale was necessary. From the union of these districts * But it must be borne in mind that all men were not holders of land. Hence side by side with these relations to land grew up relations between persons. Every man, whether free or not free, was bound to have his supe rior — his lord. Strangers whose lords were not known were men for whose good behaviour no man was known to be responsible, and for whose wel fare no man was bound to care. The ' lordless' man, accordingly, in Anglo-Saxon law, was little better than an outlaw, and, in fact, was dealt with as an outlaw. Even men who travelled from place to place as ' chap men,' were viewed for this reason with suspicion, and were made subject to special restraints by special laws. — Ancient Laws and Institutions of England, ii, 12, 14, 19, 37, $0, 51, 55, 70, 85, 90, 94. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, bk. i. c. a. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 245 came the shires, or the counties, and from the union book ii. of counties came the kingdom. But while every dis- -!!!!_' trict consisted of a body of persons possessing land, the shire, as such, had no land. The organization of the shire was simply political, not territorial. It existed for the better protection of territorial interests as belonging to the districts, and the districts might assign to it compensation for such services ; but the shire authority was simply that vested in certain greater landholders by the less for their common benefit. General action could only be taken by means of such central authority. But the province of the central power left a large field to local independence.* The men inhabiting the districts mentioned con- The free sisted mainly of two classes — the free and the not free. *"t free. The distinction of the freeman was, that he possessed land within the hmits of the community. By that fact he was entitled to privileges, and bound to special duties. It gave him the right to bear arms ; and, if so disposed, to redress his own wrongs. But pass ing by the local court, and taking the law in his own hands, he was left to his private means in meeting such private hostilities as might be thus provoked. Next to the pride of bearing arms was that of wearing long flowing hair, which was restricted to the free of both sexes. The freeman could join the guilds or associa tions formed by his fellows for religious or political purposes ; could change his place of abode at plea sure ; and was entitled to take part in the passing, or in the abrogation of laws, and in the appointment of officers to places of civil or military trust. His pre sence was expected at the public council, and it be longed to him to take part in judging of cases between man and man. But with these privUeges came the obligation to bear such burdens as the voice * The man refusing to attend the gemote when summoned was liable to heavy costs, and even to death, should he be obstinate. — A-ncient Laws, 89. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, bk, i. c. 2. • 248 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. of the community should impose, and to be prepared — _' to engage in war, whether offensive or defensive, as required by that authority.* The not The not free, who dwelt among the free, had come into that condition from various causes. Some by birth, some by crime, and some by marriage. Some by losing their possessions, and being seized in per son by their creditors. But conquest had reduced the greatest number to this level. It did not, indeed, fol low that a vanquished people should always be an enslaved people. In some cases that result ensued — ensued rigorously ; but in general a less severe course was taken. Circumstances, and the temper or policy ofthe victor, sufficed to break the force of the calamity. The not free whose condition was in the least measure degrading, consisted of men who ceased to possess land, to bear arms, or to take any part in public affairs, but who were protected by some chief or lord, as the cultivators of certain lands, on condition of their rendering certain services, or paying a certain tribute. Tacitus describes this as the condition of the large mass of dependents who bore the name of serfs or slaves among the ancient Germans. f The distance was great between such a condition and that of the serf who became the mere chattel of a master, to be mutdated, sold, or put to death by him at pleasure. * It should be stated that the name ceorl, denoting the freeman in Anglo-Saxon law, comprehended persons, a majority of whom stood in the most varied relations to the persons under whom they had placed themselves as their lords. — Lapp. ii. 319. Two-fifths ofthe population at the Conquest are supposed to be of this class. t Germania, xxv. The majority of those denominated freemen were under the protection of some lord, civil or ecclesiastical. The classes known by the names * bordarii,' ' geburs,' ' cotsetlas,' and others, were chiefly employed on the land, and rendered various contributions and services as a rental. Many of the Britons were freemen, and their wergild was according to status and property. From the time of the Danish rule, the distinction between the Saxon and Welsh in England gradually disappears. It is found latest along the borders of the free Welsh pro vinces, REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 247 The condition of the Anglo-Saxon serf of the lowest book ii. grade was truly grievous. He could neither represent J — _' himself nor others. His interests were aU in the The 6erf- keeping of another hand. He had no standing in any public court. His oath was of no value. His lord claimed possession of him, and of all that could belong to him, as he would have claimed possession of a horse, or of any other quadruped properly his own. As the serf had no property, he could pay no fine ; and, should he prove a delinquent, the mulct must be exacted in torture upon his skin and his flesh. Gene raUy, the serfs passed from hand to hand with the ground to which they were attached. Their children of course inherited their degradation.* But while it is not to be doubted that the sufferings of persons of this class were often great, it is main tained by humane and well-informed authorities on this subject, that the homesteads, the clothing, and the food of the Anglo-Saxon serf would admit of comparison with the same means of comfort in the lot of our own peasantry.! It is clear also, that the differences of capacity and desert, even among those * The number of slaves registered in the Domesday Book at the Con quest is 25,000. One ofthe laws of Ina forbids the master to sell his slave to be carried beyond sea, even though he should have committed a crime. (Laws, xi.) The wergild of the slave went half to the master, and half to the kindred of the slave. Slaves in the above record are found to be most numerous in Gloucestershire, where they are as one in four to every freeman ; and in Cornwall, Devon, and Stafford, where they are as one in five. The numbers diminish as we remove from the Welsh border, until we come to counties, as Lincoln, Huntingdon, Rutland, and York, in which not a slave is registered. But in these counties the lower class of the not free, who at the same time were not slaves, increases. The condition of this class often bore too near a resemblance to that of the slave class elsewhere. The word loet, which occurs in a law of Ethelbert, is supposed to refer to a class of unfree Saxons whom the in vaders brought with them. — Leg. xxvi. It was one of Alfred's laws that, if any man bought a Christian slave, the slave should be free after six years' service ; and the punishment for stealing a freeman to sell him into slavery was death. — Ancient Laws and Institutions of England, 21, 22. t Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. c. 8. 248 S AXONS AND DANES. BOOK II, Chap. 8. The noble \>y birth. who were ahke serfs, led to a great difference of treat ment. Above aU, manumission was possible. . The generous might set the bondsman free, or might pur chase his freedom. Such instances were not wholly unknown even among the pagan Germans.* They happily became very frequent among the Christian Saxons of Britain. Many edifying examples of this nature were supplied by the Anglo-Saxon clergy; and where they could not prevad to extinguish servi tude, they did much to improve the laws, and to soften the customs, in relation to it.f As the not free gave place in aU things to the free, so the ordinary freeman gave place to the noble. The noble was a freeman, claimed his privilege, and acknowledged his obligations as such. But his estate was larger, and free from various burdens to which the ¦ lands of others were subject. He not only took his place in the placitum of his district or county, and of the Witanagemote, but he was of the class to whom it pertained to prepare and regulate the public business, and to give execution to the public wiU. The people might elect, but to the higher offices — the judge, the military chief, the king — the noble only could be elected. On the life ofthe noble a much higher price was set than on the life of the mere freeman. In him, the community with which he was more nearly connected found its natural centre and sovereignty, and through * Tacitus, Germania, xxv. t Ancient Laws and Institutions, 40, 41/48, 129, 162. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. o. vii. The Christian clergy came into the place and power of the old pagan priesthood, very few of whom, as observed else where, would seem to have followed their countrymen in their migration to this country. The wergild of an archbishop was that fixed on the life of a king's son. The bishop stood on the level of the ealdorman, the next in rank to royalty. He took part with the ealdorman also as an equal in the jurisdiction ofthe county court. The ealdorman had his gemote for the slave, as the king had his gemote for the nation, and by the ealdorman and the bishop the secular and ecclesiastical questions which came up in their respective jurisdictions were considered and decided. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 249 him it could speak and act in regard to other commu- book ii. . , . * r ° Chap. 8. nities. But, besides the men who were noble from birth J11*™^ and possessions, and who stood in this political rela tion to their respective communities and neighbour hoods, there was a nobility which grew up by degrees •of a different description — a nobihty by service. This class consisted of the military retainers about the person of the king. The junior sons of noble or wealthy famUies were often pleased with the courtier and military hfe they were thus permitted to lead. The law of primogeniture assigned the paternal domain to the eldest son. Professional or commercial hfe was unknown. Military service was the only em ployment to which such men could look, and the only field in which such service was open to them was in being near the king. But in ceasing to be a land holder, the young noble ceased to be a freeman — that is, ceased to have any place in the communities of freemen in his own right. Only through his fealty to the king did he retain any political relation to the kingdom. But this relation to the king as coming thus into the place of every other, became on that account the stronger. These nobles by service had their home about the king's hearth; their place at the king's board. In aU his perUs they were at his side. In all his successes they were in their measure sharers in the spoil. Nothing could exceed the chi valrous devotion of such men to the cause of their lord. No dishonour could be greater than that of having faded him in his hour of need. Poetry de- * The name * ealdorman' expressed our idea of nobility. This was a dignity, it seems, which the king could not confer without the consent of his Witan. But the dignity, even so late as the time of Alfred, was not always hereditary, nor always even for life. It came to be a pretty general rale afterwards that the rank of the father should pass to the son. — Palgrave's Commonwealth, ii. 291. Ellis, Introduction, i. 168. Hey- wood's Dissertation on Banks. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ii. c. 4. Lapp. ii. 312-314. 250 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. scribes them as prepared to face, not only the natural, chapj. but the supernatural — the fiendish Grendal, and the deadly Firedrake — in defence of the leader to whom they were sworn.* When an assassin raised his arm against Edwin of Northumbria, the thane LUla threw himself between the weapon and the king ; and such was the stroke, that the point reached the body of the- monarch through that of his self-sacrificed noble. f We have seen, also, the feeling evinced in this respect by the retainers of Cynewulf and Cyneheard in the fray at Merton. In fact, this sense of honour came too much into the place of a passion for freedom. Nobles of this class learnt to content themselves with being excluded from the rod in the communities of freemen, so they could realize honour and wealth by placing themselves in this special relation to the king. It is obvious, that to the king such a force was always the nucleus of an army. Times might come in which the danger from this force to general hberty would be seen or suspected. But in such a state of society the feeling of safety imparted by this means would more than outweigh such fear in the mind of the peaceful. It is beyond doubt, however, that the rising power of this class of nobles tended more and more to. lower the influence of the nobility who derived their authority from birth and territory, and to lessen the indepen dence of the communities of freemen. The central became in many things too strong for the local. The civil was often made to give place to the military. So that even protection seemed to be purchased at too high a price. Of course the territorial nobles were at liberty to keep up a comitatus, or ' following,' as it was caUed, according to then means, after the manner of the king ; and among the more wealthy such was more or less the custom. Thus lands were let on * Beowulf, 1582 et seq. 5262 et seq. t Bede, Eccles. Hist. ii. 9. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 251 military tenure ; and even ecclesiastics had their mili- book ii. tary retainers, as we see in the case of archbishop AP'8' Odo.* In the Roman civilization, the feehng proper to The fa™»y famUy relationships, had been from the first almost saxoniegis- superseded by maxims of state. Hence when the state lation" became utterly corrupt, nothing remained but that society should fall to pieces. But with the Germanic race, the bonds of family and kindred were sacred, and were the basis of aU other relations. The reverence for woman, the sanctity of the marriage vow, the rigour with which men ofthe same blood were bound to guard the interests of each other, and were made in their measure responsible for each other, were aU parts of a system in which the family was regarded as the first form of society, and in which everything beyond was viewed as an expansion of what had been found there. The earlier Anglo-Saxon laws determine many things concerning the manner in which kindred should act as the protectors of kindred, and in which the one should be accounted responsible for the other. Subse quent laws, designed to limit such responsibility, and to remove cases from settlement by private violence * From these comitas — military retainers: — came the class of men known in Anglo-Saxon history, first as ' gesiths,' afterwards as thanes. When the retainer became a thane, it was required that he should be possessed of land. The wergild of the thane was equal to that of six mere freemen, and his privileges in other respects were in the same proportion. The ealdorman must possess forty hides of land, the thane five. In time, the simple possession of that amount of land made any man a thane. In Wessex, a Welshman so far opulent, acquired that status; and. a merchant who made three voyages beyond sea in his own vessel might claim the same rank. — Heywood's Dissert, on Banks. Ellis, Introd. i. 145—153. Cod. Diplomat, i. 249. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. c. 7. The thane was under military service, and bound to appear on horseback. It is certain, also, that his rank entitled him to be present, if so disposed, at the Witanagemote. The term ' radchenistres' occurs in districts bordering on Wales, as the title of an inferior class of thanes who were probably Welsh. The term 'drenghs' also, is mentioned by Lappenberg as of Danish origin and as descriptive of a similar class in the north of England. — Eng. ii. 318. 252 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. to the local courts, show clearly what the earlier- c^!_8' usage had been.* The Titwng The Saxon institutions familiar to us under the dredHun" name of Tithings and Hundreds were the natural result of this great feature in the complexion of Teutonic hfe. For the tithings and hundreds were not at first apportionments of territory — had that been the case they would have been equal. A tithing was the asso ciation often famUies, a hundred, was the association of a hundred families.t The principle of the tithing was, that it bound each man of the ten to be in his measure responsible for the good conduct of the re maining nine. In this view the . tithing became another form of the family. The rights and duties of its members were in common. Should one of their number become an offender, it devolved on the nine ' to hold him to right.' Should he flee, at least thirty days were allowed the tithing to find him. If he could not be found, then the head-man of the tithing must * Edw. Conf. xx. et seq. Thorpe. t In the later times of the Saxon dynasty, the hundred appears to have consisted of a hundred hides of land, but this was a change which re sulted naturally from the increase of population. The smaller counties have, many of them, the greatest number of hundreds. But these smaller counties were the earliest and the most thickly peopled by the conquerors. In Kent, the new comers were many. In Lancashire, where the hundreds are the fewest, being six only in number, the natives still upon the land were numerous, and the strangers comparatively few. — Ellis, Introd. i. 184 et seq. Care must be taken not to confound the tithings with the ' guilds,' The tithings were political associations, originating in the laws, and sus tained by the sanctions of the state. But the guilds were rather voluntary associations, the objects of which were various. They go back in German history to the time when they were the sacrificial guilds of heathenism. Market days and court days were seasons of religious festival; and the guilds which met at such times and places were partly religious, partly convivial, and partly of the nature of benefit or insurance clubs. Pro vision was thus made against losses of property, expenses of funerals, and Buch' matters. Such associations were the origin of important municipal institutions, especially along the coasts of the Low Countries. In England, the guilds were not known in their pagan associations. — Turner, bk. vii. c. 10. Lapp. ii. 349-351. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 253 call in the head-men, and ' some of the best,' from the book it, adjoining tithings, to the number of eleven, before HAP' whom, as jurors, the question to be decided would be, whether the tithing had done its best to bring the culprit to justice, and whether it had been itself in any way implicated in the offence. Should the tithing -be acquitted, the head-man was required to produce the mulct, or fine proper to the offence, out of the property of the wrong-doer, or of his family, ' so 1 long as that shaU last ;' and should that not be suffi cient, the head-man and his tithing must furnish the remainder. In aU cases the tithing is to see that re compence is made, or» to make it.* So that the tithings of the kingdom were, in fact, its pohce ; and, from the motives naturally supplied to vigilance, they furnished a pohce the most effective possible in such a state of society. Many differences requiring adjustment were settled in the tithing. Such as were of a nature not to be so disposed of, passed to the court of the hundred, which met usuaUy once a month. If not settled there, it went to the shire-court, which met three times a year.f Of course the men reckoned, both in the tithings and in the hundreds, were restricted to free men. Men of various degrees not so reckoned, were connected in different ways with the court of some lord, who was at once their protector, and responsible for their conduct, f * Laws of Ethelred, i. i. Laws of Edgar, ii. 6. Canute, § xx. Edw. Conf. xv. xx. Jud. Civit. Lond. viii. J. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. c. g. 'The freeman's original position in the state was that of one of a family whose members were bound to mutual aid against violence.' — Lapp. ii. 336. But the Anglo-Saxon tithing extended their principle beyond cases of unlawful violence, to any matter which ' compromised the public weal, or trenched upon the rights or well-being of others.' — Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i 251. f In the court of the hundred the ealdorman was expected to preside, assisted by the bishop, and the principal thanes of the neighbourhood. — Laws of Edgar, ii. 5. Canute, xviii. X Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, i. c. 9. §54 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. Both the tithings and the hundred had something chapjs. ^ fo ^y.-^ j^Q collecting and disbursement of rates, on many local matters, beside affairs of police ; and their meetings which took place for these various pur poses, were not always aUowed to pass as meetings of mere business. One ancient document instructs the eleven men representing the tithings of a hundred in London to hold meetings as nearly as might be once a month, and directs that they should at such times ' have their refection together, and feed themselves ' ' as they think 'fit, and deal the remains of the meat ' for the love of God.'* Such seasons of good fel lowship did much no doubt ta sweeten the labours of trusty burghers in those days. • We have spoken of the right which Teutonic law and usage supposed to belong to the persons of a family which has suffered wrong, to exact a recom pence from the persons of the family from which the wrong has proceeded. Tacitus says of the Germans : ' They are bound to take up both the enmities and * the friendships of a father or relative.' He adds : ' Their enmities, however, are not implacable ; for ' even homicide is atoned for by a settled number of ' flocks or herds. A portion of the fine goes to the ' king or state, a part to him whose damages are to be ' assessed, or to his relatives.' f The wer- In Anglo-Saxon law the fine so imposed bears the gild' name of ' wergyld.' The wergild was graduated according to the wrong done, and according to the rank of the person against whom it had been per petrated. It applied to wrongs of all kinds, and it determined the value attached to every man's oath, according to his condition, in a court of justice. The settlement of the wergild by law was a material step towards putting an end to private feuds, and to the * Judicia Civitatis Lond. Athelstan, v. 8, § i. Kemble's Anglo- Saxons, i. 242. t Germania, xii. xxii. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 255 mischiefs inseparable from them. One of Alfred's book it. laws denounces a heavy penalty against the man who CtIAP' 8' should presume to seek redress by his own hands, in place of seeking it through the authorities bound to secure it for him. But in Anglo-Saxon history, cus tom hi this respect was often found to be stronger than the law.* In the tithing we have seen the first step in poli- The witim- tical organization among the Saxons in England. agemot' Next came the organization ofthe hundreds. Next that of the shires. But beyond the meeting of the shire, was the meeting supposed to represent all the shires, and convened specially by the king. This assembly bore the name of the Witanagemote. It was the great council, or parhament, of the state. Two questions arise concerning it : How was it constituted ? What was its business ? It is clear that the constitution of the Witanagemote its consti- was not upon principles of representation defined and tutlon' determined in the manner with which we are ourselves familiar. The tithings, the hundreds, the shires, might all elect their own officers to preside over their own local affairs ; but we have no trace of evidence to show that it was the work of the Saxon freemen, or of any part of them, to choose the members of the Witanagemote. Athelstan, on the contrary, describes the assembhes of that nature convened at four different, places, as consisting of persons ' whom the king him- ' self had named.' f This was no doubt the case as regarded all the principal persons convened, and such we have reason to suppose was the usage. Parties not so invited were probably allowed, in some in stances, to be present, to furnish information on par ticular questions, and even to take part in the pro ceedings; and, generaUy, there would seem to have been gatherings of freemen who were the witnesses of * Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, bk. i. c. io. f Codex Di/pl. i. 240. 256 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. the proceedings, and who, if pleased with them, were chapj. expecte(j to testify their approval. Stdl, the men constituting the Witanagemote were to some extent from aU parts of the kingdom ; and in so far, the kingdom may be said to have been repre sented by them. The meeting, moreover, included men of aU ranks — the noble of every grade, and men who cannot be supposed to have risen above the rank of ordinary freemen.* On the whole, the Witanage mote would seem to have been as good an assembly for its purpose as could well have been brought together in such circumstances. In those days, the commoners were few who would have coveted a summons to traverse the half of England to be present at such a consultation. The rivers he would have to cross, the forests he would need to thread, the marshes to be compassed; the miserable roads, the worse accommoda tion — all would combine to render it necessary that the good man should see such advantages attendant on his presence in the great council as no such man ever did. see, if his patriotism was to prove sufficiently elastic to carry him to the end of his journey. If historians and speculators would only imagine them- * Here is the preamble to the laws enacted under Wihtroed, king of Kent, in 696. ' Wihtroed assembled a deliberative convention of the great men : there was Birtwald, archbishop of Britain, and the forenamed king, also tbe bishop of Rochester, the same was called Gybmund, was present; and every degree of the church of that province spoke in unison with the obedient people. Then the great men decreed, with the suffrages of all, these dooms, and added them to the lawful customs of the Kentish men, as it hereafter saith and declareth.' — Ancient Laws and Institutions of England, 16, 17. The following passage precedes the laws of Ina : ' Ina, by God's grace, king of the West Saxons, with the counsel and with the teaching of Cenred, my father, and of Hedde, my bishop, and of Eorcenwold my bishop, with all my ' ealdormen,' and the most distinguished ' Witan of my people, and also with a large as sembly of God's servants, have been considering of the health of our souls, and ofthe stability of our realm, so that just law and just kingly doom might be settled and established throughout our folk ; so that none of the ealdormen, nor of our subjects, should hereafter pervert these our dooms.' — Ibid. 45. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 257 selves out of the present and in the past a little more book ir. frequently and vividly, it would suffice to save them Chap' 8' from much error. Mainly from the cause adverted to — the great difficulty of locomotion — the maximum of the leading men present in the Witanagemote was rarely more than a hundred, including bishops, with other ecclesiastical dignitaries, the different classes of nobles, and persons holding subordinate civil or mdi- tary offices.* Concerning the business of this assembly, it is clear its business. that its voice was to be taken in regard to aU acts that should be authorized by. the king; that it possessed the power to determine who should succeed to the throne on the demise of a king ; that it could depose a sovereign whose rule was not for the benefit of his subjects ; that it took part with the king in negotiations with an enemy, and in setthng terms of peace ; that conjointly with the crown it had power to appoint prelates to vacant sees, to change the tenure of lands, to levy taxes for the public service, and to raise forces by sea or land ; that it acted as a supreme court of justice, in cases civU and criminal; and that it could adjudge the lands of offenders and intestates as forfeited to the king.f It is material to observe, that it appears to have been Relation of a usage, that the results of the meeting of the Witan agemote " should be taken by the officers of the crown present *^ and into the different shires, and that the pledge of the the Pe°Ple- shire court, including its nobles and its ordinary free- * The names of the Witan attached to documents are not often more than thirty ; the highest known number is one hundred and six. Dr. Lingard says (Hist. i. 186), 'they never amounted to sixty;' but this is a mistake. — See Kemble, bk. ii. c. 6. It does not follow, however, because the names in these instances were so few that no more persons were present. Such signatures are rarely given until the meeting itself has been dissolved, and then such as remain sign on the part of the whole. Among the names which appear we sometimes find those of the queen and of abbesses.t The evidence on these points lies over a wide surface — the substance of it may be seen in Mr. Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, ii. 204-232, 241-261. 1 S 258 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. men, should be obtained in support of what had been °"AP- *' done. In one parliament under Athelstan, sheriffs from aU the counties of England are said to have been present, and in the usage mentioned we probably have the reason of their so being.* This was one method by which the difficulty was met of bringing members together from great distances for civil purposes in those times. ' The whole principle of Teutonic legis- ' lation,' says Mr. Kemble, ' is, and always was, that ' the law is made by the constitution of the king, and ' with the consent of the people.'f And in the custom of obtaining a pledge from the freemen of the pro vinces in support of what the king and his great council had done, this principle was recognised in the manner found to be most avadable. Of course, what the Witanagemote had done was done. The shiremote had no power to annul or amend. But it had its occa sions for conference, and for the expression of opinion ; and the fact that the conclusions of the Witanagemote would be thus submitted to the shires in their re spective courts, would not be without its effect on the proceedings of that body. X Different When the Saxons possessed themselves of this land. ' country, they seized its territory as their own. The largest share fell to the king. The remainder was distributed among the chiefs who had followed his standard. These chiefs made further- distributions into the hands of two classes of freemen — those who occupied the land as bocland, or bookland, which made it a kind of chartered freehold ; and those who occu pied it as folcland (the people's land), which was much the same with a lease and renthold. Those who occupied folcland, as being tenants rather than owners, were subject to a variety of burdens from which the occupiers of bocland were exempt. But the ' people's 'land' was not always in the hands of a humble * Leg. Athels. v. 10. t Anglo-Saxons, ii. 236. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 259 tenantry. Thanes and nobles were often its holders, book ii. on the prescribed conditions. Domesday Booh shows °HAP' 8' that at the Conquest nearly half the kingdom of Kent was crown land, and that the remainder was in the hands of eleven persons, by whom, as tenants in chief, it passed, on various conditions, to the hands of a numerous secondary tenantry.* In the midst of these holders and cultivators of the Eise of land, towns gradually made their appearance ; and the town9, artisan population of the towns has now to be dealt with, in the way of legislation and government, along with the agricultural population of the province. And it would be agreeable to know much more than we can now know in relation both to the origin and constitution of towns among the Anglo-Saxons: We have seen in what condition the Britons were left by the Romans. The natives were incapable of making a wise use of the Boman cities. The Picts and Scots, and the Saxons after them, were not dis posed to seek their homes in such places. The Scots were soon driven back to their fastnesses. The Saxons looked to the land and to their swords. In the mean- whde, neglect and the elements sufficed to reduce not a few of the most costly works of the Bomans to ruins. In this chmate, the falling rains of winter, and the progress of vegetation in summer, if left to them selves, soon do the work of the destroyer. Exposure to such influences for even less than a century, would suffice to reduce the ordinary buddings to heaps, and the strongest to roofless fragments. So that by the time the Saxons became settled and industrious enough to think of constructing walled cities, those which had - once existed were so far gone to decay as to be of smaU service. In many instances the new town rose on the old site. Local advantages would often be to the new settler what they had been to the old. But in all the notices we have of early Anglo-Saxon buddings * Lapp. ii. 323—326. Lingard, i. 461, 462. s 2 260 SAXONS AND DANES. the workmen seem not so much to be availing them selves of old edifices as raising new, and to be con structing them even of new material. Subsequently, no doubt, the Boman remains contributed to the edu cation of the native workman. The Anglo-Saxon architecture in stone is everywhere a rude imitation of the Boman; but the earliest specimens in that architecture, as aheady mentioned, were of wood, with a covering of reeds. Hence the hfe led by king and bishop appears to have long been, for the most part, an ambulatory life. Places of sufficient import ance to fix the residence of the one or the other can scarcely be said to have been in existence. TheSaxon The burgh, or fortress, raised by the Saxon noble, burgh. jj0re sman resemblance to the Norman castle, or the strong city of a later age. An elevated ground, de fended by a dyke and a framework of wood, which as a piece of fortification was httle in advance of an Indian stockade, sufficed for a whde to constitute a place of safety. But within that enclosure there were stout hearts, and the strong arm. Around that fenced dwelling-place, the cultivators of the soil, and the few men who worked at handicraft, found lodgment. These were always ready to supply the wants of the fighting men often resorting thither, and to extend their infant traffic to the adjacent country. So beneath the home of the lord rose a village, and by degrees the village became a town. What the residence of a noble was in this respect at one point, the residence of a bishop, or of some abbot and. his monks, would be at another — a nucleus to organizations destined to affect remote generations. The workers on the soil, or at the loom, clustered about the centre from which they might hope for protection ; and it was the interest of the strong to protect the weak, for other reasons than that the weak were wdling to pay them tribute for such service. History shows that in this manner many an Anglo-Saxon town had its beginnings. The 'burgh,' 'bury,' and 'borough,' found as terminations REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 261 in the names of so many of our towns, point to this book ii. phase of our early history. In such places the strong HAP' man once had his dweUing, and there the weak sought shelter and safety, and in process of time found some thing more. As a supply of the useful became more abundant, it created a taste for the luxurious ; and in the history of the luxurious, the possession of the better never fads to excite a desire for the better stiU. Our great cities are aU the creations, not of court pageants, so much as of a prosperous trade. As these natural gatherings became towns, enclosed Govern- do msnt in within waUs and gates, it may be said of them that towns. they aU became more or less self-governed communi ties. The degree in which they possessed this power would be determined by the power or policy of the lord, the bishop, or the abbot to whom they were sub ject. In general, they levied their own rates, had their own common purse, and chose, in whole or in part, their own officers. In aU cases, the burghers were bound to each other by ' oath and pledge ;' and formed confederations which, as we enter further into the Middle Age, become a power strong enough to check both nobles and kings in their march of oppression. In some instances a city became so free as to be inde pendent of any local authority beyond itself — being, ac cording to our language, a county in itself. The rights of such a corporation were, in fact, kingly rights. ' Such ' a free organization was capable of placing a city upon ' terms of equality with other constituted powers ; and ' hence we can easdy understand the position so fre- ' quently assumed by the inhabitants of London. As ' late as the tenth century, and under Athelstan, a * prince who had carried the influence of the crown to "' an extent unexampled in any of his predecessors, we ' find the burghers treated as power to power with the ' king, under their port-reeves and bishops ; engaging, ' indeed, to follow his advice, if he have any to give ' which shall be to their advantage ; but, nevertheless, ' constituting their own guildships or commune, by 262 SAXONS AND DANES.1 book ii. ' their own authority, and a basis of mutual" alliance HAP" 8" ' and guarantee, as to themselves seemed good.'* If London could take such ground, and if in dealing with weaker princes it could proceed even further, the lesser cities would not be wholly unmindful of her example. But we read of no such strifes between the burghers and their lords in Anglo-Saxon Britain as are found in the history of the Continental cities, and in our own after the Conquest. The presumption is, that though many lords were no doubt prone enough to play the tyrant, on the whole, the liberty ceded to the Anglo- Saxon burghers was considerable. Suffering in the towns, we have reason to think, resulted mainly from the great numbers of the not free and not protected who crowded into them.f position of Such, in general, became the condition of the sub- thekmg. j.ec^s 0£ ^g crown in Anglo-Saxon Britain. The royalties, or personal rights of the sovereign, were various. His life and person were protected by the heaviest penalties known to the law. He had the use of large territories, corresponding to our Woods and Forests, which passed with the crown to his successor. The holder of this property was the king ; its guardianship was with the Witanagemote. Besides his revenue from this source, the monarch received, after the German custom, voluntary contributions, in kind or otherwise, from the freemen ; contributions which, from being voluntary, became a custom, and becoming a custom, were too often interpreted as taking with them the force of law, and as implying the right of exaction. Of the fines and confiscations for offences a part went to the king. It belonged to * Kemble, Anglo-Saxons, i. 310, 311. t The Domesday Book makes frequent mention of what had been the old usage of the Anglo-Saxon towns and cities, and leaves those customs undisturbed. — Introduction, by Sir Henry Ellis, bd.-lxvii. All the boroughs had to make their contributions to the king in men, horses, arms, and money payments. But the nature of the contributions varied somewhat with locality. . ' REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 263 him to maintain a military force, which, though neces- book ti. sarily limited by his means, partook ofthe nature ofa 11—' standing army. It was with the king to convene the Witanagemote. But he had not the power to dispense with its meetings, nor was it to be dissolved at his pleasure. In this fact we trace the presence of a great principle of liberty, favourable alike to the freedom of the subject and to the safety of the throne. The king, as the conservator of the public peace, could summon the militia to suppress disorder, or to meet an invader. The coinage was in his charge. He was, moreover, the fountain of justice, inasmuch as to his court appeals might be made from all other courts ; and the foun tain of honour also, inasmuch as he could raise his servants, civil or mihtary, to new positions of rank and title.* These prerogatives, and some others, formed a large ti>o king's field for the exercise of the kingly power. The exact limits within which such royalties would be kept, de pended much on the character and circumstances of the sovereign. Nor did the royal influence terminate in such privUeges. As the monarchy became conso lidated, the court and the household were constituted of men who, whde themselves often of high rank, had learned to value such relations to the king as opening to them new sources of wealth and power. The cham berlain, who had the care of the household; the marshal, who possessed the command of the cavalry ; the steward, who took charge of the royal table ; the butler, who acted as the king's cupbearer ; the clergy, who were there to discharge their spiritual functions — * Kemble, ii. c. 2. The German estimate of the female character is evinced in the place assigned to the Anglo-Saxon queen. She was con secrated and crowned with her husband, or separately if the king married after he had become king. Other provisions of Saxon law in relation to the queen were in accordance with this usage. The exception to this custom in Wessex, in consequence of the crimes of Eadburga, was merely exceptional, and after a time, even there, the ancient usage was restored. — Lapp. ii. 310. Ellis, Introd. i. 171. • Heywood on Banks. 264 SAXONS AND DANES. Adminis tration of justice — trial by jurors and compurgators. book ii. all these, while deriving much from their connexion chapjs. ^^ ^e ^n^ ^ tkeir turn, reflected lustre on his court, and added weight to his influence and authority.* In the administration of justice among the Anglo- Saxons we find principles which may be traced in our later usages, and others which have been superseded by our more advanced civilization. The finding of a verdict in the Hundred Court, and in all other Courts, was the province of twelve thanes or free-tenants, or it might be that the judgment would be with twice or thrice that number, according to the nature of the case. The voice of twro-thirds gave a sufficient verdict. When the evidence was not such as to warrant a judg ment, the decision taken was on the ground of com purgation — that is, according to the oaths of persons expressing their belief in the veracity of the declara tions made by the accuser or the accused. In this decision by oath, every compurgator's oath was of weight according to his social position as determined by his wergdd. In some cases the number of com purgators required to ensure an acquittal was fixed by law, often the numbers proffering their attestations greatly exceeding that limit. It sometimes happened that, after both investigation and compurgation, the court would be perplexed. In such instances it was not unusual, in civil cases, for twelve or more thanes, chosen equally by the litigants, to retire from the court that they might deliberate upon their verdict. In criminal cases, the course of proceeding was in nearly all respects the same, except that trial hj ordeal was then open to the accused, in place of trial by com purgation, should he be disposed to take that alterna tive. Our trial by jury grew out of such usages, but in several respects it is something different and better, f * Palgrave's English Commonwealth, ii. 345. Philipps, Angelsachs, § 23. Lapp. ii. 311, 312.. t Hist. Bam. 415, .416. Begist. Boff. 32. Hist. Eliens. 479. Laws of Ethelred, iii. 3. Leg. Sax. 262. Palgrave's Commonwealth, i. 100, 216. Lappenberg, ii. 344—346. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 265 In trial by ordeal the culprit was enjoined to give book ti. himself to fasting and prayer for three days. On the ^_- last day he received the sacrament, and was admonished ™£j£y not to proceed unless conscious of his innocence. The place of trial was a church. The only persons present were the accuser, the accused, and twelve friends on either side as witnesses of the proceed ing. The parties stood in lines opposite each other, as the litany was read. If the trial was by water, a vessel was placed on a fire in the midst, and it was seen that the water boiled. The accused then thrust his hand into the vessel ; the priest immediately wound a cloth over the scald, and placed a seal upon it, which was to remain unbroken for three days. If the trial was by fire, the aUeged culprit seized a bar of hot iron, and bore it to the distance of three steps. The cloth was then placed about the hand in the same manner. At the expiration of three days the seal was broken, and if the hand was found to be healed, the party was acquitted ; if not, he was condemned. As there were many cases in which the heahng was declared to have taken place, it is difficult to suppose that the clergy were whoUy guiltless in the part they took in these proceedings. The probability is, that the guilty who committed themselves to such an experiment, did so from some collusion with the priest; and that the innocent were influenced by an excessive credulity as to the power of the priesthood. The experiment, however, was very rarely attempted ; and its design, whether in its pagan or in its Christian connexion, was to bring the guUty to confession by means adapted to affect the imagination and the conscience.* * Leg. Sax. 26, 27, et seq. Trial by single combat was not unknown among the ancient Germans. Grimm (D. B. A. 927 et seq.) is cited by Lappenberg (ii. 347) as giving examples. Edmund Ironside's chal lenge to Canute is a fact which seems to recognise such a custom in our history. Our trial by jury is, as commonly supposed, of Anglo-Saxon origin. But the number twelve was often fixed on by our ancestors in their judicial process. The function of jurors, moreover, in those days, 266 SAXONS AND DANES. book 11/ Such was the change in respect to government chapjj. ^^ resuited from the conquests of the Saxons and o" th™Eevo- Danes in Britain. The rover finds a settled dwelling-. lutionin place. The man who had lived by plunder puts his ment™" hand to honest industry. The culture of the soU is followed by the construction of the village and the town. The men who find their home in the new country, become concerned for the safety of their newly acquired substance, and- of their persons. The differed materially from that now assigned to them. ' Trial by jury, ac cording to the old English law, was a proceeding essentially different from the modern tribunal still bearing the ancient name, by which it has been replaced ; and whatever merits belong to the original mode of judicial inves tigation—and they were great and unquestionable, though accompanied by many imperfections — such benefits are not to be exactly identified with the advantages now resulting from the great bulwark of English liberty. Jurymen of the present day are the triers of the issue ; they are indivi duals who found their opinion upon evidence, whether oral or written, adduced before them ; and the verdict delivered by them is their declara tion of the judgment they have formed. But the ancient jurymen were not empannelled to examine into the credibility of the evidence — the ques tion was not discussed and argued before them : they, the jurymen, were the witnesses themselves ; and the verdict was substantially the examina tion of these witnesses, who, of their own knowledge, and without the aid of other testimony, afforded their evidence respecting the facts in ques tion, to the best of their belief. In its primitive form, therefore, a trial by jury was only a trial by witnesses ; and jurymen were distinguished from other witnesses only by the customs which imposed upon them the obligation of an oath, and regulated their number, and which prescribed their rank and defined the territorial qualifications from which they obtained their degree and influence in society.' — Palgrave's English Com monwealth, i. 243, 244. Perhaps the difference between the trial by compurgators and our trial by jury is a little over-stated in the above passage. The oath of the com purgators was valued as being that of men from the neighbourhood who were likely to know the character of the accused, and to know the cir cumstances of the case, not merely by common rumour, but by means more definite and certain. When they were agreed in saying not guilty, the sentence of the magistrate would scarcely be at issue with that deci sion. Their words were virtually, though not formally, an acquittal. It was, however, a material advance when the evidence came to be adduced in court, and the decision of guilty or not guilty was made to rest with the jury, and not with the judge. REVOLUTION IN GOVERNMENT. 267 ' oath and pledge' which had bound them as free- hook ii. booters, now binds them as men engaged in better occu- CaAP' ^ pations, and disposed to exchange government by the sword for government by law. Tithings, and hun dreds, and shire-courts, weave them all into a great social network, which covers the land. Every man enters into a security for the good conduct of the men nearest about him, and acts continuaUy, from the nature of the case, as an officer of police — and as an officer whose motives to vigilance supersede the neces sity of pay. Such as were not responsible to the court of the hundred, were responsible to the haU-court of their lord. AU localities have their local governments, and each locality has its refuge against injustice from within itself, in its right of appeal to the sense of justice be yond and above itself. Eor the tithings, the hun dreds, the haU-mote, the shires, the king's-court, the king himself — none of these are absolute. The last resort hes with the wisdom of the great councU of the nation, conjoined with the king. By the weak and necessitous such ultimate appeals would rarely be made. But the right was open to such cases and per sons as might reasonably claim a hearing in that high quarter. Such is the polity which, in new circum stances, grew out of those simple principles of govern ment which had been common to the Germanic race from the earliest time, and which were to be further developed through the storm and labour of centuries in English history. The not free among the Anglo- Saxons, were, as we have seen, either slaves, or persons under the protection of particular lords. Among these, some were rich, many were needy ; and the bene volence of our ancestors assigned a fourth of the revenue of the clergy, from aU sources, to the special benefit of the poor.* In judging of the revolution involved in the settled * Kemble's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ii. c. ii. 268 SAXONS AND DANES. book n. government of the Anglo-Saxons, the reader has to HAF" 8" view that government in two relations — in its relation to the disorders which it superseded in the case of the Bomanized Britons; and in its relation to the rude organizations of the Saxon hordes who migrated to our shores in the fifth and sixth centuries. CHAPTEE IX. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE IN ANGLO-SAXON BRITAIN. WAB is the great feature in Anglo-Saxon history, book ii. But even in these circumstances the industrious Chaf' 9' habits of the people are conspicuous. The names of industrial our old implements of husbandry are nearly aU of Ivgio- ' Saxon origin. Some knowledge of this science the Sn— /fgri- settlers may have acquired from the Bomanized Bri- ™"«re- tons. But they had not been whoUy strangers to such occupations in the countries from whence they came. To tiU the ground, indeed, had never been the work of their free men. It had been left to women and slaves. Nor did the agriculture of this island ever become, in the hands of the Saxons, what it had been under the Bomans. But its progress, though unequal, was^continuous and considerable, down to the Con quest. Much time was given by the Anglo-Saxons to the rearing of cattle and swine. The large pasture, and the extensive forest lands, at their disposal, were favour able to such pursuits. Even the viUeins, or peasants, were encouraged to become herdsmen on a small scale. The goat gave them milk and fleece. The skins of their herds gave them leather for shoes, breeches, and gloves — the latter being generaUy worn, even by the humblest. Wool was an article of exportation, and was returned by the artisans of the Netherlands and of 'the Bhine provinces in the form of woollen cloths. Honey was much valued ; and the bee-master was a person almost as well known as the swineherd. Great care was bestowed on the breeding of horses ; and laws were enacted to ensure attention to that object. 270 SAXONS AND DANES. ^°°k n- Hence the readiness with which the Danish invaders — - mustered their cavalry. We do not find that corn was ever imported into Saxon Britain, nor does the country appear to have suffered so much as most countries in those times from dearth, though mention is made of seasons in which the suffering-from this cause was great. The grain raised consisted of wheat, barley, rye, and oats : the latter were grown in great quantities, and appear to have been used as food by the people, much as in Scotland. The rent of land was generaUy paid in produce, it was rarely a money payment.* and'em-g - Among the good works of the Anglo-Saxon hus- bankments. "band.men, we must reckon their experiments in drain ing and embankments. Large tracts of marsh land were thus reclaimed, especially in the eastern counties. Garden culture was common, and not less so the cul ture of the vine. Beer, ale, and wine from the grape, were the common beverage. The citizens of London, who strolled on summer holidays from Barbican across Smithfield, or from Ludgate over Holborn Hill, did so amidst meadows, gardens, and vineyards. Every monastery had its vineyard. Gloucestershire was especially famous for its grapes. The wine so pro duced had its place on the king's table. In the better sort, the acidity, we may suppose, was subdued by . artificial means, f Mines. rphg RomaBg amassed large wealth from the mines of Britain. But the Britons did not prosecute the labours so commenced, and soon lost the knowledge so acquired. Even the tin mines of CornwaU seem to have been neglected for many centuries after the departure of the Bomans. But the Saxons obtained lead in Derbyshire, and iron in abundance from many quarters, particularly from Somersetshire, Monmouth- * Guil. Pictav. 210. Laws of Ina, xliv. et seq. and of Athelstan. Liber Niger Scaccarii, lib. i. c. 7. Hist. Eliens. i. $2. Lappenberg, ii. 356 et seq. t Malms, de Pont. lib. iv. Hist. Eliens. apud Gale. ii. 2. Ellis, Intrw/. i. 116, 203. Eymer, i. 17. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 271 shire, and Herefordshire, William of Poitiers speaks book it. of the universal wealth of Britain as greatly exceeding nA1'" ": that of France, and, strange to say, describes the island as another Arabia from the abundance of its gold. Salt was a great article of traffic among the Anglo- Saxons. The chief salt works were in Sussex and Cheshire. In the former county they numbered nearly four hundred such works at the time of the Conquest. Wales was supplied for the most part from the pits in Cheshire.* The men who lived by trade or handicraft were few, Handicraft compared with those who were otherwise employed, trade. Houses, furniture, utensds, clothing, personal orna ments, aU these suppose considerable industry and skUl in the ' mysteries' which give existence to such productions. Most of these, we may be assured, were by native artists, though foreign workmen were intro duced by ecclesiastics and kings, from time to time, who became the educators of native talent. Cathe drals and royal residences came by degrees to be built of stone ; but the houses of the Anglo-Saxons, even of their great men, continued to be constructed, for the most part, of wood and other perishable material. f Stamford is mentioned as the place where a company of cloth- weavers foUowed their vocation. \ In the working of embroidery, presenting a rich display of colours and gold, the Anglo-Saxons, and especially the females, so far excelled, that productions of this nature became known in most of the capitals of Europe under the name of ' English Work.'§ So early as the eighth century we find an English merchant named Bolto resident at Marseilles, the said merchant being the father of a bishop. I| Such men, we have reason * Guil. Pictav.107. Domesday, i. 268. Ellis, i. 132. Lappenberg, ii. 363-364.. t Bede, Hist. Abb. 195. Eddius, Vita Wilf. c. 16, 17, 22. Asser, Vita Alf. 20. Malms, de Beg. lib. 2, 3. Ingnlph. X Domesday, i. 336. § Muratori, Antiq. v. 12. Guil. Pictav. 211. || Lappenberg, ii. 364. 272 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. to believe, were known in all the great marts of the chapj,. Contilieilt One of the laws of Edward the Elder raised the merchant who had made three voyages in his own ship to the rank of a thane.* Charle magne, as we have seen, sent to Offa, king of Mercia, the complaint of certain French merchants concerning the wooUen articles exported from England as being unfairly diminished in size.f London was known as the great meeting-place of foreign traders. French, Nor mans, Flemings, ' men of the Emperor,' that is, men from the rising Hanse towns of Germany — all might be seen in their foreign costume, and heard in their foreign tongue, as they exposed their commodities for sale on the land at BUlingsgate, or in their vessels upon the Thames. As it was in this respect in London, so. was it in a measure in all the chief seaports. Bristol, even then, was a place of much traffic. % Its mer chants were in constant intercourse with Ireland, where they carried on a trade in slaves. % But these different kinds of traffic were conducted for the most part in the way of barter. Some of the bolder Anglo- Saxon seamen engaged in the whale fishery, and extended their voyages to Iceland. || So did the industrial and commercial genius of the Saxon race in Britain begin to develop itself. The sea-king thus gave himself to the service which was to transform him into the. merchant-king. In this new form of the spirit of adventure we see the germ of the power which has since given a people to half the continent of America, and has set up its sovereignty over the fairest portion of Africa and India. The impulse is still the impulse of race — resolute, en- * Ancient Laws and Institutions of England, 8 1 , t Epist. Caroli ad Offam, Wilkins, i. i$g. + Lappenberg, ii. 315. § Anglia Sacra,ii. Vita S. Wulstani. || Lappenberg, ii. 364. There are many laws which show that th» internal trade of Saxon Britain was considerable, and subject to many cautious regulations. — Ibid. ii. 3$$, 356, REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 273 during, indomitable. When the home of the Saxon book ii. was changed, his vocation and tastes changed; but CHAP' 9' this change has been simply the finding of a new outlet for the old tendency towards action and adven ture, and the old passion for dominion. The inteUectual life of the Anglo-Saxons, in our The intei- sense of that expression, begins with their conversion^/thf h to Christianity. The bard, combining skdl in poetry g"|^"s and music, has his place in nearlyjU rude nations. We have some knowledge of^thelyric poetry of the pagan Northmen ; but we know nothing of this embryo literature as it may have existed -among the pagan Saxons. Many attempts have been made to in terpret the old Bunic characters of the Scandinavians ; but the results of such labour are of small value.* We scarcely need say, that with the Anglo-Saxons Music and the capacity to read and write continued to the last poe n' to be almost exclusively the accomphshment of the clergy. . Even kings were not expected to attach their names to documents, but to ' sign' with a cross. But it was the manner of our ancestors to learn their poetry, and especiaUy their ballad and glee poetry, by heart ; and in this way they often possessed themselves of the contents of books while destitute of books. Of music they were passionately fond; and it was their custom in their social gatherings to. sing in parts, combining the harmony of verse with the harmony of sound. The word ' glee' is of Saxon origin, and has descended to us from times when our countrymen who could not read verse, found delight in singing it. Alfred records in his Hand-boc that Aldhelm, bishop of Sherborne, to secure the attention of his rude neighbours, was wont to stand on a bridge and sing his religious instruction to them in the form of ballads, f * Palgrave's History of the Anglo-Saxons, c. vii. f Ibid. Turner's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ix. c. I. We may judge of the pleasure which the Anglo-Saxons felt in glee singing from the fact that many canons of the church forbid the clergy being parties to such amusements.— Ancient Laws and Institutions, 400, 401, 418. I T 274 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. But the poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, even in their C-77Z\^' Christian state, never rose to a level to be interesting to modern readers, except as belonging to the curious in the history of literature. The best known among this class of compositions, is the narrative poem by Cedmon, and the poems on Beowulf and Judith. .The compositions of these authors have something of an epic purpose in them. Aldhelm, Alcuin, and other men of their order, also wrote poetry; but they wrote in Latin, not in the vernacular tongue. Cedmon is much praised by Bede. His narrative embraces the faU of the angels, the creation, the entrance of sin, and the victory achieved oyer Satan. It treats of Paradise as lost and as regained. The conception is so far Mil- tonic, but we cannot speak of the execution as being, of that order. The author of Beowulf is not known. The work is attributed to the tenth century. It is a historical romance, with a good deal of the old saga or heathen element in it. Bothgar, a king, finds many of his faithful thanes cut off by the secret agency of Grendal, one of the bad deities, of the Saxon mytho logy. Beowulf, a young warrior from a distant land, undertakes to destroy Grendal, and, through some difficulty and danger, at length succeeds. In the development of this story descriptions are given of persons, scenes, conversations, and encounters, which illustrate the thinking and manners of the times. The poem of Judith is founded on the story of Judith and Holofernes, but exhibits — characters and manners — a strange medley of Eastern and Western, ancient and modern. The poetical element in these compositions is very • limited. It is almost confined to a few Ossian-like turns of thought or expression, which oceur at intervals. The substance consists of what we should account in different prose, subject to the restraints of a particular rhythm, the laws of which it is often difficult to dis cover. The Latin poetry of the Anglo-Saxons is deserving notice mainly, not as poetry, but as illus- REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 275 trating the taste and scholarship realized in those book ii. days. If the poet too often lacked fire in his native CHAP' 9' tongue, he was not likely to feel it in attempting to speak through all the artificial impediments of an acquired language.* The nearest approach to genuine poetry in the his- Baiiads. tory of Anglo-Saxon literature appears to have been realized in the popular lyric ballads. These composi tions, as designed for the people, and not for the scholar, were natural in their style and substance, bearing only a very partial resemblance to the more ambitious productions just mentioned. They came into prevalence in the later period of Anglo-Saxon history. They treated of love, war, and the manners of the times, and of these with the admixture of pathos, energy, and satire common to the minstrel in his use of such themes. Many of the anecdotes given with so much finish in Hume's History, from Malms bury and others, were transmitted in this form to the times of the Normans. The hcentious habits of king Edgar, the great favourite of Dunstan and his church men, did not escape the lash of this troubadour litera ture. Some judgment may be formed of the skill which at times characterized these performances, from the account given of Alfred as finding his way to the tent of Guthorm the Dane under the privileged guise of a minstrel. In that guise, too, Anlaf, the great Northman leader, is said to have gained access to the tent of Athelstan, when that king led his formidable army into Northumbria. It thus appears that the most distinguished and accomplished men were known to be students in this art ; and that the harper had his place and reputation with aU ranks, with people and princes. t The prose literature of the Anglo-Saxons, coming Prose lite rature. * Turner's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ix. c. i.-v. t Malmsbury de Beg. lib. ii. c. 4, 6. Bede, Hist. lib. iv^c. 24. Ingulf, 67, 68. Hist. Eliens. $o$. T 2 276 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. as it did wholly from the clergy, was naturaUy in a "AP" .' great degree ecclesiastical and theological. The only teaching accessible to them was such teaching as characterized the darkest interval of the Middle Age.. The writings of Bede and Alcuin give us the most favourable view of prose composition as found among the Anglo-Saxon clergy; and to mention the most favourable example among laymen is, of course, to name the great Alfred. We learn from the writings of Alcuin, that he grew up from childhood in the city of York, and that he was educated in the school or college sustained there by the pious archbishop Egbert. The archbishop, and Aelbert his kinsman, conducted the teaching of the establishment. The course of in-' struction embraced grammar, rhetoric, jurisprudence, poetry, astronomy, physic, and theology — the last con sisting of expositions of the Old and New Testaments. Grateful was the feeling of Alcuin as he looked back in after life to the services of Aelbert in York, and remembered how the good man endeavoured to inspire his pupils with a true love of learning, as he read to them 'from the pages of many Latin authors — such as Cicero, Virgil, Pliny, Statius, Lucan, and Boethius. Alcuin was resident eight yearsi. n the court of Charle magne, and subsequently found the quiet he coveted as abbot of Tours. His reputation and influence were great, both in the French court and in France gene raUy. Bede's influence was more felt in his own country. Both were men of piety, and of great industry ; but Alcuin was more free from superstitious creduldy, more a man of the world, and a man of general capa city and culture, than the devout Saxon to whom the affection of our ancestors gave the name of the ' Vene- ' rable.' The prose writings of both these authors are admirable for their unpretending simplicity.* On these models the style of Alfred was formed. Malms- * See the Life of Alcuin, by Dr. Frederick Lorenz. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 277 bury is loud in his praise of bishop Aldhelm as a book ir. prose writer, but the praise is iU-bestowed. He is CHAP' "' everywhere exaggerated and unnatural.* The most favourable period in the history of Anglo- PfhVk1 Saxon literature is that associated with the names of ed by the Bede and Alcuin. Their disciples were many. But Danes" soon after their day began the invasions of the North men ; and such were the ravages then perpetrated, that the labours of Alfred in this direction were not so much labours to originate learned studies as to re store them. The great Anglo-Saxon king was occu pied during the earlier part of his reign in the struggle to save his country from the hands of the men who had invaded it. When that object had been as far as possible achieved, he began to look to the social im provement and the intellectual culture of his people. In regard to literature he had himself much to learn. UntU this time he had been ignorant of the Latin tongue. Amidst the cares of a royalty especiaUy beset with care, he acquired a knowledge of that lan guage. The use he made of this new power, was to translate from that language such works as he thought most likely to promote the religious and general im provement of his subjects. What are caUed Alfred's Works, consist, for the most part, of these transla tions. But they are very free translations. He often gives the substance, in the place of the literal render ing. He often omits and inserts at pleasure. These pubhcations, accordingly, become expressive of the mind and heart of the patriot king. Among the works thus selected, were the Chronicle of the World, a sort of general history by Orosius ; the Consolations of Philo sophy, by that last of the Bomans, Boethius ; portions of the writings of Pope Gregory, and, apparently, Bede's Ecclesiastical History. Copies of these writings were multiplied and distributed, especially in the places * Turner's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ix. c. 6. Palgrave, c. 7, 8, 9. 278 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. where the clergy were engaged in the work of educa- chap^s. ^on * rp^g effec^ 0f g-u^ an example must have been very great. But all these hopeful proceedings were not a little counteracted by the subsequent inroads of the Danes. To the warlike god Odin, no sacrifice was thought to be more acceptable, than that of men who had deserted his worship, and become a set of shaven psalm-singers. Everything, in such places, was de stroyed. More than the half of England passed into the hands of these strangers. Their power, as we have seen, became great along the whole coast north of the Thames, and stretched far inland, so as to cover a large portion of the great kingdom of Mercia, and of the ancient kingdom of Deira. Subsequently to the time of Alfred, there was room to hope that the Danes and Saxons might gradually amalgamate, and conjointly prove strong enough to repel aU further invasion. But if such hope was entertained, it proved to be iUusive. Invasion only became more formidable as the island was known to have become more capable of resistance. The Eng lish Danes too often fraternized with the invaders, and disorder increased, until a Danish dynasty came, for a while, into the place of the Saxon. England thus fell into the hands of great landowners who were of two races. The house was thus divided against itself. The restoration of the Saxon line in Edward the Confessor seemed to promise that oil would be poured on these troubled waters. But that tendency of affairs was not to last. Of course, the converted. Danes, after a time, shared considerably in the spirit of improvement, Odo, one of their number, became archbishop of Can terbury. The mind of Canute came under Christian influences with much advantage to himself and his subjects. The counties occupied by the Danes in cluded a larger proportion of freemen at the time of * Dr. Pauli's Life of Alfred, chap. vi. REVOLUTION IN SOCIAL LIFE. 279 the Conquest than the more purely Saxon districts, book ii. But in a kingdom whose entire population was re- "AP' 9' stricted to between two and three millions, and with so large a proportion of the population in a condition more or less servde, the number acquiring any know ledge of letters must have been smaU.* This privileged class received instruction in the schools connected with the different cathedrals and monasteries, or under the private tuition of ecclesiastics who were competent to such service, and disposed so to employ themselves. In this manner the Anglo-Saxons acquired the little science. they knew of science. Here, as everywhere, their object was not so much to discover as to learn — to rescue and secure the fragments of a past knowledge which seemed to be fast floating by them to oblivion. Arithmetic they studied after the manner of the ancients, without the aid of the Arabic numerals, and adhering to the metaphysical distinction of num bers. So studied, even arithmetic was a difficult science. Bede attempted something in natural philosophy. His work here was to copy the truth and error of those who had gone before him. His great merit consists in the good sense which disposes him to attribute natural phenomena so generaUy to natural causes. But the geography of our wonder-loving fathers teemed, not only with mistakes, but with inventions of a very free description. The countries between Canterbury and Bome, and between Bome and Jerusalem, came to be pretty familiar to them. Strange sights, however, according to report, were to be seen in some of those distant regions. Those who would travel far enough would find themselves in lands in which there were * Palgrave's Commonwealth, c. I. Mr. Hallam describes the ceorl as the precursor of our English yeoman, and regards- the serfs, or slaves proper, as consisting mostly of Britons, and of such Saxons as became slaves through becoming criminals. — Middle Ages, ii. 386, 387. Saxons were sometimes thus reduced by other causes ; but, taken together, the serfs at the Conquest do not appear to have formed more than about one in eighty of the population. 280 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. white people fifteen feet high, some with two faces, chapes. gome -^h neither face nor head, their eyes and mouth being placed in their chest ; and some eight feet high, with a diameter equal to their altitude. Learned men did not, of course, pay much heed to these marvellous relations. Alcuin expresses himself very sensibly concerning physics, ethics, and logic, the favourite studies of his time. What the Bomans knew on these subjects the more intelligent Anglo-Saxons knew and taught. This observation applies to the astronomy, the chemistry, the medicine, the surgery, and the metaphysics of our ancestors. In all these the Boman authors were their preceptors, and they .foUowed their masters at various distances. In religion only was it given them to be innovators. They had substituted a new religion in the place of the old ; but even this had come to them from the old source.* In literature, and in mental culture of every descrip tion, the Saxons had to begin with the lowest elements. Even their teachers were the ill- instructed of a dark age — whUe their own struggle for independence, and even for existence, was often such as to leave them little leisure or inclination for such pursuits. Bear ing these facts in mind, it should not be deemed sur prising if the signs of intellectual life among them are found to be more valuable for what they seem to promise, than from what they include. Enough was achieved in most unfavourable circumstances, to war rant the hope of something much better should better circumstances arise. The distance is no doubt great between a Bede and a Gibbon, a Cedmon and a MUton, but these men have aU spoken the same mother-tongue, and belong to the development of the same national inteUect. Turner's Anglo-Saxons, bk. ix. c. 7, 8. CHAPTEB X. CONCLUSION. w E have seen that the settlement of the Saxons book ii. Chap. io. and Danes in Britain was a settlement by the sword. It led to a subjugation, and a large dis- Conolusion- placement, of the old British population. In the case of the invaders, this change brought with it a change from a state in which the soU was not private pro perty, but the property of the community, ever passing into new hands, to a state in which the private person comes to possess his freehold, and, as a consequence, learns to add to the rearing of cattle, the tiUage of the ground, the construction of a new order of build ings, and the signs of a general progress in industry, learning, science, and art. The restless sea-king be comes stationary, as a great landholder. His foUowers are content to live at his side as small landholders and tenants. Property accumulates from industry. With the increase of property, better usage, better law, and a better administration of law, make their appearance. Men everywhere feel more secure in their persons and possessions. The steps in this course are slow and irregular, but they are real, and what is once gained is never wholly lost. It is common to attribute these happy results to the usages of self-government with which our ancestors were famihar. The tithing, the hundred, and the county-court are aU supposed to have been normal schools, in which the mind of the Anglo-Saxon was trained to understand, to appreciate, and to realize political liberty. But it should be remembered that such customs were by no means peculiar to the Anglo- 282 SAXONS AND DANES.. . book ii. Saxons. They existed substantially in aU the nations !Lt!_l°" of Europe at that time, either as a continuance of the municipia of old Bome, or as native to the new settlers. They exist* at this day under governments which know nothing of political liberty. The Eussian vil lager has his commune, which with him is a lesser empire, and not to be resisted. The Chinese, also, have lived for ages under a scheme of local govern ment much more elaborate and scientific than any thing existing in this country before the Conquest. But all Europe has not inherited our political freedom. The people of Bussia and of China have no conception of it. How are we to account for this ? The main reason, we think, is to be found in the fact that those forms of local government have been purely administrative. They have been restricted to the local administration of law. Their relation to a central authority possessing the power to make or to unmake law has been purely passive. It is possible that the institutions of a people should be such as to cause them to be sensible that to them it pertains, in their measure, to make law, as well as to administer it ; and it is then that they become truly alive to the motives which dispose men to political action. Where the remedies for social evils are expected to come wholly from the govern ment, the people are naturally passive. But it is otherwise where the community is aware that the means of amelioration are really in their own hands. It is in this feeling of the freeman's relation to the high court of Parliament, as well as to the courts of law, that we have the great secret of English hberty. The hundred court, and the county court, were good schools, but their efficiency would not have been great had they stood alone. Not that the democratic element among our an cestors was very prominent, or very clearly defined. It was with Anglo-Saxon Britain in this respect as it was with Europe. It embraced the germs of aU poli- CONCLUSION. 283 tical theories. First, there was the church, with her book n. principle of theocracy. Then there was the crown, as QlAP' 10" the emblem of monarchy. Next came the earl and the thane, as representatives of the aristocratic power. Next the men of the hundred court, or of the borough court, as representing the democracy. The political history of England and of Europe is not the history of any one of these principles, but the history of them aU ; and consists especially in the history of the causes which have determined the measure of these respective influences in different countries at different times. In our own history, the combined influence of these different elements has given us results greatly more valuable than could have come from any one of them separately. The form in which our Anglo-Saxon laws gave protection to the person and property of the freeman, contained the. seeds of aU the liberties which later generations have been so careful to define, expand, and secure.. In those laws some thing is due to the justice of the sovereign, more to the jealousy of the subject. To study our constitu tional history under the Normans and Plantagenets, the Tudors and Stuarts, without the study of it under the Anglo-Saxons, would be to concern our selves with effects apart from their causes. The usages and institutions of the men who fought under king Harold at Hastings, were to become to this country what their language has become. In religion, the change which took place in the history of the Anglo-Saxons is not less observable than the change in their political and social life. It presents a conversion from heathenism to Christianity. It is true the Christianity embraced was imperfect, and had its admixtures of superstition. It was the Chris tianity of the church of that age, not the Christianity of the sacred writings, nor of the first century. But that church existed as a great moral power, in an age when force was almost the only recognised power. Brute power was thus confronted by a higher power. 284 SAXONS AND DANES. book ii. An authority was introduced which was above human — — ' authority. The spiritual was declared to be above the temporal. To the latter men owed a boddy aUe giance. To the former they owed the aUegiance of mind. Only on the ground of this distinction can men know what is meant by liberty of conscience. The clergy claimed this spiritual liberty for themselves, and for their flocks, from the rude chiefs of those days. TJnhappUy, the dominion over mind which they denied to the magistrate, they were only too eager to exer cise themselves. Nevertheless, it was no smaU matter to compel the world of action to do homage in this manner to the world of thought ; and the time was to come when the arguments urged by the priest against the magistrate, were to be urged by the people against the priest. To learn that there are things in religion that do not belong to Caesar, is the next step to learn ing that there are things in it that do not belong to the priest. On the whole, the Christianity professed by the Anglo-Saxons was the Christianity possible to them in their time, just as the principles of liberty which they realized were the principles possible to them in their circumstances. Their new faith, with aU its faults, contributed to soften their manners, to strengthen their habits of industry, "to infuse a more humane spirit into their social relations, to elevate and disciphne their thoughts, and so to prepare them for laying that social groundwork on which their more favoured descendants have reared the constructions befitting a later age. BOOK III, NORMANS AND ENGLISH. CHAPTEE I. THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. THE Normans were of the same race with' the book hi. people variously designated as Saxons and An- J^j- gles, Jutes and Frieslanders, Danes and Northmen. °*eigN0r°f Often in feud at home, these bands of freebooters gene- mi">8- raUy avoided dissension abroad. We have seen that their piratical expeditions date as far back as the second century ; and they are continued untU the settlement of the Norman power in this country, nearly nine centuries later. Every coast-land between the Baltic and the northern shores, of Africa felt the scourge of their presence, more or less, during those many years. Charlemagne counselled his successors to keep a vigi lant guard against this enemy on every shore and river. Louis-le-debonaire, in the early part of the ninth century, acted on this precaution. He repeUed the attacks made in his time. He did more, he per suaded Harold, a Dane, then, in possession of some Bhenish provinces, to profess himself a Christian. It wiU be remembered that the attacks of the Northmen on Anglo-Saxon Britain began towards the close of the eighth century. In 835, and some sub sequent years, the descents of the northern pirates on the shores of Gaul and Belgium were more than ever disastrous. In one Belgic city fifty-four churches are said to have been destroyed. They settled themselves 286 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iu. at Walcheren, and did their best to possess themselves hapj. o£ igiand fortresses at the mouth of the Seine. Pesti lence added its horrors to the terror inspired by the Scandinavian plunderers, and the dismay of the people filled the heavens with portents. First inva- The year 841 brings us to the first great invasion of Neustria. Neustria, the future Normandy. In that year the king of France withdrew his ships from Bouen. The Northmen squadrons, which were always ready to assist each other on the understanding of being admitted to their share in the common booty, seized the moment to take possession of the mouth of the Seine. It happened that the tides were high, rushing strongly inland. The armament, under the direction of Oscar, • its commander, made rapid way with the stream ; and the Northmen glanced for the first time on the corn fields and orchards, on wood and dell, on church and monastery, viUage and town, on either side, as they shone brightly in the summer sun, and rested in that quietness and opulence which a long. season of pro sperity had secured to them. But those glances at the signs of so much wealth were taken while each man pulled at the oar with the fuU strength of his Norwegian arm, and used the rising tide to the utmost. spoils from Bouen, and the surrounding country, fell into the Kouea. hands 0f the invaders. They occupied the city three days. When they descended the river, their spod, in treasures of all descriptions, and in captives of both sexes, and of every rank; was a novelty, from its variety and value, even in the history of the Northman suc cesses. MuGh was done by this enterprise towards preparing the way for the dukedom, of Normandy. Kagnar Four years later, the famous Eagnar Lodbrog, whose Lodbrog. name is so disastrously associated with our own his tory, recaptured Eouen, and besieged and took the city of Paris. Lodbrog's track was marked by the usual devastations. He returned to Denmark laden with wealth. On this occasion, the crown of France THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 287 paid its first Danegelt. The enemy was thus bought book iii. off for a time, but for a short time only* Oscar was cfl^J/ stUl roving from coast to coast at the head of a power ful fleet. Eric the Eed, a chief of higher authority than Lodbrog in his own country, came abroad with a great armament. The shores of the Elbe, the Seine, and the Loire were aU ravaged, now by one, now by another. Eivalries, like those which divided the states of the Heptarchy, divided the Continental princes, precluded combined and vigorous resistance, and the way was thus left open to the common enemy. In 857 Paris was again attacked. In 861 it was again taken. By this time many of the Northmen were settled on the lands which they had conquered. Large provinces were ceded to them by treaty. They married wives from the new country. Ground was thus laid for a gradual change of habits and rehgion. But wide was the sweep of disturbance which preceded this com parative rest. ( Take a map, and cover with vermilion ' the provinces, districts, and shores which the North- ' men visited, as the record of each invasion. The ' colouring wUl have to be repeated more than ninety ' times successively before you arrive at the conclusion ' of the Carlovingian dynasty. Furthermore, mark, ' by the usual symbol of war, two crossed swords, the ' locahties where battles were fought by or against the ' pirates ; where they were defeated or triumphant ; "or where they .pillaged, burned, or destroyed; and ' the vaUeys and banks of Elbe, Bhine, and MoseUe, ' Scheldt, Meuse, Somme, and Seine, Loire, Garonne, ' and Adour, the inland Allier, and aU the coasts and ' coast-lands between estuary and estuary, and the ' countries between the river streams, wiU appear ' bristling as with a chevaux-de-frise.'* Such was the force of the stream of migration Boiio, which had set in when Eollo and his Northmen Jj^or"ke first entered the Seine, took possession of Eouen, and mandy. * Palgrave's History qf England Und Normandy. 288 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book m. settled there. Little credit is due to the accounts HAP' *' which have Reached us concerning the early history of Bollo. Three generations, it seems, had passed away since his decease before anything relating to him was committed to writing. We know, however, that he hved through the reigns of three French kings, and that he extorted concessions from them all. His first occupation of Bouen was in 876 ; but it is not until 911 that he becomes the settled and recognised lord of Normandy. wuiiam i. EoUo died at an advanced age. Who should suc ceed him was a question which he left professedly in the hands of his great men. But he recommended his son to that dignity. In this proceeding we see the influence of the voluntary and equal terms on which the confederations of the Northmen were based. But the Normans conformed themselves to the customs of the Franks in this particular, as in almost everything. WiUiam possessed none of the warlike tendencies of his father. The clergy, to whose care he had been entrusted from his youth, had trained him to other tastes. . But, like many timid men, he could be treach erous and cruel; and he was himself deceived and murdered in the ninth year of his reign. He was Eichard i. succeeded by his natural son Eichard, a boy not ten years of age. This change brought its troubles. The Norman power in France was for a season in much danger. But the reign of Eichard extended from 942 to 996. In his policy he took sides with the French monarchy, and showed himself friendly to the church and to churchmen. So great was the influence of the clergy on this grandson of EoUo, that at his death, he deemed himself unworthy of burial in a church, and desired that he might be laid by its outside wall, as near it as might be, but not within it. He was suc ceeded by his son Eichard, surnamed the Good. Richard ii. But Eichard the Second was also a youth On his ~.eS?Mt accession ; and this circumstance was again the occa- of the Nor- sion of disturbance. The peasantry of Normandy mans. THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 289 were grievously oppressed. They meditated an insur- book hi. rection. But the leaders were seized, and their heads Chap' '' and hands were sent to be exposed in their respective vdlages. Some other dangers were also dealt with successfully. In his general policy Eichard followed the steps of his father. He also kept up a friendly and prudent relation with his countrymen the Danes. His influence was great. The balance of affairs in France was in his hand. His military successes were considerable. But these were a natural result of the amount of mditary passion and ability at his disposal. Already the chivalry of Normandy had become much too formidable to be restricted to that province. It found outlets for itself, not only in every part of France, but in Spain, and in the south of Italy. One of Eichard's vassals, Eoger of Tosny, attacked the Mos lems of Spain, and distinguished himself alike by his valour and his cruelties. He is said to have made his Moslem captives eat the flesh of their fellow Moslems, cut up and boded hke pork. The enterprises of the Normans in Italy and Sicily were more legitimate and honourable. Not only Sicily, but Apulia and Calabria feU into their hands. In fact, had the Normans been confined to France as a field of action at this juncture, France must have become Norman ; and had not the crown of England become a tempting prize some years later, the crown of France would probably have been seized in its stead. The just and beneficent reign of Eichard II.. came Richard in. to a close in 1026, having extended to thirty yeafs. ]*^!jrt the He was succeeded by his eldest son, of the same name. But Eichard III. was poisoned in the second year of his reign — poisoned, it is believed, through the in fluence of his younger brother Eobert, who is known in history as his successor under the name of Eobert the Devil. Eobert was assailed on his accession from several quarters, but he succeeded in consohdating his power. And now this man of violent passions and dark deeds, resolved, as many like him in those ages 1 u 290 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book ni. had done, to become a religious devotee, and to per- Chap' '' form a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. On his way home the fate befel him which had befaUen his. brother Eichard — he was poisoned. This event paved the way for the accession of his Ulegitimate son William, who became WiUiam II. of Normandy, and Wilham the Conqueror of England. — theTo"' ^e early years of WiUiam, like those of aU his queror. predecessors, were years of inquietude and danger. His uncle, by his mother's side, saved him more than once from the machinations of his enemies, by remov ing him from his chamber under the cover of the night to some humble dwelling near it. In one instance the weapon designed for himself destroyed one of his household, who happened to be in his apartment. But William survived, and lived to subdue one enemy after another, untU his power became more formidable than that of any man who had borne his title. His extraordinary capacity and energy contributed in part to this result. But other qualities had their share in producing it. WUliam could deceive, could lie, could be pitdess, and could use the poisoned cup to remove impediments from the path of his ambition. Few men with the bad tendencies of human nature in such force have risen to such greatness. No man loved him. No man hoped for anything from his virtue. His seeming good was never good, it was always something meted out by personal considerations. Bobert the Devil was his father : but he lacked some of the virtues even of such a sire, for Eobert was at times genial, mirthful, and had a great contempt for money-getting, while his son WiUiam was reserved, gloomy, and hardly more remarkable for his ambition than for his covetousness.* society in It is now expedient that we should look a little Normandy. more ciogeiy jnt0 the state of society in Normandy, * See his character by a writer in the Saxon Chronicle (a.d. 1087) who had lived at his court, and evidently does not mean to do wrong to his memory. THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 291 seeing that the good or bad of that society is about to book ur, become so much our own. CHAP' ' One remarkable feature in the history of the North- Great revo- men in Normandy consisted in the readiness with manner". which they threw off almost everything that had been characteristic of them down to the time of their settle ment in that country. They retained their warlike habits, their pride, and their love of independence and adventure. But they adhered no longer to their Scandinavian customs ; they soon ceased to speak their mother-tongue ; they adopted the religion of the Franks, and with it their modes of legislation and of judicature, and then general usage. Some of these changes came more suddenly than others, but aU came about, more or less, within a few generations. We have no evidence that the Normans retained any vestige of the poetry which had exerted so much influence on some of the northern nations. So soon did they lose their native language, that they have not given us a single line in it, either in manuscript or in monument. What they were in the homes from which they came, and what prompted them to migrate from those homes, cannot be learnt from any memorials of then own. They could appreciate the more ad vanced civilization of their neighbours. They were a minority in the midst of a majority who spoke a superior language. They married wives in the new country who knew nothing of the speech of then hus bands, nothing of the customs that had been famdiar to them ; and the mothers trained their children to their own ways and preferences. When the Christian clergy came to have some influence, that weight was thrown into the same scale. One of the earliest and most conspicuous of these Reception changes was the adoption of Christianity. But in this Sanity— event we see the impress of the Norman nationality. oJ.°^8lives Among the Scandinavian nations the power of the oiergy. priesthood was not great. Few men of that order would appear to have accompanied the migratory u 2 292 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. bands who sought a home southward. When the "AP' .!' Normans professed themselves Christians, quite a cen tury passed before the clergy were aUowed to assemble in synod or council — a course of things singularly, dif ferent from what had taken place among the Anglo- Saxons. Among the latter, an exemption of delin quent priests from aU responsibility to the secular magistrate was soon claimed and secured.* But the order were not soon to be so privileged in Normandy. The morals of the clergy, however, do not appear to have been improved by this course of proceeding towards them. It was notorious that priests in general kept their women; that prelates took money as the price of tolerating the disorder ; and that the manners of those dignitaries were often most dissolute. At tempts to remove these scandals caUed forth riots in the streets, and even in the churches. With such things as possible among the clergy, we cannot expect much of the conduct proper to the Christian profes sion among the laity. So late as the first year in the eleventh century, some fifty years only before the Conquest, a French ecclesiastic, on being invited by the duke of Normandy to reform a corrupt monastery at Fecamp, refused, aUeging as his reason that he knew the Normans to be rough and barbarous in their manners, and more inclined to destroy Christian edifices than to rear them. Norman ar- But it must be admitted that the next half century cwtecture. pro- coast near Hastings. It anchored not far from the shore. Soon three or four other vessels came in sight from the same point. In a few hours, the number of sads multiplied, until the surface of the sea seemed covered as with a forest. In that first vessel was the duke of Normandy — in the rest were some 50,000 men- at-arms, exclusive of a large body of infantry.* The whole'fleet swept along the coast in sight of old Beachy Head, and in the inlet to the north of it, now known as Pevensey Bay, the invaders disembarked. More than ten centuries had passed since a similar Military armament was seen approaching this island under the English command of Csesar ; and more than six centuries since hiat0T7- the keels of Hengist the sea-king landed then com plement of fighting men on the coast of Kent. So the great epochs of Eevolution by the Sword have been marked in our history. Harold, as one of his misfortunes, had to face two The sum- . powerful armies, in distant parts of the kingdom, mer0 almost . at the same time. Eumours concerning the intentions and preparations of the duke of Normandy soon reached England. During the greater part of the summer, Harold, at the head of a large naval and military force, had been on the watch along the Eng lish coast. But months passed away, and no enemy became visible. William, it was said, had become aware of the measures which had been taken to meet * Ordericus, lib. iii. c. 14. Tostig. 300 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. him. It was believed by many that his foUowers had .mil'' become distrustful and divided. Many supposed that, on various grounds, the enterprise had been abandoned. Provisions also, for so great an army, became scarce. The men began to disperse ; and Harold, disbanding the remainder, returned to London.* invasion But the news now came that Harald Hardrada, Tostig and king of Norway, had landed in the north, and was Hardrada. ravaging the country in conjunction with Tostig, Harold's elder brother. This event came from one of those domestic feuds which did so much at this juncture to weaken the power of the English. Feuds be- Tostig had exercised his authority in Northumbria gre™" e Id the most arbitrary manner, and had perpetrated sanxon"fa- atrocious crimes in furtherance of his objects. The mines— result was an amount of disaffection which seems to have put it out of the power of his friends to sustain him. He had married a daughter of Baldwin, count of Flanders, and so was brother-in-law to the duke of Normandy. His brother Harold, as he affirmed, had not done a brother's part towards him, and he was more disposed, in consequence, to side with the Nor man than with the Saxon in the approaching struggle. The army with which he now appeared, consisted mostly of Norwegians and Flemings, and their avowed object was to divide not less than half the kingdom' between them. Mercia, as thus menaced, naturally took part with the men of Wessex. But in Mercia also there was disaffection and distrust. Harold had come into severe collision with Leofric, the powerful earl of that province ; and subsequently with his suc cessor, the great Alfgar. It is true, both those great men were now dead, and Harold had married Eadgyth, a daughter of Alfgar. But the marriage could hardly have been a happy one. Eadgyth was a woman of great ambition, and unscrupulous in her. use of means to gratify her passions. Her brothers, the young earls * Chron. Sax. 1066, Fl. Wigorn. THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 301 Edwin and Morcar, appear to have been estimable men, book hi. and were much beloved. But there is room to think CnAP' '" that, being themselves ofthe famUy of Leofric, they were not altogether pleased in seeing a member of the rival famUy of Godwin on the throne. They summoned then forces, however, to repel the invasion under Tostig. Before Harold could reach the north, they hazarded an engagement at a place named Fulford, on the Ouse, Defeat of not far from Bi'shopstoke. But then measures were MorcTr a" not wisely taken. They were defeated with great Fulford- loss.* The invaders seem to have regarded this victory as Battle of deciding the fate of that part of the kingdom. They Bridge. obtained hostages at York, and then moved to Stamford Bridge, where they began the work of dividing the northern parts of England between them. But in the midst of these proceedings clouds of dust were seen in the distance. The first thought was, that the multitude which seemed to be approaching must be friends. But the iUusion was soon at an end. The dust raised was by the march of an army of West- Saxons under the command of Harold. The Norwe gians, in their false confidence, had not kept well to gether. Tostig, who knew what was to be expected from an army of Wessex men under such leadership, advised a retreat. But the Norwegian king was a man of renown in his own land. It was not for him to take a course that would look so much hke cowardice. An engagement was accordingly inevitable. Tostig and his Flemings were marshaUed apart. T*rley be- Presently, a body of twenty horsemen, completely Harold and cased in armour, approached this division, and one ofTostlg' their number called for a man who should take a mes sage from Harold to his brother Tostig.' The man so addressed, answered ' I am Tostig.' ' Then,' said the other, ' King Harold sends to thee his good-wiU, and * Sim. Dunelm. H. Hunt. Marian. Scot. Fl. Wigorn. Sax. Chron. 302 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. ( this message — he tends to thee peace, and all North- CHAP" '" ' umbria ; yea, he wUl not grudge a third of his king- ' dom to have thee as his faithful friend.' — ' Why has ' not this come before ? much blood has now been spilt,' said Tostig. ' But what of Hardrada the Norwegian, ' what recompence for him ?' — ' Seven feet of England's ' earth,' was the reply, ' and as much more as his ' length is beyond that of other men,' said the Saxon. ' Then go to thy master,' was the answer, " and teU ' him to prepare for battle, for Norwegian men shall ' never say that Tostig played false to then king in ' the land of his enemies.' These words seem to say that Tostig, hard man, and man of blood that he was, had some good thing in him. Hardrada had observed from a distance the high bearing of the horseman from the Saxon ranks, and was not the more assured of success in the approaching struggle on being told that it was Harold himself.- For just before, the northern chief, conspicuous from his costume, and a man whose high stature raised him above all men near him, had not kept his seat, as it was manifest Harold could. Through a false step of his horse, he had been thrown to the ground. Harold saw the accident, and. when told that the chief who had fallen was his great rival Hardrada of Norway, he turned to his fohdwersy and said, ' a most stately person, truly ; but, you see, ' my friends, his luck is already gone from him.' And now the work of death began. Battle of The Norwegian infantry were formed into a hollow Bridge!"1 circle. Their shields were linked together, so as to present a tortoise line of defence. Their spears were planted in the ground before them, and pointed breast- high towards the enemy, to check the onset of cavahy. The light archers were so placed as to gall the foe wherever the pressure should become most dangerous. So long as the Northmen preserved their solid line, and kept their spears in position, neither infantry nor cavalry made much impression on them. The Saxons seemed to grow weary in their repeated attacks with- THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 303 out result. Whereupon the Norwegians grew more book ur. bold. Men here and there began to rush forward Chap' '' from the ranks. This brought on the crisis. The Saxons seized the favourable moment, broke the line of the enemy, and sent disorder and death wherever they came. In vain did the strong arm of Hardrada deal destruction on many a foeman. His foUowers were losing ground, when an arrow entered his neck, and he fell to the earth to expire. Victory now seemed to declare for the Saxon. But suddenly a large body of Norwegians, who had been hastening to the field from a distance, made their appearance. Harold and his men had now to begin their work anew. But they were stiU strong in hand and heart. Tostig refused aU terms. He feU, as Hardrada had faUen, doing ah that valour could do to turn the tide of the conflict against his assailants. One strong Norwegian kept the narrow pass of the bridge over the Derwent against aU comers, kdling, it is said, some forty assailants with his own hand. He was only vanquished when his enemies contrived to assail him in front and rear. So ended one of the most stubborn and destructive battles in English history. The vic tory of the Wessex men was complete.* Men of after generations saw the bones of the slain bleaching on the surface of that field. But no trace of the past is now to be seen there. The green meadow-slopes drop gently and gracefully, from oppo site lines, towards the waters of the Derwent. The barge floats safely along in the course of a canal not far from the river-side. The quiet vUlage street, and scattered viUage homes, may now be seen there on either hand. The bridge where the strong Norwegian kept his o^11 so long, has been displaced by one on which his task would have been more difficult, and one beside which there now rises a lofty viaduct, along * Chron. Sax. Fl. Wigorn. Marian. Scot. Ordericus. Adam. Brem. lib. i. E. Higden. Snorre, cc. 86-93. 304 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. which, as we remember, the rush of modern travel _'' disturbed our imagination as it seemed to be bringing back to us the rush of the ancient battle. Harold's The battle of Stamford Bridge was fought on the sources. ' 36th of September. It was, as we have seen, on the morning of the 28th, that the strange sad made its ap pearance not far from Hastings, which proved to be the herald of the great, Norman armament. The news of the landing of the Normans was conveyed to Harold in great haste, while resting with his army in York. Now the crisis had. come. How was it to be met? Northumbria, so far from rendering help, required .the presence of a considerable force to ensure tranquUlity. Mercia, represented by the brothers-in-law of Harold,. the earls Edwin and Morcar, was cold in his behalf, and could hardly, perhaps, have been brought into the field with much effect so soon after the disastrous battle of Fulford. The Danes, forming so large a portion of the population, both in Northumbria and Mercia, were openly indifferent to the pending struggle ; or, if in clined either way, were with the Normans rather than with the Saxons. We see the fruit of this Danish policy in the special favour so often shown to that people by the Normans in after time. Harold, accordingly, was obliged to rest almost wholly on the pure Saxon ele ment of the south. Hence the force which he was able to bring together was hardly superior «to the in vaders in regard to numbers, and much inferior to them in regard to military experience and equipment. Not a few of his followers consisted of patriotic men who volunteered their services almost unarmed, having no better weapons to use than a club or a fork, a pike or a sling. In the Norman army the proportion of cavalry was enormous, such as should in itself have sufficed for the conquest of almost any kingdom in Europe. But in this respect the army under Harold was weak, as all Anglo-Saxon armies had hitherto been. wiiiiam's William tried the effect of negotiation before appeal- proposals. ° rr THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 305 ing to the sword. He was willing, he said, to cede to book iii. Harold the whole of England north of the Humber ; CaAP '' and to his brother Gryrth, all the lands that had been in possession of the late earl Grodwin ; or he would leave the issue to a single combat, to the judgment of the pope, or even to a decision on the basis of Norman or Enghsh law. But Harold appears to have seen, that in the posture to which affairs had come, the only choice left to England, was either to free itself of the Normans, or to become their victim. The hollowness of the fairest of these promises, if accepted, would soon become manifest. The strong, obtaining a footing at all, would be sure to crush the weak, on the first con venient occasion. Hence the reply of Harold ^o these proposals was, Harold's that he possessed the crown of England according to reply- the wiU of the late king, and according to the suffrage of the nobles and people of the land. On these grounds he demanded that the duke and his foUowers should at once depart from the kingdom. That Harold declined the challenge to single combat because he remembered his broken vow, and that his own brother Gyrth urged, for that reason, that he should not oppose himself to WiUiam even in the field, are only portions of the Norman tale on this subject. No native authority makes any such report, though the king had his enemies even among the Saxons. During the first fortnight after leaving their ships, the Normans ravaged the lands of Sussex and the neighbourhood — lands of which the Grodwin family were, for the most part, the. owners. Harold hastened his measures, and joined the army at Hastings on the evening of the 13th of October. Not much more than half the force known to be at his disposal had assembled; and a body of Danish auxiliaries, sent to his assistance by the Danish king Svend, had imbibed the feeling of their race in England, and refused to fight against the duke. Harold had hoped to surprise the Normans by an attack on their camp in the fol- 1 x 306 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. lowing night. But William heard at once of his J11U- arrival, and knew that the advantage of delay would be wholly on the side of the English. Every hour would add to their numbers, and would add to the difficulty of providing for the wants of his own army, without bringing him the least additional support. He decided, accordingly ; that the foemen should meet on the foUowing day. During that night the Norman ecclesiastics admi nistered the offices of religion tp such as were disposed to attend to them. The duke partook of the eucharist. The Saxon camp, we are told — how truly we know not — presented a different scene. The night was there spent, it is said, in feasting and carousing. We know that among the followers of Harold were those who had been accustomed to camp life. They had many of them been engaged in hot wars with the Welsh ; and at Stamford Bridge they had just tried their metal successfuUy against the bravest that the old home of these Normans could send against them. Harold and his army should, perhaps, have been less self-reliant. Certainly an undue fear of then enemies cannot be laid to their charge ; and those enemies weU knew, that the event only could declare what the result of meet ing this new enemy would be. The battu At length came the morning light of that memo- of Hastmga- rable day — the 14th of October, 1066. WiUiam ad dressed his chiefs in terms intended to satisfy them in regard to the justice of their cause, and to assure them of its success. While thus employed, a messen ger, whose horse and person were covered with armour, rode up to say the time had come to arm. In placing his coat of mad over his head, the duke happened to turn the hind part before. He saw that the awkward incident was observed, and, to prevent unfavourable impressions, he said that so it had been with his for tune, the right thing came last, he had been duke, he should soon be king. William arranged his army in three divisions. The THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 307 third division he commanded himself, and there his book in. own banner waved. Concerning the manner in which ,i*AP'-]' the Saxons acquitted themselves on that day we know little or nothing from the Saxons themselves. The version of the conflict which has its place in all our histories, is whoUy the Anglo-Norman version. Never theless, even through these sources, enough becomes known to make it evident that the countrymen of Alfred were not wanting in prowess on the field of Hastings, or in the strength which can endure as well as dare. The position chosen by Harold was on a moderately rising ground, for strictly speaking there are no hiUs near. His army was drawn out in a wedge form, with compact lines, protected by a waU of shields, and by strong palisading. The men of London, according to ancient usage, formed the guard of the king, and bore his standard. The men of Kent, on the same ground, claimed to be placed in front, and to strike the first blow. As the Normans advanced, Harold saw, from their equipment, their numbers, and the large proportion of cavalry, that treacherous reports had led him to under rate the strength of his enemies. But the usual war cries rose fearlessly, from Norman and Saxon alike, as the former commenced the onslaught. The great military bard TaiUefer had prayed that he might be aUowed to strike down the first Englishman. Bush ing in advance, he. accomplished his object. But the Saxons were instantly upon him, and the bold minstrel was the next among the slain. This daring adventure had inspirited the Normans. But it avaUed not. The hne of the Saxons was not to be broken. Their steady pressure sent disorder among the Norman infantry, and, at the same time, a portion of the Nor man cavalry feU into a concealed trench. The chiefs among the invaders became alarmed. Many of them evinced the utmost bravery. No man was more con spicuous in urging the wavering to firmness than Odo, the martial bishop of Bayeux, brother to the duke. x 2 308 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book ni. But the confusion continued to increase. First the -nAP' '' left wing, composed of Bretons and mercenaries, fled. Next the third division, where the duke commanded, and where his banner was visible, was seen in retreat. Gyrth sent his spear through the horse on which Wil ham rode. Another was seized from the nearest knight. But so thick were the death strokes near the person of the duke, that a second horse, and a third, feU under him. In the last instance, the commander owed his rescue to the timely aid of the count Eustace. The flying men gave out that the duke had fallen, and that aU was lost. But William flew to the quarter of the panic, removed his helmet from his head, and caUed loudly on the fugitives to rally," and to save themselves by brave deeds from an ignominious destruction. This appeal was not in vain, and was most seasonable ; for by this time a large body of the Normans found themselves in the rear of an. advanced body of the English, and added a vigorous onset from that quarter, to the resistance presented by the duke in front. Of this division of the English, assailed thus from aU sides, very few escaped. The Normans now renewed then attack on the main body. But the Saxon lines seemed invincible. At nine o'clock the signal for battle had been given. Through six hours this death- strife had been protracted, and there was no sign of victory on either side. The duke now remembered the success of an early hour of the day, when chance drew some of the Saxons from their position. He resolved to attempt doing by stratagem, what had then been done without forecast. He arranged for the apparent flight of a large division. The unsuspecting Saxons rushed on the rear of their enemies, heaping taunt and sarcasm upon them with every blow. But presently the duke gave the signal to halt, and to form the hnes. The Saxons now saw then error. The fate which had befallen the advanced division in the morning, now befel a much larger number in the evening. The THE NORMANS IN NORMANDY. 309 loss thus sustained by the English was great — irre- book th. Chap i trievable; but neither party would seem to have seen _' it to be so. Many extraordinary deeds were done by heroic Saxons when this dark hour of the day had come. But no names are mentioned. That honour was reserved by the Anglo-Norman writers for the distinguished men of their own race. WUliam, it is said, had eagerly sought for Harold, and once fell on a bold Saxon thane, supposing he had found him. The thane beat in the helmet of his assadant, and would have changed the future of English history, had not the attendants of the commander come to his deliverance. Thus did hope and fear rock against each other through that live-long day. Even as the sun is going down, a body of cavaliers, with the brave count Eustace at their head, are seen flying in the direction of the royal standard; and as the count bends towards the ear of the duke in passing, to say in a subdued voice, that retreat is unavoidable, the blow from a pursuing Saxon faUs between his shoulders, sends the blood from his mouth and nostrils, and he sinks to the ground. It was this count Eustace who had saved the life of the duke in the morn ing. But to WUliam, retreat was worse than death. He looked to the point where Harold's standard was yet seen, surrounded by the flower of his army. Were there no Normans left who could rush in there, and seize that ensign ? Some twenty men of rank volun teered to lead the way thither. The greater part of them perished. But their work was done. The archers had raised then bows higher than before. The fatal arrow pierced the eye of the king. His two faithful brothers, Gyrth and Leofwin, fell by his side. Soon only the dead or dying of king Harold's army were on the plain. As the darkness came once more to the quiet earth, it feU on thane and peasant, on ecclesias tics and nobles, thickly strewed together. But they had done then best in defence of their own homeland. 310 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book m. Among the armed combatants who there feU, were an fUl!' Enghsh abbot and eleven of his monks. England is not to have another Saxon king — is never to see another Saxon army.* * Guil. Pictav. W. Malms. H. Huntingdon. Ordericus. Fl. Wigorn. Boman de Bou. Chron. Sax. These autborities are not all agreed in tbeir descriptions of this memorable battle. Tbe account in the text may, we think, be accepted as correct. ' How great, think you, must have been the slaughter of the conquered, when tbat of the con querors- is reported, upon the lowest estimate, to have exceeded ten thousand? Oh, how vast a flood of human gore was poured out in that place where these unfortunates fell and were slain ! What- dashing to pieces of arms, what shrieks of dying men ! In the contemplation of it our pen fails us.' — Chronicle of Battle Abbey, translated by Marc Antony Lower, A.M. Ordericus makes the Norman loss 1 3,000. CHAPTEE II. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO PROPERTY. WILLIAM paused awhUe after the victory at book hi. Hastings, expecting some signs of submission JL?fl!' from the people. But the signs came not. He then lt"oa ravaged several counties, and was afterwards laid up English. with sickness during some weeks near Canterbury. The English made no use of this occasion. It- only served to show that the leadership necessary to any formidable resistance had ceased to exist. The Con queror next took up his position at Berkhamstead, for the purpose of intercepting any communication that might be attempted between the north and south. At that place young Edgar, grandson of the Ironside, and heir, as we have seen, to the English throne, pre sented his submission. Stigand, archbishop of Can terbury, Eldred, archbishop of York, with many Other persons of rank, foUowed this example. ' The Londoners had proclaimed and crowned Edgar as king ; but, deserted and alone, they felt that resist ance would be worse than useless. The followers of the Conqueror now became impa- coronation tient to see the English crown placed upon his brow, queror. °n It was determined, accordingly, that the ceremony of his coronation should take place at Christmas. On that occasion the abbey church of Westminster was decorated as when the sovereigns of England were wont to be greeted there by the loyal acclamations of the ' best ' of the land. WUham knew that his own ear was not to be thus greeted. Triple lines of soldiers fenced off the road between his camp, and the minster. AU the avenues immediately about the edifice were 312 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. guarded by cavahy. In the train of the duke followed HAP' f two hundred and sixty Norman chiefs. When Eldred, archbishop of York, put the question to those chiefs, and to the few Saxons present : ' Will ye have WUliam ' duke of Normandy for your king ?' the shout of the Normans was so loud, that the horsemen in the street suspecting, or pretending to suspect, some treason, began to set fire to the neighbouring houses. The parties within the church, becoming in their turn alarmed, rushed nearly aU into the open air. But a few trembling ecclesiastics remained, and received from the hps of the scarcely less trembling king, the pledge that he would govern the English people according to their own laws, and in aU things as justly and humanely as the best of their kings had governed them.* William's WUliam did not affect to take possession of the oSm t0°the crown of England by the right of conquest. He throne. claimed to be accepted as king in virtue of his rela tionship to Edward the Confessor, and according to the alleged will of that monarch. This pretension may have been invalid — absurd ; but, nevertheless, it was on this pretension that WiUiam professed to ground his right, and not on the sword. In consonance with this policy, he came, according to his own lan guage, not to subvert, but to uphold the existing laws, It is true his claim had been resisted, and there were grave penalties awaiting those who had made that resistance. But William professed to distinguish between those who had taken part with the late usurper, and the nation at large, which, as he pre tended, had not been a party to that proceeding. Measures were soon taken to secure the names of all persons who had fought against him, or who had in any way aided or encouraged those who had so done.f And we know that the persons who might be compre- * Ordericus, lib. iv. c. i. Malms, lib. iii. Guil. Pictav. 20j, 206. Eadmer, 6. Brompton, 961. Guil. Newburg. 3. f Guil. Pictav. Madox's History of the Exchequer, folio. Dialogus de Scaccario, Hale's History of the Common Law, chap, v. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO PROPERTY. 313 hended under the one or the other of these descrip- book hi. tions, would include nearly the whole nation. StUl, a ^ILf ' distinction was made, between those who "had shown disaffection, and those who had not ; and in affecting to restrict his penalties to the former class, WUliam claimed the credit of doing only as any lawful sove reign would have done in the same circumstances. But it soon became manifest that the victory at Dispiace- Hastings had not subdued disaffection. New hostili- gaxons. ties not only prepared the way for new confiscations, but furnished pretexts for a more rigorous applica tion of the general law of retribution. Bapacity, and the love of power, so conspicuous both in the king and his foUowers, disposed them, as such events arose, to look on the country more and more as a conquered country, to be dealt with at their pleasure. WiUiam, indeed, never ceased to speak of his office as king of England as his by right and inheritance ; and this idea continued to the last to influence many of his proceed ings. But when his passions were roused, or his fol lowers become clamorous, his schemes of spoliation expanded, so as to evince little respect for law or custom. The Danes, as they had not joined the struggle between the Saxon and the Norman, were allowed generaUy to retain their possessions. But in less than twenty years, the Saxon landlord was dis placed, over the greater part of the kingdom, by the Norman. Norman castles made their appearance in aU parts of the country, and the strangers by whom they were garrisoned, became known among the na tives by the name of the ' castle-men.' In carrying out this great scheme of plunder in our history, the king himself set a fruitful example. He claimed, not only all the lands, but aU the treasure and moveables of the former kings of England. He descended so far as to enrich himself by robbing , churches of their ornaments, and by appropriating articles of rarity and value from the shops of trades men. From the accumulations thus made, William 314 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. BOOK III Chap. z. Distribution of manors. sent costly presents to the pope, in return for his blessing. Similar acknowledgments were made to churches in Normandy, where many prayers had been offered for the success of his enterprise. What the king did in London, the barons, and many inferior men, did in many towns and cities.* The word manor is of Norman origin, and seems to have been used to denote a considerable estate, with a house or mansion upon it as the residence of its owner. The crown lands recorded in the Domesday Book in clude more than 1400 manors, besides other properties not fuUy described. The earl of Moretaine, the Con queror's half-brother, became possessed of nearly 800 manors, spread over nineteen counties. The earl of Bretagne, who commanded the rear in the battle of Hastings, had 443. Odo, bishop of Bayeux, brother to WiUiam, had 439, which gave him authority in seventeen counties. The bishop of Coutance, who, in common with Odo, was also a soldier, had 380, Eoger de Bresli had 174 in Nottinghamshire. Ilbert de Laci had 164, chiefly in Yorkshire. WiUiam Perceval, the Conqueror's natural son, had 16a. Eobert de Sanford, 150. Eoger de Laci, 116. Hugh de Mont fort, more than 100. William de Warren had terri torial aUotments in Sussex, and in eleven other English counties.f These instances are enough to suggest what the scheme of distribution was which took place imme diately after the Conquest. The lands seized by Wil- * Chron. Sax. 1066-1070. Simeon Dunelm. 200. Mat. West, Eoger Wendov. f Ellis's Introduction, to Domesday, lxxii. Brady's Introduction, 13. Hutchins's Dissert, on Domesday Book, 11, 27, 49, 118. It is due to the Conqueror to state, that he evidently had not in all cases power to restrain his followers from the work of destruction and pillage on which they were bent. It appears, also, from Domesday, that some men seized upon estates without his authority, and held them- by no other title than their own will. These lauds are described in the record as invasiones — denoting that they had been seized, and were retained, as above stated. — Ellis's Introduction, x. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO PROPERTY. 315 liam were either crown lands, or those which had been book hi. in the possession of the most considerable families, HAP' *'. such as the Godwins, and the Alfgars of Mercia. From the other parts of the country, his followers received such aUotments as were deemed appropriate to their rank, or to their past services.* When Exeter was taken — for that city had dared g™^ to resist the Conqueror after the battle of Hastings — an incident occurred which showed how much caprice and passion had to do with these proceedings. Brihtric, a rich Saxon of Devonshire, had been ambassador from king Edward to the count of Flan ders. Matilda, then the unmarried daughter of the count of Flanders, now the queen of England, had cherished a passion for the Englishman, to which the latter, it is said, made no response. On the fall of Exeter, the time came for a distribution of estates in Devonshire, and for Matilda to be avenged on Brihtric. He was seized by Normans whUe engaged in the con secration of a chapel on his own manor of Hanley, and thrust into prison at Winchester, where he died. The person of the dehnquent being thus disposed of, the queen shared considerably in his estates. f Selden and Judge Hale affirm'that no Englishman g^ion °? was deprived of his possessions by the Conqueror Haie. simply on the ground of his being an Englishman. % This may be true ; but what was the nature of the pre texts which too often served as a covering for such proceedings on the part of the king himself, and, still * * Thus strangers were enriched with England's wealth, while ber sons were iniquitously slain, or sent into hopeless exile into foreign lands. It is stated that the king himself received daily 1060I. 2s. 6§<2. sterling money from the regular revenues in England alone, independently, of presents, fines for offences, and many other matters which come into a royal treasury.' — Ordericus, bk. iv. c. 7. William added greatly to the sufferings. of his tenants by farming his estates to the highest bidders. — Guil. Pictav. 208. Chron. Sax. Ordericus, iv. 7. t Ellis's Introd. ii. 34. Thierry, bk. i. 353. Lappenberg's England under the Normans, 122, 123. J Selden, Notes Eadmer. Hale's Hist. Common Law, c. v. 316 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. more, on the part of his followers? The church and — _' abbey lands were generally undisturbed; and for a while a few distinguished Saxons, of both sexes, were allowed to retain possession of estates. But Eadric the Forester, who disputed the Norman sway in Here fordshire, and along the Welsh border, seems to have been the only Saxon who, having taken arms against the invaders, was found in possession of his lands twenty years after the Conquest.* And from that time we discover no trace of men of wealth or position among the natives. In general, the English became tenants where they had been landlords; and the humbler classes passed, with the estates on which they had long dwelt, into the hands ofthe new masters. No thanks to the Normans if the Enghsh were gene rally accepted as labourers and as tenants, and even on reasonable conditions. The land was of small value except on such terms. Domesday Booh shows that the men who cultivated and occupied the land after the Conquest, were much the same as before that even Feudal With this great change, in regard to the possessors of property, came another regarding the tenures on which property should be held. Some learned men account feudal tenures as not older inEngland than the Conquest. Others insist that they were familiar to the Anglo- Saxons ldng before. Both these opinions, though the contrary of each other, have then measure of truth. % It is certain that some of the elements of the feudal system were not unknown among the Saxons and the Danes in this country before the Conquest. § But it was left to the Conqueror to extend that system to the whole kingdom, and to establish it definitely, after the Continental model. Under WiUiam, all the holders of land in England, became either tenants to the crown, * Lappenberg, 117. t Ellis's Introd. cc. 11— 14. % Judge Hale is disposed to date feudal tenures in England from the Conquest. — Hist. Com. Law, c. v. But Coke, Selden, Nathaniel Bacon, Temple, Saltern, and the author of the Mirror date them much earlier. § See pp. 239-241. tenures. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO PROPERTY. 317 or subtenants to those who were such ; and the condi- book iii. tions of the holding — or the virtual rent to be paid — °HAP' 2" both by the tenant in chief, and by the subtenant, were the same. The lesser vassal owed to his lord, whatever his lord, as the greater vassal, owed to the king. In this manner, aU the lands of England were legaUy vested in the king, and the uses of them only pertained to the subject. What we have ventured to caU the virtual rent of Knight ser- the land was twofold. It consisted in what was loccag". known by the name of knight service and soccage. Knight service bound the tenant to supply the king with a certain military force when required. Soccage consisted in the obhgation to render other services, not military, to the landlord, such as ploughing his ground, or supplying his table, according to stipula tion. It is supposed that many ofthe serfs were allowed by the Normans to cultivate smaU portions of land, on certain conditions, and that this class rose by degrees, under the name of villeins, to have a perma nent and legal interest in their lands in the nature of copyhold. The religious houses were exempt from the obligation to knight service, on the ground that the owners of such lands were men occupied in reli gious duties, but in reality, we presume, on the ground that they were expected to keep large hospitality. England was thus covered with a great military Military network. The Normans became, what the English ^ew^0°! had never become, a compact organization, a potent mans in . 1 T /Y» till F.n Croy. 903. Fordun, iii. 510. Wendover, a.d. t Ordericus, lib. iv. c. 3, 4. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. 335 mans throughout aU England on a given day and book hi. hour. The secret is said to have transpired, as usual, "AP' ?' through the confessional. Many perished, but the leaders escaped. It may be that there was a Saxon conspiracy in 1127, but it appears to have been greatly magnified by the fears, or more probably by the policy, of the Normans.* The Saxon Chronicle, WiUiam of Malmesbury, and other writers, who were most likely to have recorded such an event, are silent concerning it. If there was anything approaching to a wide organization against the invaders at that time, it is to be marked as the only movement of that nature after the dispersion of the camp at Ely. Subsequently to that dispersion, the only form in which the Normans might apprehend danger, was when travelling alone, or in small companies, especially in the north of Eng land. When their path chanced to lie through the forest, along the unfrequented road, or across the marsh or the mountain, it became them to be watch ful. WUham had converted Yorkshire into a desert ; but in so doing he had done less to awaken loyalty, than to create a home for the outlaw. During two cen turies from that time, no Norman king ventured into those parts without the safeguard of an army. It was the natural effect of the Conquest, that men change m should learn to see the sphit of the patriot in the deeds oi\\w ms of such men. Life spent in watching to seize the per- fegartfto" sons and the substance of the castle-men as a prey, law and came to be regarded as brave and virtuous. The ment™" orders of the government were, that such bands should be hunted down as wolves. But multitudes who were themselves submissive, applauded in then heart the men who were bold enough to defy the oppressor. The law might denounce such men as robbers, mur derers, and traitors, but it availed nothing — the peo ple did. not speak of them in such terms. No ballads were so popular as those which described the feats of * Ordericus, 912. Thierry, bk. vii. 336 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. forest-men in capturing portly abbots and wealthy HAP" 3' prelates, bold knights and proud nobles, and as re plenishing then coffers by the ransom. In the popu lar feeling, high honour was awarded to the adven turous spirits who shared among them the spoils of the neighbouring baron without the leave of his re tainers, or fed on the king's venison in defiance of the king's laws. Bich was the glee with which they told ofthe merry freebooter, how he eluded the horsemen of the sheriff, wormed out his secret when most vain of his skill in concealing it, and caught him when least suspicious in his own snare. So it came to pass that men were accounted the purest lovers of their country who were the boldest in resisting its authori ties. When injustice comes into the place of justice, it is natural that the sense of duty should thus change. The first Norman king, as we all know, cleared the sod of Hampshire of its inhabitants over a space of thirty miles, to create his great deer forest ; and if he did not punish a violation of his forest laws with death, it was from no feeling of humanity, but because he accounted the loss of eyes or limbs a more protracted, admonitory, and terrible punishment than hanging. The wild king, says the old chronicler, loved wUd beasts as though he had been the father of them.* The successors of Hereward in East Anglia and beyond the Humber, were never men in a condition to be allowed to hope that it would ever be in their power to oppose any really formidable resistance to the rule of the Norman. They were simply men, for the most part, whom lawlessness had forced into lawlessness. But considerable bands of such men kept their footing in those districts for many genera tions. To rob the Normans was to spoil the Egyp tians, nothing more.f * Wendov. ad an. 1086. f The forests in the province of York were the haunt of a nume- THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. 337 Nor were the western sides of the Yorkshire hills book iii. without the signs of such popular feeling any more JH_' than the eastern. Ballads have perpetuated the faun™bout- memory of Adam Bel, of Clym of the Clough (Cle- laws. ment of the VaUey), and of WiUiam Cloudesley, as men who in those parts became heroes, in the popular estimation, by becoming outlaws. These men were all natives of Cumberland. They had offended against the Norman chase laws. By so doing they had for feited the protection of aU law. Sharing in com mon in this aUeged crime, and in its consequences, they bound themselves to be one in all things. Thus solemnly pledged, they betook then^ to the forest of Inglewood, or English-wood, which lay between Pen rith and Carlisle. They baffled their persecutors, and made themselves formidable. In the view of the people, they were bold and generous men, prepared to brave aU things, so they might be free, leaving it to others to brave nothing, and to be slaves. Cloudesley had a wife and children in Carlisle. Bel and Clym had no such ties. After long absence, the married man spoke of longing for one more sight of those dear to him. His companions warned him of danger, but -without effect. Cloudesley finds his way into the city by night. An old woman, whom he had befriended in former days, detects him, and gives information against him. The outlaw, to the no small joy of the authorities, is torn from the arms of his wife and chUdren, and a new gallows is forth with reared in the market-place for his execution. But a swineherd boy, who had often seen the doomed man in Inglewood forest, and received kindness from rous band of this description, who had for their chief, or prince (as the original history expresses it), a man named Swan. In the central parts of the kingdom also, and near London, even under tbe walls of the Norman castles, various bodies of such men existed. They consisted (say the old writers) of men who, rejecting slavery to the last, made the desert their asylum. — Thierry, bk. v. Hist. Monas. Selebieasis apud Biblioth. Ldbbmi. 603. I Z 338 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. him, learns what is passing, and hastens to apprise chapj. Bel and Clym of what is about to happen. The two resolve that Cloudesley shall be saved, or the three will die together. They despatch the porter at the town gate, and by stratagem and courage, they so fall upon the authorities at the place of execution, as to rescue their brother, killing the judge, the sheriff, and many more. The poet recounts these death-blows in a spirit which shows that the people were expected to shout applause as they listened to the tale.* RoMn But the man who became the representative of this English feeling beyond all other men in those times, was the famous Bobin Hood. The history of this popular hero belongs to the close of the twelfth cen tury. Even in Yorkshire, we find some traces of him, in the places which bear the name of Eobin Hood's bay, and Eobin Hood's weU. But the forest of Sher wood, or sire-wode, which was his home, stretched in those days from the centre of Yorkshire to the town of Nottingham. Through more than a century, Sherwood forest was the great castle of the Saxon. There, at least, the Normans could be defied, and kept at bay. It is with that portion of this fastness which covered a large part of the midland counties, that the exploits of Eobin Hood are mostly associated. Discarding many contradictory accounts relating to his supposed origin and end, it is not to be doubted that this outlaw king attracted to himself some hun dreds of armed men, whose bows and swords made them the terror of all Norman officials in their neigh bourhood, whether in church or state ; that the indus trious, the widow, and the poor had never anything to fear from the approach of Eobin or his men ; that his heart was the stoutest heart of all his band, as his bow was the strongest and the truest bow ; that next to him came his man Little John, who is always at his side, be the face of fortune what it may ; that * Percy Belies, iii. Jamieson's Ancient Popular Songs. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. 339 with these two, honourable place was given to Mutch, book hi. the miller's son, to old Scathlocke, and to the militant °"AP' 3' Friar Tuck, with his terrible quarter-staff; that these merry woodsme'n never kUled, except in self-defence ; and that nothing was farther from their thoughts than making themselves rich — their one concern being to rectify some bad differences which had grown up of late, by taking from the oppressor and giving to the oppressed, and by moderating the excesses of the proud and the wealthy, in favour of the humble and the poor. Hence this robber king was, in his way, very rehgious — a Saturday spent in seizures on the highway, being followed by a Sunday spent with scrupulous devoutness at church. Eobin's hostilities were especially directed against the sheriff, or count, of Nottingham, in whom the military power of the district was vested. AU possible means were resorted to for the apprehension of this man. Many were his perils, but many were his escapes and deliverances. In aU his dangers warm hearts sympathized with him, and did what they could to serve him — in all his successes they shouted for joy.* When the day of Bobin Hood had passed, the His me- people instituted seasons of holiday to his memory. JSuoIhe6' For centuries, no occasion of popular pageantry and Ensliah- festival was so full of mirth, as that which com memorated the forest king, and the merry men who did his free and righteous bidding. The many asso ciations of ' Foresters' still existing among us, owe their origin to that inextinguishable feeling of Saxon nationality which prevailed thus under our earlier Norman kings. Even so late as the time of Chaucer, we find the story of Gamelyn, the ' Cook's Tale,' breathing the Bobin Hood spirit throughout. Its great feature is contempt of the law, and war with those who uphold and administer it ; and the reader * Jamieson's Popular Songs, ii. Percy's Belies of Ancient Poetry. Ellis's Metrical Bomances. z 2 340 ' NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. is expected to applaud the hero when he hangs the .HAP; 3" judge in the place of the alleged culprit. The ruling class is accounted alien, and right and humanity are supposed to be on the side of resistance. Even in the days of Henry VI. the name of the great 'north country' man, Eedesdale, is connected with the traces of this old English anti-Norman spirit, as still living beyond the Humber. Betrospect. "We see, then, that the effect of the Norman Con quest in relation to the Enghsh people was to deprive them of property and place — of possessions and of political existence. But the wrong and insult heaped upon them did not convert them all into wiUing slaves. Cast down, they were not destroyed. Nor was their spirit broken. We see this in part in the defiance of wrong by individual men, and by smaU bands of men, but much more in that wide and fervent sympathy which the career of such men is seen to call forth. That there were men in those days disposed to resort to such modes of life, is not a fact of much historical significance — but that the character of the men in this case should be such as it is, and that the whole Saxon population should have become so outspoken in its admiration of them, these are facts which the historian who would write an intelligible history of England must not overlook. The Anglo-Saxons, rude and warlike as they may have been, had much to do, or supposed they had, both with the making and with the administration of their laws, and were always dis tinguished by their respect for law. It is not untU the Norman lawlessness comes in, that some of them are content to become outlaws, and that the popular feehng comes to be everywhere in favour of such men. How this feeling came to make its way, ere long, from the lower stratum of society to the higher, wiU be matter for inquiry elsewhere. In this place, the reader has to look on the country we call England as the home of two races, distinct from each other, and antagonistic to each other. The Normans consist of THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. 341 nobles and knights, with followers and fair dames, book hi. They have their homes in castles fenced about with Chap" 3" moats and bridges. The battlements and turrets of those structures, and the proud standards which float above .them, are seen rising over the forest trees in the distant valley, or along the mountain side. Within those frowning walls, such briUiancy as the wealth of those days could command gradually makes its appear ance — decorated halls, gay minstrels, the banquet and the tournament. The language spoken is French, the taste and manners are French, the whole pageant is from another land — it is not the birth of this land. Its outward form, its inner hfe, are foreign. To find the old language, the old blood, the old thought and feeling and usage of the land, you have to leave the Norman castle, and to descend to the. town dweUing, or to the country homestead of the Saxon. Some few of those homes, in borough, town, or upland district, may bespeak, moderate comfort, and may seem to say that there will be wealth there some day. More, are of a humbler sort, where aU within is only too much like what is seen without. But at those fire sides the talk is often of the days when the speech of the Saxon was that of the hall of the noble, and of the palace of the king-^-o'f the time when the men who governed Englishmen were of their own true kindred, and when their common blood did much to dictate kindly offices between the ruling and the ruled. Every new injury brings back the memory or the tradition of those old days, and prompts the oppressed to heap his malediction on the iron cruelty of the oppressor, or, it may be, to think of the brave Alfred, and of the good king Edward, and to pray for deli verance. Nor did such men pray in vain. How soon our Anglo-Norman kings began to bis* of strengthen their position by granting special charters to English towns, is a somewhat obscure question. The kings of France and of Scotland began to act on this policy early in the eleventh century ; and when 342 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. Glanvil wrote, which was under Henry. II. , the liber- — !_' ties of the free boroughs in England were such, that if a bondsman sought a home in one of them, and continued unclaimed for a day and a year, he became free. In the Anglo-Saxon times, the business of the tradesman and merchant was subject to many vexa tious regulations. The freedom of the free boroughs after the Conquest, consisted in liberty to buy and sell free from such impediments ; in the exemption of traders as such from certain toUs and exactions; in the right of the townspeople to choose their own officers, to regulate their own local affairs, and to possess their own keys ; and in the subjection of the place to the crown, to the exclusion of all interference from the feudal lords of the district. In the trans actions between the barons and prelates, and John, earl of Moreton, afterwards king John, on the one side, and the citizens of London on the other side, relating to the deposition of Hubert the Justiciar, the nego tiations are clearly as between two distinct and in dependent powers, and the course to be taken is upon grounds mutually determined. Towards such a course the affairs of towns had long been tending through the kingdom at large. In the leading towns, the different trades and ' mysteries' were formed into guilds, which were all of them the objects of special protection and privilege. The revenue and the power of our kings were greatly augmented from these sources. Among the commodities fairly purchased by these ancient burgesses were their hberties — a com modity not to be taken from them.* * Brady On Boroughs. Bolls and Becords, Introd. § xxxi. The municipal history of France, and of the south of Europe, diifers considerably from our own. In those countries the old Eoman cities were more or less perpetuated through all the changes which came with the fall of the empire. It was not so with us. See Thierry's Tiers Etat and his Essays. THE CONQUEST ifc ITS RELATION TO THE PEOPLE. 313 Lord Macaulay's brilliant eulogy on the character of the Normans BOOK ill. is an extraordinary piece of composition in more respects than one. In Chap. 3. regard to military discipline and efficiency, and the qualities which that efficiency may be supposed to imply, the Normans were, at the time of the Conquest, very much as his lordship has described them. But, among the many other points embraced in his lordship's description, there is hardly one to which strong exception may not be taken. It is, in fact, a descrip tion, for the most part, that does not apply to the Normans in Normandy at all, nor to the Normans in England until we descend to the third or fourth generation after the Conquest, and only partially even then. How the Normans came to be tbe men they were when they had been thus long naturalized in England, and not before, is a question of some interest, and not to be readily answered. Describing the Normans before the Conquest, Lord Macaulay says, they found the language of Normandy ' a barbarous jargon ; they fixed it in writing; and they employed it in legislation, in poetry, and romanee.' (Hist. i. p. ti.) It is a feet, however, that we have no collection of laws; no national historic work, no poem, no essays, not even a volume of ser mons, by any native of Normandy from the time before the Conquest, tq lend support to this representation. (Lappenberg, England under the Normans. William I.) The few names of cultivated men which belong to the history of Normandy in the latter half of the eleventh century, are the names of Italians or Frenchmen, they are not the names of Normans. Our earliest written authority in relation to the laws of Normandy, does not go further back than the time of Henry II. (Coutumier of Nor mandy) ; and the compiles of that work thinks it probable that, in the history of jurisprudence to that time, the influence of Normandy on Eng land had been less, than the influence of England on Normandy. Judge Hale is strongly of this opinion (Hist. Com. Law, cc. vi. vii.), and the opinion becomes highly probable, from the much older civilization, and the greater wealth, of the conquered country. The literature of ' romance,1 in the history of the Normans, of which we have any knowledge, is not older than the latter half of tbe twelfth century, and was not only the' work of Normans in England long after the Conquest, but consists of little else than a metrical rendering from English tales and ballads, or from the Latin prose of our own Geoffrey of Monmouth. The earliest. known use of Norman-Prench in authorship does not occur until at least half a century after the settlement of the Normans in this country, and of that instance we have only the tradition, the work itself does not exist. — , Ellis's Metrical Bomances, Introd. § 1. Lord Macaulay further states, that such was the contempt with which the English were regarded by the Normans, that when Henry I. hoped to gain the affection of the natives by marrying an English princess, the marriage was regarded by ' many of the barons as a marriage between a white planter and a quadroon girl would now be regarded in Virginia' (i. 14). Is it not strange, then, that the. Norman writers should tell us that William himself, the master of all those barons, betrothed one of his daughters to that quadroon Hart>ld, son of earl Godwin, another to that 344 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. BOOK III. quadroon Edwin, son of earl Alfgar, and that he gave his niece Judith °HAr- 3- in marriage to that quadroon Waltheof, son of' earl Siward. Did the taint run in the blood of the one sex and not in the other ? It would hardly seem to be so, for a sister of this quadroon princess became the wife of one of these haughty barons; and marriages between the two races were only too common for the happiness of Anglo-Saxon females of good family whose lot was cast in those evil times. In more than one instance, a Norman princess was not .thought to be degraded by being- given in marriage even to a Welshman. — Ellis's Metric. Bom. Introd. § 3. That the Norman barons were often disposed to indulge in a tone of military insolence towards the English, and that there were men in the herd of adventurers who followed them, ready to copy their example in this particular, may be true enough. But it does not follow from such facts that the Anglo-Saxons, while inferior to their oppressors in military skill, were not their superiors in much beside. The Normans, we have reason to believe, retained much of tbe hard physiognomy which they had derived from their coarse Norwegian stock ; and much in their manners which had come from the same source ; while the better class of Anglo-Saxons, of both sexes, are known to have been remarkable for their personal beauty, and also, it would seem, for a mildness, and a compara tive refinement of manner, of which we trace small evidence among the invaders who fought at Hastings. In legislation, in the useful arts, in the arts which contribute to- the embellishment of life, in learning, and in morals and piety, the Anglo-Saxons had made no mean progress while the Normans were still mere freebooters, and a progress which the Nor mans of the eleventh century had but very partially reached. * William,' says an authority before cited, ' celebrated the Easter festival (March, 1067) at Fecamp, whither many French princes and nobles were at tracted, in honour of their former equal, now by craft and the fortune of war exalted high above them. Great was the wonder manifested by all on beholding the young Anglo-Saxons, with their long flowing locks, whose almost feminine beauty excited the envy of the comeliest among the youth of France. Nor was their admiration less on seeing the garments of the king and his attendants, interwoven and encrusted with gold, causing all they had previously seen to appear as mean ; also the almost numberless vessels of gold and silver of surpassing elegance : for in such cups only, or in horns of oxen, decorated at both extremities with the same metals, the numerous guests were served with drink. Overwhelmed with the sight of so much magnificence, the French returned home.' — Lappenberg's William I. William of Poitiers, secretary to the Conqueror, from whom the above description is taken, has added, ' the English women are eminently skilful with their needle, and in the weav ing of gold; the men in every kind of artificial workmanship' (p. 210). The Normans who invaded England were at the head of the military science of their age ; in scarcely anything else can they be said to bave been in advance of the English, in many things they were not on a level with them. Their valour stood them in good stead in Normandy, their learning and refinement are almost wholly of a date subsequent to their settlement in England, and the higher education which awaited in England made them Englishmen. CHAPTER IV. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. THE interval during which the great feature, in book hi. English history consists in the ascendency of the Chap' 4" Normans and the subjection of the Saxons, extends ^'(^5 from the Conquest to the age of the Great Charter, ter. The reigns included in this interval.are those of the Conqueror, William Eufus, Henry I., and Stephen ; also those of Henry II., and of his sons Richard and John. These reigns together cover a century and a half. The changes in respect to government intro duced immediately after the Conquest, and the gradual development of the new political feehng, and of the new principles of government, which ended in the great settlement at Runnymeade, constitute the subject to be treated in this chapter. Lawyers are accustomed to divide law into two Distinction departments — the not written, and the written. What ^^on is caUed common law, embraces all unwritten law, and fnd 8tatute law. much that has been written. Immemorial usage pos sesses the authority of law ; and law may be proved to be such by writings, as well as by other evidence, without becoming in the legal sense statute or written law. So httle care had been taken to preserve the laws which had been committed to writing before the accession of Richard I., that, in the legal sense, all law before that time is accounted as unwritten, and as being law only from old usage. Statute law rests on the statutes recorded and preserved from that time. All that is antecedent is common law. The common law of England at the time of the Conquest, was partly written and partly not written. The not written consisted in those old eustoms which 346 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. had survived aU record or compact relating to them. HAP" 4' The written consisted in those written laws of the different Anglo-Saxon states which had been more or less collected and digested by Alfred, and Edgar, and the Confessor. In this mixture of custom and record we find the common law — the law of the land to Englishmen, at the time of the Conquest ; and these are the laws intended by the Enghsh when they pray so earnestly that they may stiU be governed as in the days of the good king Edward. We have seen what these laws were. We have now to see how far they were perpetuated.* Feudalism The military organizations extended by the Nor- ' mans over the country they had conquered, was the first great feature of change. The great men became tenants to the crown. Lesser men became tenants to the greater. The demand made on every tenant by his landlord, whether in the person of the king or the baron, was a certain amount of military assistance, or else a rent to be paid in the shape of produce or per sonal service. The first form of tenure, as mentioned elsewhere, was designated mditary tenure. The second was known by the name of soccage. Feudal in- These feudal tenures brought with them feudal cidents. burdens which were occasional, in addition to those which were regular. On succeeding to an inheritance, a considerable fine was paid to the king, under the name of the relief. On such occasions the contribu tions of those who held by military tenure consisted of horses and warlike accoutrements. The soccage tenant forfeited a year's rent; the villein his best beast* Similar exactions were made, under the name of aids, when the king knighted his eldest, son, or gave his daughter in marriage. It was provided also, that the property of state offenders should escheat to the crown, and that the same should foUow on the faUure of * Hale's History of the Common Law. Blackstone's Commentaries, Introd. § 3. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 347 heirs. Trial by duel was hardly known among the book m. Anglo-Saxons. It became very common among the CHAP" 4" Anglo-Normans. With these novelties came a stricter enforcement of the laws of primogeniture, and a series of laws limiting the right of the parent to alienate his property, especiaUy his inherited property. But no feature of the new legislation was so repugnant to the feeling of the English as the forest laws. The chasing away of people by thousands from the soil, that their homes might be converted into forests for wild animals, was evil enough; but the punishments which followed the violation of those laws fiUed the cup of the popular indignation to the full. It is true the Conqueror was opposed to capital punishments, but it was, as we have said, simply because his mercdess nature regarded mutilation as hkely to prove a greater terror than the gaUows.* In a great meeting convened at Salisbury in 1086, Great Wilham required that all subtenants, no less than Salisbury. his great tenants, should be accounted as holding their lands from the crown. According to the Saxon Chronicle, this meeting embraced ' all the tenants of ' the land that were of consequence over aU England.' Another contemporary authority says, the persons assembled were not less than 60,000 — all, as the Saxon annahst writes, ' becoming the vassals of this man.'f This fact shows, beyond doubt, the great power re- *<» effects. tained by the Conqueror to the last year of his life. The tendency of this proceeding was to detract some what from the independence of the nobles, by diffusing a spirit of divided allegiance through all the sub- vassals of the king. Its effect, however, was not so much to augment the power of the crown, as to open the way to a gradual elevation of the people. Eor the right of direct interference on the part of the crown, in all the relations between landlord and * Blackstone, iv. bk. iv. c. 33. Keeves's Hist. Eng. Law, i. c. 2. f Chron. Sax. ad an. 1086. Ordericus. Madox, Hist. Excheq. c. i. 348 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. tenant, which was thus established, extended to - — '— county and borough; and in the contentions which frequently arose from this source between the king and his nobles, the people were generally the gainers. Two masters thus came into the field, and each often claimed allegiance on the ground of being the best. To the class of landholders whom we now designate the gentry, this arrangement was often advantageous. It gave them a right of appeal from local oppression, of which it would be in their power to avail them selves. conV/ror6 ^ie ^emPer an(^ the circumstances ofthe Conqueror gave their impress to his policy. His distrust of the English was the natural result of the course which he had taken towards them. He did enough to make confidence in him impossible, and then affected to complain of the want of confidence. It was not in his nature to choose a mild course for its own sake. His avarice and his ambition prompted him to rule with a strong hand. To gratify these passions he could descend to almost any depth in craft or crime. Erom these causes he has his place in the class of rulers whom history must describe as tyrannical, severe, cruel. His strength never came from the affection of those beneath him, but from a stern mas tery over their interests and their fears. When he promised at his coronation to rule the people of Eng land as the best of then kings had ruled them, it was to secure the appearance, as far as possible, of an English suffrage in connexion with that ceremony. When he pledged himself, in the most public and solemn manner, two years later, to uphold the laws of Edward the Confessor, it was with the hope of deter ring the southern English from taking part with the insurgents of the north.* In so far as those laws * Juravit super omnes reliquias Ecclesise Sti. Albani, tactisque sacro- sanctis evangeliis, bonas et approbatas antiquas regni leges — inviolabiliter observare.— Matt. Paris, Vit. Abbot. 30. . THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 349 might be observed consistently with his main purpose book hi. as a conqueror, he would probably observe them — but Chap' 4" assuredly no further. In the great meeting at Salis bury, the pledge to govern according to the good laws of Edward, and of his predecessors, was renewed.* It was not the wish of the Normans themselves Laws of that those laws should be wholly superseded. Even coS^— in the worst times, thev were upheld in their substance, fco^farper- . . .-, J -, .,i t • petuated especially m civU causes, and, with very limited ex- under the ception, in criminal causes. The feudal subordinations kings.an introduced by the Conquest, left the hundred courts, and the county courts, much as they had been ; and justice as between man and man, and offences against the pubhc peace, were dealt with, for the most part, as in past times. It was, in many respects, greatly to the advantage of the Normans that this course should be taken. An instance showing the value of these laws even to the conquerors we see in the use which they made of the Saxon hundred for the security of then own hves. When the natives could no longer resist their oppressors openly, they not unfre quently avenged themselves upon them by private onslaught. The result was a law which declared, that on the discovery of the body of a murdered man, if the deceased could not be proved to have been an Englishman, it should be presumed that he was a Norman, and the hundred in that case was required to bring the homicide to justice, or to pay his fine.f The laws administered in the local courts were cer tainly in substance the same, but the Saxon thanes and officials, as the administrators, had been displaced by the strangers. It was something, however, to * Madox's Exchequer, c. i. jj. t Wilkins, Leges Anglo- Saxonicae, 228 et seq. Hoveden, ad an. 1 180. In tbe reign of Eichard I. a hundred was fined on account of persons found in it who bad died from want, not from violence of any kind — a custom which seemed to embrace the principle of a poor-law. — Bolls and Becords, Introd. § xxi. 350 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. have so much of these ' wise customs' preserved. °AP" 4' The free spirit in which they had originated might some day return to them, develop, and mature them. But for the present, a Norman might kiU an Enghsh man with impunity, if he could only say that he thought him a rebel.* And whUe to the Saxon was ceded the doubtful privdege of clearing himself by ordeal, the Norman might clear himself by duel, or simply by his oath. About a century and a half subsequent to the Conquest, the church of Rome abohshed trial by ordeal, and in that act rendered service to humanity.-}- StUl the use of Erench in all the law courts, which continued to the time of Edward IIL, is of itself sufficient to indicate the inequality of the two races before the tribunals of the country. If we suppose this custom a necessity, the officials being aU Frenchmen, the disadvantage to the Enghsh was not the less on that account. Tnai by In one material respect the Anglo-Norman legisla- hlstor^. tion soon became an improvement on that of the Anglo-Saxons. Lawyers of great learning have been wont to speak of our trial by jury as an institution older than the Conquest. X But we have seen that men of learning who have traversed this ground more re cently, have made it appear, that trial by jury, in our sense, was not known in England earlier than the reign of Henry II. § We have seen, elsewhere, that what was often described as trial by jurors, under the Saxon kings, was in fact a trial by magistrates. || The jurors were witnesses. They did not deliver a joint verdict on the case : each juror gave his evidence, and the conjoint evidence so given, was intended to guide the functionary presiding in forming and pronouncing a judgment. The persons selected, accordingly, to serve on those juries, were always chosen on the * Decreta Prtesulum Normannorum. Wilkins, Concilia, 366. t Notce ad Eadmerum, edit. Selden, 204. X Coke ; Spelman ; Blackstone. § Palgrave, i. c. viii. || See pp. 264-267. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 351 ground of neighbourhood, or as being persons sup- book iii. posed to know most of the case. The jury so consti- Chap' 4' tuted, was not to include persons whose nearness of kin was likely to bias their depositions. For a lawful cause, also, any member of such a jury might be chal lenged, either by the accused or by the accuser. Even such an intervention of the principle of a jury, inas much as it made the evidence of guilt to depend gene rally on the unbiassed testimony of neighbours and equals, was a great protection to the subject. But much was gained when a jury was chosen from the ' country,' and empowered to judge concerning the evidence adduced, and to say gudty or not guilty. The decision of the case then virtually rested, not with the magistrate, but with good men from the locality, paneUed for the occasion, and dismissed when the occasion was over. Trial by a jury of witnesses had obtained in Normandy, as well as in England, before the Conquest ; but trial by jury, in the modern sense, dates from about the time when the church abohshed trial by ordeal. Before that time, indeed, individuals, as a matter of favour, and commonly of purchase, were aUowed to submit their cause to the judgment of twelve or twenty -four men from their neighbourhood, and so to be exempt from the decision of the magistrate. Such cases, however, were rare, and restricted, we may be assured, to Normans. But they involved a principle which was to become stable, and eminently fruitful. When trial by ordeal ceased, and some change became necessary, our lawyers might have faUen back upon the civil law, which would have left the judgment both of law and evidence wholly to the judge. But they took the onward course. They retained the usages which time and experience had sanctioned, and they changed jurors who could only give- evidence, into jurors who might dehver a verdict.* * Palgrave, ii. c. viii. It is important to mark, that this improved form of trial by jury was the growth of the Norman intellect in Eng- 352 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. How the office of jurors rose with the custom of taxation. It is important, however, to remember, that trial by jury, in this sense, was restricted to courts acting by the king's writ or commission, it did not extend to the hundred court, nor to the court-leet. In the latter courts, the jurors continued to be witnesses, and nothing more. We must not leave the question of trial by jurors without touching on one more significant fact relating to it. The design of the Conqueror in securing an land. It had no previous existence in Normandy. The same may be said of much beside in the history of Norman jurisprudence in this country. Selden, in his learned dissertation on Fleta, has shown that the Eoman law was the law of Britain while under the Eomans, and that Papinian, the prince of lawyers, as he was called, was for a time at the head of judicial affairs in this country. But with the departure of the Eomans the imperial law wholly disappears from our history, until we come to the age of Glanvil, Bracton, and Fleta, whose lives cover the reignsof Henry II. and Henry III. In the writings of these great authorities on English law, there are frequent citations from the civil law ; but these citations are never made as being in themselves law to the English. Tbey are adduced as corroborating English law where they happen to agree with it, or as giving the decisions of experience and reason on points for which our own law may not have made provision. The year 1 140 is mentioned as the time from which some attention began to be given to the study of Roman law in England ; and Eoger Vicarius, formerly abbot of Bee, so far distinguished himself as a teacher at Oxford on this subject, in 1149, that in 1 1 53 Stephen issued a prohibition against him. But the study was not suppressed by that means. Edward I., the great lawyer among our kings, availed himself of assistance from that source, but always in dependence on the sanction of our legislature. But from the accession of Edward III. the course, of our legislation is little influenced from that quarter. The feeling of the nation was always with the common law, and so much opposed to the use of the civil law, that it was kept within limits which were comparatively, if not altogether, harmless. Blackstone, indeed, complains heavily of the intricacies and refinements introduced by these Norman lawyers, ' to supersede tbe more homely, but more intelligible, maxims of distributive justice among the Saxons. And, to say the truth, these scholastic reformers have transmitted their dialect and finesse to posterity so interwoven in the body of our legal polity, that they cannot now be taken out without a, manifest injury to the sub stance.' — Commentaries, bk. iv. c. 33. See also Introd. § 3, and Hale's Common Law. We have four courts in which the canon or civil law is acknowledged, subject to various restrictions — the ecclesiastical courts, the military and admiralty courts, and the courts of the universities. — Selden's Dissertation* on Fleta. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 353 entry of all persons and properties in Domesday Booh, book iii. was to possess himself of the information necessary for Chap' 4" making his exactions, and exercising his arbitrary will, in a manner that should be scientific and certain. But this information could be obtained only by means of jurors'; and the jurors pannelled for this purpose in every locality, consisted of necessity, not of Normans only, nor chiefly, but mostly of the old inhabitants. The Saxon jurors in such cases included the yeoman, the burgess, and even the churl. The local evidence thus supplied furnished for that time a sufficient basis for local taxation. It is material to observe that the people of the district did in effect determine the liabilities of the district, and that the king tacitly consented to be bound by the evidence so obtained. As the jurors in this case formed a recognised corpo rate authority, there would be a tendency in every such. body to act, upon occasions, with a degree of indepen dence and spirit which individuals in such circum stances could rarely assume when acting separately. The record of Domesday Book made its report concern ing the persons and properties of the kingdom in 1085. But suppose a few years only to pass, and it is obvious that this record must cease to be a satisfactory guide to the rateable property of the country. To ascer tain the kind and degree of change that has taken place, new jurors must now be sworn, and new inquest made. But in this manner the precedent introduced by the Conqueror becomes a custom. It grows imper ceptibly to be a recognised principle, that, in a sense at least, the people must not be taxed without their consent — the liabilities of the district must be virtually fixed by the ' good men' of the district. The germ of the most liberal and healthy provision of Magna Charta, and of much more, lay in this usage. This good did the first WiUiam for our country, though his selfish and iron nature meant it not. This wholesome local custom had become general, Relations of before it became law that taUages should no longer pSiamLt. 1 A A 354 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. be levied without the consent of parliament. In fact, Chap' 4' the jury principle had never ceased to be a great educating principle among the English people. Its benefits were not restricted to the sifting of evidence injudicial cases. It trained the people to the discharge of political duties, and to the assertion of political rights ; and it taught even the proudest of our kings that there were points in political proceedings where popular feeling had raised a boundary, and set up an authority, which it might be dangerous to treat with disrespect.* Eufus— But this popular feeling was to seeth long in com- Ftepi^n.nd parative secrecy before rising to the surface of history. During the short reign of William Rufus, the arbi trary temper of the government, and the sufferings of the . Saxons, were even greater than under the Con queror. But Henry I. is described as ' the Lion of ' Justice.' And certainly, in checking the rapacity of the barons as he did, and in counterbalancing the in^ fluence of some of the more powerful among them by raising up many new men to the same rank, he gave evidence both of capacity and courage. His sway was that of comparative order. But the reign of Stephen, which foUowed, brings us to the lowest deep in poli* tical disorganization and popular suffering known to English history since the Conquest. The pious monk who fills up the page of the Saxon Chronicle at Peterborough, towards the close of this reign, is so appaUed by the retrospect of these intestine wars and miseries, that they become to him the tokens that Christ and his saints must have ceased to concern themselves longer with the interests of humanity, f * Palgrave, i. c. viii. t The tortures whicb the chronicler describes as' those inflicted on male and female by the plunderers on both sides, in, the. hope of extorting property from them, are so horrible, that we must hope they were in some degree mere rumours, exaggerated by the alarm of the times. But the following may be taken as history. ' I neither can nor may tell,' says the monk, ' all the wounds, nor all the pains, which they did to the THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 353 But on the accession of Henry II. a new complexion book iii. of affairs soon becomes visible. chapj.. The great instrument through which England was The king's governed, during this Norman period, was the king's oourt" councU. This council, however, bore only a limited resemblance to a Witanagemote. It was the manner of our Anglo-Norman kings to keep the great church festivals — Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide — in their different palaces, at Westminster, Winchester, Glouces ter, and elsewhere. The pomp of the court was then to be present. Our kings in those days attached great importance to such pageantries.* But many grave proceedings were associated with such occasions The king's court, as the centre of the opulence and splendour of the realm, was distinct from that court in its relation to government. AU persons belonging to the king's court for pur- Legislative poses of legislation and government were caUed to it thTking-s by special summons. These persons consisted ofoounoi1' barons only, who, as peers, possessed their rank in common. So convened, these nobles were supposed to represent the subjects of the realm generally, and wretched men of this land : and this lasted the nineteen years while Stephen was king, and always it was worse and worse. They laid con tributions on the towns every now and then, and called it tenserie ; and when the wretched men had nothing more to give, then tbey plundered and burnt all the towns : and you might easily go a whole day's journey and never find a man remaining in a town, nor the land tilled. Then was corn dear, and flesh, and cheese, and butter, for there was none in the land. Wretched men died of hunger; some went a-begging who formerly were rich men ; some fled out of the country. If two or three men came riding to a town, all the township fled on account of them : they thought they were robbers. The bishops and clergy constantly cursed them, but this was nothing to them ; for they were all accursed, and forsworn, and lost.' — a.d. 1137. * One who lived in the court of the Conqueror says-—' He was very dignified; each year he wore his crown thrice, as often as he was in England. On Easter he wore it at Winchester, on Whitsuntide at West minster, on Christmas at Gloucester ; and at these times there were with him all the powerful men from over all England; archbishops and diocesan bishops, abbots and earls, thanes and knights. — Chron. Sax. a.d. 1087. A A 2 356 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. the Anglo-Norman kings deemed it expedient to act, HAF" 4' in many respects, as by the voice of that assembly. The laws passed during this period, were the laws of the king, issued with the advice or consent of this council.* It is true, the subject was not always secured by this means against arbitrary measures on the part ofthe crown. StUl, the idea familiar to aU men came to be, that the valid form of law was that which gave it as the act of the king, with the concurrence of this great councU ; and that government according to such law, was the only just government. The laws of the Conqueror were issued in his own name and in the name of his council ; and the celebrated Charter attri buted to Henry I. states, that the king gives his sub jects the laws of Edward the Confessor, with the emen dations of his father, and that he does this with the consent of his barons. f The Saxons, we have seen, were earnest and constant in their call for the protection of these laws ; and before the close of the period now under review, many of the Normans had' learnt to join in the demand. The spirit of this demand in both cases,' was a deshe to be governed by such known laws and customs as should be a protection against caprice and injustice, whether coming from the hands of kings or magistrates. judicial Concerning the judicial power which belonged to the thTcouncii. council of barons, even under the Conqueror, we have some evidence in the proceedings reported as having taken place in the sixth year of that reign. In that year the king, with the advice of his assembled prelates and barons, put an end to the controversy which had grown up between the archbishops of York and Can terbury in regard to precedence. The decision was in favour of Canterbury. In that year also, the charge of treason was brought before this council against * Edinburgh Bev. xxxv. 1—43. Allen's Inquiry into the Growth of the Boyal Prerogative in England. t Madox, Hist. Excheq. c. i. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 357 earl Waltheof, and on the verdict there given by his book hi. peers the earl was beheaded. In the reign of Richard Chap' 4' the First we meet with a striking instance of the power in this form, which the Norman barons had learnt to regard as pertaining to them. The king, before going on his crusade, had appointed his chan cellor, WiUiam Longchamp, as justiciary, or vicar of the kingdom, conjointly with the bishop of Durham. But Longchamp assumed the whole function to him self. The barons took upon them to chastise the folly and insolence of this man, which they did by depriv ing him of his office and sending him into exile. This, though done professedly in the name of the king, was to go far towards asserting the responsibilities of the ministers of state to the country, and the consequent right of impeachment.* Bitter and protracted disputes arose during this period between the kings of England and the court of Rome. They were especially conspicuous in the long reigns of Henry I. and Henry II. In carrying on this warfare against the secular encroachments of the papacy, always urged by the ecclesiastical power, as usual, under spiritual pretences, both the kings above named, and especiaUy the latter, issued their many protests, not simply in their own name, but in the name of the great council of the nation. By this means the convening of this council came to be more frequent and regular. Its proceedings became more formal. Its authority was more generally acknow ledged. Its position in all respects became more in harmony with our idea of a representative body or parliament. The officer who presided in the king's court, in the absence of the king, was the Chief Justiciar. To that officer the guardianship of the realm was entrusted when the king was beyond sea. With the justiciar * Bolls and Becords of the Court before the King's Justiciars, i. Introduction. 358 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. were associated, as alike officers of the king's court, the flL!' Constable, the Mareschal, the Chamberlain, the Chan ceUor, and the Treasurer. The division of labour which these different titles imply, helped to bring about the division of the one original court into several. In brief, the four courts at Westminster were originaUy so many subdivisions of the king's court. These courts aU made their appearance towards the close of the period now under review. They came into exist ence by degrees, and appear to have been nearly coeval — lawyers have been willing to regard them as strictly so, that there might be no -dispute about precedence.* The king-s But the idea of the kingly office, strongly embodied the law. ° in the laws of the Anglo-Saxons, and in the Eng lish laws after the Conquest, is — that the king is the great administrator of law, the fountain of justice. His court, which, though central, moved from place to place, was designed to keep watch over all other courts j so that justice faUing anywhere, might, as a last resort, be always found there. Local courts resembled only so many local committees,, delegated by the king to administer his laws in his name. The same may be said even of the Court of Common Pleas, or of King's Bench, the Court of Exchequer, and the Court of Chancery, as they make their appearance in the manner above mentioned. The labour in all these courts was properly the king's labour, and those who serve there do so in his stead. Could the king do the whole, the legal conception of his position would say that he should do it. But that this work should have been done in great part from the first, and more and more afterwards, by delegation, has been a matter of necessity, and a benefit of incalculable amount to the subject. Our early Norman kings often judged , in person, both in civil and criminal causes. It was by so doing that the Conqueror, Henry the First, and Henry the Second, made themselves felt by their * Madox, c. ii. xix. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 359 judicial sagacity, no less than by their high station, book hi. The separation of the king's person from all part in cj^J" such proceedings, in the manner familiar to ourselves, is a point of civilization which it has required many centuries to develop. The idea that the king is in all places where the laws are administered, comes from the same source with the ideas that the king never dies, and that he can do no wrong. All these notions are well known to be fictions, but they are fictions which have their uses, and which have some foundation in truth. Such conceptions of the kingly office are purely of Roman origin. The Teutonic nations knew nothing of them. The canon law of the clergy took its form and spirit from the civil law of the empire, and churchmen were naturaUy concerned to uphold both. In this attempt, they were aided by the leading provincials, who, though vanquished by the barbarians, survived to exercise great influence over them. It was the policy of these parties to extend their conception of sovereignty as it had existed in the emperors, to the rude kings who had come into their place. It was for the bold and free co adjutors of those kings to see that these fine words should be little else than words — that kings who had become such by the swords of their foUowers, should not rule to then injury, nor without their influence. It was in this manner that monarchies, more or less mixed, were substituted all over Europe, in place of the purely despotic monarchy of the Roman empire. The poli tical history of the European nations, is the history of these opposite tendencies, which combine to present results that are nowhere exactly ahke, but which have something everywhere in common. For in European history, monarchies which are not in our sense con stitutional, are subject to checks in many forms, suffi cient to distinguish the prerogatives of modern kings from the absolute authority of the imperial masters of the Roman world. The idea of the king's ubiquity comes down to us with our most ancient laws ; and 360 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. BCH.fpIir' ^6 ^ea °^ ^e divine origin of his office, which the . — -' clergy have' professed to derive from Scripture, is almost as old. But the notions that the king never dies, and that he can do no wrong, were of much slower growth. The law of primogeniture was not enough to determine the succession to the throne, even among our Anglo-Norman sovereigns, still less among the Anglo-Saxons. Before it was ceded that the king could do no wrong, it was necessary that the right to impeach the ministers who might do wrong in his name should be acknowledged and settled ; and before it was admitted that the king could never die, it was imperative that such a fixed provision should be made against the accident of his incompetency, whether from tender years or other causes, as should assure the sub ject of the safety of the State on the demise of a sove reign. In the period under review, our constitutional •history was not so far advanced as to aUow ofthe ad mission of such abstractions as the basis of law. Even so late as the time of King John, the Saxonized citizens of London recognised no king untU John had been proclaimed by their mayor.* itinerant Our kings must often have entrusted the administra tion of justice to their justiciaries, and to officers much more subordinate, before the times of Henry the Second. But it is not until some while after the accession of that monarch that we find England divided into law circuits, and judges in eyre — that is, 'itinerant,' or travelling judges, appointed to hold their assizes in given places, and at given times, in those circuits. judges. * Allen's Inquiry. A king's death was the usual signal for a general disorganization of the community; and until another was established upon his throne, no protection could be found in the law. — Bolls and Becords, Introduction. When Henry III. was near death, tbe citizens of London had chosen one mayor, the magnates another ; and the citizens, with then- strong Anglo-Saxon notions concerning the interval between the death of a king and the proclamation of his successor as being an interval in which tbere was no king, waited for the death of Henry, with the intention of • rising at that moment against the aldermanic class.-— Ibid. § xlvii. element in govern- THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 361 The first division of the kingdom was into six circuits, book iii. Subsequently the six were reduced to four; the Chap' 4' country north of the Humber being one of the four. For that northern division six justices were appointed, and on account of distance, and stUl more on account of the condition of those . provinces, these northern functionaries were vested with special powers. This is one of the measures which have contributed to make the reign of Henry II. so memorable in our history.* But, important as these organizations must appear, Further under any view of them, the instructions given to the thHiopuiar' judges concerning the modes in which they were to obtain the evidence necessary to enable them to detect ™eut the delinquent, were fraught in a stiU higher degree with good for the future. For it was in this part of the proceedings that not only the jury principle, but a kind of representative principle, came into new and most salutary action. When Henry II. returned from Normandy, in the year 1 1 70, he found the people loud in their complaints on account of the extortions and oppressions which had been practised upon them in his absence. Henry, with the advice of his great council (pptimates), sent judges (par ones err antes) to visit the different counties, and to coUect evidence in relation to these charges. In pursuance of these instructions, the judges were empowered to demand on oath, from all barons, knights, and freemen, and from - all citizens and burgesses, that they should say the truth concerning aU that should be required of them on behalf of the king, and that they should not conceal the truth for love or hatred, favour or affection, gift or reward. As the sheriffs and the bailiffs were the parties most vehe mently accused, then conduct was to be especiaUy in vestigated. Inquiry was to be made concerning the amount of money which they had unduly levied on * Madox, c. iii. 362 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. b£ok in. the hundreds or townships since the king had passed — 1" into Normandy, so that every excess in rating might be ascertained, and every injury done by that means corrected. Care was to be taken also, to discover in what instances the guilty had been allowed to escape without punishment, and the innocent had been ac cused without cause. So wide was the range of tins inquiry, that all landholders were embraced in it, and required to give a true account of aU things taken from their tenants, by lawful judgment, or without judgment. Archdeacons and deans were subject to this scrutiny, in common with sheriffs and bailiffs. Great was the terror excited by these proceedings. The result, indeed, was not altogether such as the fears of the offenders, and the hopes of the injured, had led them to expect. But the effect was good. It showed the delinquents the power that might at any time be evoked against them. Nearly all the sheriffs were removed from their office, and many of then subordinates were subjected to heavy fines.* It wiU be seen, that in aU these proceedings, the judges administered the law by means of jurors. In so doing, they made their uses, as far as practicable, of the old Saxon hundred. It should also be observed, that they conformed themselves to another, old Saxon usage, by accepting ' four men and the reeve,5 as representative of a township. In a grand inquest held at St. Albans in the time of John, each of th*-. demesne towns of the king sent its four good men and its reeve. We read also of 'four discreet knights,' and sometimes of twelve men, as required from every county, corresponding with the four men summoned from the borough, or the jurors summoned for the hundred. As these parties had been wont to present the grievances of the people before the representatives of the king in the old shiremotes, so now they pre sented them before the judges, who had come into the place of the sovereign by a special appointment. * Palgrave, i. c. ix. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 363 It is not easy to speak with confidence touching book in. some of the nicer shades of fact in the history of our Chap" 4" constitution during this staffe. We mav see, however, ?eoog°i; 1 1 ±1 1 j-l ° , J ¦ -I ¦¦ tlon of two very clearly, that the government was carried on by g^at prin- means of two main elements — by authorities deputed ciples" mostly by the crown on the one hand, and by means of evidence to be furnished by the people on the other. Over a large surface the king's power could avail nothing, apart from evidence so obtained ; at the same timej such evidence could avail nothing, apart from the assent of the crown. Great was the power of the crown ; but great also was the power of jurors, whether as restricted in their function to the pre sentation of evidence, or as permitted to be judges of evidence when presented. The history of authority among the Teutonic races course of is a history which moves upward, from the less to the amongtL greater. The state begins with the smaUer com- Germanic ° ™ tribes. munity, which grows large by embracing other com munities hke itself. The unit is before the aggregate; and to the last, the unit is mindful of this fact, and jealous of its individuality. The tithings make up the hundred, the hundreds may become a shire, and the shires may become a kingdom — but the lowest was first, and is not content to be injuriously over shadowed by the highest, which has come last. Sove reignty among tbe Anglo-Saxons always bore the marks of being thus originated ; and sovereignty in the case of the proudest of the Normans was power- fuUy influenced and modified by these antecedents. With the Celtic tribes, the policy which obtained has been the reverse of all this. The course of power with that race has been from above — from the greater to the less. Out of the uses of the representative principle for remedial and, judicial purposes above mentioned, sprang its uses, as we shall see in another place, for legislative purposes, and for the general purposes of finance.* * Edinburgh Bev. xxxvi. 290. Palgrave's Commonwealth,'!, c. 9. 364 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. When once a political machinery has become esta- _ — '1' Wished, nothing is more common than to find it made to embrace many things not included in its original design. Judicial Such, then, was the kind of effort made by the best kings of this period to protect the bearers ofthe public burdens against oppression, and to secure that the ad ministration of justice between man and man should be without fear or favour. The facts might seem to warrant the conclusion that the acts of the crown itself would be especially marked by considerateness, humanity, and respect for the law. But no such inference is sustained by history. Places of emolu ment, even the chief offices of state, were commonly a matter of purchase ; and men had learned to defend the usage gravely and without a blush, insisting that the man who had paid a heavy price for such a position was more likely to avoid what might occasion the loss of it, than the man who obtained it without cost. Our early Norman kings obtained large sums by this means. In reality, the monarchs of this interval felt little scruple about the modes of obtaining money, and appear to have thought, that whUe it certainly became them to see that the subject was neither despoiled nor oppressed by others, such acts as practised by them selves could rarely be a just ground for complaint.* It is notorious that in the reign of Henry II. there was no court in the land in which justice was * Bolls and Becords ofthe Court held before the King's Justiciars, i. Introduction. No name is more disgracefully associated with the judicial corruptness of his times than that of Richard I., who seems to bave inherited the covetousness of the first William, along with his mili tary passion. During Eichard's absence from the kingdom, his brother John acted with the nobles who were intent on removing Longchamp from the office of justiciar. John one day came to a meeting, and said that Longchamp was prepared to defy them all if be would only himself grant him his pro tection, for which he was ready to pay 'jool, within a week.' John added : ' I am in want of money — a word to the wise,' and retired. The nobles arranged to lend John $ool. to prevent his virtually re-selling the office of justiciar for 700?. — Ibid. kiv. lxv. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 365 not known to be bought and sold as a common article book iu. of merchandize. The oppressive means by which the CHAP" 4" crown enriched itself dady in those times, seem to us almost incredible. Money was sometimes given to appease the personal anger of the king, or to obtain his good offices against an adversary. Fines were ex torted as the condition of aUowing men to implead a certain person, to sue in a certain court, or to enter upon lands which they had recovered by law. Money was accepted from a suitor to help him against his antagonist, and sometimes from both suitors to help each against the other. In the latter case, it is sup posed there was usually sufficient grace left to ensure the return of the money to the suitor who had not been successful. The Jews, and persons charged with criminal offences, were made to be a prolific source of revenue. When kings could thus sell what should be priceless, it is easy to imagine what inferior judges would do. The privUeges, and the most natural rights, of towns, were purchased at heavy costs, and on every confirmation of such grants new exactions were made. But, of aU the forms of tyranny prevalent at that time, none is so extraordinary as the power which the king was aUowed to assume over the persons and posses sions of wards, and with regard to marriage generaUy, among the families of his nobles. The wards were commonly disposed of to the highest bidder ; and a tenant in chief of the crown .found one consequence of his elevation to be, that he could neither marry himself, nor dispose of his children in marriage, according to his inclination, without purchasing that liberty by a considerable payment to the sovereign.* But good came from these excesses. Normans and * Towards the close of this period councils forbad the holding of tournaments, but Eichard I. presumed to grant dispensations from such canons, and exacted a fee for so doing. — Bolls and Becords, Introd. § xxii. Madox, c. iii. § 6, 7 ; c. vi. § 1 ; c. vii— xiv. On nearly all questions touching our constitutional history during this period the work of Madox is invaluable. 366 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. Difficulty of resistance. book iii. English were thus prepared, from the feeling of their °HAP' 4' common wrongs, to act together for their common deliverance. The provisions of Magna Charta point to nearly all the customs and abuses above mentioned as among the grievances ofthe times.* But these exactions were made, for the most part, on individuals, or on isolated bodies of men. It is true, the individuals, and the bodies so dealt with, belonged to classes. But the individual noble found it difficult to move his brother nobles ; and the1 humble bur gesses of one town possessed little means of influencing their brother burgesses of other towns. Could either have succeeded, the movement would have been, at best, but the movement of a particular grade or class. Thus the power to resist was to be for a while divided and weak, while the power to oppress re mained central and strong. It is to be further observed, that with so many cor rupt sources of revenue open to them, and with such large personal domains, the kings of this period were much less dependent than their successors on general taxation. The wealth of the crown in lands was enor mous, and these the king could tax at his own discretion, as being his own. He could levy taxes, also, on aU towns not ceded to his nobles. To the taxes, under the name of tallage, levied on the royal lands and on the towns, no limit was assigned, save such as prudence, or some sense of justice and humanity, might suggest.* The Bower of the crown from its great wealth. * The tallage rendered to the king (excluding the tallage of tbe Jews) ¦was raised ' upon bis demeasnes, escheats, and wardships, and upon the. burghs and towns of the realm.' — Madox, c. xvii. 480. When the con tribution was made for lands that were not of military tenure, it was called hidage, or aid ; when it was paid out of knights' fees, it was called scutage ; strictly speaking, it was a tallage only as it came from towns and boroughs. It came upon all towns, and less heavily on the counties than on the towns. — Ibid. c. xvii. When Madox says that the king im posed tallage on the ' towns of the realm! he of course excepts those ceded in whole or in part to the local nobility — all beside were royal towns. ' If men were not the king's immediate tenants, they were not tallageable to the king, but to their immediate lord.'- — Ibid. 498. ' But such inferior lord could not rightfully raise tallage oftener, or in any other manner, than the king raised tallage on his own demeasnes.' — Ibid. ji6. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 367 result of a tallage on the lands of the king was, in book iii most instances, a supply of money; the result of it c"Ar> on the lands of his barons, was a supply of men. These statements do not comprehend everything re lating to this obscure and entangled subject, and some of them may be open to a degree of exception ; but they give, we believe, the substance of the matter as it stood. The liberties of the subject have grown out of the necessities of the crown. But our early Norman kings knew httle of such necessities. During the first three or four reigns after the Conquest, the councU of barons did not concern themselves about what the king might choose to do in respect to the occupants of his own lands, nor in relation to the towns immediately subject to him. UntU the age of the Great Charter, accordingly, taUages, as we have stated, were imposed pretty much at the king's will. But where there is no will of a representative body to im pose restrictions, there remains the law of circum stances, to which the most arbitrary are bound more or less to conform themselves. It is not untU we reach the reign of Richard I. that origin of tallages become known under the name of subsidies — tenths' and and such names as tenths and fifteenths. These terms fifteenths- indicate the growth of system in the business of taxation. They suppose a definite and settled basis of assessment common to the whole kingdom.* The tax caUed Danegelt was of "Saxon origin. It Danegeit. had been imposed on all the counties of England, and was designed to supply a fund for making special pro vision against invasions from the north of Europe. It was continued after the Conquest under the same * Tenths and fifteenths were levied only on ' moveables.' In 1301, all the household furniture, utensils, clothes, money, horses, corn, and other provisions in the town of Colchester were valued by the tax- gatherers at 518Z. 16s. o^d. ; the fifteenth on which yielded 34Z. 12*. yd. — Eden's State of the Poor, 26. A fifteenth was a fifteenth on the rated value of such property, and a tenth was a tenth ; but the rating seems to have been very low. — Brady, On Boroughs, 6g. 368 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. name, and for the same purpose. But as the danger HAP' 4" to which it pointed by its designation died away, the impost itself became irregular, partial, and at length ceased to be levied. It was the ship-money of those days, and was paid for the last time soon after the accession of Henry II. * Duties on Of course, the king imposed duties on imports and exports.and exports, and this he appears to have done on his own authority. This branch of revenue was generally farmed by contractors. The articles on which the heaviest duties were paid were wine, wool, and leather. Thus early, too, considerable sums were obtained by the sale of patents and monopolies. In the notice of London dues, in the reign of Eichard I., we find the first mention of tin, as an article of traffic, since the departure of the Bomans. f Eetrospect. We have thus glanced at some great facts indicating the effect of the Norman Conquest on Government in England. We have seen that the great proprietors among the Anglo-Saxons at that time were compara tively few in number. Even among these few, the earl Waltheof was almost the only man who could be said to be at all formidable. With him fell the last hope of the Enghsh. This was in less than seven years after the battle of Hastings. The wealth and power of the Saxon nobility passed thus suddenly and com pletely into other hands. The enemy had not only kUled, but had taken possession, and ruled as it pleased him. Those subject to his wiU suffered long from his scorn, his spoliation, and his tyranny. Good result- But the effect of this change was not all evil. The thf co™ Norman government proved to be a strong govern- quest. ment. Only by such a government could that old enemy the Dane be taught to respect the shores of this island. In securing the kingdom against aU further danger from that quarter the Normans did a good work. And though by their settlement in Eng- * Madox, c. xvii. 475-480. t Ibid. c. xviii. of the Con queror. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 36$ land they added still another race to that ever fretting book hi. mixture of races which had found their home in this C"AP' 4' country, they came as the new and more powerful element which was to contribute to give a new unity to the whole. The Saxons had only partiaUy van quished the Britons. The lesser states of the Hep tarchy had submitted but imperfectly to the greater. The struggle between the Saxons and the Danes had issued in an angry compromise, rather than in a peace ful settlement. The Normans were the first real mas ters of the island since the departure of the Romans. Under the kings of this race, England became properly a kingdom, compact, potent, and promised to be some day equal to great things. But great pohticians are not wise at aU times. An oversight excess ot precaution is sometimes fatal to their ob ject. The Conqueror was solicitous to be known in history as the founder of a dynasty. With this view, his forethought was exercised to bequeath large powers to his successors. But he could not ensure that the men to wield those powers should be always moderate and wise men. In the absence of this secu rity, the greater the power vested in the crown, the greater the danger of excess on the part of its pos sessor, and the greater the danger of the disaffection naturally generated by excess. Excesses came, and attempts were made, from time to time, to abate the hostUe feeling thus awakened. Some good laws and usages which had obtained in England were ceded to the English, and others which had obtained in Nor mandy were ceded to the Normans. The jealousies which grew up in this manner between the crown and the aristocracy, were favourable to popular liberty. Upon occasions, the king and the noble bid high for the popular suffrage. StiU, the abuses of an almost unbounded prerogative Distinctions continued to be great. But as the Normans were gJatiy exposed to those evds only in a somewhat less degree diminished- than the English, the whole kingdom came ere long I B B 370 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. to have its reasons for wishing to impose some re- HAP' °" strictions on a power so exorbitant. This it became the more possible to do, as the two races, the con querors and the conquered, became much blended together, by intermarriages and other influences. This, we are assured, by an authority of the time, was so much the tendency of affairs before the close of the reign of Henry II., that in the community at large, the distinction between Saxon and Norman had almost disappeared. Even the differences of language were rapidly passing away.* Nor should we forget to refer again in this place to the educating influence of those wholesome customs which made the administration of the king's laws de pend so largely on the wiU of the king's subjects in the capacity of jurors, always as witnesses, if not always as judges. It may be true that the laws ad ministered in the Hundred court, and in the County court, could not be said to be always the old Saxon laws. Nevertheless, the English clung with great affection to those tribunals, and to the popular free dom and influence inseparable from them. The manner of obtaining evidence, and the mode of admi nistration generally, remained, in most respects, as they had been when the law itself was without change from foreign influences. We must add, that circum- the controversy of Henry II. with Becket, the long favourable absence of Richard I. from the kingdom, the imbeci- tothepa- litv and vices of his brother John, and the disasters party. in Normandy, which left the kings of England with out that resource to fall back upon in their times of weakness — all these were circumstances which tended to strengthen the heart of a great patriotic party, which had become intent on restraining that kingly power whence so much evil had come. In the Great Charter they achieved more than the past had allowed them to promise themselves. * Dialogus de Scaccario, lib. i. c. x. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 371 The reign of John is made up of three memorable book hi. quarrels — the first with the king of France, the second °HAP' 4" with the pope, the third with his own barons. ?eten of Arthur, duke of Brittany, was nephew to John, Hj3 di8ag. and vassal to Philip, king of France. John murdered ters in Nor- his nephew, or at least caused him to be murdered ; and Philip took up arms to avenge the death of his vassal. The effect was, that of the domains of the Enghsh crown in France, the province of Guienne alone continued in any sort of relation to it. Innocent III. was the last of the Hildebrand school hjs quarrel of pontiffs. He insisted that the vacant see of Can- Tent iil°" terbury should be filled by an ecclesiastic chosen by the monks of Canterbury. John insisted that the choice should be with the bishops of the province. The former course would be favourable to the pre tensions of the Boman see, the latter to those of the Enghsh crown. The dispute thus originated rose so high, that the kingdom was laid under an interdict, the king himself was excommunicated, and the king of France was stimulated by Innocent to add the in vasion of England to his invasion of Normandy. To such a state of desertion and weakness had John re duced himself by his incapacity and his vices, that he saw no means of saving himself except by making his submission to Innocent, and consenting to hold even the crown of England as a fief from the papacy. Having descended to this depth of degradation in the most formal manner, the thunders of the Vatican, which had been so long directed against him, were ready to be wielded in his favour, and the king of France was induced to desist from his threatened in vasion. These were extraordinary humiliations. But they were the result of obvious causes. John's deed of blood disqualified him for resisting Philip in Nor mandy. In England, his craven and cruel temper, his rapacity and oppressions, his treachery and licen tiousness, were such as to have arrayed nearly ah men b B 2 372 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. against him. What marvel that such a man should Chap' 4' be no match for Innocent III. John became king in 1199, and it is not until 12 15, the last year but one of his reign, that the disaffection of his barons ripens into open revolt. This disaffec tion must not be supposed to have resulted from large political speculation on the part of the nobles of that age. The insolent behaviour of the king towards the wives and daughters of many of them, was one strong ingredient in the cup of their resentment. In other respects, the changes desired consisted of remedies against evils, everywhere more or less felt, which flowed naturally from the abuses of the feudal authority on the part of the subject, as weU as on the part of the sovereign. -The barons knew, that in attempting to impose new restrictions on the power of the crown, it would be necessary that their own power should become subject to new limitations. Archbishop Stephen Langton, the archbishop of Canterbury, Langton. ^^ ^gg^ raise(i to the primacy by Innocent, against the will of the king. An archbishop so promoted was not likely to expose himself to the resentment of his patron by becoming a patriot. A patriot, however, Langton proved. When John resigned the kingdom a second time into the hands of the pope, Langton rebuked the silence of the lay peers who were present, by delivering his protest against the proceeding. His more cultivated mind fitted him for becoming emi nently serviceable to the unlettered barons in the struggle to which they were committed. At Win chester, the king had been constrained to pledge him self to abolish all unjust laws, and to restore the good laws of the Confessor. In a council at St. Albans he renewed this pledge. The barons. At a meeting of prelates and barons in St. Paul's, Langton produced the charter attributed to Henry I., and made it clear that the principles there laid down went far towards providing against the abuses which had become so vexatious and formidable. Strange to THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 373 say, important as were the provisions of this charter, book hi. it appears to have dropped out of men's thoughts. c^^' John declared he had never heard of it. So rude or unsettled had been the times since the days of the first Henry. But to be able to faU back thus on the laws of a Norman king in seeking the redress of present grievances, was felt to be a great advantage. The next meeting of the barons was in the abbey of St. Edmundsbury, where the substance of their de mands was agreed upon, and the parties swore to be faithful to each other until those demands should be come law. From St. Edmundsbury they directed their steps towards London, which they entered in mihtary array, for the purpose of presenting their complaints, in the form of a petition, to the king. John replied that he must be aUowed some time for consideration. Both parties had sought the good offices of the pope, but Innocent sided with the king, as his vassal, to the great indignation of the nobles. In Easter week, both parties were active in mustering forces ; but the followers of the king were few compared with those of the barons. John took possession of Oxford. The barons, with more than two thousand knights, and other armed men in proportion, marched to within fifteen -miles of that place. Langton and the earl of Pembroke, who were still with the king, were deputed to ascertain the demands of the leaders of this force. Then demands were committed to writing, probably by Langton himself; and on his return, the archbishop read them aloud to the > king, along with a conclu sion which stated, that if these terms were not ac cepted, the barons were pledged to take possession of the royal castles and domains, as precautions for their own safety. John not only rejected these demands, but swore furiously that he would never submit to such terms. ' Why/ said he, in bitter accents, ' why do they not ' demand my kingdom at once ?' On learning that the king had so decided, the barons appointed Fitzwalter 374 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. their general. Northampton refused them admission ; Chap a - — _' but Bedford gave them welcome, and London secretly invited them to make the capital the centre of opera tions. The pope censured all these proceedings. The barons paid little heed to his denunciations. They summoned all of their order who had not joined them to do so without delay, on pain of being accounted enemies to the hberties of the people, and to the peace of the kingdom. The king saw himself miserably deserted. Seven attendants, some of whom were of doubtful fidelity, were all that remained with him in his retreat at Odi- ham. Great was his anger against the barons, cease less were his efforts to secure adherents, at any cost, or from any quarter. But his passion and his policy were alike fruitless. The nation was with the men in arms against him. He was compelled, accordingly, to give the barons a meeting, and to consider terms of agreement. Magna From Windsor Castle the king descended to a level harta. mea(iow_ian(i near Staines, known by the name of Running-mead, from a stream which passed through it. There the two parties encamped at a given dis tance. In the intervening space the deputies assem bled, and conferences commenced, which lasted four days. At length the Great Charter received the royal signature ; and the Tower and City of London were retained by the barons untd twenty-five of their num ber should be appointed as guardians of the liberties of England, with power to levy war against the king, if necessary, for the maintenance of the said liberties. As the grievances against which the provisions of the Great Charter were directed came largely from the feudal system, they were, of course, such as would naturally pass away with that system. But the re dress, even in those cases, was sought on a principle ' possessing a permanent significance and value. That principle was, that there is a power in the subject THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 375 which may be legitimately exercised to impose restric- book rft. tions on the power of the crown. Wardship, and other ClIAP" 4" feudal usages, together with the abuses which grew up with them, have ceased; but the principle which curbed excesses in that day, has survived to check ten dencies to excess in other forms, in the same quarter, to our own time. The two grand provisions in every scheme of liberty, must have respect to the security of person and pro perty. On the first of these points the Charter says — ' No freeman's body shah be taken, nor imprisoned, ' nor disseised, nor outlawed, nor banished, nor in any ' ways be damaged, nor shaU the king send him to ' prison by force, except by the judgment of his peers, ' and by the law of the land.' On the second point, the language of this memorable document is — ' No ' scutage nor aid shall be imposed on the kingdom, ' except by the common council "of the kingdom ; unless ' it be to redeem the king's body, to make his eldest ' son a knight, and once to marry his eldest daughter ; ' and that to be a reasonable aid ; and in like manner ' shall it be concerning the Tallage and aids of the city ' of London ; and of other cities which from this time ' shaU have then liberties. ; and that the city of Lon- ' don shaU fully have aU its liberties and free customs, '• as weU by land as by water.' The Great Charter, accordingly, was a solemn protest against the evil of arbitrary arrests and arbitrary taxation. It placed the law as a fence about the person of the- subject; and in regard to taxation, it placed the authority of the ' common councU of the kingdom,' abreast with the authority of the king. It is true, the Charter restricted this parliamentary authority to those who were the direct tenants of the crown — that is, to the aristocracy. But it made the suffrage of that assembly indispensable to the action of the crown in all matters of taxation; and pro vided, moreover, for its being at aU times duly an&. 376 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. SgoK in. legaUy convened. It is in the very next reign, that -. — L' the word parliament comes to be understood as including a house of commons. .It is true, also, that the provisions of the Great Charter did not descend more than indirectly and par- tiaUy to the lowest class — the non-franchised of those days. But even the ' vdlein,' often little above the serf, was not to be distrained of his ' waggonage.'* And it is no small matter to find these haughty barons stipu-< lating that there shaU be ' no sale, no delay, no denial ' of justice' in the case of the humblest freeman. This stipulation conferred a benefit of much value on a large portion of the Saxon population of those times. Its tendency was to put the law in the place of the lawlessness both of the king and of the noble. It should always be remembered, that the barons sur rendered much themselves, in caUing upon the king to make this surrender. Many evils of that time were thus abated or abolished, and many principles were avowed or assumed which were to be applied in after times upon a scale never suspected by those who had evoked them. The seeds were there, the vegetation and the growth would come in its season. Magna Charta and the Charta De Foresta, says Sir Edward Coke, ' have been confirmed, established, and commanded to ' be put in execution by thirty -two several acts of Par- ' liament.' So unwelcome had these concessions been to the crown, so precious were they in the estimation of the people. Of all the evils introduced by the Nor mans, the most arbitrary and pitiless were the forest * ' A freeman shall not be amerced for a small offence, but only accord ing to the degree of the offence; and for a greater delinquency, ac cording to the magnitude of his delinquency, saving his contenement; a merchant shall be amerced in the same manner, saving his merchandize ; and a villein shall be amerced after the same manner, saving to him his wainage : and none of the aforesaid amercements shall be assessed, but by the oath of honest and lawful men of the vicinage.' — c. xv. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO GOVERNMENT. 377 laws. The penalties of those laws no longer extended book iii. to life or limb.* ClIAP'4' So great, on the whole, was the change — the Revo lution in Government — which the lapse of a century and a half from the Conquest had sufficed to bring about. * In our statutes, Magna Charta is printed as a law of the ninth year of Henry III. But it is in fact a transcript from the Parliament roll of 25 Edw. I. — Barrington's Observations on the Statutes. The Charter consisted properly of two documents — the Great Charter, and the Charter of the Forests. Both were confirmed by Edward in the year above men tioned. It is remarkable that our great law writers, Bracton, Fleta, and Briton, who became conspicuous in the age following that of the Great Charter, make little use of that document. Was it that even such men were not fully alive to the acquisition that had been made ; or was it that to them, as lawyers, popular liberty was a subject of less interest than scientific law ? CHAPTER V. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. Bcj££.™ ^WO changes materially affecting the character of — — -L the Anglo-Saxon church took place soon after the thefplrituai Conquest. WiUiam substituted Normans for Saxons, courts. in ^e manner described, in the chief bishoprics and abbeys. He also instituted the tribunals since known in our history under the name of the spiritual courts. Among the Anglo-Saxons the clergy and laity acted very much together, both in the making of law and in its administration. Thanes and ecclesiastics sat on the same bench, not only in the Witanagemote, but in the County Court. But on the Continent, the clergy had long been in possession of their separate ecclesiastical courts, distinct from the courts of the laity. As the objects of which those separate courts professed to take cognizance were such only as related to the cure of souls, it was not unnatural that the great law in such courts should be the canon law. But inasmuch as human responsibility has to do, not only with everything directly religious, but with everything moral, it would not be difficult to attract to such tribunals a multitude of cases not at first contemplated as belonging to them. Marriages, wills, and a host of questions resulting from them, or re sembling them, were claimed as questions proper to be determined by this spiritual authority. And as the law of these courts was a distinct law, and as the men who administered it became a distinct order of judges, it seemed only a fitting sequence to such a policy, that the clergy should account themselves as not amenable, in any circumstances, to the tribunals of the laity. Such a subjection of the spiritual to the THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 379 worldly, it was maintained, must be a subjection of book in. the greater to the less. The Conqueror was far from Chap' 5" meaning that the clergy should carry their notion's, to such lengths. He wished to purchase their attach ment, and to use them as a counterpoise to the undue influence of his nobles. But they were not to be bribed. They clung to the independent power thus ceded to them. So WUham laid up stores of vexation for those who should come after him.* Two other changes in relation to the English church, Transub- scarcely less considerable than those above named, —and ceii- belong to this period. The doctrine of transubstantia- ciTrgyf the tion was now to become an acknowledged dogma with the Enghsh clergy, and vigorous efforts were to be made to enforce upon them the law of celibacy. The tendency of both these movements was manifestly towards the increase of clerical power. In the eucha rist, according to the doctrine of transubstantiation, the humblest priest was supposed to achieve the * Seldeni Analect. 130. Notes Eadmer. 168, 187. Wilkins's Con cilia, i. 199. Keeve's Hist, of Eng. Law, i. c. 2. The language ofthe ordinance issued by the Conqueror is as follows : ' That no bishop nor archdeacon shall henceforth hold place de legibus episcopalibus in the Hundred court, nor submit to the judgment of secular persons any cause which relates to the cure of souls : but that whosoever is proceeded against for any cause or offence, according to the episcopal law, shall resort to some place which the bishop shall appoint, and there answer to the charge, and do what is right towards God and the bishop, not according to the' law used in the Hundred court, hut according to the canons and the epis copal law.' Giannone, in his Civil History of Naples, has given a sum mary of the pretexts of the clergy in making these encroachments. ' All appeals,' says the historian, ' being carried to Bome, care was taken to enlarge the jurisdiction of the episcopal court, and to extend the cog nizance of the ecclesiastical judges over more persons and more causes, so that little was left to the secular magistrates to trouble themselves about. However, Frederic IL, not willing to see some enormous crimes of the clergy go unpunished, was wont frequently to chastise them ; but Clement, in the conditions of the investiture granted to Charles, would have it stipulated that the clergy should not be sued before a, secular judge either in civil or criminal cases, except in those which concerned fiefs."— Bk. xix. §3, 380 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. greatest of miracles. In the vow of celibacy, relation HAP' to the church was accepted in place of all family relations, and in precedence of all imaginable relations. Every priest, according to the doctrine of transubstan tiation, and the elaborated sacramental theory to which that doctrine gave such terrible completeness, became a functionary possessed of power the most mysterious and unlimited ; and it was only consistent that men supposed to be possessed of authority so extraordinary, should be separated from ordinary men by some strong lines of demarcation. Not that the body of the clergy were hypocrites in professing to regard the doctrine of transubstantiation as a doctrine essential to salvation, and the law of celibacy as a pure and Christian law for the priesthood. Far from it. Had not their belief on these points been general and sincere, ambi tious men could not have used them so effectually to the purposes to which they were applied. In eccle siastical history, the policy of the few beeomes strong, only too commonly, through the fanaticism of the many. By such means, the clergy of every nation in Europe became one body, as no other class of men had ever become. The young became their spiritual off spring in baptism, and the life so imparted ceased not to be dependent on their services until the extreme unction, or final absolution, gave it perfectness. On this ground, they claimed to be accepted as the father hood of Christendom. Nations were composed of their children. Kings owed them a filial reverence and submission. This was the advanced ground to which clerical pretension had attained in the eleventh cen tury. It was pretension resting professedly on a mysterious and spiritual basis, but used to a large extent to ends which were not spiritual Lanfianc. Lanfranc, whose name is so conspicuous in this portion of our history, was a native of Lombardy. His family was of senatorial rank. Having studied assiduously at Payia, he became distinguished by his knowledge of law, and by his efforts as an advocate THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 381 and a teacher. In 1040, from some unknown cause, he book nr, migrated, with a considerable number of his pupils, g"AP' 5' into Normandy, and settled as a teacher at Avranches. His power of acquisition, and his general capacity, were of a high order. His taste for learning disqua lified him for seeking distinction in military life, and the church, in consequence, presented the only channel , through which success, in the measure of his ambi tion, could be realized. In 1042, when forty years of age, he relinquished his vocation as a lay teacher at Avranches, and became a monk in the poor abbey of Bee. The abbey was a very recent, as weU as a very poor foundation, and the monks, who seem to have been as vulgar as they were poor, are said to have looked on the brother who was so much in advance of them with great jealousy. But Lanfranc brought reputation to the abbey, both by the strict ness of his life, and by his learning, and rather than lose the advantage of his residence, the fraternity were at length disposed to -make him their abbot. When invited to become archbishop of Canterbury, Lanfranc had been for some time abbot of Caen, and must have been in an advanced age. As arch bishop, he spared no pains to assimdate the Enghsh church in aU things to the Roman, as the Roman church then stood.* Everything commemorative of Anglo-Saxon piety tended to nourish Anglo-Saxon patriotism, and on that ground was disparaged by the Anglo-Normans. Lanfranc participated in this feel ing. He spoke with contempt of the learning, and piety, and customs of the English, even of their saints and martyrs. But in truth, though the name of Lanfranc has descended to us almost without reproach, we feel bound to say that his worldly wisdom seems to have been greatly in advance of his piety ; and that the * In a letter to pope Alexander, dated 1072, he addresses the pontiff as tbe person to whom the holy church throughout the whole world has been assuredly committed. — Wilkins, Concilia, i. 326. 3"82 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. facts of his history, as a whole, force upon us the im-* cfAP" s' pression, that he could descend to artifice, not to say craft, to accomplish his purpose, and tbat his inordi nate ambition is as little to be doubted as his know ledge and sagacity. When the marriage of WUliam and Matdda was contemplated, Lanfranc opposed it as unlawful, but he afterwards won the favour of the duke by preparing the way for that event. At one time, he saw the doctrine of the eucharist very much as Berengarius saw it ; but he subsequently distin guished himself as the great antagonist of his former friend on that point. When invited to become arch bishop of Canterbury, he dehvered aU sorts of protests against the appointment ; but, as primate of the English church, he was not prepared to relinquish a vestige of the rights or emoluments of that position. AU this, and more, may admit of satisfactory explana tions, but the explanations are hot given.* The doo- Before the time of Lanfranc, the doctrine of transub- tnmsub- stantiation was a sort of ultramontane doctrine, which stantiation hacj n0-fc been more than partially received in Europe. lit co mos the doctrine The Anglo-Saxon clergy knew nothing of the word liwch of transubstantiation, and if they knew anything of the England. d0gma afterwards denoted by that word, that dogma had not a place among the acknowledged doctrines of their own church. Elfric, a contemporary of St. Dunstan, and an eccle siastic of much celebrity in his time, has spoken in some of his epistles concerning the nature of the eucharist in a manner which repudiates incidentally, but most distinctly, the ideas regarding it which be came subsequently the generally acknowledged doctrine of the church. This letter was addressed to Wulf stan, archbishop of York ; and as its translation into the vernacular language was in obedience to the request of that prelate, the document must be admitted to be * Lanfranci Opera. Vita Lanf. Ordericus, lib. iv. Malmes. Beg. lib. i. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 383 of no mean authority. According to this writer, the book hi. ' housel (host) is Christ's body, not bodily, but Chap' 5" ' spirituaUy. Not the body which He suffered in, but ' the body of which He spake when He blessed the ' bread and wine, a night before his sufferings. The ' apostle,' he observes, ' has said of the Hebrews, that ' they did aU eat of the same ghostly meat, and they ' aU did drink of the same ghostly drink. And this, ' he said, not bodUy, but ghostly, Christ being not ' yet born, nor his blood shed, when that the people ' of Israel ate that meat, and drank of that stone. ' And the stone was not (a stone) bodily, though ' he said so. It was the same mystery in tne old law, ' and they did ghostly signify that Gospel housel of ' our Saviour's body which we consecrate now.' In a homUy by this same Elfric, appointed to be read to the people in the language spoken by them, the good abbot repeats the -doctrine of the above pas sage, in many forms, and with Ulustrations that could hardly be mistaken, the substance being, that nothing in this service was to be understood bodily (or literally), ' but that aU was to be understood ghostly (spiritually).' Lanfranc's zeal in support of the new doctrine was only in harmony with his general pohcy. The celibacy of the clergy, as we have intimated, was an article of discipline to which the church of Rome attached great importance at this juncture. To put an end to the contrary practice was one of the great reforms to which Gregory VII. had applied himself with the sagacity and energy which had dis tinguished his pontificate. In the scheme of this pontiff, every primate of a kingdom was, or ought to be, the most kingly person in it. WhUe to himself it pertained to be the king of aU kings, in things spiri tual and temporal, every crown, being properly in his view, a fief holden from his crown: In pur suance of this theory, he called on the Conqueror to render feudal and filial homage to him for the kingdom of England. The answer of Wilham was 3S4 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. a blunt rebuke, which prevented any repetition of chapj. ^^ c]a|m -n jj|s time.* J5xxt; ag -we have stated, the clergy could not be expected to be duly subser vient to this scheme so long as they were aUowed to marry, and to be connected by so many natural sym pathies with the secular communities around them. proceedings In a council convened in Winchester, over which mga*riedthe Lanfranc presided, it was resolved that such of the clergy. clergy as Were then married should be aUowed to re tain their wives ; but the unmarried were forbidden to marry, and the bishops in future were not to ordain any man who had a wife.f The above concession in favour of the married clergy suggests that they must then have formed a numerous class. In a council assembled in Westminster in 1 102, over which Anselm presided, a canon was adopted which enjoined celibacy on the clergy in the most absolute terms, requiring the married priests to put away their wives. Six years later, at a council in London, in which the king and the nobihty, as weU as the prelates, were pre sent, laws stdl more severe were passed on this sub ject. The priests and their wives who continued together were declared guilty of adultery, excommu nicated, and whatever they possessed was pronounced a forfeiture to the bishop of the diocese. | So the principle graduaUy gained ground, and it was steadily insisted on, until the usage of the English church became conformable in this respect to the usage which had become general. Of course, in this protracted and bitter controversy — for such it everywhere proved to be, — the zealous churchmen of the age assigned all sorts of reasons in aid of their policy, rather than the great reason by which the more sagacious of them ap pear to have been influenced. With some this sup posed purity of the ministers of religion was no doubt * Seldeni Notae ad Eadmer. 104. — Dupin, Cent. KI c. 5. f Spelman, Concil. ii. 13. X Ibid. ii. 23, 29; Wilkins, Concil, i. 338; Eadmer, 91, 94. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 385 viewed as indispensable to the purity of everything book iii. belonging to their oflice. But others were less simple- C"AP'5'' minded, and flattered themselves that church power would be safe in the measure in which it should be made to be the one object of life with the churchman. Lanfranc died in 1089, two years after the accession of WiUiam Rufus. William kept the see of Canter bury vacant for several years, in common with many other sees and abbeys, simply that he might appro priate their revenues to his own uses. But early in 1093 the king became dangerously iU, his conscience became alarmed, and measures were taken by his order to fill up the ecclesiastical vacancies. The see of Canterbury again passed into the hands of an Italian, in the person of Anselm, a native of Aosta in Pied mont.' Anselm was then about sixty years of age. He Anseim. had been a monk in the abbey of Bee, the friend of Lanfranc, and his coadjutor in his labours as a teacher. After the removal of Lanfranc from Bee, Anselm be came abbot. To much of the literary fame of his predecessor, he added a higher reputation for sanctity ; and as a theologian. He expressed himself as most un- wUling to accept the new dignity proffered to him. He told his friends that he saw little but discord as likely to arise between himself and the king. Nor did it require any great penetration to see the probabilities of the future in that light. The temper of the king was arbitrary, violent, and rapacious. Anselm was not covetous, nor in the ordinary sense worldly, but he was bent on extending and augmenting the privi leges of his order — the power and grandeur of the hierarchy. In Lanfranc there was much of the broad and flexible inteUigence which belongs to the man of the world. He was both scholar and statesman, one of a large class of men who attained to this double eminence during the Middle Age. But Anselm was a man of a more scholastic inteUect, more of a devotee, and, from his narrower range of thought, more con- 1 c c 386 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. scientious, and more obstinate. As commonly hap- _' pened with men of his description, the authority which he seemed most reluctant te accept, was an authority of which he was to the last degree jealous, and by no means disposed to resign, when it had once been assumed. Dispute be- It is not improbable that Anselm had enemies' near seimand" the person of the king. Between the men about wnham "WUham Rufus, and the new archbishop, there could be httle in common. The first complaint of the king • was, that the heriot paid by the primate — the fine to the crown on the introduction f o a new fief — was not of the proper amount. But his anger became great, when he learnt that Anselm had presumed, on his own authority, to acknowledge the claims of pope Urban II. in preference to those of his rival. The king insisted that on aU such questions it became the primate to wait for the judgment of his sovereign, and to conform himself to that judgment when given. It had been provided by the Conqueror that the clergy should not acknowledge any pope but with his per mission ; that they should not publish any letters from Rome until approved by him ; that they should not hold any council, or pass any canons, without his con sent; that they should not pronounce a sentence of excommunication on any of his nobles but with his sanction; and that no ecclesiastic should leave the kingdom at his own pleasure.* Anselm could assent to no such doctrine ; and was a man, in consequence, who should never have become archbishop of Canter- buiT. Even that office, which he himself had received from the king, was not valid, in his view, until con firmed by the approval of the pope. The king, and the threat majority of the Enghsh prelates, declared against the claims of Urban II., and thus the embroil ment seemed to become hopeless. Not long after- wards, however, the king surprised Anselm by de- * Eadmer, 6; Soldeni JVi./«e ad Eadmer. 104. Wilkins, Concilia, i. 199. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 387 claring himself favourable to the claims of Urban, and book hi. by stating that the paUium for his use as archbishop °BAP' s' had been sent by his hohness. In these circum stances the primate found himself obliged to accept of that mark of papal recognition from the hands of the king, in place of receiving it, as he had hoped, from the hands, of the pope, as the supreme pastor, in person.* But the peace which seemed to be thus restored was not of long continuance. In the following year the king, charged the primate with having endan gered the interests of the state by sending a less number of retainers to the aid of the crown, in a mili tary exigency, than the crown was entitled to expect. In this affair the iU mood of the king was not more conspicuous than the pride of the archbishop. Anselm sought, and at length obtained, permission to leave the kingdom. This was in 1097, and the archbishop continued an exUe, in France or Italy, until the sudden death ofthe king, in noo.f According to the law of succession, Robert should Accession have succeeded to his brother William. But at the moment when the throne became vacant, Robert was at a distance with the Crusaders, and his place was seized by bis younger brother Henry. It became Henry, in these circumstances, to be mindful of every thing that might tend to conciliate the nation, and especiaUy the clergy. He removed some obnoxious officers ; put an end to many irritating oppressions ; bound himself at his coronation by the oath of the Anglo-Saxon kings ; and recalling Anselm from exUe, received him with every mark of respect and favour. \ But a few days only after the arrival of the primate Dispute there were signs of an approaching storm. Henry ?°°°Be™"s caUed on the archbishop to render homage to him intures- * Eadmer, 23—31. Malms, de Pontif. 124, 125. Anglia Sacra, i. 164. t Eadmer, 37 et seq. f Ibid. 56. C C 2 388 NORMANS' AND ENGLISH. book iii. the usual form, by accepting the ring and crosier from aAP' 5' his hands, as the symbols of his investiture with the rank and temporalities of his see by the crown. Anselm, in place of complying with this demand, declined to do so in the most explicit terms — referring the king to the decree of a council assembled in Rome the year before, which declared, that any layman conferring investiture in that manner, and any priest accepting it, should by so doing incur the sentence of excommu nication.* Henry of course felt, that what a number of ecclesiastics at Rome might exact, even with the pope at their head, and what it might become him as king of England to acknowledge, were very different things, f But the controversy which grew up in this way, between Anselm and Henry, had become a European controversy. It had provoked the most angry dis cussions, especially in Germany, where circumstances seemed to point to the emperor as the most fitting person to sustain the rights of the civil power against this new form of assault upon it. The ceremony itself in this case was clearly a very trivial matter, but the interpretation put upon it by the court of Rome, and the uses to which it might be applied, were not trivial. The manner in which the popes had acquired their supposed right to interfere in the affairs of national churches is a story which spreads itself over the his tory of centuries. From the fourth century down wards, every opportunity was seized to add to the number of precedents in favour of such interventions, * Eadmer, _$6. Wilkins, Concilia, i. 379-382. Pope Paschal in structed Anselm to excommunicate all persons, bishops or laymen, viho should presume to act upon the king's views on-this question. — Ibid. f Paschal complained bitterly to Henry, that even the nuncios ofthe apostolic see were not allowed to enter England without a royal warrant, and that cases of appeal to Rome from the English clergy had ceased. Henry proceeds so far as to counsel the pope to be more moderate, lest his children should lose patience, and be found to withdraw themselves from his obedience. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 389 and a precedent once gained was never forgotten, book hi. The history of the Anglo-Saxon church, in common CnAP' 5' with that of nearly aU churches, had furnished its share of convenient examples. The mission of Augus tine and his monks originated with pope Gregory, and that pontiff had naturaUy much to do with the early history of Christianity in this country. Subsequently, Theodore, a monk of Tarsus, was received as arch bishop of Canterbury, on the recommendation of the pOpe. Wilfrid, by his several appeals to Rome, of which mention has been made, did much to make the idea of its appellant jurisdiction and spiritual sove reignty familiar to the mind of the English. The many Enghsh kings, moreover, who went on pdgri- mage to the supposed shrines of the apostles in the Eternal City, contributed in so doing towards laying a foundation for the extravagant claims of the papacy which followed. The ecclesiastical customs of Europe aU drifted in the same direction. So elated did the papacy become by these signs of its growing power, that before the close of the eleventh century the pontiffs aspired, as we have seen, not only to the place of kings, but claimed to be possessed of a dignity higher than any imaginable on earth. It is at the same time clear that the man affecting to be possessed of such a sovereignty must have subjects, powerful subjects, obedient subjects, and many of them. To gain such subjects the aspirant must have official rank to confer, large wealth to distribute. The patrimony of the successor of St. Peter, in the meanwhUe, is very small. Hence, if rank and wealth are to be at the disposal of the pope on a large scale, the rank and wealth must come from the different national churches which profess submission to his rule. But how may the requisite hold on such possessions be secured ? The reasoning of the far-seeing Gregory VII. was, that the offices of metropolitans, bishops, and abbots, the great prizes of the church, being aU spiritual 390 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. B£o k iii. offices, are such as should not, from their nature, be — _' supposed to be conferred, in any sense, by the tem poral prince; The pontiff is the spiritual head of Christendom. From him alone can the right to exer cise spiritual functions proceed. But this custom of receiving the ring and crosier from the hands of a layman, is manifestly a receiving of the emblems of spiritual office from hands not spiritual. This un seemly usage should be suppressed. This accom plished, something more than a veto on all such appointments will accrue to the Roman see. The initiative in the filling up of such vacancies wiU then naturally belong to the pontiff, or, at least, such a proceeding on his part wiU be seen to be only con sistent with the position ceded to him. Under the • shelter of this plea men may be largely introduced into such influential positions, as a reward for services to the apostolic see, or with the understanding that such services are to be rendered. The prince may be left to require homage after the ordinary feudal manner, for the temporalities held from him, but the investiture with office by means of the ring and crosier being once surrendered as belonging to the papacy, and not to any temporal power, a key to the wealth of every national church in Christendom will be in great part secured. The reader will see that in this controversy the spiritual claims of the papacy are so used as to serve ends of no very spiritual description. How far Anselm saw the extent in which the priestly served as a covert for the worldly in these discussions we know not. But nothing could exceed the obstinacy with which he laboured to uphold the pretensions of his order. During the next six years, the question at issue between the king of England and the archbishop of Canterbury, was argued several times, on either side,- in Rome. Anselm. made a journey thither to urge his own suit in person. But on aU these occa sions the right of the king to grant investiture was THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 391 repudiated and condemned. The utmost that could book iii. at length be obtained was, that on condition of the C"AP" 5" king's consenting to abstain from this ceremony in future, the archbishop would forthwith remove the sentence of excommunication from all persons who had incurred that censure during these disputes ; that he would also consecrate certain prelates and abbots whom he had hitherto refused to consecrate ; and that in aU future elections of bishops and abbots, the rights of the king in relation to the temporalities of the benefice should be secured by homage, but not in the way of investiture by the use ofthe ring and crosier.* Henry's patience had been exhausted by these con- settlement tentions. In accepting these terms, he must have pate codn-" known that he had virtuaUv ceded the point at issue. cer"ing in- •/ Ft vestitures, But he persuaded himself t{iat the concession made and what concerning his right in relation to the temporalities was not without its value, and on these conditions accordingly peace was concluded. It was quite true that nomination to a vacant bishopric could be of small value to the person nominated without the sanction of the king, who could alone confer the tem poralities; but it was no less true that there could be no bishop at aU, no consecration at all, without the. sanction of the pope, from whom alone, according to the admitted theory, spiritual office could proceed. The court of Rome had so far succeeded, as to become possessed of a pretext which was sufficient to secure many of the best appointments in the English church, from time to time, to its instruments. For, as may. be supposed, the plea used to justify interference with the disposal of bishoprics, was soon used to justify in terference with the' disposal of benefices of less value. From this time to the time of the Reformation, the remonstrances caUed forth by encroachments of this nature are almost incessant in our history. * Eadmer, 53— 91. Spelman, Concil. ii. 27. Acta Conciliorum,~habbe, torn. vi. ed. Harduin. 392 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. Another feature of change in the ecclesiastical HAP"5" affairs of England during this interval, consisted in Exemption the attempts made by some of the religious houses to housesf °U3 place themselves under the immediate jurisdiction of the see of Rome, securing by that means exemption from the jurisdiction of the English bishops. As these monastic brotherhoods were British subjects, and as their wealth was British wealth, great resist ance was made to this innovation. But the resistance was not successful. The legatine authority in Eng land, and the custom of appeals to Rome, had come to be so familiar to all men, that the distance between the Thames and the Tiber seemed to have been greatly diminished. The distance, however, was what it had always been, and the exempt monks, we have reason to fear, were often, only too mindful of the fact, that the greater the distance between themselves' and their superior, the greater would be their licence. Rome, on the other hand, was equally aware, that the effect of this custom would be to furnish a new pre text for a large meddling with English affairs. Many abbeys were in this manner declared independent. Great privileges were conferred on them. But it was notorious that all these privileges were matters of purchase. The court where the purchases were made had become the most venal in Europe. In process of time, however, it was discovered that the rule of, the king and of the bishops might be in many respects less exacting and galling than that of the foreign court, and the tendency of such a discovery was to check this form of mischief. It should be added, that our kings sometimes took precedence of the pontiffs in conferring the exemption from episcopal oversight on monasteries. It was thus that some of the heads of those establishments rose to the dignity of mitred abbots.* # Matt. Paris, Vit. Abbat. 46 et seq. Spelman, Concil. ii. ,53-58. Petr. Bless, ep. 68. Chronicle qf Battle Abbey. Thomas it Beoket. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 393 The reign of Henry II. extends from 1145 to 11 89. book in. Of this interval the space from 1161 to 11 70 was chiefly occupied in the struggle between this monarch and Thomas a Becket. The history of this extraor dinary man is Ulustrative in many respects of his age. As we descend in our annals to the times of the Anglo- Normans, the materials of history become much more ample. Some of the most valuable of these contribu tions consist in the lives of distinguished men. But the men whose career is thus made known to us are mostly churchmen, and then actions, reported for the most part by admirers and partisans, are so overlaid with fiction and eulogy, as to render it necessary that some pains should be taken to distinguish between the invented and the probable. Becket is one of the men whose history has been written by writers of his own time, and in this spirit.* Following our guides on this subject discreetly, we may venture to say that Becket was the son ofa Lon don citizen in good circumstances ; that his mother was beheved to be a woman of Saracen birth ; that young Becket's studies in London and Oxford Were not very efficiently prosecuted ; that he was early distin guished, not as a man of learning, but as a person of great natural talent, and most agreeable manners ; that the favour he acquired with Theobald archbishop of Canterbury, led to his being sent on an ecclesiastical negotiation to Rome ; that he acquitted himself in that capacity successfully, and was rewarded with the richest parsonage in England ; that his views expanded with 'his success ; that he afterwards studied civil law at Bologna and Auxerre ; that on his return he was in troduced to the king, became chancellor, and rose so high in the royal esteem by the abdity which he brought to that office, and by the charm of his com panionship, that Henry and Becket grew to be on * Becket had specially four biographers, Gervase, Fitzstephen, Eobert de Monte, and Hoveden. 394 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. such terms of intimacy as rarely take place between — !_' sovereign and subject; that the sumptuousness and splendour of the chancellor's establishment were such as had not hitherto been seen in any subject of the British crown ; that in his embassy to Paris to con duct negotiations for a royal marriage, his pageantries were the wonder of all who gazed upon them ; and that in this manner of life he continued until some way past forty years of age — a man more at home in hunt ing and hawking, in business of state, and even in the encounters of knighthood, than in the modest, duties of a clergyman. . It is at this stage in Becket's career that the see of Canterbury becomes vacant, and, to the amazement of everybody, the king recommends his chanceUor as the most fitting man to be placed at the head of the Eng lish church. The clergy oppose the nomination as unsuitable — as scarcely decent. But, after the delay of some thirteen months, Becket is duly consecrated. The secret of this proceeding no doubt was, that Henry had good reason to expect that Becket would be found as subservient to his wishes in relation to the church, as he had been in relation to the state. Already, the chancellor had gone far enough in support of the king's policy to warrant this expectation.* But when the ecclesiastical sovereignty of England — for in such light the primacy was viewed — came within the sight of the chancellor, a change passed over the entire complexion of his thoughts and purposes. During the twelve months and more, indeed, which inter vened between his nomination by the king, and his consecration, this change of spirit and intention is re served as a secret to his own bosom. But the crosier once in his hand, it became to him as the sceptre of a spiritual kingdom, and, inasmuch as the superstitions * Stepban. 23. Wilkins, Concil. i. 431. Lyttleton's Henry II. iii. 24. Petr. Bless, ep. 49. Turner's Hist. i. 237. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 395 of the age could alone give strength to a sovereignty book iii. of that order, he resolved to avail himself to the utter- CllAP' 5' most of power in that form. Securely inducted, he is the gay chancellor no longer. He is no more seen at the head of his festive board. He is no more the chief figure in a state pageant which is to fill even the court of Paris with wonder. He takes to sack cloth, and even that is allowed to be peopled with vermin. The water he drinks is made nauseous by infusions of fennel. He washes the feet of poor men daily in his ceU, and sends them away with his bless ing and with money. He exposes his back to stripes. He affects to be a devout reader ofthe Holy Scriptures. He is supposed to be much in prayer. He wanders about in gloomy cloisters, musing and in tears. He diffuses his charities everywhere around him. But when he ministers at the altar, his coarse and filthy underclothing is covered with the mtffet splendid vest ments.* Had Becket been a young man, with a character only partiaUy developed, it might have been less diffi cult to look on this change as sincere. Or had he been a weak man, liable to have been carried away by an Ul-regulated imagination, sensibility, and con scientiousness, behef in his honest intentions would have been possible. Or had this great apparent revo lution in character been foUowed, as in the case of the ex-chanceUor Turketel, by a life of unostentatious low liness and piety, a charitable judgment of the pheno menon might have been admissible.! But Becket, as * Steph. 24, 25. t Turketel, if we may credit the- account that has reached us concerning him, was a churchman who sustained the office of chancellor under Athelstan, Edmund, and Eldred, and had been engaged in the military as well as in the civil affairs of his time. In the midst of his popularity and power he suddenly retired to the ruined abbey of Croyland, restored it, endowed it, and then passed nearly thirty years of his life in the humble and useful discharge of his duties as abbot. — Ingulf. 2 5-J2. 396 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. we have said, was now more than forty years of age. — -1 " He was anything but a weak man. From this time, moreover, he never faded to give proof of being, as he had always been, one of the most haughty and ambitious men of his age. Change of object there was, but we see no change of character. By whatever sophis tries Becket may have imposed upon himself, it is manifest that ambition lay at the basis of his proceed ings. The aim of that ambition was nothing less than to be as great a man as the king of England himself. The first step of the archbishop, in pursuanceof hisnew policy, was to resign his chancellorship. This was an office commonly filled in those days by a churchman. Henry could hardly fail to interpret this change as omi nous of more. He was much displeased, and as the reason assigned by the primate was, that his episcopal duties were more than he could hope faithfully to discharge, Henry caUed upon him to resign his archdeaconry and his parsonage. It was assumed that an ecclesiastic with so tender a conscience could never wish to be in any sense a pluralist. Becket bad not expected such a move. He was by no means disposed to be obedient. But the wiU of the king was unalterable. The flat tering reception subsequently given to Becket by the pope at Tours came as oil on the flame of his ambition. On his return, he provoked great hostility by revi ving some old claims to properties said to belong to the see of Canterbury, but which had passed long since into other hands. The king was called upon to resign to the archbishop the town and castle of -Rochester ; and the earl of Clare was summoned to surrender the castle of Tonbridge into his hands. Some lord had refused to admit a priest of the primate's nomination to a living. Becket excommunicated him. Henry remonstrated, but was haughtily informed that it did not belong to the king to say who should be visited with church censure or who should be absolved.* * Diceto, $63. Gervase, Act. Pont. 1670. Stephan. 25. Quadril. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 397 The grand strife, however, began when Henry, with book hi. the consent of his barons, proposed his scheme for Chap' s' placing the ecclesiastical affairs of the country on a {^JJ^jJ1" more satisfactory basis in relation to the crown. This clarendon. scheme is contained in certain canons known in our history under the name of the Constitutions of Claren don. The design of these constitutions was to subject the clergy, on aU questions relating to temporal matters, and concerning the interests of the laity, to the authority of the crown. The clergyman charged with a criminal offence might be tried in the bishop's court, but it must be with the cognizance of the king's court ; and should the accused be found gudty, it was required that he should be delivered to the magistrate, to be punished as though he were a lay man. Becket insisted, that degradation from oflice was a sufficient punishment in all such cases. Another constitution prohibited aU appeals to Rome without the consent of the king ; another required that no dignified clergyman should leave the kingdom with out the king's licence ; and another declared that no tenant-in-chief of the crown, no officer of the king's household, or belonging to his demesne, should be ex communicated, or should have his lands laid under an interdict, without the king's knowledge and approval. These regulations sufficiently indicate the spirit and purpose of the king and his barons.* In the check thus laid on the assumptions of the clergy, no more was attempted than had been done by the Conqueror, when HUdebrand himself was on the throne. Nor was anything further from the intention of WiUiam than that clergymen, while excluded from the administration of secular law, should not them selves be subject to it. But if WUliam I. had his reasons for taking this course, experience since that time had given Henry II. much more weighty reasons for adhering to it. Anselm had shown, how a primate of * Wilkins's Concilia, i. 435. 398 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book ni. the English church might use the authority of the nAP' 5' papacy to contravene and humble the authority of the crown. The clergy, moreover, in this later period, had come to be so numerous, and were many of them so homeless, that, according to the most credible testimony, a large portion of the crime of the country was known to have been perpetrated by them, and perpetrated for the greater part with impunity, inas much as the delinquent ecclesiastic claimed to be amenable only to the tribunals of his order.* Grounds Nothing was more natural than that the court of ofthektag's Rome should be opposed to the Constitutions of policy. Clarendon. Wide was the distance between the posi tion of national churches as defined by those constitu tions, and as presented in the scheme of HUdebrand. Much has been written on this controversy between Becket and his sovereign, but nothing that has seemed to us fairly to apprehend the points really at issue. It may seem harsh for a layman, even in the person of a king, to attempt to give law to a churchman in the administration of church censures — and the king did say to the primate, you shall not excommunicate any of my nobles without my consent. But there was a reason for this interference. Why were not churchmen content with having what were called spiritual censures simply spiritual ? Why were they so eager to connect civil penalties with such censures, so as thereby to reduce the excommunicated man to the condition of an outlaw ? If the aid of the magis trate is to be invoked, that every sentence of this nature may be as much temporal as spiritual, is it very unreasonable that the civil power should claim to have something to do with the proceedings of the * Acta Condi. Labbe, vi. 1603, 1604. Herib. 22. Steph. 33. The king was assured by his judges that more than a hundred homi cides had been committed by clergymen during the first ten years of his reign, lesser offences being of course much more frequent. — Guil. Newbrig. lib. ii. c. 16. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 399 courts whence such sentences are issued P It should book iii. be seen at a glance, that it was the temporal conse- C"AP' s" quences allied with such censures that made the in terference of the temporal authority, not only reason able, but imperative, if the temporal interests of the community were to be secure. In like manner, the law which required that the king should be cognizant of all communications between the clergy and the court of Rome, was based on the fact that the censures and interdicts issued by that power were of a nature to disturb, not only the ecclesiastical, but all the civil relations of the kingdoms where they were introduced. So, likewise, the temporalities in the keeping of the crown, became the ground of its claim in regard to investitures. It was in the option of the clergy to rehnquish those temporalities, and having so done, to claim independence of all secular interference with the election of churchmen to then spiritual office. But to take such a course was far from their thoughts. It is not too much to say that their policy in relation to civil power was uniformly, to become strong, in every possible way, by its means, and never to become weak by dividing authority with it, except when unavoid able. One of the best informed among hving writers on English history, has compared the conduct of our kings, in claiming the right of investiture, to the con duct of a sovereign who should impose a mayor or a recorder on the city of London without the suffrage of its citizens.* But it is natural to ask — Did the eccle siastics of the Middle Age oppose the nomination of bishops by the crown because they wished them to be chosen by the people ? We all know they meant nothing ofthe kind. The question between the bearers ofthe 'two swords,' in those days, was not, who shaU" be free, but to which of us shall the place of precedence belong ? Churchmen were always pleased when they * Palgrave's History of Normandy and England, i. in, 112, 400 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. could caU in the magistrate, always much displeased P" *' when they found that by so doing they had caUed in a master. This was the source of Becket's displeasure t— of the vexed life he lived after he became primate. He would have accepted the magistrate as a coadjutor, but he was not prepared to acknowledge him as an equal, stiU less to bow to him as a superior, and the magistrate with whom he had to do was not prepared to enter into partnership with him on such terms. Social liberty is possible only as the civil power is supreme for civU purposes . over aU persons and causes whatsoever. progress of It happened while this dispute between Becket and the depute. jjenry was jn pr0gress, that a priest in Worcester was charged with seducing a young woman, and with having murdered her father, because he had presumed to remonstrate. Becket would not suffer even this miscreant to be delivered to the king's justice.* He found, however, that this high-handed policy was not acceptable either to the court or the country. At length, he promised to assent to the new regulations. But when required to do so publicly and formally, to the surprise of all present, he refused. The indignation of the king and of the parliament was great. Prelates and knights entreated him to submit, and when per suasion had proved fruitless, the anger expressed, and the show of weapons, were such as to menace the life of the ; obnoxious primate. Becket promised his signature once more. On the morrow, when this should have been given, he again refused, and declared Becket ap-; that he should remove his cause to the court of peals to -r-> Home. Rome. The source of this last decision is not difficult to dis cover. Becket had accepted the office of primate, knowing the intentions of the king, and he was now using that office to frustrate those intentions. Enough had happened to show that so deep was Henry's sense Stephan. 33. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 401 of injury, that no measure of concession in the future book iii. would now suffice to repair the mischiefs of the past. ClIAP' 5" From this point, in consequence, the struggle became desperate — a struggle, not for compromise or ad justment, so much as for victory. Henry might rely on his kingly authority, on the loyalty of his barons, and on the adhesion of many of the clergy. Becket hoped to oppose to this power the religious prepos sessions ofthe age, the spiritual thunders ofthe papacy, and the jealousies, possibly, of foreign courts. So fixed and deep was the resentment of Henry, that more than one attempt of Becket to soften him had been repulsed. The impeachment of the archbishop which foUowed, in the parliament of Northampton, made it clear that the king meditated nothing less than his deposition. But the passions of Henry hur ried him to excess. His proceedings began to bear the aspect of persecution. Becket knew that the scale was turning in his favour. In their perplexity the bishops had urged that the matter should be sub mitted to the judgment of the pope. Becket saw the advantage of this proposal, and appealed gladly from the judgment of the king, the parliament, and even of his own bishops, to the decision of the pontiff* It was in disguise, and with much difficulty, that the His flight. primate now made his escape to the Continent. But the pope, to the great mortification of the fugitive, was not eager to espouse his cause. The pontiff knew that the antecedents of Becket were far from being in harmony with his present saintly pretensions. The issue of such a quarrel in such hands seemed doubtful. Much, too, there was, both in the position and in the personal character of the king of England, to consti tute him a formidable antagonist. Hence, when Becket sent his deputies to Rome, praying that he might be aUowed to appear before the pontiff in his * Acta Concil. Labbe, vi. 1610, 161 1. Gervase, Chron. 1386-1392. Quadril. 23-27. Stephanides, 35-38. I D D 402 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. own cause, to his surprise, his presence there was fOr- HAP' s" bidden — lessons on moderation were read to him, and he was commended to the care of the abbot of Pon- tigny, that in the garb of a Cistercian monk he might conform for a time to the ascetic discipline of that order. Apparent After six years of exile, a hollow truce was con- «onnbe-ia" eluded between Becket and Henry. This took place in HenT and Normandy. Becket suspected the king's sincerity, and Becket. his own restless passions had been rather embittered than softened by his years of exile and adversity.* Beckers Much had been done during his absence, both ceeiSgs1!™' hy prelates and laymen, in defiance of his authority, and one of his first acts after his apparent restoration was to send into England a series of excommunica tions which he had obtained from Rome, against the parties who had thus offended him. On Christmas day he added other anathemas to these, reading them himself with great bitterness of emphasis from the cathedral pulpit. In these proceedings there was an open violation of some of the conditions of peace on which the king had insisted as indispensable. Henry was still in Normandy. But tidings of these things reached him, and led him to bewail aloud the life of inquietude to which he seemed to be doomed so long as this troubler of his dominions should be allowed to live. Certain of his attendants put their own con struction on this language. The Nor- Several knights secretly withdrew from the court, kSghts and reached Canterbury by different roads. Becket, make their jf we may credit the accounts given by his partisans, in canter- faced the threatening aspect of these men unmoved — hmj" first in his own apartment, and afterwards in the cathedral. Their demand was that he should remove the sentences of excommunication which he had pro nounced since his return on the bishops who had * His letters show this : see passages from them in Turner's Hist. i. 260—266. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 403 taken part with the king. This, he sternly refused, book hi. except as they should promise that obedience to the °HAI>' 5' determinations of the church which had hitherto been demanded from them in vain. The haughty tone and manner of this reply, and a rude thrust of one of the knights to a distance from his person, provoked the first blow. The wound inflicted by it was slight. But it was foUowed by a second, and a third, from Death of other hands, and Becket lay a dead man at the foot Becket' of the altar. We scarcely need remind the reader, how by reason of this foul deed Becket rose from his true level, as an ambitious ecclesiastic, to the fictitious rank of a saint and a martyr ; and how amidst the storm of reproba tion poured, forth on the perpetrators of this deed, Henry was constrained to do a base penance at the Henry's tomb of his old antagonist. tio™1 "*" Popular feeling, it is evident, was often in favour of Popular Becket, especiaUy towards the close of his career. If &tour of not more than half an Englishman, the feehng was that Beoket' he was not a Norman. He was the first man not of that race who had risen to eminence and power since the Conquest, and his battle had been a battle with a proud Norman king. It is probable that these facts had some influence on the old Saxon feeling of the country, though Becket himself never appealed to any such feeling. The Saxons had seen the Normans use the English church to then own purposes, and it may not have been unpleasant to them to see retribution spring up from that quarter. It should be remem bered also, that through, the Middle Age, the influence of the clergy had been generaUy felt by the people to be favourable, in many ways, to an amelioration of their condition. With aU their faults, the abbot and the bishop Were, in general, better masters than the knight or the baron. It is true, in the Becket con troversy, the bishops were mostly with the king ; but the answer of the Saxon would be, that they were aU alien bishops, and sycophants .to the alien power which D D 2 404 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. had advanced them. The most obvious source, how- — !_ ' ever, of the popular sympathy in favour of Becket, is to be found in the superstition of the age. Result of But in the person of Becket the last man of that de- trover^, scription passed away from our history. The Wilfrids and Odos, the Dunstans and Anselms of the past, had prepared the way for the appearance of such a man ; but such men are from this time men of the past. Our English kings have still to guard then rights against the encroachments of the papacy, but in Eng land, the mitre does not again attempt to divide empire with the crown. Wolsey was the servant of his king. His ambition was that of a statesman. The policy of Laud was more priestly. But it was not disloyal. Its object was to exalt the power of the crown at the cost of the liberties of the people. Henry suspended his reforms, but the battle had been fought, and the victory proved in the end to have been won. change in The ambition and venality of the court of Rome andPinflu^ had become notorious to aU men. Its anathemas had p"^,0^*^ lost much of their power. Men began to breathe more freely. Every .day, the natural sense of right in society, seemed to be growing stronger, and the eccle siastical sophistries opposed to that feeling were be coming less available. The subsequent conduct of the papacy in exacting feudal homage from king John, and in condemning the Great Charter, and the men who had combined to secure it, deepened the disaffec tion towards that power. Its aims wiU soon cease to be those of a lofty ambition. Its love of money, and of the agreeable things which money may command, is about to become its master passion. state of re- Concerning the state of religion among the people, ing this while such strifes were perpetuated by its ministers, penod. we p0Ssesg little direct information. The inferior class of the Saxon clergy who wTere allowed to retain their livings after the . Conquest, would probably be assiduous in teaching and consoling their countrymen through the evd time* that had come upon them. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 405 But the Norman clergy, while possessed of all the book iii. places of influence, were ignorant of the language of C"AP" 5' the people, and could neither teach them themselves, nor know when they were taught by others. Nor was this incompetency of short duration. The foreigners were without affection* either for the people, or for the tongue spoken by them. When more than a hundred clergymen were beheved to have been guilty of homicide within the space of ten years, the order must have sunk very low, and the religious feeling that could have tolerated such enormities must have been such as we can hardly imagine. If this was the state of affairs under such a king as Henry II., what must have been the condition of things under Stephen ? We look back to the reigns of the Conqueror and Henry I. as intervals of comparative order. But these terms could be applied only partially to the reign of WUham ; and in the reign of Henry, Anselm, pious as he no doubt was, had become too much committed to disputes with the king, to have time left in which to do much for the piety of the people. The fact that Henry II. should have deemed it advisable and safe to raise such a man as Becket to the primacy, sug gests much concerning the religious ideas of the age — for even those who learnt to worship the archbishop as a saint and a martyr, were bound to confess that his sanctity must have come to him after his elevation, the evidence of its existence before that event being whoUy wanting. In short, there is scarcely anything on the surface of ecclesiastical affairs through the whole of this period to lead us to think favourably of the piety that might be found beneath. Nevertheless, we can beheve that piety was there. The heart of man, and especiaUy the heart of woman, wiU crave the religious in some form, and examples of the most unselfish virtue, and of sincere religious feeling, may often be found where the superficial least expect to find them. In such circumstances, a spiritual chemistry may be at work, sufficient to extract for 406 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. itself enough of nutriment to sustain a truly religious HAP" 5" life, from the midst of elements which may seem to be rather poisonous than wholesome. As nearly five hundred religious houses made their appearance in England under these early Norman kings, we must suppose the action of strong religious feeling some where. Most of those foundations were rural esta blishments. To find them, you have to follow the course of rivers and streams, and to penetrate into the winding and often obscure valleys of the country. Then inmates, it must be remembered, consisted mainly of pious women, who had not found happi ness in the relations in which women ordinarily find it ; or of men from the ranks of the laity, to whom the experiences of this life, or the hope of a better, have been such as to dispose them to covet the seclu sion and constraint of such a home. Every such esta blishment was a hospitable resting-place to the travel ler ; a school for those who would be skilled in agri culture ; one of the few places where books might be found, and education obtained; a pattern of what might be done by association and order ; and a local power and authority, which, without statute or canon to plead in support of its usage, arbitrated differences, and promoted harmony among the surrounding population.* * In many cases, authority in civil matters was given to the abbey or monastery by royal charter, as to the towns of those times. Thus the Chronicle of Battle Abbey records : ' The men of the town, on account of the very great dignity of the place, are called burgesses. If these in any way deviate from customary right, and be sued for penalties, the cause shall be tried before the abbot or monks, or their deputies, and upon conviction they shall pay a fine of 50 shillings, according to the royal custom, and give a bond at the discretion of the president. When a new abbot comes to office, the burgesses shall pay him ioo shillings for their liberties.' (20, 21.) The same record describes certain services — as work in the meadow and the mill, and making malt, which the townsmen and others were to render to the abbey on certain equitable conditions. Many persons, it is said, were brought out of the neighbouring counties, and some from beyond seas, to hold the abbey lands, and ' to prepare them selves habitations, according to the distribution of the abbots and monks.' — Ibid. 32. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 407 Concerning the good general influence of monasteries book nii in the space of English history now under review, Chap" ,5, there is no room to doubt : but concerning the reli gion to be found in them we cannot speak with the same confidence. We have evidence that the reli gious feeling in such communities did not necessarily include anything distinctively Christian — anything beyond a pagan sort of reverence for some patron saint.* But though we see that the communistic in terests of such a brotherhood might be rigorously sus tained, with scarcely anything really Christian to sus tain it, we have proof that the piety existing in such connexions was often deeply sincere, and much more scriptural than might have been expected, f We have said that books were to be found in the English monas teries, and, we may add, that commonly they were books there to be read, and that among them, in most instances, was a Bible, or at least portions of the Scrip tures. In those days, no one attempted to set up the authority of the sacred writings against the authority of the church, and any one, accordingly, having access to the Vulgate, and capable of reading it, was at liberty to read it, either in whole or in part, f * Chronica Jocelini de Brakelonda. Camden Society. 1 840. No thing could well be more heathenish than the picture of convent life fur nished by this long narrative,, the narrative in which our contemporary Mr. Carlyle has found so much to interest him. f Maitland on the Dark Ages, a book which should be read, though not less one-sided than the books it censures. X To the negative piety of the abbot Sampson in the Jocelin Chronicle we may oppose the more Christian goodness of Odo, prior of Canterbury, who became abbot of Battle in 1175. The following description relates to him from the time of his entrance on the last-named office. It is written by a contemporary and an eye-witness, and subject no doubt to the attes tation of the house. ' Now he began to be more devout than ever in his prayers, more ardent in divine contemplations, more frequent in his vigils, more energetic in exhortations, and in works worthy of imitation, and more frequent in preaching ; thus becoming a pattern to all of a holy life in word and deed. His hospitality knew no respect of persons. The abbey gates stood open for all comers who needed refreshment or lodging. For those persons whom the rule of the establishment forbade to sleep 408 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. With regard to towns and cities, every centre of Chap" 5' that description became, in those early times, a large Prop-ess of free-school, in which the artisan and the trader contri- in towns, buted day by day to the education of each other. It was in those places, as we .find all over Europe, that men first began to question the truth of the received dogmas of religion, and the sanctity of usages con nected with them. And it should be marked, as a significant fact, that this tendency towards scepticism never came alone — religious faith and religious feel ing of some kind, often branded as heresy, never faded to come up beside it. The restlessness thus indicated was not so much on the side of no religion, as on the side of something better. Evidence enough on this point will present itself as we come lower down in our annals. UntU the beginning of the thirteenth century the towns of England were in the hands of the secular, or parochial clergy, who were obliged to adapt themselves in a measure to the growing ten dencies of feeling and thought among townsmen. Thirty men It was during the reign, of Hemy II. that a small dufalcon" band of strangers made their appearance in England demned whose religious singularities soon attracted the at- tention of the clergy. They consisted of about thirty men and women, and spoke the German language. within the abbey, he provided entertainment without the circuit of its walls. In all divine offices in the abbey, in reading and in meditation, he associated with the brethren in the cloisters ; be took his food in the refectory ; in short, he was as one of themselves. In his carriage, his actions, and his habits, there was nothing of pride, nothing that savoured of levity. As to his expositions of the Holy Scriptures, and his treatises, whatever the subject, and whether reduced to writing or preached for the edification of his hearers — sometimes in Latin, sometimes in French, and often for the benefit of the unlearned common people in the mother tongue — he was so lucid, so eloquent, and so agreeable to all, that what appeared obscure, or had been but imperfectly handled by the ancient doctors, he rendered perfectly intelligible. And the devotion of the faith ful was excited so much the more, because they saw that he did not preach one thing and practise another ; for what he uttered with his lips he carried into effect in his conduct.' — Chronicle of Battle Abbey, translated by Mark Antony Lower, M.A., 178, 179. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO THE CHURCH. 409 One of their number, named Gerard, was recognised book iii. by them as their pastor. Gerard was a man of HAP' 5' learning, and answered for the rest. But as we know nothing of these people except as they are de scribed by their enemies and persecutors, it is not easy to speak with certainty concerning their religious opinions. It is clear, however, that they professed themselves believers in the doctrine of the apostles ; that they did not beheve in the invocation of saints, in the existence of purgatory, or in the efficacy of prayers for the dead ; that on these grounds they were condemned as heretics in a council at Oxford ; that they were publicly whipped through the streets of that city ; and, stripped of nearly the whole of their clothing, in the depth of winter, were turned into the open country, under an interdict which forbade all persons, on pain of excommunication, to render them the shghtest assistance. They all died a lin gering death from cold and want ! So began the punishment of death on account of rehgious opinions in our history. This was in 1159.* * Guil. Newbrig. lib. ii. c. 13. Brompton Col. 1050. CHAPTER VI. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. book iii. npHE immediate effect of the Conquest must have — — ' _L been greatly injurious to industry. For a while, effect'of'the ^he reign of the Norman was a reign of terror. Pro- ontadust Perty was refined on sufferance. It is not usual for ' one man to sow with diligence when another may reap. Nor do we expect the -traffic of towns to prosper whUe the spoliator is at hand, and in a mood to appropriate the gains of an industry not his own. Much of the land of England passed into the hands of middle-men, who farmed it from the great land holders, and whose exactions were merciless. Whole counties in consequence ran almost to waste, and many of the best towns in England were more than half destroyed. Gradual But it became the conquerors, for their own sake, ord"™0 to put some limit to these devastations, and to do something towards giving the security of law to person and property. By degrees the lands of England are again brought under cultivation, and the country which, as found by the Conqueror, was described by his followers as •' a storehouse of Ceres,'* is found again producing so much corn as to dispose its owners to pay a tax to the king for permission to export it.f But the tax received for the export of corn was smaU compared with that levied on the exports of tin and lead. The lead with which all large buddings in the neighbouring continent were covered was obtained * Guil. Pictav. no. t Madox, Hist. Ex. c. xiii. 323, xviii. 530. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 411 chiefly from England. The mines of Devon and book hi. Cornwall soon came to be an important source of CHAP" 6' revenue.* Slaves and horses were alike articles of merchandize in England at this time. The slaves, or serfs attached to the soil, might be sold as chattels in the market-place at the pleasure of their owner ; and parents unable or unwiUing to support their children, might dispose of them in the same manner. Strange enough, it was to the Irish chiefly that the English slave-dealer of the twelfth century sold his human commodities. In noa, a law was passed which pro hibited ' this wicked trade of selling men in markets ' like brute beasts.' But the traffic, if somewhat checked, was still carried on.f Much more legitimate was the trade of our good ancestors in wool, wooUen yarn, and leather. Considerable sums were paid annually to the crown for hcence to export these articles. The troubled state of England during the thirteenth cen tury was unfavourable to this department of produc tion. Much of the wool of England was sent in those days into Flanders, to be there woven into cloth. J The imports to be placed over against these exports, imports. were French wines, § spices and drugs from the East, linen, silks, tapestries, and furs ; besides metals — gold, silver, hon, and steel. Corn also was largely imported in times of scarcity, and lodged in ware houses on the Thames. II The wine merchants sold * Madox. Hist. Excheq. xviii. 530, 331. Rymer, Fcedera, i. 243. f Eadmer. iii. 68. Girald. Cambrens Hibernia Expugnat. i. c. 18. Rymer, i. 90. Liber Niger Scaccarii, art. Danegeldo. When Henry II. invaded Ireland all tbe English slaves were manumitted, the clergy having declared that the calamities which had come upon them were the punish ment ofthe sin of having purchased them. — Wilkins, Concil. i. 470. X Anderson's History of Commerce, a.d. 1 1 7 2. There is evidence tbat broadcloths were made in England in the time of Eichard I. — Ibid. a.d. 1 197. Madox, Hist. Excheq. c. xviii. § England produced its own wines from the grape at this time. — Madox, c. x. Anderson, a.d. 1140, 1154- || Madox, c. xviii. Considerable effort was made in the reign of Eichard I. to establish a strict uniformity of weights and measures 412 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. Tbe marts —the CinquePorts. book nt. their merchandize in their ships, or in ceUars near the HAP" river ;* and Hoveden, a contemporary, assures us that, by the licence given to this article of importation, " the land was filled with drink and drunkards.'! The rich sdks worn by ladies of rank, and the tapestries and other ornaments wi£h which the apartments of the wealthy were decorated, were mostly of foreign manufacture. J The great marts of the twelfth century were of course in the great towns and cities. The Cinque' Ports — Hastings, Dover, Hythe, Romney, and Sand wich — were vested with special privileges, on con dition of their supplying the king, when required, with a stipulated force in shipping and seamen. Several other seaports were admitted to the same privUeges on the same conditions. But the ' five ports' continued to be recognised as the ' five ports,' the other places being reckoned as auxiliaries to them. The great ports of this period, however, were London and Bristol. But Rochester, Warwick, Yarmouth, Lynn, Lincoln, Grimsby, Waynfleet, Boston, and Stamford were aU places of much commercial importance. The same may be said of Tork, untd the massacre of the Jews there in the time of Richard I., an event which brought a desolation upon that city from which it never more than partially recovered. $ The Conquest filled the land with foreign soldiers, and was an inlet to foreigners of all descriptions, The Jews. throughout the kingdom. The penalty for offence in this matter was that the offender should be imprisoned, ' his chattels seised to the king's use,' and that he should not be set at liberty ' except by our lord the king, or his chief justice.' One other provision in this statute, shows further, the doubtful morality sometimes to be found among the buyers and sellers of this period. ' It is furthermore forbidden to . any trader throughout the whole kingdom, to hang up before his shop red or black cloths, or penthouses, or anything else, by means of which the sight of the purchaser is often deceived in choosing a good cloth.' — Hoveden, a.d. i 197. * Fitz-Stephen, _$, 6. f Annals, 433. X Anderson's Hist. Com. a.d. 1130, 1170. § Camden, Brit. i. 2J4. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 413 especiaUy to the foreign merchant. The Jews were book hi. among the first to seize on the new opening for traffic. ClIAP' 6' They were soon to be found in all places of trade.* In the Jew, the intelligence which has distinguished the Caucasian race was shut up to one thing — to trade, and, especially to money-lending, and no marvel if their skiU in such matters was such as to distance aU competition. Such was the fact. They were spread like a network over Europe, in constant com munication with each other, and always in command of capital. No men knew so well how to buy in the cheapest market, and how to sell in the dearest. But their gains were not without drawbacks. On com mercial grounds, as well as on rehgious grounds, they were most unpopular. In the charters of some towns — as in Newcastle -on-Tyne and Derby — it was stipu lated that no Jews should be aUowed to settle or trade in them. Hated by the people, they were wholly at the mercy of the crown. The law which extended pro tection to other foreigners, did not extend it to them. The king could exact from them at pleasute, could seize their persons as well as their property, and deal with them as with slaves. Often were they compelled by torture to reveal and surrender their treasures. Even despotism, however, has its limits. It is checked by sheer selfishness in its tendency to cut down the tree that it may get at the fruit, f But the Jews of England, like their fathers inEgypt, seemed to multiply and pros per the more they were oppressed. PrivUeges were fre quently granted them, but large sums were paid in pur chase of those privileges, and as the price from time to time of their continuance. In 1290, the Jews were banished from England, and much of their property passed to the crown. It should not be concealed that one cause of the great unpopularity of the Jews was the Shylock severity with which they treated their debtors. J * Anderson's Hist. Com. a.d. 1100. t Montesquieu. X The seventh chapter in Madox, intitled ' Of the Exchequer of the Jews,' contains much curious information in relation to this people. ' In 414 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. In London, merchants were resident, from nearly aU HAP"-"' nations, before the close of this period, among whom merchants ^e Germans and Italians were conspicuous. Nearly all the products of the East which reached this distant island of the West, were imported by Italians. One company, or guild, of Italian merchants, bore the name of the Caursini. Some of these Caursini brought great odium on their guild, by acting as collectors of revenue for the court of Rome.* The Germans were great importers of steel, and had a yard or quay near the river for the deposit of their merchandize. They were known, in consequence, as the company of the " Steel-yard, f Other nations had their respective quar ters near the Thames, where their different commo dities were lodged. The internal trade of the country was conducted mostly by natives, either Saxons or Normans. The foreign commerce was left mainly in the hands of foreigners. { Regulations The Anglo-Norman kings issued many laws for the trade™" ° protection and encouragement of trade. Ship-budding and seamanship were objects of special patronage. The custom of ' wrecking' appears to have been general and inveterate. The first two Henries sent forth stringent regulations on this subject, enforced by heavy penalties. Care also was taken to revise and regulate the coinage. Privileges were granted to many guUds and companies, which, though partaking too much, according to modern ideas, of the nature of monopolies, and being too much a matter of sale by the sum, the king seemed to. be absolute lord of their estates and effects, and of the persons of them, of their wives and children.' — Hist. Excheq. cvii. p. i jo. See also Anderson's Hist. Com. a.d. iioo, 1160, 1189, 1 190, 1 199, 1208. Matt. Paris, a.d. 1210, 1239, 1254, 1255. * Anderson's Hist. Com. passim. Matt. Westmin. an. 1 233. Matt. Paris, an. 1235, 1251. f Anderson, A.D. 1200. X The charter granted to Bristol in 1168, contains some harsh provi sions against the foreign trader, and shows that the English merchants were beginning to think themselves strong enough to conduct foreign traffic for themselves. — Anderson, a.d. 1168. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 415 crown for its own immediate advantage, were never- book hi. theless favourable to enterprise in those times, by Chap' "' furnishing the necessary security to the outlay of capital.* Such are some of the facts which lie on the surface of history touching the industrial hfe of the English under our early Norman kings. But we naturally wish to know something more of the past than lies upon the surface. We would fain be present in the homestead of the husbandman, in the workshop of the artisan, by the fireside of the burgess, amidst the traffic of the market-place, and, above aU, where there are gatherings of the townsmen for public purposes, if there were such gatherings. Unfortunately our authorities suggest, rather than supply, pictures of this description. One scene of this nature, revealing the passions which influenced the Norman and Saxon, or at least the ruling and the ruled populations of London, in the time of Richard I., has been transmitted to us. It is a story which has its discrepancies, but its substance can be verified, and it may assist us in judging of the manner in which the same social tendencies were developing themselves in other cities. In 1196 Richard I. was at war with the king of Fate of France. To meet the expenses of this war, an extra- Fitz. osbert, ordinary tax was laid on the citizens of London. The L^gbeard. authorities ofthe city assembled as usual to deliberate on the mode of raising the sum required. Those authorities were mostly foreigners — the richer mer chants, as weU as the great landholders, being nearly aU Normans, or men of Anjouan descent. It was for some time a privilege of this class that they should be wholly exempt from the tallages laid on the cities or towns in which they resided. But after a whUe the crown ceased to recognise this distinction. The king required the town or city to raise a certain sum, leav- * Madox, c. x. Anderson, a.d. 1180. 416 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. ing the manner of raising it to be determined by the J!lflf' municipal functionaries. But such was the course taken by these functionaries, that the public burdens continued to fall heavUy on the poor, and only lightly on the rich.* In London, however, there were some Englishmen who had become wealthy and influential. Several of these had their place in the corporation. One of their number named William Fitz-Osbert, had become very popular as the defender of the rights of the poor against the favouritisms of the rich. After the battle of Hastings, many of the more sturdy Saxons resolved never to shave their beard again. WiUiam was one of those who retained that badge of nationality. Hence the name, by which he is best known, is that of WiUfam the Longbeard. He availed himself of all legal means, for the protection of the weak, against the unjust impositions of the strong. He studied both Norman and English law carefully for this purpose. His money, and his eloquence — with which he is said to have been largely gifted — were freely devoted to this object. The mayor and aldermen of London had sometimes decided that the tax to be raised should be levied on the person, and not on property, the rich and the poor paying the same sum. Longbeard had often protested against proceedings of this nature. The humbler and the middle class of citizens applauded him for so doing, as the friend of the poor, and the upholder of right. The ruling party — the ' aldermen' or ' maj ores,' as they were called, on the other hand, denounced him as a demagogue, as filling men's heads with mischievous notions about equality and liberty. board's op- ^n 1 1 9^> the ProPosal in the municipal council was, position as heretofore, that the sum required by the king should magnates, be raised in a manner which placed the great burden of it on the shoulders of the poor. Longbeard, though * Ailredus Beivallensis, 6gi. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 417 he stood nearly alone, resisted this proposal. The book hi. majority denounced him as a traitor. ' Not so,' was CriAP' g" his reply, ' you rather are the traitors, who defraud ' the exchequer of the king of what you know you owe ' him, and I will myself see that the king shaU ' not be in ignorance of your doings.'* Longbeard had served under Richard, as a Crusader. He now crossed the sea, and presented himself to the king in his tent, casting himself at his feet, and imploring him to give protection to his injured subjects. The king promised that the matter should be attended to, but soon became too much occupied in other ways to remember his pledge. In the meanwhile, the enemies of Longbeard in Eng land were not inactive. Hubert, archbishop of Can terbury, and justiciar of the kingdom, stood amazed and indignant at the effrontery of the man who had dared to appeal to the king against men of the Nor man race. In his wrath, he went so far as to forbid any commoner passing beyond the walls of the capital without permission — the offender to be accounted a traitor to the king and kingdom. Some London traders took their usual journey to Stamford fair without this permission, and were thrown into prison. Great was the ferment with which London was filled on this account. The citizens formed themselves into associations, numbering, it is said, some 50,000 per sons, to uphold the policy of Longbeard. Weapons of every available kind were said to have been col lected, wherewith to resist the arms, or to demolish the fortified houses, of their enemies, should they be assaded. Crowds assembled in public places, in markets, and in the open ah, to set forth then grievances. * Matt. Paris, 127. Prom baronial emblem, the hawk on fist, assumed by Pitz-Ailwyn, an alderman of London, there seems to be ground for the opinion that the aldermen of the metropolis once ranked with barons. — Bolls and Becords, Introd. § xxiii. This fact helps further to account for the ill-feeling evidently subsisting between the ruling class and tbe citizens. I E E 418 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. On these occasions, Longbeard was the great orator. chapes. -g--g gpgggj^g appear to have been at times intention ally obscure, but his auditory would attach clearer and more practical ideas to his expressions than the terms used by him seem adapted to convey. So serious was this posture of affairs, that it at tracted the attention ofthe parliament which' assembled at this juncture in London. Longbeard was summoned to appear before it, which he did, followed by thou sands of people, who cheered him loudly on his way. The popular feeling manifested was deemed so formid able, that the consideration of the case was adjourned, and the justiciar and the ' maj ores' sought to accomplish their object by intrigue. The primate of all England, and other men of high rank, condescended to harangue the lower classes of citizens in different meetings, reminding them of their danger, and endeavouring to soften them by fair words. Deceived by the repre sentations made to them, the citizens were induced to give hostages for the public peace. This done, the magnates became ascendant. Fate of The hostages were sent to different fortresses at Longbeard. gome distance from the city. Measures were then taken to seize Longbeard. His steps were watched many days, that he might be apprehended if possible when alone — so probable was it that resistance would otherwise be made in his favour. Two citizens, with the requisite force at their disposal, undertook this service. At length, they found Longbeard abroad, with not more than nine of his friends near him. They accosted the party in an easy and familiar manner, when Geoffrey, one of the two, and an old enemy of Longbeard, attempted to seize him, while the other shouted to the armed men, who were within call, to advance. Longbeard drew the poniard then usuaUy worn in the girdle, and with one blow laid Geoffrey dead. The struggle which ensued between the friends of Longbeard and their maded assadants was un equal ; but, by some means, Longbeard and his friends THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 419 gained possession of a church, and closed it against book m then pursuers. The citizens, taken by surprise, dis- °HAr' 6' mayed and trembling for the safety of their hostages, did not fly promptly to the rescue. In the mean whUe, the justiciar and his adherents assembled in great numbers. Hubert was one of those Norman prelates who were not only prepared to add the re- sponsibUities of the highest civil authority to those of the episcopate, but to assume the sword and helmet in the open field. Longbeard and his friends, despair ing of safety in the church, had taken possession of the tower, from which it was impossible to dislodge them. The archbishop, aware that time was precious, issued orders that the whole building should be set on fire. His command was obeyed, and Longbeard and his associates, in attempting to make their way from amidst the flames and smoke, were all taken. As they passed, bound, along the street, Longbeard received ' a stab from the weapon of a son of that Geoffrey who had faUen a little before by his hand. In this state, the captured leader was tied to the tail of a horse, and dragged through the streets to the gate of the Tower. Sentence was there pronounced upon him, as he lay, by the archbishop, as jus ticiar, and the wounded man was then dragged, in the same manner, to the place of execution at Tyburn. ' So,' says Matthew Paris, ' perished WiUiam Long- ' beard, for endeavouring to uphold the cause of right ' and of the poor. If it be the cause that makes the ' martyr, no man may be more justly described as a ' martyr than he.'* The people, though they had failed him in his hour popular of need, showed aU possible signs of affection for his ^5?^ memory. The wood on which he suffered was borne- * Wendover, a.d. 1195. Matt. Paris, 127. Guil. Newbr. 630-633. Gervas. Cant. 1591. Hoveden, a.d. 1196. Thierry, bk. xi. 270-285. Bolls and Becords, edited by Sir Francis Palgrave, Introduction, viii. et seq. E E 2 420 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. away at night, separated into innumerable fragments, chains, g^ presei.ve(j as hardly less sacred than the wood of the true cross. Even the earth which the wood had touched was removed as having become sacred, until a hollow was formed in the place ; and the crowds which assembled there to meditate or pray were such, that archbishop Hubert issued orders that they should be dispersed at the point of the sword. Only by fixing a constant guard upon the spot could the recurrence of such scenes be prevented. Even miracles were said to have been wrought on the spot which the blood of the friend of the weak and oppressed had made holy. The wrongs ofthe Londoners were wrongs endured more or less elsewhere, and the feeling of the Lon doners in this instance was the feeling of the bulk of the people in other towns and cities. During many coming years, no Saxon patriot made a journey to the capital without doing pilgrimage to the spot where Longbeard had died his patriot death. Names may change, but principles and passions continue the same. We find the germ of the true commonalty, and of the true liberties of England, in such instances of resist ance, misguided, faulty, and ill-fated, in many respects, as they may have often been. In English history, the civic spirit was to become stronger than the feudal ; but to give that turn to the balance between these two powers, has required a large expenditure . of thought, and effort, and self-sacrifice, extending through seven centuries.* * Longbeard's friends were men whose names bespoke their Saxon origin, and his history is an illustration of the antagonism existing, not so much between rich and poor, as between Saxon and Norman. Sir Francis Palgrave remarks, that amidst the dry technicalities of our court records, it is easy to discover particulars which show the condition of society. ' A female, the wife of William le Parmenter, of Westminster, is designated in the pleadings as Sna-wit, or Snow-white, and also as Swan-hilda. Both these names are evidently epithets derived from the beauty of her complexion, and equivalent to each other. And they also show how purely the common people were still Anglo-Saxon in language and mode of THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 421 It was thus that the industrial and city life of our book iii. ancestors proved favourable to their political power, CHAP' s' and not less to their general intellectual culture — a phase of the revolution of this period that must not be overlooked. The half century which preceded the Norman Con- intellectual quest was a space of comparative tranquillity in Eng- England hsh history. It is true, the ascendency of a Danish ^ol. m* dynasty was the ascendency of a race inferior to the Saxons themselves in cultivation. The security, how ever, which prevaded, was favourable to a partial restoration of educational institutions in the cathedrals and monasteries ; and the first dawn of light which was to foUow may, perhaps, be traced to that remote period.* The Norman kings were most of them disposed to Patronage patronize learning. The Conqueror himself, when, by the Nor- the crisis of the new settlement was over', showed r some liberality in this direction. His son Henry was known, from his decided literary tastes, by the name of Beauclerc — the scholar. Henry II. was a man of scarcely less culture, and placed his sons under the best preceptors the age could furnish. These reigns embrace the whole space from 1066 to 1316, with the exception of the twenty-two years divided between Rufus and Stephen. The Conqueror founded two famous abbeys — Battle mans. thought ; for the expressions thus employed have all the spirit and tbe form of the poetry of their remote northern ancestors. But with respect to the upper classes, and those immediately connected with them, we may equally discern the influence df the foreign tongue in other names not less significant.' — Bolls and Becords, Introduction, xxxv. * Just before this interval Oswald, archbishop of York, found the monasteries of his province so extremely ignorant, not only in the common elements of grammar, but even as to tbe rules of their orders, that he sent to France for teachers to instruct them. With this deterioration in such establishments, of course, there had come a general deterioration of mind and manners. — Warton's Introduction of Learning into England, cxl. But from about the close of the tenth century, not only England, but Europe, began to give signs of the approach of better days. 422 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. and Selby, and many smaller convents, which, in chapes. ^ose days, would all be places of education. His son Henry was educated in the abbey of Abingdon, under the care of the abbot Grymbold, and of Faricius, a physician, who taught at Oxford.* The clergy intro duced by the Conqueror owed everything to his favour, and were expected to be subservient to his wiU. But some of them were men of learning, and did much to diffuse a taste for literature in their new connexions. Herman, who became bishop of Sahsbury, founded an excellent library in his cathedral. Godfrey, prior of St. Swithin's in Winchester, was an elegant Latin poet. Herbert de Losinga, a monk of Normandy, who became bishop of Thetford in Norfolk, instituted an abbey in Norwich for Benedictine monks, and largely endowed it.f A learned foreigner, named Geoffrey, who had studied in Paris, opened a school at Dunstable, which became famous. In short, the nobles and prelates so far vied with their kings in the encouragement of the religious and literary tendencies of the times, that, as before stated, between five and six hundred monasteries, all designed to be more or less places of instruction, made their appearance in England in the time between the Conquest and the reign of king John. J Layschoois. Nor were all the schools of this period clerical schools. In London, St. Albans, and other places, laymen began to make their appearance as educators. § Some of these private schools were what we should describe as grammar-schools. In others the higher de partments of science were studied. Fitz-Stephen, who * Wood's Hist. 46. f Warton's Introd. cxliii. X Tanner, Notitia Monastiea, Pref. § Matt. Paris, Vit. Abbot. 56—62. Brompton, Chron. 1348. Hove den, 589. Dupin, Eccles. Hist. cent. xiii. Tanner, Not. Monast. Pref. The most eminent scholars England produced, before and even below the twelfth century, were educated in our religious houses. The encouragement given in the English monasteries to the transcribing of books was very considerable. — Warton's Introd. cxliv. Of this Warton has given a series of proofs, THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 423 wrote in the time of Henry II., gives us the following book hi. account ofthe 'holiday' doings of certain schools for Chap' 6' youth in London in his time. ' It is usual,' he says, ' for these schools to hold public assemblies in the ' churches, in which the scholars engage in demonstra- ' tive or logical disputations, some using enthymems ' and others perfect syllogisms, some aiming at nothing ' but to gain the victory, and make an ostentatious ' display of their acuteness, while others have the in- ' vestigation of truth in view. Artful sophists on ' these occasions acquire great applause — some by a ' prodigious inundation and flow of words, others by ' their specious but faUacious arguments. After the ' disputations, other scholars dehver rhetorical declama- ' tions, in which they observe all the rules of art, and ' neglect no topic of persuasion. Some of the younger ' boys in the different schools contend against each ' other in verse, about the principles of grammar, and ' the preterites and supines of verbs.'* It is during this period that Oxford and Cambridge The univer- acquire an acknowledged place in history as seats of Sltiea* learning. In the time of Richard I. the University of Oxford is spoken of as men spoke of the University of Paris. Many English students studied in both seminaries. Among the eminent Englishmen who studied in Paris were Thomas a. Becket; Robert White, a scholar whose name bespeaks his Saxon origin, and who lectured with much applause in Oxford ; Nicholas Breakspear, who became pope under the title of Adrian the Fourth ; Robert of Melun, so called from his teach ing in that city, who became bishop of Hereford ; and, above aU these, the renowned John of Salisbury.! The school in Oxford was of some celebrity before the Conquest, possibly from the time of Alfred. In * W. Stephan. Civit. Lond. 4. Henry's Hist. Eng. vi. book iii. c. 4. + John of Salisbury spent some nine or ten years in Paris ; and, though much enamoured at first of the dialectics taught there, he lived to de nounce them with much bitterness, as leading to nothing better than ingenious trifling. — See his Metalogicus; 424 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. 1 109, about forty years after the Conquest, we find in Chap' 6' that city a street named School-street, and another named Shydiard-stxeet* — facts which suggest that Ox ford must have been conspicuous as a place of educa tion long before. The royal residence at Woodstock was favourable to its progress in this view, especially in the time of Henry I. It was in the middle of the twelfth century that Vicarius lectured on Civil Law in Oxford. Medicine was soon afterwards added to its course of studies. The fact that three thousand students migrated from Oxford in 1209, and the fact that quite that number is known to have been resident there not many years later, wiU suffice to indicate the eminence to which the University had then risen. In 1229 a considerable migration took place, both of students and teachers, from the University of Paris to the University of Oxford. f During the greater part of this period, the schools at Canterbury, St. Albans, Lincoln, Westminster, Winchester, and Peterborough were aU flourishing. But Oxford surpassed them, and was especially dis tinguished from them, as being independent in its origin — that is, it was not a growth from the cathe dral or conventual schools. In the schools last named, and from which nearly all the universities north of the Alps had their origin, the teachers were aU ecclesiastics, living as such on their stipends. But the lay teachers, who began to make their appearance at this time, were dependent for support on the fees of their pupUs, and being free from the control of the clergy, they extended the range of their teaching con siderably beyond that of the clerical preceptors by whom they had themselves been educated. % * Wood, Hist. Vicus Sckediasticorum. Huber's History of the English Universities, i. 47. t Huber's Hist. i. $2, note 10. It is not till tbe year 1200 that the school in Paris becomes an incorporation and a university. Crevier, Hist. de V TJniver. de Paris, i. 2 $$. X Huber's Hist. i. Introductory chapter and notes. 'Towards the THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 425 Places of residence known by the name of Inns and book hi. HaUs, existed in Oxford from the time of the Con- Chap" "' queror. These consisted mostly of hired buildings of a rude description. The first establishment entitled to the name of a coUege, as a foundation, perpetuated and privUeged bylaw, does not date earlier than 1264. But within little more than a century from that time, the greater part of the colleges in Oxford now known to us, were founded. The inns and haUs were 'simply voluntary schools. Colleges possessed endowments, a common residence, and a common table, at least to some extent, and the power, for the most part, of self- government.* In Cambridge, the most ancient college was founded in 1256, or, as some say, in 1274. The following account of the early days of Cambridge is given by Peter of Blois, about a century after the times to which it relates. The mention of Averroes in this descrip tion is an error — that philosopher flourished during the latter half of the twelfth century. But the sub stance of the description, though somewhat suspicious in its colouring, may, we tliink, be accepted as trust worthy. ' Joflrid, abbot of Croyland, sent to his manor of ' Cottenham, near Cambridge, Master Gislebert, his ' feUow-monk and professor of theology, with three ' other monks, who had foUowed him into England ; ' who being very well instructed in philosophical ' theorems and other primitive sciences, went every close of the tenth century an event took place which gave a new and a very fortunate turn to the state of letters in France and Italy. A little before that time there were no schools in Europe but those which belonged to the monasteries or the .episcopal churches. But at the commencement of the eleventh century, many persons ofthe laity, as well as of the clergy, undertook in the most capital cities of France and Italy this important charge.'— Warton's Introduct. cxli. This lay teaching came in with the Normans, but not immediately ; and as the universities rose, the monas teries fell, as places of education, and deteriorated considerably in all respects. * Huber's Hist. i. 426 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. BOOK III. Chap. 6. day to Cambridge, and having hired a certain public barn, taught the sciences openly, and in a little time collected a great concourse of scholars ; for in the very second year after their arrival the number of their scholars from the town and country increased so much that there was no house, barn, nor church capable of containing them. For this reason they separated into different parts of the town, and, imitating the plan ofthe Studium of Orleans; brother Odo, who was eminent as a grammarian and satirical poet, read grammar according to the doctrine of Priscian and of his commentator Remigius, to the boys and younger students that were assigned to him, early in the morning. At one o'clock brother Ter- ricus, a most acute sophist, read the Logic of Aris totle, according to the Introduction and Commentaries of Porphyry and xAverroes, to those who were further advanced. At three, brother William read lectures on Tully's Rhetoric and Quintilian's Institutes. But Master Gislebert, being ignorant of the English, but very expert in the Latin and French languages, preached in the several churches to the people on Sundays and holidays.'* With this picture of Cambridge in its early days, we may connect another relating to Oxford in the time of Richard I. Giraldus Cambrensis lived at that time ; and such was his passion for study, that he is said to have refused three bishoprics, to have spent twenty years in the University of Paris, and seven years in seclusion in England, that he might give himself effectually to such pursuits. His works were many, and on many subjects. Among them was a Topography of Ireland. This book the author is said to have recited on three successive days at Oxford. The first day to the poor of the city ; the second to the doctors and scholars of good standing ; the third to the body of the students, the citizens, and the soldiers Continuation of Ingulf . Henry's Eng. bk. iii. c. 4. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 427 of the garrison. It would be pleasant to caU up to book iii. the imagination the scenes of those three days — to °HAP' 6' look on the zealous Giraldus, enamoured of his theme, as he endeavours to lead the professors and students, citizens, soldiers, and working men, upon a travel through the sister island. It is probable that these recitations took place at a time when Giraldus and others passed to some degree — the season, when, in Oxford, as in other universities, the visitors who flocked to the town to share in its ceremonials and sight-seeing, its hospitalities and merriment, were such as often to exceed aU the ordinary means of accommo dation. So did the awakening of inteUectual hfe in those ages bring other signs of hfe along with it.* The East, as the passage touching the early days of influence of Cambridge indicates, was now contributing its trea- ture. sures to the West. The Moslems of Spain were in possession of all the Greek literature and science that had survived the faU of the Roman empire. The hght diffused from their many noble libraries, and their many seats of learning, had placed them far in advance of the Christian states of Europe. But the time had come in which the nations of the West were to share largely in those treasures. The most valuable Greek authors were translated into Latin, and passed, with profuse Latin commentaries, over the whole of Christendom, f By Moslem and by Christian, how ever, it was not so much the literature, as the science of the ancient world, that was especiaUy prized. Ma thematics, astronomy, chemistry, and medicine, toge ther with metaphysics, logic, and rhetoric — these were the favourite studies. The study of the Roman and Canon law was of course peculiar to the Christian states. With these tendencies came the ascendency of^8^8 Aristotle, the reign of the scholastic philosophy, and schoolmen. * Wood, Hist. Antiq. Oxon. 25. Warton's Introduct. clviii. f Warton's Introduct. cxli. 428 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. of the men known in history by the name of school- ' men. Alcuin, Erigena, Lanfranc, and Anselm, were all, in fact, schoolmen, long before scholasticism became known by that name ; and by their tastes, the taste of their times was materially influenced. The early fathers professed to base their theology on the Scriptures. Later writers made these fathers them selves their authority. The schoolmen endeavoured to sustain the orthodoxy of the church, and intelligence in general, by the aid of the rules and method of the Aristotelian dialectics. But Peter Lombard, the re puted founder of the scholastic philosophy, does not publish his famous Book of Sentences before the middle of the twelfth century ; and it was left to the' Master of the Sentences,' as he was called, to impart to the wider range of study which aimed at something much ' higher than the routine of the conventual schools, the system which was to characterize it for centuries to come. The logic of Aristotle was the instrument used in aU investigations. Everything to be admitted as knowledge, must bear to be tested by that method of proof. Physics and metaphysics feU alike under the same scrutiny, and theology became a science.* The time came when this philosophy proved a grand hindrance to knowledge, conclusions so established being deemed irrefragable. Such, however, they were not, for the reasoning in relation to them often rested on doubtful premises, and was in consequence itself doubtful. In its attempts to explain abstract ideas, and to give distinctness to them, this phUosophy was favourable to many subtle and acute forms of thought"; but it gave rise, at the same time, to much trifling, and taught men to make light of particular and avadable knowledge, in their eager pursuit of unwarranted gene ralizations and useless refinements. Of course, even such a movement was better than the preceding torpor * So successful was this study in Oxford, that 'before "the reign of Edward II. no foreign university could boast so conspicuous a catalogue of subtle and invincible doctors.' — Warton, Introduct. clxxv. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 429 ahd stagnation. It was the sign of hfe, and contri- book iii. buted to other ends than those contemplated by the CnAP' e' minds with which it originated. Now, accordingly, began those subtle disputations between Nominalists and Realists in England, which were to attract the attention and test the orthodoxy of kings and councils in France. Robert of Melun, bishop of Hereford, had distinguished himself as an opponent of the Nominal ists in the University of Paris. Now," -also, that series of Latin historians and annal- Angio-Nor. ists make their appearance, the bare enumeration of nans. whose works is enough to suggest the extent of lite rary activity that must have been awakened.* Of course this great increase of writers implies a propor tionate increase of readers. Classical learning, indeed, was not much cultivated, and was confined generally to a partial acquaintance with Latin authors. There were scholars who knew a httle of Hebrew and of Arabic, chiefly by the aid of Jewish teachers, but it is one of the extraordinary things reported of Abelard, that, to his other learning, he added some knowledge of Greek. Mathematics, too, according to John of Salisbury and Peter of Blois, were but httle studied, and chiefly from their supposed relation to astrology. * Such as William of Poitiers, Ordericus Vitalis, William of Ju mieges, Florence of Worcester, Matthew of Westminster, William of Malmesbury, Eadmer, Turgot, and Simeon of Durham, John of Hexham, Richard of Hexham, Wallingford, Ailred, Alfred of Beverly, Giraldus Cambrensis, Roger of Hoveden (Howden), William of Newburgh, Bene- dictus Abbas, Ealph de Diceto, Gervase of Canterbury, Vinesauf, Eichard of Devices, and Jocelin de Brakelonda. Many of these writers, as stated elsewhere, copy from their predecessors so largely as often to become not a little wearisome as we pass from one to the other. But most of them describe events of their own time, and they often follow authorities now lost. The reader who wishes further information concerning these historians and chroniclers will find it in Nicholson's Historical Library,- War- ton's Introduction of Learning into England, preliminary to his History of English Poetry ; in the literary Introduction to Lappenberg's History of England; in Wright's Biographia Britannica; and in the republica tion of these various works which have taken place of later years, both in Latin and English. 430 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. We are inclined to think, however, that the architects chapes. Qf y^g per j0^ must have known much more of mathe matics than was suspected by these authorities.* study ofthe In 1151 Gratian, a monk of Bologna, published his canonhlw. Decretum of the Canon Law. This scientific digest superseded all other works of the kind, and became the universal text-book among teachers. At this time also, the Pandects of Justinian are brought from their obscurity, and become in like manner the great class- book in the study of civil law. In the first half of the twelfth century, Roger, a monk of Normandy, lectured with much applause on the canon and civU law in Oxford ; and during this century Geirard, an Englishman, lectured with stiU greater favour on the same subjects in Paris. The pope granted Geirard a dispensation, which empowered him to hold his pro fessorship in France, together with the see of Lich field in England. The admirers of the common, that is, of native law, both in this country and on the Continent, opposed these studies with much vehe mence. But their patriotism was resisted by the professional zeal of the clergy. The civil law aided the canon law, and the canon law was the basis of church discipline and church power, f From a letter of Peter of Blois, we may see the ardour with which these branches of knowledge were pursued at this time. ' In the house of my master (Theobald), the ' archbishop of Canterbury, there are several very ' learned men, famous for their knowledge of law and ' politics, who spend the time between prayers and * The Latin style of John of Salisbury is highly praised even by mo dern critics. ' His Policraticon,' says Warton, ' is an extremely pleasant - miscellany, replete with erudition, and a judgment of men and things which properly belongs to a more sensible and reflecting period. His familiar acquaintance with the classics appears, not only from the happy facility of his language, but from the many citations from the purest Eoman authors.' — Introduct. t See p. 332 of this volume. That two of the most distinguished professors in this country before the age of the Great Charter — Geirard and White— should have been Englishmen, shows the vigour with which the Saxon mind was then forcing its way upward. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 431 ' dinner in lecturing, disputing, and debating causes, book iii. ' To us, aU the knotty questions of the kingdom are Chaf' g- ' referred, which are produced in the common haU, ' and every one in his order, having first prepared ' himself, declares, with aU the eloquence and acute- ' ness of which he is capable, but without wrangling, ' what is wisest and safest to be done. If God sug- ' gests the soundest opinion to the youngest among ' us, we aU agree to it without envy or detraction.'* These Romanized tastes contributed towards making The Latin the Latin a commonly spoken language. Among the muftipileiT clergy, and all who attended the different schools, tion of whether in the universities, the cathedrals, or the monasteries, Latin was the common medium of commu nication. Professors lectured in it with the greatest ease and freedom, and youths in very humble life might sometimes be heard conversing in it. Books, too, were multiplied by transcription, with a facility exceeding our conception. The practice, and the neces sity of the art, gave men a great mastery in it. Then, as now, though not of course to the same extent, books which were interesting were widely circulated.- Among the works of interest so circulated/ we do Romance not of course reckon the huge tomes of history or uterature- chronicle to which some twenty authors of this period gave existence. Nor can we suppose that the Latin poetry, produced by an equal number of writers, was more than partiaUy read, though often characterized by much graceful elaboration. It is the romance lite rature of this age, written in Latin or in Anglo- Norman, in prose and verse, that we find most fre quently under the hand of the transcriber. Certain rude minstrels called 'jongleurs,5 accom- TheJon- panied the Normans into England. One of these, gleur' named TaUlefer, a chief of his class, struck the first * Henry, Hist. Eng. vi. Warton reckons the profession of the civil and canonical laws among the impediments ' to the propagation of those letters which humanize the mind, and cultivate the manners.' — Intro duct. clxxv. 432 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. blow, in the spirit of his own war-song, at Hastings, ^1!_ ' Rahere, the founder of Bartholomew's Hospital, ap pears to have been a man of this order. His songs and feats made him a welcome guest in the castle and the palace, and won applause from the humblest, as weU as from those of high degree.* The Trou- But with the opening of the twelfth century the VGF6 ' jongleur gives place to the ' trouv&re.' The honour of the first place, in point of time, in this new class of songsters, is assigned to WiUiam, duke of Guienne, whose name belongs to the close of the eleventh cen tury. Some fifty years, however, pass, before we meet with a second name attaining to any such dis tinction. But through nearly a century and a half from that time the names of such aspirants become numberless. The trouvere, or troubadour artist, was of a higher grade than the 'jongleur.' His name bespoke him a seeker and a knower, and his narratives were to give proof of his pretensions. In fact, the ' trouvere' was a scholarly person. • For the most part these men were ordained clergymen. But they bore * ' The following,' says Ellis, ' may perhaps be accepted as a tolerable summary of tbe history of the minstrels. It appears likely that they were carried by EoUo into France, where they probably introduced a certain number of their native traditions ; those, for instance, relating to Orgier le Danios, and other northern heroes, who were afterwards enlisted into the tales of chivalry; but that, being deprived of tbe mythology of their original religion, and cramped, perhaps, as well by the sober spirit of Christianity, as by the imperfection of a language whose tameness was utterly inapplicable to the sublime obscurity of their native poetry, they were obliged to adopt various modes of amusing, and to unite the talents of the mimic and the juggler, as a compensation for the defects of the musician and poet. Their musical skill, however, if we may judge from the number of their instruments, of which very formidable catalogues are to be found in every description of a royal festival, may not have been contemptible ; and their poetry, even though confined to short composi tions, was not likely to be devoid of interest to their hearers, while em ployed on the topics of flattery or satire. Their rewards were certainly in some cases enormous, and prove the esteem in which they were held.' — English Metrical Bomances, Introduct. § I. The Minnesingers were the troubadours of Germany; they flourished during the same period, and were not less numerous. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 433 the name of ' clercs lisant/ a designation which de- book iii. noted, that with the status of the clerk, they aspired c"Ar' 6' to be the men of letters of their time. They were not bound to the routine of the convent, nor to the duties of the parish priest. They ranged freely from castle to castle, and tendered acceptable service as minstrels, as scholars, and as men to whom the training of noble youth might be entrusted. They were familiar with the treasures locked up in the Latin tongue, and could give forth the lore of other lands, and other days, to knight and lady, in the tongue spoken by them. WhUe the chronicler in his convent is full in his account of the doings of king or noble in relation to the church, and, above all, in relation to the posses.- sions or privileges of ' our abbey' — the trouvere dwells with a hke interest, but with much more spirit and hfe, on events and scenes with which the gay and secular world are interested. The men who do battle, then costume, then weapons, their achievements, their love affairs — aU are daguerreotyped. So is it with the pageant on the coronation-day, the wedding-day, or at the grand "tournament. There was a large public in those times, as in our own, who wished to know all about such scenes, and the trouvhre was in the place of many a modern contrivance for meeting this demand. Crowds who did not read novels, listened to them from his hps. He knew better than other men what had been done, or was doing, and could report it better. Eloise, in one of her extant letters, speaks of verses written in amorous measure by Abelard, which were so sweet in then language and melody, that his name, and the name of his Eloise, were in the mouths of all classes, even of the most Uliterate. Nor was it the living world only that the trouvere Historical was expected to present, so that the picture should seem Eomanoe- to hve anew for those to whom it was presented. The same poetic and romantic treatment of the past was expected from him. And in the palmy days of the Anglo-Norman trouvere, he did not disappoint this I E E 434 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. expectation. History and fiction were alike in his Ghap' 6' domain, and often the one was mingled strangely with the other. Sad blunders does he sometimes make in matters of geography and chronology, his ancients of a thousand years before, being often singularly like the men and women of his own time, in ideas, lan guage, and aU things. But, with aU its faults, this trouvere literature was most refreshing and wholesome in its influence on the people for whom it was pro vided. Even the stories about fountains guarded by dragons, woods filled with enchantments, fair ladies subject to base durance and much wrong, and gallant knights prepared to brave all dangers for then rescue — even these come as an awakening influence on the slumbering imagination and feeling of multitudes. The effect of the patronage of literature by Henry I. and his queens survived through the disorders of the reign of Stephen.* But it is not until the reign of Henry II. that we become sensible to the influence of the writings of the trouveres on the national taste. Geoffrey of In our days, we rarely hear the British History of Geoffrey of Monmouth adverted to, except in terms of censure and contempt. ' Lying Geoffrey' is the name sometimes bestowed upon him. And truly, as a his tory of Britain, his book has small value. But as a species of historical novel, such as the genius of the twelfth century could produce, and the people of the twelfth century could intensely admire, the book has Monmouth. * Henry's first wife was the good queen Maude, daughter of Malcolm, king of Scotland, by his Saxon queen Margaret. It is in the following somewhat querulous terms that Malmesbury refers to Maude's patronage of the kind of literature under 'consideration : — ' She had a singular plea sure in hearing the service of God ; and on this account was thoughtlessly prodigal towards clerks of melodious voices, addressed them kindly, gave them liberally, promised them still more abundantly. Her generosity becoming universally known, crowds of scholars, equally famed for verse and for singing, came over ; and happy did he account himself who could soothe the ears of the queen by the novelty of his song.' — Lib. x. Malmes bury attributes this disposition in the queen to a love of admiration, but is obliged to admit that Maude was a woman of fervent piety. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 435 an interest and a worth of no ordinary kind. Within book iii. five years from its appearance, it had been so read and CnAP' 6' talked about, that the young scholar who had not be come familiar with it, was in much the same condition with the youth among ourselves who should be obhged to confess that he had never read Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress or Robinson 'Crusoe. By purchase, or by loan, the book found its way almost everywhere; and those who could not read it, might be seen crowd ing together to hsten to some one who could recite its most touching episodes from memory. The book may not be true to history, but it must have been wonderfully true to nature. For this reason did the popular mind dwell upon it, and the poets of later time have gone to it as to a storehouse of the bright and beautiful. ' Who indeed ever marshalled a good- ' lier company, aU instinct with poetic life. Empire- ' founding Brutus ; Sabrina, stream-engulphed ; Cor- ' deha, whose steadfast filial piety shines out amidst ' the tempest-stricken scenes of Lear's sad history, ' like the calm bright star on the vexed ocean ; and ' Artegal and Elidurus, that tale of devoted brotherly ' love ; Ferrex and Porrex, that tale of Cain-like hate ; ' and king Lud, and his triumphant burial-place ; and ' Merlin and his marvels ; and king Arthur — he upon ' whose shrine Pulci, Boyardo, Ariosto, Chaucer, Sack- ' ville, Spenser, Drayton, have heaped laurels — ' Arthur, that great exemplar of chivalry, whom ' MUton himself once thought to make the hero of ' some poem which the world should not willingly ' let die.'* Geoffrey is supposed to have been a Benedictine monk, belonging to a monastery of that order in Monmouth. His book, appears to have been pub hshed in 1 147. Five years later he became bishop of St. Asaph. He died in 1 154. His great patron was Robert, earl of Gloucester, a natural son of Henry I. * British Quarterly Beview, vol. v. p. 167. E F 2 436 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. He had the reputation of being weU acquainted with chains. ^e ;gref.on langUage ; and his friend Calenius, arch deacon of Oxford, is said to have brought a number of manuscripts in that language into this country, relating to ancient British history, which he requested Geoffrey to translate. From this source, together with the Welsh annals and traditions accessible to him, Geof frey has been supposed to have drawn his materials. But it must be remembered, that we have no trace of anything like a metrical romance in the French lan guage before the middle of the twelfth century at the earliest.* The popular ballad, and the .war-song, existed, as they had existed in the north long before, but nothing more considerable. While among the Bre tons, even the tradition of such a literature is not to be found. The oldest writing of any description in that language does not go farther back than the year 1450.! If the manuscripts of the archdeacon of Oxford came from Brittany, they must have traveUed thither from. Wales. In fact, as stated elsewhere, the substance of Geoffrey's British History is to be found in the Welsh Chronicle by Tysilio.| Geoffrey indeed has expanded the fictions of his author, and made considerable addi tions to them ; but the source from which his genius derived its inspiration is sufficiently manifest. In the British History of Geoffrey of Monmouth, we have the fruit, not of the Breton, but of the ancient British mind, in the department of historical romance. Through many generations, Geoffrey's narrative was received in England, with slight exception, as genuine history. It was first written in Latin, but was speedily translated into Norman, English, and Welsh. Copies were multiplied in great numbers, and the work was embeUished anew, in whole or in part, by many writers, in prose and in verse. It thus became the basis of a popular historical literature — in the * Ellis's Early Metrical Bomances, Introd. t Hallam's Introduction to the Literary History of Europe. % Page 114. THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 437 hands of Shakespeare, of a dramatic literature, the fame book hi. of which must live as long as the name of the great CnAP' 6" hard himself shall live. The writer who contributed most to make the con tents of the British History familiar to the English was Richard Wace, a native of the island of Jersey, who threw the substance of it into verse in Norman French, adding to it considerably from sources or inventions of his own. Wace presented his book, when complete, to Eleanor, queen of Henry II. Wace also wrote a chronicle of the dukes of Normandy, in Alexandrine metre, intitled The Romance of Rollo. Among the names most distinguished in this field of literature are those of Gaimer, Herman, David Bonoit, Luc de la Barre, Hugh of Rutland, Simon du Fresne, Luc du Gast, Walter Mapes, Robert de Borrow, Elie de Borrow, Rusteian de Pise, Gervais, and Boson. To these names some add those of archbishop Langton and Richard I. Some works of this class, which were much read and admired, were of unknown, or doubtful authorship, as the Pilgrimage of St. Brandan, the Holy Graal, sometimes called the Roman de Per ceval, and the separate romances concerning Prince Arthur and Sh Tristem.* But if the Normans knew nothing of a hterature of Norman ar- this kind until long after their settlement in Eng-Cie0 " land, it should be acknowledged, as we have before * It is not necessary we should attempt to settle any of the questions which have been raised concerning the men or the performances above mentioned. The reader desirous of becoming fully acquainted with this subject may consult the following works: Warton's History of English Poetry ; De la Rue, Essais Historiques ; Eobert of Gloucester's Chro nicle, edited by Hearne; Percy's Belies of Ancient Poetry ; The Me trical Bomances of Ellis, Eitson, and Weber ; Havelok the Dane, edited by Sir Francis Madden (Eoxburgh Club); History of English Bhymes, by Edwin Guest ; Beliquim Antiques, by Wright and Halliday ; Early Metrical Bomances (Camden Society) ; Layamon's Brut, or Chronicle of Britain, edited by Sir F. Madden; Sir Tristem, edited by Sir Walter Scott; Wright's Biographia. In his ' Anglo-Norman Period.' Mr. Wright has given some account of above two hundred person's known more or less as authors. 438 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book iii. said, that their skill in architecture, even before the HAPV Conquest, was considerable. Admhation of such works was a passion with them. Before the close of the tenth century they had adorned their country with many beautiful edifices in that bold, masculine Romanesque style which they had adopted. When WiUiam meditated the conquest of England, the dukes of Normandy, and the nobles who did them homage had learnt to vie with each other in their zeal to cover their respective territories with such monuments of their opulence and taste. Castles, city fortifications, churches, monasteries, everywhere bespoke the interest of the race in such works. The effect of taste in this form soon became even more conspicuous in England than it had been in Normandy. Norman architecture occupies a middle ground between the Roman and the Gothic. It embraces much of the solidity and gravity of the former style, with something of the lightness and flexibility of the latter. It retains the arch, but uses that element, and every other, with a licence of its own. Nothing can be more picturesque than some of the domestic examples in this style of building. Retrospect, So did the powerful and the wealthy become the patrons of literature and art in Anglo-Norman Britain. In the absence of higher motives, the desire of fame, and a passion for such splendour as was possible in those times, were sufficient to prompt many to this policy. The result we see in the great increase of learned men ; in the multiplication and improvement of institutions in aid of learning ; in the number of authors who distinguish themselves as chroniclers, historians, poets, and romance- writers ; and in the consequent wider diffusion of a taste for hterature and refinement. The languages spoken in England at this time were the Latin, the French, and the English. All laymen were not ignorant of Latin; but even nobles con tinued to regard such ignorance as little if at aU dis creditable to them. The language spoken by the Nor mans was French ; but towards the close of this period THE CONQUEST IN ITS RELATION TO SOCIAL LIFE. 439 the Norman-French had borrowed much from the book hi. Saxon, and the Saxon in turn had borrowed something ClIAP" g' from the Norman. It has been said that the Con queror meditated extinguishing the language of the people he had subdued. But the statement is un warranted. WUliam endeavoured to learn the Eng hsh language. All his charters were given in that tongue. His successors followed his example in this respect; and when the English did give place to another language, it was to the Latin, and not to the French. French, indeed, was the language of the courts of law, and this must have been a great dis advantage to the Enghsh ; but the usage was a neces sity — the administrators of the law could speak in no other tongue. But in the reign of king John, the Eng lish was gaining fast everywhere upon the French, and the silent action of time was about to show, in this manner, the great preponderance, in number and in fluence, stdl possessed by the Saxon race in England. By the Conquest, our island almost ceased to be insular. England became a consolidated power, par ticipating in aU the questions and interests affecting the nations of Europe. In the great controversy, for example, between the ecclesiastical and the civil power, England has its full share. All the subtle pleas on which such controversies were founded became familiar to men's thoughts in this country. Ecclesiastical disputes, military affairs in Normandy, the commencement of the Crusades, the fame of our Richard I. in those enterprises, the new laws, and the new features in the administra tion of law — aU maybe said to havebeen both the effects and the causes of a new wakefulness, disposing men to observe, to reflect, and judge in regard to what was passing about them. The five hundred monasteries had then schools, but the five hundred towns and cities were aU schools ; and in these last, the lessons taught, though little marked or perceived, were cease less, manifold, and potent. By degrees, Norman and Saxon became more equal. Marriages between the two races became every-day events. In the face of 440 NORMANS AND ENGLISH. book in. the law and ofthe magistrate, the two races may be said .hap^s. i^ ^-g ^me £0 -^g £wo races no longer. If the Saxon burgess, and the Norman alderman, still looked at times with jealousy upon each other, the fight between them became comparatively fair and harmless, as it became less a battle of the strong against the weak. When the corpse of king John was laid in Worcester Cathedral, the dark day in the history of the Enghsh had passed. In future, the Norman, whether prince or baron, must demean himself honourably towards the Englishman, or cease to be powerful. The revolution of this period to the Saxon, had consisted in his being defeated, despoUed, downtrodden — and in his recover ing himself from that position, by his own patient energy, so as to regain from the new race of kings aU the hberty he had lost, and guarantees for that liberty which were fuU of the seeds of a greater hberty to come. With this revolution to the Saxon, there came revolution to the Norman. The Norman is no longer a man of military science, and nothing more — no longer a mere patron of letters, with scarcely a tincture of them himself. His intelligence is enlarged. His tastes are expanded and refined. The country of his adoption is becoming more an object of affection to him than the country from which he has derived his name. In short, the Norman is about to disappear in the Englishman. The Englishman is not about to disappear in the Norman. After aU, the oldest dweUers upon the soil have proved to be the strongest.* * The following passage indicates the admixture of races that had taken place in about a century and a half from the Conquest : — ' D. Nunquid pro murdro debet imputari clandestina mors Anglici sicut Normanni. ' M. A prima institutione non debet, sicut audisti : sed jam cobabitan- tibus Anglicis et Normannis, et alterutrum uxores ducentibus, vel nuben- tibus, sic permixtse sunt nationes, ut vix discern! possit hodie, de liberis loquor, quis Anglicus quis Normannus sit genere ; exceptis duntaxat ascriptitiis qui Villani dicuntur, quibus non est liberum obstantibus do- minis suis a sui status conditione discedere. Ea propter pene quicunque sic hodie occisus reperitur, ut murdrum punitur exceptis his quibus certa sunt ut diximus servilis conditionis indicia.' — Dialogus de Scaccario, lib. i. Madox, Hist. Excheq. 26. BOOK IV. ENGLISH AND NORMANS. CHAPTER I. INFLUENCE OF THE WARS OF ENGLAND ON THE ENGLISH NATIONALITY. HE reign of John closed in 1316. His son and book iv, successor, Henry III., was then only ten years of Chap. T age. The ascendency of the barons at the time of £°°es8i™rof signing the Great Charter, had so far declined subse quently, that they had invited prince Louis of France, with a French army, to their assistance. This army was in England when John died. But the earl of Pembroke, who became protector to the young king, succeeded in reconcding many of the discontented chiefs, and in compelling the prince and his foUowers to withdraw from the kingdom. Unhappily, the wise administration of Pembroke was of short duration. He died in 1219. Henry made several attempts to recover the posses- Henry's sions of the English crown in France. The first was in war8' 1324, and was partially successful.* The second, in 1229, was more considerable, and was conducted by the king in person, but ended in failure and disgrace, f Not less signal was the disgrace which attended an expedition into that country in 1242, in which Henry was weak enough to attempt to sustain the earl of * Eymer, i. 277-295. Matt. Paris, 223. t Annal, Waverl. 192. Matt. Paris, 243—252. 442 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. Marche, who had married the queen mother, IsabeUa, jjj^_1- in refusing homage to the king of France for lands held from him in Poictou.* An expedition into Gascony in 1254 had a somewhat better termination. It sufficed to put an end to the attempts of the king of Castile to assume the sovereignty over that province. f But the hold of the English crown on those territories was slight, and the Normans in England at this time had ceased to feel any deep interest in the connexion which the court strove to perpetuate between the two countries. character Nothing is more observable during this reign than s reign, ^g COmplain.ts made against favouritism, and against favouritism as bestowed upon foreigners. This weak ness in the king, together with his habitual insincerity and his want of courage, economy, and self-government, exposed him to much humiliation and suffering. His reign extended to more than half a century, and it is fiUed with civU war, or with the intrigues of faction. It was natural that the royal authority should decline during this period. The doctrine of resistance became familiar to the minds of all men. It is in these circum stances that our first House of Commons makes its appearance. The vices of our kings have often proved favourable to the liberties of the people. Accession of Edward, who succeeded his father, had given proofs of capacity and courage during the troubles which marked the- close of the last reign. It was soon felt that the sceptre had passed from the hand of the weak to the hand of the strong. During the first twenty years of his sway, England and France were at peace. In 1286 Edward did homage in Paris to Phdip the Fair for certain lands held by him under the crown of France. But in 1293 the peace between the two countries was disturbed. Naval vic- Some English and French sadors came to words tory of the ° English. * M- West. 306. M. Paris, 392, et seq. Chron. Dumst. 153. f Eymer, i. 505. M. West. 256. M. Paris, 531. INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 443 and blows about access to a spring of fresh water near book iv Bayonne, and one of the Frenchmen was killed. The f^_1' matter was soon noised abroad. The national feeling, so easily excited between French and English in later times, began to manifest itself bitterly on both sides. The narrow seas were suddenly covered with petty instances of maritime hostility. Very soon the Nor mans sent out a fleet of two hundred armed vessels to chastise the islanders. This armament sailed south ward, seizing all English vessels that came in its way; and not content with appropriating ships and cargo, they hung the crews. The inhabitants of the Cinque Ports were soon apprised of these proceedings, and fifty strong-buUt vessels were immediately manned, and sent to intercept the enemy on his return. The two fleets met ; the Normans, after an obstinate re sistance, were completely defeated ; and as no quarter was given, the destruction was enormous. Fifteen thousand Normans are said to have perished.* The Normans of Normandy and the Normans of England were not hkely to be brought nearer together by the fortunes of that day. Nor were the sons of the old Saxon and Danish sea-kings hkely to feel abashed in the presence of then Norman neighbours when they < had a few such days to look back upon. It seems probable that this mixed race of islanders will soon become one, like the sea which encircles them, and which promises to be a grand element in their destiny. Edward was fully occupied at this time with his war in Scotland, and not in a condition to meet the haughty remonstrance of the king of France as his temper might have prompted. Philip summoned him to appear before him in Paris, to answer, as duke of Guienne, for the wrong said to have been perpetrated by his subjects on the subjects of his superior. At the same time, the French king entered into a treaty with the king of Scotland, that so Edward, if not submissive to the call * Heming. i. 39 et seq. Walsingham, 58 et seq. 444 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. made upon him, might have a war upon his hands in f^LJ' both countries.* Perfidy of Edward despatched his brother Edmund, earl of Philip the jjancasterj to treat of this matter in Paris. But Phdip was inexorable. Nothing short of the presence of the duke in person would satisfy him. When the earl was about to leave the court, the queen-dowager and the reigning queen urged, that in the absence of the duke of Guienne, the point of honour should be covered by a temporary surrender of the province itself into the hands of the king of France. Of course the promise was made, that if the territory was so surrendered, it should be voluntarily restored. Philip* gave this pledge in the presence of several witnesses. The surrender was accordingly made. But this done, the earl of Lancaster found, to his amazement, that it was in vain to remind the king of his promise to restore what had been thus relinquished. It is easy to imagine Edward's indignation on being apprised of this perfidy, f Edward in- But the king of England felt that success against France, the Scots was to him a matter of greater moment than any chastisement he might inflict on the king of France. The summons from Philip came in 1294, and in the following year the French king made a descent on the coast of England, and destroyed the town of Dover. It is not, however, untU the August of 1297 that Edward finds himself in a position to attempt the invasion of France. His approach to France in that year was through the Low Countries. His army is reported as numbering 50,000 men. But his aUies are said to have been treacherous, the winter soon came, and after a campaign of eight months, nothing decisive had been done. Sired re" -^e ^wo kings a* length agreed that their differences * Trivet. Annal. an. 1294. Walsingham, 60. Rymer, ii. 680. Hem- ing, i. 76, 77. t Rymer, ii. 620. Heming. i. 41, 42. Walsing. 61. INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 445 should be decided by arbitration, and that pope Boni- book iv. face should be the arbitrator. To give permanence to °HAP' '' the settlement so realized, Boniface proposed that Edward should marry Margaret, the sister of the French king, and that his eldest son should marry Isabella, the daughter of that monarch. In the autumn of 1299 the two royal families were thus united.* Guienne and Poictou were the only provinces of Accession of France now in possession of the English. The un happy reign of Edward II. extended to twenty years. During some three-fourths of that period there were no differences between France and England. But in 1324, Edward was summoned in peremptory terms to do homage to Phihp the Long for his French posses* sions. To evade this demand, the king first sent ambassadors, then his queen, and, lastly, he resigned the two provinces into the hands of his son. But his ease and self-indulgence were not secured by these means. His weakness, his frivolity, and, above all, bis favouritisms, had .fiUed nearly all the famUies of the kingdom with disaffection, his own not excepted. In the end, he became a prisoner in the bands of his subjects ; and his prison, as commonly happens in the history of kings, was a near passage to the grave. The great war of Edward I., it must be remembered, Kesuits of V , . • 1 Tl T • • S tlie warS °f was not his war against ± ranee, nor nis war against Edward 1. the Welsh. It was his war with Scotland. France did not submit to the power of the king of England, but she was taught to respect it. The conquest of Wales by Edward was complete and final, the heir-apparent to the English crown being henceforth proclaimed as the prince of that country. But the war with Scot land was waged on less satisfactory ground, was more fluctuating, more protracted, more costly, and less de cisive in its result. The patriotism of Scotland rose * Eymer, ii. 761, 795 et seq. 817, 841-847. Heming. i. 112-114, 165, 168-170. Knighton, Col. 2512. M. Westminster, a.d. 1298; 1299. 446 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. to its highest in that age. What the Wallaces and iHL.1, Braces of that country could do was then done. Only the genius of an Edward could have prevailed against a people so influenced. But the fact to be especiaUy observed by the. reader is, that in all these wars the English feeling grew to be more and more with the king, disposing the nation at large to take upon itself many heavy burdens, and even to bear with many a sudden and Ulegal exaction, rather than see the national cause dishonoured. The feeling which had so long tended to divide Norman and Saxon became less and less perceptible. Everything that could be speak the growth of a national — we may say, a truly English — unity, became more manifest almost from day to day. ' Men whose fathers had faced each other at Hastings, now took their place side by side in front of a common foe. The memories of their common home and heritage made them strong in the feeling natural to such relationships. The question was no longer what might be possible to Normans, but what might be done by the stout heart and the strong hand of the English. Wars entail many evils, but in this world there is no evil without its good ; and often the greatest evil is compensated in being made parent to some of the highest forms of good. Edward The reign of Edward III., however, was more memo- qla^S'8 rable than that of Edward I. in its tendency to merge with Philip the Norman feeling in this manner in the English. The kings of France did much to irritate both the kings and the people of England, by the ostentatious manner in which it was then pleasure to exact homage for the lands subject to the English crown in that country. It is true, the homage was not to be under stood as paid by the king of England, but simply by the chief of a province, supposed to exist separately, in his person. This distinction, however, was too subtle to be easily apprehended ; and one king kneeling at the feet of another, seemed in that act to be taking the place of an inferior. But the very considerations INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 447 which made this ceremony so little agreeable to the book iv. kings of England, gave it importance in the eyes of CnAP' '" the kings of France. In the second year of his reign, Edward was required by the new king, Philip of Valois, to appear in the French court, and there to perform this unwelcome service. Edward had more' than one reason for looking with distaste on this summons. His mother, Isabella, was daughter of Philip the Fair. The Salic law, which in France precluded his mother from the throne on account of her sex, did not, he maintained, preclude himself, as her male offspring. It was only by re pudiating this doctrine, and ^extending the disability, not only to females in the direct line, but to their descendants, that Philip of Valois had become king. Edward, however, deemed it prudent for the present to comply with the demand of Philip ; but first de clared to his councU, that what he was about to do would be done under constraint, and should not deter him from asserting his right to the crown of France on a future day, should he see occasion.* What Edward saw of France, and of the French court, on this errand, only gave more fixedness and fascination to his idea of conquest in that country. In those days, France and Scotland were always leagued, either secretly or openly, against England. It was in their power to create diversions in favour of each other, and so to weaken the common enemy. But these double tactics only seemed to give a double intensity to the antagonism of the Enghsh. The enemies of England to whom Scotland was not a place of safety, found a ready asylum in France. In 1337, it was no secret that Philip had purposed send ing considerable succours to the party of David Bruce in Scotland. It is at this juncture that Edward decides on invading France. It would require large space to describe adequately * Rymer, iv, 381-390. 448 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the fortunes of this war during the nine years which Chaf' '' preceded the battle of Cressy, and the ten years «?warSf which intervened between that victory and the victory of Edward of Poictiers ; or to do justice to those naval achieve- nationai e ments in which the king commanded in person. On Engii*. the lan(^ and sea, English skill and English bravery became the admiration, or the envy, of Christendom. The odds arrayed against the English at Cressy, and espe ciaUy at Poictiers, might have seemed to preclude all hope of success ; and nothing but the consciousness of a higher military sagacity in the commanders, and of a more thorough military discipline in the men, could have prompted either to look on that success as possible. On the eve of those battles the perils of the English army had reached the lowest .point. But the courage evinced in those dread hours was not the wildness of despair — it was manifestly the discretion of the wise. The few transcended the many in moral power. By that means, and not by accident of any kind, the few became the victors. In those wars, Eng land began with too much dependence on allies and . mercenaries. The result was disappointment and disaster. But to lean on the firm hand and matchless science of her own archers, on the line of adamant presented by her own swordsmen, was not to lean in vain, whether in sustaining an onset, moving from an ambuscade, or storming a breach. At Cressy and Poictiers the hero was the heir- apparent to the English throne — that prince of the sable cuirass, in whom the highest virtues that fiction had been wont to ascribe to chivalry were present and surpassed.* The demands made on the resources of England to carry on these wars were unprecedented ; and while Edward always aimed to take his parliaments along with him, many of his expedients for raising money were such as no law could be s'aid to have sanctioned. * Proissart, bk. i. o. ji. 128-132, 159-164. Rymer, v. 193, 325, 869,870. Walsing. 166-172. llwghton, 5a77> 5288. INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 449 But these burdens, though extending over the space book iv. of a generation, were in the main willingly borne; Chap' '' and the king was allowed to compensate in other ways for the occasional arbitrariness of his proceed ings. It was the English standard that floated over the plains of France, or along the skirts of the Gram pians, and, cost what it might, that standard was not to be prostrated or dishonoured. In these struggles there was a largeness and depth of feeling which suf ficed to put an end to the littleness of faction, to ex tinguish the last remains of the animosities of race, and to give a new sense of common interest to the heart of the nation. It is true, tbe time comes when the king of Scot land leaves the Tower of London to appear again among his subjects ; when the king of France leaves those dark waUs to reascend the throne of his ances tors ; and when Edward has to look on almost aU the acquisitions he had made as having fallen away from him. But it was weU that such should have been the issue. Had the sovereign of England become the sovereign of France, this island must have sunk into a mere appanage to that kingdom, and could hardly have become the Great Britain now known to history. But it was not given to our ancestors in those days to see this probable result of successes which they were prepared to seek at the cost of so much blood and treasure. Our national possessions were not aug mented by those wars, but the gains of the nation from this source, notwithstanding its expenditure and losses, were great and permanent. Wars abroad became the spring of geniality, unity, and power at home. We are not required to enter into the question of the justice or injustice of the wars carried on by Edward I. or Edward III. The grounds aUeged in defence of those enterprises are manifestly untenable, or at the best doubtful. But the English people did not see them in that light, and the effect of- those I G G 450 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. great undertakings on the feeling of the nation is a Chap 1 . — L ' fact whoUy independent of such inquiries. The French court was little mindful ofthe treaty of Bretigny, which followed the victories of the English. Efforts the most ceaseless and unscrupulous were made, not only to regain for France all she had lost, but to excite opposition to English rule even in the provinces which had been long subject to it. The ad vanced age of Edward III., and the declining health of the Black Prince, were circumstances favourable to such a policy. But the fact that the next English sovereign bore the name of Richard of Bordeaux, in honour of his bhthplace, contributed to strengthen the English connexion in those provinces ; nor could the people of those countries be insensible to the mUdness of the English sway, compared with that seen to be everywhere exercised by the crown of France. Henry iv. But Henry IV. dethroned Richard, and became is reign, ^jug ^n j^g s^ea(j France saw in this event a new occasion for attempting to spread disaffection among the subjects of the English crown in that country. French affairs thus became unsettled. Not less so those of Wales and Scotland. With hostilities from all those quarters, the new king found himself obliged to deal with disaffection and conspiracy among his own subjects, and where least expected. His troubles from these sources extend through the first seven or eight years of his reign ; and when the prize which he had seized appeared at length to have become secure, there was the remembrance of the crime by which that end had been accomphshed, which never ceased to people the conscience and imagination of the usurper with unwelcome images. To this reign belong the adven tures of the Hotspurs, Glendowers, and others, to whose temperament and character, if not to their true history, our great bard has given such a vivid reality. Henry IV. had whoUy lost before his death, the INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 451 measure of popularity he possessed in the early por- bookiv. tion of his reign. His jealousy and suspicion had Chap' '' extended even to his own son, whom he had excluded from aU power, civil or military, lest an undutiful and disloyal use should be made of it. On his death-bed, the king counseUed his son to keep the great barons out of mischief by employing them in war ; and be queathed to him the policy of rehgious persecution, as the price that must be paid if the clergy were to be used as a balance against the more powerful among the laity. The heir-apparent was fuUy prepared to act upon these maxims. On the accession of Henry V. the illness of the Henry v. king of France had left that country to become the- ""' France. prey of two great factions, those of Burgundy and Orleans. The dissensions and devastations thus ori ginated covered the land, and exposed it to assault on every side. Henry V. was no sooner on the throne than he began to meditate an invasion of that king dom. He had succeeded to the throne of Edward III., and in so doing, according to his reasoning, had suc ceeded to the claims of that monarch on the French crown. France, moreover, had acted perfidiously and insolently towards England for many years past, and must be expected so to do, unless made to feel the impohcy of such a course of proceeding. Nothing, however, could be more unfounded than the claims set forth by the king of England. But the passions of the great men, and of the people at large, were in favour of the enterprise ; and the clergy, with archbishop Chichele at their head, were most vehe ment in its support — such an employment of knights and nobles being sure, it was thought, to caU off their attention from those ecclesiastical reforms on which many of them were disposed to look with too much favour. Henry left Southampton with a fleet of fifteen hun- war with dred vessels, containing 6000 men-at-arms, and 24,000 archers. His first enterprise was against the town of G G 2 452 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. Harfleur. Five weeks were consumed in reducing that j^_1- place. By this time September was approaching its close. The English army, too, had suffered much from sickness ; and having garrisoned the town, Henry decided on returning to England for the winter. But the news of the fall of Harfleur, appears to have arrested the course of intrigue and faction amongst the French. Tidings now reached the English, that an army of more than 100,000 Frenchmen would soon be upon then path. Henry might have embarked at Harfleur, and so have evaded the enemy. But such a movement would have borne too much the appear ance of flight. He resolved to march in the direction of Calais. This he did without hurry and without dis order. The army was not insensible to its danger. But the king shared in all its hardships, and by his fearless speech and genial bearing, seemed to infuse his own spirit into the humblest of his followers. Of the distinctions of rank he would know little. Every brave man was to him a man of gentle blood ; and the. man who should shed blood with him was of his own blood. The words of fire which our great dramatist has made him address to those men when about to ascend the waUs of Harfleur, are such in substance as history reports him to have uttered. No shame of England, or of English blood, in the language of that chivalrous descendant from a line of Norman kings !* * Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! On, on, you noble English Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof! Fathers who, like so many Alexanders, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, And sheathed their swords for lack of argument : Dishonour not your mothers ; now attest, That those whom you called fathers, did beget you ! Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear INFLUENCE OF WAR ON ENGLISH NATIONALITY. 453 In the evening of the 24th Of October, the English book iv. pitched their tents near the village of Agincourt. °HAP' '' Fatigued were they, and in no holiday trim. On The battle that memorable autumn night they had to lay their court8.'"" account with facing an enemy numbering ten to one in the morning. The moon shone brightly on their tents, and on the warriors' steel. The French might be heard giving themselves to revehy, in confidence of victory. The English passed those hours in rest, in thoughtfulness, or prayer. The position chosen, as at Poictiers, was one in which, from the shelter on either flank, the greater number of the enemy could not be used to its fuU advantage. This gave an unusual density to the French lines, on which the arrows of the Enghsh told with terrible effect. Once discon certed, this crowding became a fatal mischief. The Enghsh, having exhausted their arrows, bore down upon the enemy with sword and battle-axe, when they became the pressure of order upon confusion. The battle lasted three hours. The loss of the Enghsh was almost incredibly smaU — it is said not to have exceeded- a hundred men. Among the slain of the French were the Constable of France, three dukes, one archbishop, one marshal, thirteen earls, ninety-two barons, and fifteen hundred knights, besides common soldiers. The captives, too, exceeded the number of the captors.* When tidings of this victory reached England, the joy of the nation knew no bounds. The recep tion given to the king was that of a people whose That you are worth your breeding ; whicb I doubt not ; Eor there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, Cry, ' God for Harry, England, and St. George !' Henry V. act i. See Hall's Chronicle. * Walsingham, 392. Elmham, c. 24-27. Hall, Hen. V. 16. Titus Livius, 12-17. Hall's Chronicle. 454 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. enthusiastic admiration could find no adequate ex- Chap. i. pression. issue of But this victory, signal as it was, had not sufficed to i™Bnc"sin conquer France. Seven years later the health of the king failed, and his reign closed, leaving his crown to pass to his only child, then less than a year old. The war carried on by himself or by his adherents, in France, continued to the end of his reign ; and sub sequently the influence of Joan of Arc imposed a powerful check on English influence in that country. Henceforth, the distractions in France, which had done so much to favour the ambitious designs of the Enghsh, were followed by distractions in England, which were not less favourable to the reactionary power of the French. The war of thirty years which foUowed the death of Henry V. ended in the seizure, by the crown of France, of the last remnant of terri tory in that country owning allegiance to England. From the year 145 1 Calais alone remains in possession of the English. Costly as these wars had been, the English bitterly deplored this course of events. They did not see, that all that could be gained from such possessions had been gained long since ; and that the time had come in which the true policy of England would be found in seeking the development of her own resources.* * Monstrelet, iii. 32—40. CHAPTER II. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. w E have seen that the wars of England during this b°ok iv. Chap z period were many, and often on a large scale. — L ' The expense of such armaments must have been great ; Sai^jpwt" and the productive power turned aside by such means of Europe from its better uses, must also have been of large gain upon amount. But in such portions of history there is *p^|t.llltaiy more included than hes upon the surface. It is certain that a nation capable of waging costly wars cannot be a poor nation. Where so large an expenditure in that particular direction was possible, the industry and skUl in other directions must have been consider able. Kings of England who could aspire to make themselves kings of France, must have felt that they were masters of no mean resources. Prevalent as wars may have continued to be during the thirteenth and two foUowing centuries, the power of the arts of peace gains greatly during this period upon the power of the sword. Commerce may be seen rising fast towards the place of influence which was to belong to it in the history of modern Europe. In English history, the spirit of the Crusades may be said to have spent itself with the reign of Richard I. But the impetus given by that movement to naval and commercial enterprise remained. The cities of Italy rose to opulence, in great part, by means of those memorable migrations from west to east : and when that source of profit had ceased, the Italian re publics were found capable, not only of sustaining, out of surpassing, their former splendour. The ships of Venice and Genoa continued to float on aU waters, 456 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. from Egypt to Iceland. With the commercial cities — '— of Italy we must couple the Hanse Towns of Germany, the great trading towns of the Netherlands, and the principal seaports of Portugal, Spain, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. Commerce led to relations by treaty between England and all those countries.* industry Trade in those days, both foreign and domestic, was piracy? 7 subject to many discouragements. One of the most formidable of these consisted in the prevalence of piracy. The governments of the period were all more or less irregular and insecure, especially in their in fluence on the more remote provinces nominally sub ject to their authority. But if licence seemed to increase with distance on the land, much more was it thus with distance on the open sea. Trading vessels were always armed vessels — were as far as possible vessels of war : and the strong too often seized upon the weak, even in the time of peace, appropriating the ship and the cargo, and despatching the crew. Depre dations of this nature provoked reprisals, and large fleets sometimes took the quarrels thus originated into then own hands, without consulting their respective governments. Almost every state had at times its complaint to make of wrong in this shape, and often only to be reminded of similar outrages as perpetrated by its own subjects. The kings of England adopted some severe measures to repress these disorders, and not wholly without effect. The Navy This evil resulted in part from the fact that the die'lg?"1" governments of Europe had no ships that were pro perly their own. The different ports of England, especiaUy the Cinque Ports, were bound, in return for certain privileges, to supply the king, on his summons, with a fixed number of vessels, or at least with a certain tonnage of shipping. As the arming of ships * Rymer's Fcedera, ii. 953 ; iii. 107, 482,- 565, 647, 1011, 1028; v. 569, 703, 719, 734; vii. 747. Anderson's History of Commerce, i. 109—301. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 457 consisted wholly in the personal arms of the seamen, book iv. or of the military embarked in them, this kind of f^_?" force proved sufficient for its purpose. Hence we read of a thousand or fifteen hundred ships in some of the armaments of England during this period.* The disagreements of England in those days were Navai generaUy with France or Spain, rarely with the more theEngUah. commercial states of Europe. In its hostUities with both those powers, the superior skill and daring of the Enghsh seamen were generally manifest. On the morning ofthe 2 and of June in 1340, Edward III., at the head of a fleet of two hundred and sixty ships, gave battle at the mouth of the Sluys to a French fleet of four hundred saU. The fight was obstinate on the side of the French, for they fought to prevent the meditated invasion of France. But the better sea manship, and the better archery, of the Enghsh pre- vaUed, aided as those appliances were by the presence and the heroic conduct of the king. Many ships were destroyed, two hundred were captured, and 30,000 men are said to have perished by the hands of the Enghsh, or in the waves.f Ten years later, the Spaniard began to evince that jealous and haughty bearing towards England, which was to put the firmness and courage of our ancestors to the test upon occasion for some three centuries to come. Stimulated by the French, the Spaniards, in x35°j sent out a fleet, which captured or destroyed many ships engaged in the trade between England and its possessions in France ; and threatened, by royal proclamation, to put an end to the navy of England, and to ride masters of the narrow seas. Edward resolved to intercept this lordly enemy on his way from Flanders, and for this purpose put to sea with a fleet of fifty sail, taking with him his eldest * Anderson, i. 147, 164, 177, 201, 202, 207, 210, 220, 240. t Eroissart, i. c. 51. Rymer, v. 195. Knyghton, 25, 77. Wals. 148. Avesbury, 54—^9. 458 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. son, the Black Prince, and several of his nobles. The — !_?' historians of the time describe the Spanish ships called ' Carricks,' as so many floating castles in comparison with the lighter craft manned by the Enghsh. But the Spanish bowmen were no match for the English archers. Twenty-six of those floating castles were taken, several were sunk, and the loss of life to the enemy was great. Spain profited by this sharp lesson. She bound herself to good behaviour for the next twenty years.* ' msntoto -^ ^is prevalence of piracy, and this dependence trade from of governments on trading vessels for their navies, legislation, were not the only hindrances to commerce during the three centuries which preceded the accession of Henry VII. Much of the legislation of those times in rela tion to trade was not less mischievous. Edward II. attempted to fix the price of provisions. The result was a scarcity which put an end to the interference, f Even Edward IIL, a much wiser king, passed a law which required that no foreign merchant should be a dealer in more than one commodity. In this case also, the intended remedy soon proved to be more grievous than the real or supposed disease. J It was a law also of this period, perpetuated through genera tions, that the chief English commodities, wool, wool- fells, leather, tin, and lead, disposed of on the Conti nent, should be sold at one staple or mart. The place of sale changed — now at Bruges, now at Brabant, or elsewhere — but it was always one place. The export of such commodities by any British subject in viola tion of this law, was made felony. § No Englishman Could import wine from Gascony — the trade was re stricted to the foreign merchant. [| prejudice jjut the English merchants looked with much foreign jealousy on all favour shown to foreigners. Until the merchants. * Rymer, v. 679. Anderson's Hist. Com. i. 181. f Walsing. 107. J Statutes, 37th Ed. III. § Ibid. 27th Ed. III. c. 3. || Ibid. 42nd Ed. III. c. 8. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 459 middle of the fourteenth century, every company or book iv. guUd of foreign merchants in England, was made re- Chap' z" sponsible for the debts and crimes of its members.* In the reign of Henry IV. this spirit was carried so far, that it was enacted by parliament, that every foreign merchant should expend the money received for goods imported, in goods to be exported; that imported goods should not be exposed for sale more than three days ; that such goods should not be sold by one foreign merchant to another ; that every such merchant should have his host .assigned to him, and should not reside elsewhere ; and that the penalty of forfeiture should be incurred by any attempt to carry plate, bullion, or gold and silver coin, out of the king dom, f In 1289 the city of London petitioned the king to banish aU foreign merchants ; J and in 1379 a Genoese who proposed, under sufficient protection, to make the spices of the East accessible to the English at a price greatly below then usual cost, was assassi nated by the traders of the metropolis. So the scheme which was thought to menace then profits was frus trated. § But the merchants of Genoa, Venice, Florence, Italians the Pisa, and Lucca were the traders through whom our f^be™" ancestors became possessed of the natural and artificial 3^8™^° products of the East. || The Peruchi, the Seali, the west. Frisco baldi, the BaUardi, the Reisardi, and the Bardi are among the names of different Italian companies or houses in England in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.^" And it is perhaps due to our forefathers * Statutes, 27th Ed. III. c. 17. t Ibid. 4th and jth Hen. TV. X Anderson, i. 131. The first legal encouragement given to foreign merchants (excepting those at the Steelyard), dates from the reign of Edward I. But in the thirteenth year of that monarch the Commons granted the king a fiftieth of their moveables on condition of his compel ling all ' merchant strangers' to leave the kingdom. — Ibid. § Walsing. 227. . || Anderson, i. 131. *(]" Ttymer's Fcedera, ii. 705 ; iv. 387. Madox, Firma Burgi, g6, 97, 275. Anderson, i. 141, 142. tion of 460 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. to state, that the extortions, the usuries, and the fill?' ostentatious display of wealth which characterized these Lombards, as they were called, seemed almost to justify the feehng with which they were regarded.* The German merchants ofthe Steelyard were a different class of men, and the popular feeling in relation to them was different. introduc- Even these, however, became in many places un popular, in common with strangers generally, when attempts were made by Edward III. to induce German and Flemish weavers to settle in England. Some effort of this sort was made by the Conqueror ; and in the History of the Exchequer there is the record of fines paid to Wdliam by the cloth-weavers for the conservation of their privUeges. f Before the death of Henry I. this branch of manufacture had made some progress, and regulations were issued to determine the measure of cloth, and the manner in which it should be offered for sale. Similar instructions were issued under John and Henry III. But from that time to the time of Edward III. our statutes are silent on the subject. Edward issued a proclamation promising his protection to all foreign weavers and fuUers who should settle in the country. The king's marriage with Phdippa, daughter of the earl of Hainault, may have disposed him towards this exercise of his patron age, though the foUy of sending English wool to the Continent, that it might be sent back again as cloth, was a sufficient inducement. Many WaUoon famUies settled in England. The natives, as usual, denounced the strangers as intruders and monopolists, and some times rose in outrage against them. -In 1337 several statutes were enacted for their further protection. The use of foreign cloth was interdicted, except to the members of the royal family. It was made felony to export wool; and so rapid was the advance of this * Anderson, Hist. Com. i. 137, 167, 181, 189. M. Paris, 286. t Madox, c. xiii. § 3. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 461 manufacture, that before the close of this reign fulled book iv. woollen cloths were an article of English exporta- °"AP' *' tion.* Mention is frequently made at this time of the Merchant of thfl Merchants of the Staple. This was a chartered com- staple. pany, consisting at first wholly of foreigners. It pertained to them to coUect aU the wool, wool-feUs, leather, tin, and lead designed for exportation. These commodities they were to deposit in certain towns caUed ' staple' towns, that they might there be subject to the king's customs; and they were then further responsible for seeing these products conveyed safely to Calais, and their value returned in goods, coin, or bullion. In 1458, the sum contributed by this com pany to the exchequer was 68,000^. in the money of that time.t The company of St. Thomas a, Becket consisted of j* ™pha°^°3f English merchants who possessed the privdege of a Becket. exporting woollen cloth, and of course does not date earher than the time when the English began to manufacture their wool for themselves. This company at length absorbed the ' Staple' company, and was itself ultimately merged in the great company of Merchant Adventurers. X These companies were all founded, more or less, on Relation of • 1 j> ¦ ¦¦• j -1 m 1 companies a principle ot privUege and. monopoly. lo expect and mono- that the political economists of those days should have " seen this principle as it is now generaUy seen, would ment be to expect that our remote ancestors should have learnt lessons from their hmited experience, which we have ourselves been rather slow to learn from experi ence of a much larger description. During the period now under review, the fiscal machinery for carrying on polies to govern- * Hoveden, ad an. 1 197. Rymer's Feed. iv. 496 ; v. 427. ist Ed. III. c. I, 2, 3, 5 ; ^oth Ed. III. o. 7 ; Eden, c. i. t Statutes, 2 7th Ed. III. Anderson, i. 2 7 6. Statutes, 1 8th Hen. VI. c. 23. X Anderson, i. 233, 260-276. 462 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. government after our manner did not exist, and could CHAP' "*• hardly have been made to exist. Companies did, in this respect, a great part of the work of government. They superintended exports and imports, and gave reports and results. The only disputes in relation to them were, not disputes in regard to the principle of exclusion on which they were based, but such as con sisted in the complaints of natives against foreigners, or of one company against another. Nor was it the import and export trade only that was subject to these restrictions; the inland trade fell in a great degree under the same kind of regulations. Our kings taxed these companies themselves, very much at their plea sure, and taxed others by their means ; and it is not until the age of Elizabeth that we find the abuses connected with this usage so great as to cause com plaints against ' monopohes ' to become a popular cry. The En- But with all these impediments, and more, English come en- industry became more skilful and productive, more gaged in expanded and organized, with every generation. In tradf" the fifteenth century, the English merchants began to conduct their own traffic in their own ships in the Mediterranean.* In the great fairs of the Nether lands the English were the great traders.^ At home, the merchant often rose — as in the instance of a Canning in Bristol, and of many such in London — to be men of large wealth, vieing with the noble, if not with the princely. Among Canning's ships was one of nine hundred tons. J Sebastian Cabot, the real discoverer of America, saded from Bristol. Besides their manufactories, their warehouses, and their guild halls in this country, our merchants had their ' factory' companies and establishments in nearly every state of Europe, from Italy to Norway. § It was this industry which enabled the nation to bear the cost of its many * Anderson, i. 223, 296, 301. Rymer, xii. 261. f Hakluyt, 197. J Anderson, i. 271. § Rymer, viii, 360, 464, j 1 1 ; x. 400. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 463 wars, and the stiU greater cost of the relation in which book iv. it stood to the rapacious court of Rome. The inland CHAP' *' roads were few — mostly for the pack-horse, rarely for wheels. Bridges were not numerous, often out of repair; and the fordable points of rivers were so fre quently impassable, that villages and towns grew up in such places to accommodate detained travellers. Hence the many towns having names ending with ' ford.' The tolls on roads and bridges were, at the same time, considerable, in r some districts arbitrary and oppressive, and made sources of feudal revenue. Time, however, gradually diminished these incon veniences and grievances ; and that English arm which knew so well how to spring the bow or wield the battle-axe, achieved for itself conquests over diffi culties of other kinds, on a scale sufficient to make the England which owned the sway of the Tudor-s a far more wealthy inheritance than it had been in the hands of the earlier Plantagenets. It was natural that this progress in industry, ingenuity, and wealth, through the towns of England, should have made them centres of a new feeling of independence. From the towns this feehng passed into the country at large. It is to be regretted that our knowledge concerning impedi- the agriculture of the Middle Age does not keep pace ^culture. with our knowledge concerning other departments of its industry. Husbandry can be successful only in proportion to the skiU and capital expended upon it. But rude ages do not supply skill, and the irregulari ties of such times are unfavourable to outlay. Long after the irruption of the northern nations the greater part of Europe remained uncultivated. The tided and enclosed lands, in most countries, were not more than a fraction of the soU that might have been brought under such culture. To the soil which was left as common land, that must be added which was covered with forest, or allowed to become mere moor-land or morass. Wars, uncertainties of tenure, heavy manorial 464 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. exactions, and a general prejudice against the enclo- Chap" *• sure of waste lands, were all causes tending to perpe tuate this indifferent state of agriculture. We have seen that at the Conquest, agriculture in this country was accounted as in an advanced state, not only by the Normans, but by the French. In comparison with Germany, and other European states, its condition must have been stiU more favourable. But the face of England, even when the earlier effects of the Conquest had subsided, and when the new order of things had become comparatively settled, was little like the present. Many of the castles of those days stiU exist, more or less in decay. But the deep forests which they overlooked, or in which they were embosomed, are gone. The cleared ground, here and there, amidst the woodlands, has expanded into a wide and fertile husbandry. Even the bogs have become fruitful fields ; and the rude cabins in which the serf or the viUein housed their families, have been dis placed by the cheerful village homes, which now rise up everywhere, by the side of viUage roads which seem to reach almost everywhere. If we may credit Domesday Booh, the proportion of cultivated to uncultivated ground in England towards the close of the eleventh century, was sur prisingly small. But the accuracy of many entries in that record may be doubted ; and the twenty years which intervened between the battle of Hastings and the taking of that survey, were years of such ruinous disorder, that agriculture must have suffered greatly. Before long, however, the Norman began to see that he must cease to be a spoliator, or cease to have a pro perty in his land. Encouragement, accordingly, was given, after awhile, to rural industry. One of the earliest indications of progress was seen in the en closure of marsh and waste lands. Ground was fre quently parceUed out on certain conditions among the villagers, which they cultivated, and which became by degrees private property. Men of some substance INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 465 frequently purchased the right of enclosure. An act book iv. of parliament, in the reign of Henry III., em- CllAP' *' powered the lord of the manor to take this course with his waste lands, sufficient pasture being left for the common use of the freeholders. The ground brought under cultivation, in different ways, increased so steaddy, that in the thirteenth and fourteenth century the enclosed land in the southern and eastern counties was nearly as extended as at present. In the west and the north, much remained to be done. Of the proportion of arable land to pasture land we know little, as in the reports concerning pasture land the distinction between the enclosed and the unenclosed was not generaUy observed.* In 1425 a law was passed granting a general per- a com-iaw. mission to export corn, with two restrictions only — it was not to be sent to the country of an enemy in time of war ; and it might be stayed, when the public good seemed to require it, by an order from the king in councU. Some twenty years later, the landholders began to complain of the undue importation of corn, alleging that it had reduced the price of that commo- * Prom some facts known to us, the nobles of the Middle Age would seem to bave been to a large extent the cultivators of their own estates — and the landlords in general appear to have been men of large estates. ' The extensive county of Norfolk had only sixty-six proprietors. The owners of such extensive possessions resided almost entirely on their estates, and, in most instances, kept them in their own hands. The elder Spencer, in his petition to Parliament in the reign of Edward II., in which he complaius of the outrages committed on his lands, reckons among his moveable property, 28,000 sheep, 1000 oxen, 1200 cows, 500 cart horses, 2000 hogs, 600 bacons, 80 carcasses of beef, 600 sheep in the larder (the three last articles were probably salted provisions), 10 tuns of cyder, and arms for 200 men : and in the following reign, in 1367, the stock on the land of a great prelate, the bishop of Winchester, appears, by an in quisition taken at his death, to have amounted to 127 draft-horses, 1556 head of black cattle, 3876 wethers, 4777 ewes, 34 j I lambs.'— Eden's State of the Poor, i. 54. From these facts it has;been reasonably in ferred that the greater part of Spencer's estate, as well as of the other nobility in those times, was farmed by the landlord himself, managed by his steward or bailiff, and cultivated by his villeins. 1 H H 466 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. dity so as to have brought the farmer to the verge Chap a • — Z' of ruin. The result was the enacting of a corn-law, which provided ' that when the quarter of wheat did ' not exceed the price of 6s. 8d., rye 45., and barley 3*. ' no person should import any of those kinds of grain ' upon forfeiture of the same.'* ftwSb8 °f ^e Progress °f ^e industrial arts, by adding so ' much to the population and importance ofthe towns, made them a refuge to multitudes who were not at ease under the harsh treatment of the baron or the manorial landlord. Even the slave, as we have seen, if he could only manage to retain his footing for a year and a day in a town became free. Additions were thus constantly made to the constantly increasing numbers in such places who would be born free. In the meanwhUe, the causes which had long tended to increase the number of comparatively free labourers, and free tenants, upon the soil, had therein increased the class of persons who would be sure to direct their thoughts, more or less, towards town life, as towns became distinguished by inteUigence, wealth, and comfort. Even the abbey lands, in this view, became a normal school for -citizens. The wars, too, of our Norman kings, especially those of Edward I. and Edward III., carried on as they were in a foreign land, disturbed all those feudal relations which had connected the people of England so immediately with its sod, and brought about a large amount of virtual manumission. Military life and feudal serfdom, or even feudal vUleinage, were little compatible. The service of the soldier, which took him from his home, and often out of the kingdom, detached him of neces sity from predial servitude; and the service of the sailor was always left, for the same reason, to be that of the free-man. In the fourteenth century this con stant drifting of the population from the country to * Statutes, 4th Hen. VI. ; 3rd Ed. IV. Sir P. Eden's State of the Poor, c. i. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 467 the town, had so diminished the number of agricul- book iv. tural labourers, that great complaint arose on that C^^J- ground; and when, in 1349 the great pestUence dimi nished the hands left for such labour stdl more, the parliament began to take the question of employer and employed under its consideration, as the great question of the time. The course taken by the parliament was, to fix the Parliament wages for aU kinds of husbandry and handicraft, and 0? wages. to make it penal in any man to refuse to do the work required from him on the prescribed terms. At the same time, severe regulations were adopted against aU begging by able-bodied men. To work for a given wage or to starve, was the alternative which these laws were intended to place before every working man. At first, wages were thus fixed wholly irrespective of the varying price of commodities. But subsequently, ejther better knowledge or better feeling disposed the legislature to amend its proceedings in this particular. But to the last, our parliaments, during this period, never seemed to doubt that they were more competent to judge than the parties themselves, concerning what the relation should be between master and man. It was found, however, to be more easy to issue re gulations on this subject, than to secure obedience to them. The spirit of resistance appears to have been general and determined. Hence, in 1360, ten years later, the Statute of Labourers enjoined that no labourer should quit his abode, or absent himself from his work, on pain of imprisonment fifteen days, and of having the letter F fixed upon his forehead with a hot hon. It was further provided in this statute, that the town refusing to deliver up a run away labourer, should forfeit ten pounds to the king, and five pounds to the employer. In 1378 the commons repeat their lamentation over the general disregard of this statute. Husbandmen, they say, continue to fly to the great towns, where they become seamen, artificers, and clerks, to the great detriment h h 2 468 ' ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. of agriculture. After another ten years, we find the HAP' *' same assembly deploring the same evil, in the same terms, and endeavouring to correct it by new penal ties. So far did our parliaments carry their meddling in such things in those days, that they determined the kinds of food the labourer should eat, and the quality of the cloth that he should wear.* These facts are all significant. They not only show us what were the notions of political economy prevalent with our legislators in those days, but, what is much more material, they show us that the great mass of working men in town and country had now come to be free men, claiming the right to take their labour to the market that should be most to their ad vantage. In this fact we have a great social revolution. Our House of Commons does not appear to ad vantage in their manner of dealing with this question. It should have seen, that to become a party to such laws in relation to industry, was to become a mere tool in the hands of the Upper House. The rod of feudalism was visibly broken, and these commoners belonged to the class of men who had broken it. Con sistency required that they should have done their best to strengthen the wrork of their own hands. But, in common with many timid reformers, they appear to have become alarmed at their own success. It was this middle-class caution which disposed them to take the side of the barons, when they should have taken the side of their dependents. w fnthe" -^ot th^ the rate of wages in those times, as com- fo^e«ith pared with the price of commodities, was such as to constitute a serious ground of complaint. Indeed, it is hardly to be doubted that the working men of Eng land in the fourteenth century, were better able to century. * The Bolls of Parliament contain much relating to this subject. See ii. 296, 340, 450 ; iii. 46, 49, 158. Sir P. Eden, On the State of the Poor in England, c. i. It is evident that the clergy, to their honour, deemed the new laws concerning labour severe, and that the abbey lands became a refuge to many wbo had been much oppressed elsewhere. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 469 sustain a famUy by their earnings than the same class book iv. of men among ourselves. If the most competent Chap' *' judges are right, in supposing the population of Eng land in those times to have been less than three mil lions, we have only to remember the drain that was made on that population by almost ceaseless wars, and by occasional pestilence, to feel assured that labour must then have been a commodity of high value. This fact may suggest that the condition of the industrious classes in England under our Norman kings, could hardly have been so degraded as it is sometimes said to have been, and may suffice to explain how the people of this country came to be distinguished by that feeling of independence, and that passion for freedom, which is so variously, and so generally, attri buted to them by ancient writers. In such a state of society, the servile class would be too valuable as pro perty, not to be on the whole well treated, and every thing would naturaUy tend to hasten the extinction of such service. One of the most cautious of our historians, after the most careful investigation of the subject, supposes a penny in the time of Edward III. to have been equal to two shillings of our present money.* The Statute of Labourers, accordingly, which, in 1350, fixed threepence a day, without food, for a reaper in harvest time, determined that the pay for such service should be in reality equal to six - shiUings a day. At other times, the wages were no doubt something lower, but rarely so low as not to leave the condition of the husbandman one of compa rative comfort. Hence animal food was more or less common on the tables of working men, and to this cause Sh John Fortescue attributes the strength and courage which made the English so superior to the French. In the time of Henry VI. a penny was not worth more than sixteen pence of our money ; but the wages of the reaper, and of a common workman em- * Hallam's Middle Ages, iii. c. ix. p. 2. 470 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. Decline of feudalism. book iv. ployed in building, were in nearly the same proportion CHAP' *' above the average in the time of Edward III. It is to be remembered, .too, that in those times, neither rich nor poor were accustomed to look on many of the luxuries or comforts familiar to ourselves as at aU necessary. The probability seems to be, that the artisan and labouring classes under the Plantagenets, were t>n the whole better fed, better clothed, and better housed than the majority of the same class in our time. There is much, in the descriptions of the com mon people of this country in our old historians and poets, especiaUy in the pages of Chaucer, to sustain this view.* So, by slow degrees, the chUdren of the soU of Eng land rose in influence, and in the consciousness of possessing it. The Saxon element again became as cendant in our history, and the feudal element de clined. It was the work of a single generation to give completeness to the feudal system in this country. It was the work of many generations so far to dis place it. We have seen that the Saxon and Danish periods in English history were in many respects unfavourable to the progress of industrial art ; and the same may be said of the times which followed, until something more than a century has passed. But we have now reached the point when two probabilities concerning the future of this country become perceptible. Eng land now promises to be a great industrial power, and a power of much influence in Continental affairs. The nation has become one, is comparatively free, and the land is covered with myriads of men busy in con structing ships, in creating towns, in rearing castles Industry past and present. * Eden's State of the Poor, c. i. In the fourteenth century the work of a labourer could purchase as much wheat in six days, as would require the work of ten or twelve days from the modern labourer. The relation between the rate of wages and the price of meat was in nearly the same proportion. But this was the rate of harvest wages, and some what above the ordinary payment. — Hallam's Middle Ages, iii. 453. INDUSTRIAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 471 and cathedrals, in adorning palaces, and bent on book iv. competing in artistic skill with the most favoured C^J- states. The ships of aU countries float in the sea ports of England ; and the English merchant, visited by traders from all lands in his own mart, is greeted in his turn in the marts of distant nations. The in fluence of this industrial power on the intelligence, the hberty, and the religion of the nation remains to be considered ; while, in regard to foreign politics, the relations which subsisted between our Norman kings and France, continued long enough to raise this growing unity and wealth of England into the place of a new power in the affairs of Europe. CHAPTER III. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. book iv. npHE settlement of the English language in its sub- — '—' JL stance as we now possess it, was the work of the settlement thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The writings of English^ Chaucer and Barbour show that over nearly the whole of the country which now bears the name of England, together with the Lowlands of Scotland, the language spoken during the latter half of the fourteenth century was in the main the same, and, in fact, the language we now speak. Cornwall had a dialect of its own ; the Welshman spoke his Welsh, and the Highland- man spoke his Gaelic ; but the speech of Britain everywhere else was the English tongue. The clerk might write in Latin, and sometimes converse in it ; and nobles, with others who aspired'to be of the upper class, might still show some fondness for the use of a deteriorated Norman-French; but with the nation, the English was felt to be the tongue of the country, and was spoken of as such. It was the language commonly heard from the lips of courtiers and peasants — bating, of course, the difference which is always observable in the utterance of the same tongue by classes so much severed from each other.* * Chaucer describes the Prioress, in his Canterbury Tales, as speaking French fluently, but adds that it was French as taught in the school at ' Stratford atte Bow,' of French as spoken in Paris she had no knowledge. ' Let the clerkes,' says Chaucer, ' endyten in Latyn, for they have the pro- pertye in science and the knowinge in that facultye, and lette Frenchmen in theyr Prenche also endyte theyr queynt termes, for it is kyndly [natural] to theyr mouthes j and let us shewe our fantasyes in such wordes INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 473 The Anglo-Saxon language, as it obtained in this book iv. country before the Conquest, began about a century Chap" *' later to give place to the language since known as Enghsh. For a considerable interval this change consisted much less in the adoption of anything new from the French, than in the natural simplification and development of the Saxon. Notwithstanding the disadvantages of their condition, the Saxon population grew in numbers and in intelligence. Men whose names bespoke their Saxon origin, are found among dignitaries in the church, and among professors in the. universities. The English language shared in this improvement, becoming more easy in its structure, and possessing a greater fulness of expression. The fact that the French was so long spoken side by side with the Saxon, must have made the English familiar with many words and forms of speech which were of French origin. But, on the other hand, French, as the language of conquerors, possessed no attraction for the conquered. It does not appear, accordingly, that the influence of the French language upon the English was very perceptible, untU the French, in its turn, began to give place to the improved native dialect. As the Norman learnt to use the speech of the Saxon, the Saxon felt less indisposed to express himself in terms borrowed from the Norman. The result of the admix ture thus realized is seen in the language of Chaucer and Wycliffe — the language of the former embraces that freer use of terms from the Norman common as we learneden of our dames [mother] tongue.' In 1385 a writer makes mention of the teaching of English as having become common in all the schools of England, to the neglect of French, and comments on the advantage and disadvantage of the change. — Trevisa's translation of Hig- den. See Tyrwhitt's Essay on the Language of Chaucer. The statute passed which required the pleadings in the law courts to be in English, not as hitherto, in French, dates from 1362. But the language from the throne, if not the language used in parliament, continued to be French for some time longer. This la*, in fact, ordained that ' all schoolmasters should teach tbeir scholars to construe in English, and not in French, as they had hitherto used.'— Pari. Hist. i. 127, 128. 474 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. with the more educated classes ; that of the latter con- HAP" 3" sisting of the more pure and idiomatic Saxon prevalent with the people at large. The framework of the Anglo- Saxon remains through all changes, and all adopted words are made to conform to it. The words, too, which are expressive of common objects, and common relations, are nearly all Saxon to the last. The new words retained, have to do mostly with the new objects, and forms of life, introduced by the strangers. As before stated, the wars between France and England, during the long reign of Edward IIL, tended strongly towards this severance between" the languages of the two nations thus opposed to each other, as between much beside. During the fifteenth century, our lan guage suffers from the pedantic use of Latin words, more than from any other cause. influence of But the influence of the French language in this "fr pii CII DIG- ^ tricai ro- country, was strengthened for a whUe by the action of ' '" the metrical and romance literature which became prevalent. For a time this literature was confined to the French language. The traces of Saxon or Eng lish verse from the Conquest to the latter half of the thirteenth century are singularly few and meagre. By the latter period, according to the best critics in such matters, some of our most popular metrical romances — such as Sir Tristem, King Horn, King Alexander, and Havelok the Dane — began to make their appearance. Marie de France, Denys Pyram, Grossetete, Wadington, Chardry, Adam de Ros, and Hedie of Winchester, are among the writers born, or resident, in England, who distinguished themselves about this time as the writers of French verse. While the French language was so generaUy understood, from its being to many their native tongue, these writers were all more or less read. But the time was at hand in which the spirit of these performances was to migrate from the French language into the English. It is a common remark, that poetry, or verse, has been the earliest form of popular hterature in all INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 475 nations. It was thus assuredly in the history of book iv. Enghsh literature. The Latin poetry or prose which °HAP' 3' maybe said to have preceded the English metrical ?|8e,of me" „ r . ° . ., tnoai com- romances, came from ecclesiastics, and was designed position in for readers of that order. The first use of the English English' language for the purposes of an English literature, was in the ballad, or in the tale elaborated into verse. The earliest of those tales or histories in English verse, which were to be so multiplied in this period of our history, may be dated from about the middle of the thirteenth century. During the next century and a half, there was an extraordinary supply of such works. The pieces which have survived, and which have been printed within the last hundred years, form a considerable library. They were to the readers of those times, what the Lady of the Lake and Marmion were among ourselves in the first quarter of the pre sent century. But the differences between the modern poetical romance and the ancient, were in many respects great. In most cases the story passed into English from the French. This was the case even with that large por tion of those tales which were clearly not themselves of French origin. Italian, and stUl more British, tradi tions, were made accessible to the English bard, almost exclusively through the French. British legends had found a home in "Wales, in Scotland, and in Brittany, when little or no place was left to them in England. Creations of Italian, and even ofthe Arab genius, would make then way more readily to the south of France, than directly to the shores of Britain. By the resi dence of the popes, during the greater part of a century, at Avignon, France and Italy became almost as one country. Tyrwhitt doubts if there be a single com position of this description in our language before the age of Chaucer, which is not a translation, or an imi tation, of some earlier composition in French. This scale of borrowing was resorted to with the less scruple, inasmuch as writers of this class rarely attached 476 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. their names to their performances. Their works — L ' were produced, but by whom was for the most part unknown. British tra- But it must not be forgotten that the prose romance basiTof e of Geoffrey of Monmouth is as old as the oldest metrical ture.litera romance in French, and that if the English borrowed, in the manner stated, in the thirteenth century from the French, the French had been indebted for a large portion of the material of their fictions to the genius of the aborigines of this island. The most popular elements of this early Anglo-Norman literature were manifestly derived from the traditions of the Britons.* So general was the disposition to read such writings in the fourteenth century, that the romance in English, soon superseded the romance in French, with every grade of readers. The fifteenth century — in nearly all respects an interval of retrocession — was less produc tive of such works. The prose romance had then made its appearance ; and the earlier metrical compo sitions needed to be considerably modernized. With the sixteenth century came a further change in lan guage ; and, above aU, the grave struggle of the Reformation, which left men as little leisure as incli nation to occupy themselves with Middle- Age fictions. During more than two centuries from that time, this portion of our literature appears to have sunk into utter oblivion. Some faint memory of traditions con cerning Robin Hood is nearly all that seemed to have survived. character But the reader must not turn to these ancient nar- tricaicom? "natives with his modern ideas of metrical romance. positions. Marmion, or the Lady of the Lake, in common with Ivanhoe or Rob Roy, is designed to present a true pic ture of the times to which the story has relation. But in the case of the ancient romance writer, to realize pictures of that description would have required, not only genius, but learning, and discrimination, See pp. 1 14, 433-437 of this volume. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 477 much exceeding anything generally possessed in those book iv. days. Writers of this class, as before observed, often CBAr' ?' give you the manners of their own time in times long past, and of their own land in lands far distant. Gro tesque are the admixtures of this kind which some times make their appearance. The imagination dis penses with aU the hmits imposed by history or geo graphy. Scarcely less strange, in some cases, is the fantastic chivahy to which the writer wOuld fain do homage. While, in regard to genius, a recurrence of the rhyme or metre, is often the. only semblance to poetry discoverable; and where the passion or fancy rises higher, it is too frequently disfigured by conceits which you are expected to admire as great beauties, or with pedantries which you are expected to praise as the evidence of learning. But our pleasures are compara tive. The tedious in these tales was often relieved by more pleasant matter. The writer not unfrequently threw a hearty force and directness into his narrative. As a whole, they were a marvellous improvement on anything of the kind that had preceded them. The rhythm gave them the charm of music, and served to aid the memory in retaining them — especially some of then more popular and pleasant passages. The stories, from their novelty and incident, were generaUy of themselves deeply interesting to the minds to which they were addressed, so that httle needed to be sup plied by the narrator to secure attention. To us, however, their value is purely historical. They reveal to us something of the culture and inner life of our ancestors. In this view their errors, rudeness, and imperfections, are hardly less instructive than then higher qualities. We judge of men by what is pleas ing to them or not pleasing, and by what they do or cannot do. In this view, the rudest products of the past, furnish the materials of history for the present. They are to us that past, as living in the work of its own thought and affection. It would not be just to say we have no poetry in 478 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the English language before Chaucer. The rhyming HAP' 3' Chronicles of Robert of Gloucester and of Robert de Brunne may not be described as poetry. But the verse of Lawrence Minot has some of the true inspira tion in it. pkrs piaw- - In the Vision of Piers Plowman, we find a real paint ing of character and manners, reminding us often of the hand of Chaucer in that field of art. The music of this Fision comes in part from rhyme, and in part from aUiteration — from the use of words with the same sound at the close, and of others with the same letter at the beginning. The poem bears evidence of being written about the year 1360 ; and its author is sup posed to have been a monk residing somewhere near the Malvern HUls. It consists of more than fourteen thousand verses. These verses embrace twenty sec tions, and each section appears to have been designed to present a distinct vision. The plan, however, is but imperfectly preserved. Its object is to describe the difficulties and perils which beset the true Christian pilgrim, who is bent on ending the crusade of this life virtuously and piously — and the subject through out is treated allegorically. The author of Piers Plowman, accordingly, was the John Bunyan of the fourteenth century. But the Plowman is of a sharp, satirical temperament. Vice never crosses his path without fading under his lash, and the stroke never descends so heartily as when the delinquent is found under a religious garb. As depicting the great need of ecclesiastical reformation, the Plowman has his place by the side of Wycliffe. But, unhke Wycliffe, he is content to censure the men, he spares the system. His censures, however, are so far unsparing. This feature ofthe work made it highly popular when it appeared ; and when printed by our English Pro testants in the sixteenth century, three editions were sold in one year. Its popularity shows the spirit of the age, especially in reference to church matters. That a man of sagacity should have written such a INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 479 work, is evidence that he knew a freedom and bold- book iv. ness of thinking to be abroad which seemed to war- CtIAP' 3' rant his so doing — and the result assures us that he was not mistaken. So the Vision conducts us to reality. We have, in it both a product and a reflexion of the times. Corruptions of all sorts were prevalent. But it is manifest that the moral feeling which could detect them as such, and the power which could lay them bare effectuaUy, were not wanting. So much of the inteUectual and the moral aspects of English life in the fourteenth century may we see in this old poem.* As a satirist of manners, and of the manners of Chaucer- the clergy and of the religious orders, Chaucer is not at aU less outspoken than Piers Plowman. Such free dom was in the spirit of the age. It is in the paint ing of character, even to its minutest finish, that Chaucer is especially felicitous, and on such painting he has bestowed his chief labour. He is eminently the poet of men and manners. What may be learnt from his pictures touching the religious life of the age we shaU mark elsewhere. But poet of manners as he is, the compass of subject included in his works is a conspicuous fact relating to them. His characters, and his descriptions of social hfe, include the good and bad. Milton seems to find it easy to become either angel or devil, according to the occasion ; and Chaucer appears to have the power of understanding the plea sures of the most ethereal virtue, and those found in the most free and riotous indulgence of the sensuous passions. The comedy and tragedy of earth, the heU in it, and the heaven above it, were open to him. Hence, while some of his descriptions are so impure as not to admit of being read to the ear of a second person, others are so elevated as to seem to be ad dressed to natures in a higher condition of being than the present. In this respect, the compass of his genius * The best edition of this work is that by Mr. Thomas Wright, pub lished in 1S42. 480 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. reminds us of Goethe. His universe'embraced the real ClIAP' _' and the ideal — his poet's world, and the world in which he lived hke other ordinary mortals. Some poets, indeed, have brought a richer inspiration to the lofty and unseen, but none have seized on the immediate and the actual in man or in nature with more truthfulness, freshness, or completeness. His men and women have the fidelity of a photograph, while every shade is felt as coming from the hand of a living artist ; and in regard to nature, the blue sky, the floating cloud, the golden hght, the shady forest, the flowery plain, and the song of birds, aU have their poetry for him. So, too, had worldly pomp, when he thought of its evanescence; and loving hearts, when he thought of their tender sorrows. The plant flourishes in the sod and the atmosphere genial to it. Culture, even the culture of genius, is to a large extent derived. It is the result' of the out ward acting on the inward. Men of genius are as the great mountains of a land, piled up from it, but stiU of it. They do not create their age, they become its highest embodiment and articulation. Their utterances are the utterances of what multitudes about them think, but what few or none about them know how to express. What they say, is what all men feel they would themselves have said. They act upon the time, but the time has first acted upon them. They return to it its own — its own with usury. Chaucer was learned in hterature. But his learned material had -been made accessible to him by other hands. He dis courses on themes borrowed from old Greece and old Rome, and from modern Italy. Much of this ancient and modern learning had come to him through France. But in his day, whatever was French may be said to have been English. With the Norman blood came the things which Norman taste was dis posed to patronize. What might otherwise have been foreign, became naturalized. Then, in regard to home subjects, with which the genius of Chaucer INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 481 is so much occupied, the material of these lay every- book iv. where about him. His canvas is so rich, because the Chap' 3" real life from which he copied was so opulent. The spirit of the age was a free spirit, such as had not been known since the Conquest, and the result was a development of character in individuals and classes on a scale new in our history. The charm of the poet's pictures rested on their naturalness, on its being felt that the types had their prototypes. Mine host of the Tabbard, and the motley cavalcade which he mar shals, and from whom he gets utterance in such variety, with so much skill, were all such as would be felt to be true to the life of that time. Men remem bered as they read that they had seen such people before, and had heard such talk before. True the selections are sagaciously made. The characters have strong individuality. But the poet knew the observa tion of the time to be wakeful, that it was itself disposed to make such selections, and well prepared to appreciate them when made. Chaucer, then, is to us the man of his time, and the study of his works becomes a study of his time. The virtue and the villany, the humble piety and the sleek hypocrisy, the strong sense, the sharp wit, the sly humour, the jubilant freshness, the bounding frolic, which come up before us as we read him, all were in substance before himself in the actual ' life of that memorable fourteenth century in English history. In his own great field of description, the Father of Enghsh poetry is still in possession of the throne. No man has surpassed him : and in the England he depicts, we see aU the high qualities in action to which the England of the present owes her greatness. It is common to mention Gower with Chaucer, Gower. inasmuch as the two were not only contemporaries and friends, but aspired to the same honours. The ' moral Gower,' however, as he is called, is not so much a poet as a preacher, and his sermons are often not a little wearisome. Episodes — disquisitions I li 482 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. rather — on such topics as theology, mythology, chapj. j^qj.^ alchemy, and astronomy, are too frequent in his pages to allow of their being in any degree popular among ourselves, to say nothing of the platitudes and declamations with which his unskilled and tedious aUegories are overlaid. But it is certain that these compositions were much read by the upper classes in his day, and the Confessio Amantis, Gower's later and most important work, was written in English. Both these facts are suggestive. The passion for reading must have been strong, which could surmount such a test of patience ; and a great . revolution in language and literature must have taken place, when a man writes an elaborate poem at the command of a Plan- tagenet king, to please a Plantagenet court, and writes it in English. Considerable effort was made to sustain the foreign tongue, as the ' birth-tongue' of the country was found to be fast gaining upon it. When the victory of Cressy was to be celebrated, strange to say, it was in the language of the vanquished, not in that of the victors. But in 1346, Edward III. censured the men who would wish cto blot out the English tongue;' and in 1349, he appeared at a tournament with an English motto on his shield. John of Gaunt was stUl more conspicuous in his patronage of the native language : and the insurgents at Smithfield were charmed into submission by it, as it was ad dressed to them from the lips of the young king Richard.* English The oldest prose writer in our language since the MaunTe- Conquest is Sh John MaundevUle. The voyages and Tille- travels of this worthy knight are full of Middle Age legends and marvels. It is not surprising, accord- * Mr. Coxe, of the Bodleian Library, has shown from the roll of the duke of Gloucester's effects at Pleshy in 1397, how much our nobility were disposed down to that time to bestow their patronage exclusively ou French literature. In this catalogue there are more than twenty romances, all of which had long been translated into English, but the duke's copies are all in French. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 483 ingly, that his narratives should have been from the book iv. first highly popular. Sir John brought his thirty- CnAP' 3' four years' travel to a close in 1356, and he introduces himself as foUows to the readers of his book. We omit the old spelling, but retain the exact words. ' And for as much as it is long time passed that ' there was no general passage ne [nor] voj'age over ' the sea, and many men desire for to hear speak of ' the Holy Land, and han [have] thereof great solace ' and comfort, I, John Maundeville, knight, all be it ' I be not worthy, that was born in England, in the ' town of St. Albans, passed the sea in the year of ' our Lord Jesus Christ, 1322, in the day of St. ' Michael ; and hitherto have been long time over the ' sea, and have seen and gone through many divers ' lands, and many provinces, and kingdoms, and isles, ' and have passed through Tartary, Persia, and Arme- ' nia — the Little and the Great ; through Libya, ' Chaldea, and a great part of Ethiopia; through ' Amazon, India, the Less and the More, a great part ; ' where dweU many divers folks, and of divers manners ' and laws, and of divers shapes of men. Of which ' lands and isles I shall speak more plainly hereafter. ' And I shaU devise you [apprise you of] some part of ' things that there be, when time shall be after it may ' best come to my mind ; and especially for them that ' wiU [wish] and are in purpose to visit the Holy City ' of Jerusalem, and the Holy Places that are there ' about. And I shah tell the way that they should ' hold thither. For I have ofttimes passed and ridden ' the way, with good company of many lords, God be ' thanked. And ye shall understand that I have put ' this book out of Latin into French, and translated ' it again out of French into English, that every man ' of my nation may understand it.' It wiU be seen that the terms and construction of this language differ but little from those now in use among us. The prose of Wycliffe is more fluent and forcible than that of his contemporary Maundeville; 1 1 2 484 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. but it is not in general so precise and accurate. Sir chapj. j0}jn wag fae man 0f one ]300]£j an(j at tig leisure, and might be expected to be painstaking. The reformer had a different and a greater work to do, and less time to bestow on the almost numberless tracts and trea tises which proceeded from his pen. We should add, however, that his prose in his translation of the Scrip tures was unsurpassed in his time. In Chaucer we have the real man of letters, and we expect his prose to present the language in that form in its best con dition. The following is the first paragraph from his Persones Tale. We again omit the old speUing. Our sweet Lord God of Heaven, that no man wiU perish [wiUs no man to perish], but wUls that we come aU to the knowledge of him, and to the blissful life that is perdurable announestith us by the pro phet Jeremiah, that saith in this wise — ;Stand upon the ways, and see and axe of old paths, that is to say, of old sentence, which is the good way, and ye shall find refreshing for your souls, &c. Many be the ways spiritual that lead folk to our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the reign of glory, of which ways there is a full noble way and convenable which may not fail to man nor to woman, that through sic path misgone from the right way of Jerusalem celestial ; and this way is.cleped [caUed] penitence. Of which men should gladly hearken and inquire with all here [their] heart, to wit, what is penitence, and whence it is cleped penitence, and in how many manners be the actions or workings of penitence, and how many species be of penitences, and which things appertain and behove to penitence, and which things disturb penitence.' This is not an improvement upon the prose of Sir John Maundeville, scarcely upon that of Wycliffe, in the most hasty of his compositions. But we see in it the well-head of the great stream now cherished as our mother tongue. occieveand Chaucer left the English language a powerful in- .ydgate. strilment. But it was a weapon which no poet for INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 485 more than a centurv after him was competent to wield, book iv. Scores of men appeared during that period who at- Z' tempted verse ; but of these Occleve and Lydgate are the only names that have seemed to be worth re membrance. And even these have their place in our hterary histories, less from desert, than from its being deemed proper, where so many are passed by as worth less, to mention at least one or two as being a shade better than the rest. In this attempt to enter into the educated thought Progress and feehng of our ancestors in the thirteenth and four- ence of art. teenth centuries, the influence of the fine arts in those times should not be overlooked. The life of the Con queror was consumed with care to uphold a great mili tary power, and to secure the estates and the revenue necessary to that object. His son Rufus was still less disposed to look to art as a source of pleasure. It is with Henry I. that the new movement in this direction commences. We have seen that the Normans had shown Norman ar- themselves great admirers of architecture before their g^f^ce connexion with this country. But in this respect, as j£„tllj^;arly in others, the Norman intellect had realized little in Normandy compared with what it was to realize in England. Saxon architecture was a rude imitation of the Roman. The same may be said of the Nor man. In little more than a century after the Con quest, the heavy Norman arches and pUlars were to be displaced, in nearly aU ecclesiastical edifices, by the lighter and more elegant constructions now known as the ' Early Enghsh.' The Norman style was weU adapted to fortifications and castles ; but when the pointed Gothic made its appearance, about the middle of the twelfth century, it became at once the favourite with all churchmen, and in those days churchmen were the great architects. Chichester, Hereford, and Durham, show what the genius was, in this respect, which the Normans brought with them into England. Salisbury, Canterbury, and York, show the more re- 486 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. fined conceptions of art which were to become familiar — L_ ' to them when they had themselves become more Eng lish than Norman. With this advance of taste in the general form of such buildings, came a corresponding improvement in regard to everything contributing towards the decora tion of them. Furniture, sculpture, painting, stained glass, carved wood, and monumental brasses, aU make their appearance in a higher style of workmanship. It was in the cathedrals of England that the general taste developed itself which was to extend by degrees to the guild of the merchant, the castle of the baron, and the palace of the king. The struggle between the Norman and the early English styles of building is perceptible to the end of the twelfth century. But from that time the English becomes ascendant. The cathedrals completed in the time of Henry II. are those of Carlisle, Norwich, Peterborough, Rochester, Winchester, Canterbury, and York, and in aU these the English taste is predominant. The fraternities of masons were of eminent service in these works, but the zealous ecclesiastic was the great patron of such undertakings, and the gifted Englishman was often an able coadjutor in such labours. It is, however, in the long reigns of Henry III. and Edward III. that the encouragement of genius in this direction is most con spicuous. Henry III. knew little of the science of government, but he was a munificent patron of art. We still possess records containing instructions given by him to a number of architects, sculptors, painters, and goldsmiths, and stating the sums paid for their services.* It seems certain, that in his time, our painters painted in oil, but it was no doubt left to Van Eyck to excel them greatly in the manner of using that substance. It is certain, also, that their paint- * Issues of the Exchequer, by P. Devon, and Botuli Literarum Clausarum, by T. D. Hardy. It would be easy to fill many pages with extracts from these sources relating to this topic. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 487 ings embraced historical subjects ; of which some judg- book iv: ment may be formed from the sculpture, and illumi- Chap" 3' nated books of the time, and from such specimens of painting thus ancient as may be seen in the Chapter house of Westminster. In several instances, the artists employed by Henry III. were Englishmen ; and critics in art say that there are defects and peculiari ties in the English sculpture, which often bespeak the isolation, and self- culture, of native talent. It is this native culture which effects the transition from the rude Norman slab which covered the tomb, to the full- length figure upon it, with its costume and ornaments, and pillow for the resting of the head. The tombs of kings, prelates, and Knights Templars mark the pro gress of such tastes. In the architectural forms and ornaments, in the decorated windows, the carved oak, the waU and panel paintings, and in the rich gold smith-work, of those long-past days, we see the plea sant conceptions, the patient care, and the realized ideas, which then lived in the hearts of hving men. The increasing wealth ofthe country under Edward III. tended greatly to diffuse such tastes ; and tended, we should add, to not a little extravagance among the men and women of that generation in the fancy and cost bestowed by them on their tailoring and mil linery. Even parliament interfered to check these follies, but with little effect.* . It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose Compara- that the homes of the knights and barons of England ness in the were generaUy the seat of great refinement and splen- MlddleAee- dour. ' We have reached, in this age,' says Mr. Hal lam, ' so high a pitch of luxury, that we can hardly ' believe or comprehend the frugality of ancient times ; ' and have in general formed mistaken notions as to * Taylor's Fine Arts in Great Britain, i. c. 4, 5, 6. St. Stephen's Chapel, where until recently the House of Commons assembled, was built by Edward IIL, and beautiful as that edifice was both in its architecture and sculpture, the paintings with which its walls were originally covered are said to have been in a higher style of taste.— Ibid. i. 156. 488 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. ' the habits of expenditure which then prevailed. chapj. c Accusfome(j £0 judge of feudal and chivalrous ages ' by works of fiction, or by historians who embeUished ' their writings with accounts of occasional festivals ' and tournaments, and sometimes inattentive enough ' to transfer the manners of the seventeenth to the ' fourteenth century, we are not at all aware of the ' usual simphcity with which the gentry lived under ' Edward I. or even Henry VI. They drank little ' wine ; they had no foreign luxuries ; they rarely or ' never kept male servants, except for husbandry ; ' their horses, as we may guess by the price, were in- ' different ; they seldom travelled beyond their county. ' And even their hospitality must have been greatly ' limited, if the value of manors were really no greater ' than we find in many surveys.'* We have no doubt, that a public dinner given by a mayor of London or of Bristol, would have shown more signs of opulence and luxury than the proudest barons of England had become familiar with in their own halls. The univer- The position of Oxford and Cambridge in relation to the intellectual life of this period must have been highly influential. Nearly all the foundations for the advancement of learning in those places made their appearance during the thirteenth and fourteenth cen turies. From the almost incredible number of students which are said to have resorted to them, the educated thought of the age could not fail to be largely of their creation. But the clergy, and the religious orders, were the great teachers, and the history of those esta blishments, in consequence, is associated with the eccle siastical, more than with the secular affairs of the time, and will come most naturally under consideration when we attempt to estimate the religious life of our ancestors during this, the best portion of the Middle Age. The youth of the upper class, and in a mea sure of the middle class, appear to have given some sities. * Middle Ages, iii. 430. INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 489 years to the university studies of those days, embracing book iv. as they did, literature, natural science, metaphysics, Chap' 3' and, above all, theology. StiU, to judge concerning the intellectual life of City life- England in such times, we must look beyond what is to be found in colleges, or in books. Books are great teachers, but they are not the only teachers. Books and men are ever acting on each other, and it is their combined influence that makes society what it is. London has always been a great educator — not less so than Oxford. The handicrafts, the traffic, the adven tures in distant lands, with which the thoughts and passions of that great metropolis have ever been in terested, have added much to the stock of social intel ligence, doing largely and directly, what seats of learn ing can do only partially and indirectly. Ingenuity in production, skdl in trade, concern with govern ment — with government at Guildhall and govern ment at Westminster, all have contributed to elevate the popular capacity, and to give it discipline and power. Religion, too, has had its office in this con nexion, as we shall presently see. In the fourteenth century, Oxford had become a place where a bold resistance could be at times presented to the papal authority, and even to royal authority, in favour of a comparative liberty of thought; and London had become a place where a puritan jealousy of ecclesias tical power, and a puritan passion for freedom, seemed to prognosticate revolutions of such a nature as the country had not yet seen. CHAPTER IV. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND FROM THE DEATH OE KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. BOOK IV. Chap. 4. On the re lation be tween com merce and freedom. The Great Councilafter the Conquest. THE relation between a prosperous commerce and political freedom is rather natural than necessary. Without a moderate share of security for person and property, productive skill will do its work but imper fectly. But even an arbitrary government may give sufficient protection to the merchant to ensure the accumulation of wealth, and with that a high degree of civilization. Such a measure of protection was con ferred by Philip and Alexander ; by Cassar and Augus tus ; by the Medici and the Borghesi ; by Richelieu, Mazarin, and Louis XIV. But the brdliancy of the times with which those names are associated had no relation to pohtical liberty. In the sciences, in the arts, in the genius of every complexion in those ages, we see the splendour, not of the free, but of the ser- vde. It was a gorgeous pageant furnished by the slave to his master. The language of some men is — ¦ give us a flourishing trade and you give us everything. But the case is not so. With that gain there may come the loss of everything of real value — the loss of liberty, and an exchange of the virtues becoming the free, for the vices natural to the bondsman. Happily, in English history, the relation between the growing industry of our people and then growing freedom, is at all times perceptible. Even our Anglo- Norman kings were not possessed of power sufficient to render it safe that they should attempt to dispense with the aid of their subjects either in making laws or in imposing taxes. If there were some exceptions to POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 491 this rule, they were always exceptions. It is true book iv. their Great Council consisted of the chief tenants of cj^j_?' the crown only — but in them all the sub-tenants were supposed to be represented.* Every chief vassal was the natural protector of his sub-vassal. It was to the interest of the baron that the tenants dependent on him should not be reached by the authority of the crown in any way to their injury. He too often oppressed them himself; but it was another matter when a third party became the delinquent. In like manner, the king, who claimed all Englishmen as his subjects, became at times jealous of the powers assumed by the barons ; and the disagreements between these rival authorities, if sometimes a double mischief to the poor commonalty, were more frequently an advantage. The jealousy of each tended to keep both more within the limits of the law, such as it was. But the representative principle, which had passed ^Jn of in a measure from the Witanagemote of the Saxons the repre- to the Great Council of the new race of kings, sur- principle. vived, as we have seen in a preceding chapter, still more perceptibly in the usages of the Hundred courts, and of the County courts, which had been perpetuated from those times. In the levying of imposts, and in the administration of justice, the hundreds and the counties were all represented by their ' good men,' chosen for that purpose. It only remained that the commoner, who was allowed to administer law in the court of the county, should be allowed to be a party to * It is clear that their 'Great Council' bore no resemblance to the parliaments of Paris in a later age, whose province was simply to make record of the pleasure of the crown. The barons were convened, in express terms, for conference and deliberation on public affairs, and they often modified the proposals of the sovereign, when they did not supersede or resist them.— See Edinburgh Review, xxvi. 33 1 et seq. Allen's Growth of the Prerogative. But it must be admitted that the influence of the ' Great Council' is more conspicuous for a time in connexion with levying aids, than in regard to legislation. — The Parliaments and Councils of England. (Record Commission.) Introd. 492 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the making of law in the high court of parliament; AF'?' and that the man who was summoned to levy local taxes for local purposes, should be summoned to levy national taxes for national purposes, and the sub stance of our present constitution would be secured, even in those remote times. When this natural concession was made to the commoner, no new prin ciple was introduced. It was simply the reasonable expansion of an old one. Limited Such a change, however, was not contemplated by Grea°tfthe tita authors of the Great Charter. Their great aim charter. was to protect the subject against the arbitrariness and the spohations of the crown, by subjecting that power more effectually to the control of the law, through the medium of parliament. But the consti tution of parliament remained substantially as before. The only representation of the commons was in the class above them — in the nobles — and men do not appear to have thought at that time of representation on any broader basis. Gentry— One circumstance there was which may have tended to political for a time to preclude any such thoughts. All the England, subjects of the English crown below the actual pos sessor of a peerage were then upon a level. The dis tinction between gentry and commonalty, which obtained so generally on the Continent, was unknown in this country. The less military character of the feudal system in England is supposed to have been the principal cause of this difference, for it soon became a custom of some prevalence among us to pay a fixed sum in lieu of mUitary service. But it followed from this fact, that if the principle of representation was to be at aU extended, it could not be by an easy transition to some second privileged class, for that class did not exist. The only move possible in favour of that principle, was a move in favour of all freemen, whether landholders or burgesses, rich or poor. But this great democratic element, when once taken up, so as to get a voice in our legislature, was POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 493 to contribute in an eminent degree to the preserva- book iv. tion of the English constitution in its present form.* CaAP' 4' Just half a century intervenes between the first immediate signing of the Great Charter, and the assembling of aSft°ftto the first English House of Commons. Henry IIL, Charter' who reigned through this whole interval, was wanting in the sagacity and the energy required by his position. But even his weakness was favourable to the material prosperity of his subjects, and to a consolidation of the liberties which they had recently acquired. The Great Charter was more than once confirmed. f The practice of making money-grants in parliament de pendent on a redress of grievances, was made to be familiar to the mind of the nation through that long reign. Much was stdl done contrary to law. But a strong curb was laid from time to time on the royal prerogative by the barons. Even the clergy became zealous to uphold the Charter, as affording them their best means of security against the rapacity of the court of Rome on the one hand, and against the un reasonable demands of then sovereign — who was gene raUy the tool of that court — on the other. The king taxed his own demesne-lands and towns at pleasure, but he did not attempt to tax the nation, except with the consent of the men who were accounted its repre sentatives. In fact, from this time, a new feeling comes over the mind of the nation in regard to everything affecting its hberties. Those liberties have become greater — * Hallam, Middle Ages, ii. 476. In the custom which grew up in those times of allowing lesser tenants in capite to attend parliament along with the greater, we may discern a tendency towards the recognition, even in that quarter, of a second class of members in the national council. There is what looks like a sign of this wholesome innovation in the I jth of John. — Parliaments and Councils of England, Introd. xii. Prynne's Register. f ' The Charter of John was, in fact, superseded by that of the 9th of Henry III., which has ever since been recognised as the Great Charter of Liberties.' — Pari, and Counc. of Eng. Introd. Barrington, Observations on the Statutes. 494 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. more secure. The Great Charter has become a great ,H P" 4' landmark. It has diffused new ideas — awakened a new sense of right. The sovereign power is henceforth felt to be, and is almost everywhere asserted to be, not in the person who is privileged to wear the English crown, but in the law which that person is bound to observe and to administer. ' The king,' says Bracton, the great lawyer of the time of Henry IIL, 'the king must not be subject to any man, but ' to God and the law ; for the law makes him king. ' Let the king, therefore, give to the law what the ' law gives to him, dominion and power ; for there is ' no king where will and not law bears rule.'* Even stronger passages than these occur in the pages of this eminent authority, showing clearly that no doctrine which should place the king above the law was ac counted in that day as endurable. Speaking of the earls and barons as possessing at least a co: ordinate authority with the sovereign, Bracton writes, ' If the ' king were without a bridle, that is, the law, they ' ought to put a bridle upon him.'f Consonant with these doctrines were the proceed ings in parliament during this long reign. In 1237, the king stated that the expenses attendant on his marriage, and on the marriage of his sister to the emperor, had exhausted his resources. The barons answered that they had not been consulted on those matters, and on that ground they did not see why the costs should fall on them. J In 1241, the sum reluc tantly granted, was assigned to the care of four barons, * ' Ipse .autem rex, non debet esse sub homine, sed sub Deo et sub lege, quia lex facit regem. Attribuit igitur rex legi quse lex attribuit ei, videlicet dominationem et potestatem, non est enim rex ubi dominantur voluntas et non lex.' — Lib. i. c. 8. t Ibid. lib. ii. c. 16. X In this parliament, however, ' the earls,/bafons, et ' liberi homines,' granted ' pro se et suis vilanis' a thirtieth part of their moveables.' — Pari. and Councils of England, Henry III. The above expression indicates the gradual elevation of the class to which the term 'villein' was still applied. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 495 that it might be expended for the benefit of the king- book iv. dom. In 1244, the barons refused to make any grant, Chap" 4 alleging the mal-administration of former grants as the reason, and claiming to nominate the chief minis ters.* In 1 257, the pope had seduced the weak monarch into the project of attempting to make his second son, Edmund, king of SicUy. The embarrassments which he thus brought upon himself were overwhelming, and caUed forth the most angry feeling on the part of his subjects.f Hence the civil commotion which placed Simon de Montfort at the head of the mal content barons; and the exigency which led that nobleman to assemble the first English parhament including representatives chosen by the commons, in addition to the peers u'suaUy summoned by the crown. The writs issued by Simon de Montfort, earl ofTheflr8t Leicester, convening this memorable parliament, re- commons, quired ' the sheriffs to elect and return two knights for ll65' ' each county ; two citizens for each city ; and two bur- ' gesses for each borough in the county.5 The king's ' Great CouncU ' consisted at this time of such peers as were summoned to parliament by the king's special writ, and such of the lesser barons or tenants, holding a certain amount of land directly from the crown, as chose to be present in virtue of the royal proclamation, which had given general notice of the time and place of meeting. The knights ofthe shire were chosen by the class who were known as suitors in the county courts, that is, by aU freeholders there present, whether holding directly from the crown, or from some inter- * The clergy and nobles deliberated apart, but by a joint committee, presented a joint remonstrance, which was ill received, and the parliament adjourned. When reassembled, three weeks later, the king promised to observe the liberties sworn to at his coronation, and money was voted. In the following autumn tbe parliament refused an aid against the Welsh. In 124,$ there is the same recurrence of complaints and refusal of a supply. —Pari. Hist. f Ibid. i. 15-34. 496 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. mediate lord, and whether holding much land, or the HAP" 4' smaUest quantity. The statute restricting the right of voting for a representative in parhament to holders in the value of forty shiUings and upwards, is not older than the reign of Henry VI. The representatives of cities were of course chosen by the citizens, and the representatives of boroughs by the burgesses. But the exact qualifications of these voters cannot now be determined.* On the Continent, the fact that the municipal institutions introduced by the Romans had survived, more or less, through aU the subsequent changes, greatly influenced the relation of these bodies to the central authority of the state. But the usages of the Anglo-Saxon tything, and of the Hundred court, exhibit the forms which the principle of self- government assumed in this country, and which pre pared the way for the influence of the city and the borough on the constitution. The imposts levied on counties and on towns. were generaUy fixed in each case as the result of conferences with smaUer • bodies of men acting as delegates for a * Edinburgh Rev. vol. xxvi. 341 et seq. Hallam, Middle Ages, iii. 13-29. 'In cities and boroughs there was no systematic qualification established by law. All freeholders probably had not, under Edward I., the right of electing representatives iu parliament. Some freeholders certainly had such power; and the freeholders of cities and boroughs within the several shires, if owing suit to the county courts, may have concurred in those elections. Por the body of the laity in those counties in which taxes were usually imposed, some freeholders of the county elected representatives for the whole. For certain cities and boroughs, representatives were elected by certain persons, according to their various and incongruous constitutions, reducible to no system, and depending principally upon custom and tbe terms of charters. In some cases the freeholders in burgage-tenure returned members ; in others, the inhabitants at large; in others, both; in others, all the members of the corporation; in others, some only; in others, freeholders in burgage with other electors.' — Parliaments and Councils qf England, Introd. xxv. This is probably a true account, but the editor of the volume from which the extract is taken, seems to be too much disposed to make things of this nature appear very unsettled to a late period of our history. It has been justly said, that it is well for Englishmen that the question whether tbey are to have liberties or not, is not a question to be decided by a jury of antiquaries. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 497 larger body. The transition, it wiU be seen, was not book iv. difficult, from such conferences in. many places, to a Chap' 4' concentration of them for the common object in one place. Indeed, after the accession of Henry III. the assessing of the counties ceased to devolve upon the judges on circuit, and passed into the hands of four knights freely chosen for that service in the county court. On the authority of the Oxford parliament of 1258, moreover, every county might instruct its four knights to inquire into grievances, and to submit the result to parhament.* When Henry was about to sad on his expedition into Gascony, he required each county to send two discreet knights to meet him and his parhament at Westminster. The business of these two knights was to confer with the knights from the other counties, as to the aid which should be granted to the king.f In these instances we see the ap proaches gradually made towards a definite and set tled representation of the commons in relation to taxation, which was the nex|; step to such a represen tation for the purposes of legislation. Of course, the progress of commerce and the in- Risin? in- • fluency of crease of towns, of which we have spoken elsewhere, towns. contributed to this result. John replenished his ex chequer by adding to the number of towns which should possess the privUege of choosing their own ma gistrates ; and in the prosperity of these incipient hives of English industry we may see a main cause of the great political precedent supplied by Montfort's par- * The ordinance of this parliament was that, ' in every county, four ' discreti et legales milites' shall be chosen, who are to enquire into griev ances, and upon oath make a report on the same ; which report, sealed with their own seal and that of the county, is to be personally delivered by the sheriffs to the parliament to be holden at Westminster.' — Pari. and Councils of England, Henry III. 1258. The barons in this parlia ment went so far as to require that there should be three parliaments in a year, and chose twelve ' honest men' to meet the said parliaments on behalf of 'the community of the land.' — Ibid. This wa3 seven years before the convening of Leicester's parliament. ¦f Prynne's Register. I K K 498 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. liament, and of the influence of that precedent on CHAP'4' after times. popular at Leicester hoped, no doubt, so. to strengthen his the memory position by this expedient as to be able to subdue the ofLeiceeter. enemies opposed to him. But this supposition does not necessarily detract either from his patriotism or from his sagacity. A patriot might have deemed the thing done a right thing to do ; and a statesman . might have concluded that the right time for doing it had come. It is certain that the people generaUy saw the proceeding in this light. Dishonours and spolia tions came thickly upon Leicester and his foUowers ; but in the esteem of the ' baron's party,' as they were called, that is, of nearly the whole commonalty of the land, Montfort was not only a patriot, but a saint and a martyr, and Heaven bore witness to the justice of his pohcy by the miracles which took place at his tomb. So men felt and spoke through more than one generation. The fact is suggestive. It shows that the popular love of hberty was taking a more practical shape, as weU as a deeper root. The people were beginning to see where their weakness lay ; and the memory of Leicester was the more precious to them because one of his latest acts had been to point to the quarter to which they should look for strength. Edward i. It was not to be expected that Edward I. who had Ii^'inPreia- been in wms against Leicester, would be found eager iiamentpar-to act on a precedent which owed its origin to his authority. It is not until 1283, ten years after his accession, that the first move in this direction is made. In that year, to obtain the aid necessary to the prose cution of his war against the Welsh, the king con vened a sort of parhament, consisting of the clergy and the commons only, omitting the lords. The representatives of the commons in this instance con sisted of four knights for each county, and two repre sentatives from every city, borough, and market town. But travelling in those days being so slow and diffi cult, the kingdom was mapped out into three districts, POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 499 and the commons and clergy assembled according to book iv. the king's writ in three places. The first division Chap' 4" met in Northampton, the second in York, the third in Durham. The king was in Wales ; but his com missioners were present at the opening of each of these meetings. A certain grant of money being agreed upon, the business of these conventions was at an end, and clergy and commoners returned to their homes. The barons, we may presume, were mostly on military service with the king.* In a few months the war in Wales came to a close. Edward summoned a \parliament to meet at Shrews bury ; but not more than twenty cities or towns were required to send representatives on that occasion. The writs in this case were sent to the officers of the borough, not to the sheriff of the county. The lords sat in Shrewsbury ; the commons and the clergy in Acton Burnet. This sitting at Acton Burnet is memorable, inasmuch as there the Enghsh House of Commons began to concern itself with legislation. An act was there passed to give facUity to creditors in recovering their debts. f Eive parliaments, however, were subsequently con vened, without including any representation from the commons. It is not until 1295 that the commons are summoned in the form which served to fix the con stitutional usage in relation to them. On that occa sion, writs were sent to a hundred and twenty cities * Hody's Convocations, 372-382. Lingard, iii. 334. The writs issued in this instance were not to the cities and towns separately, but to the sheriffs, who were to send men with full power from ' every city, borough, and market town.' f Pari. Hist. i. The act was known as ' The Statute Merchant for the Recovery of Debts.' — Statutes at Large. Rymer, i. 247. The following are the twenty towns to which writs were sent: — Winchester, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Tork, Bristol, Exeter, Lincoln, Canterbury, Car lisle, Norwich, Northampton, Nottingham, Scarborough, Grimsby, Lynn, Colchester, Yarmouth, Hereford, Chester, Shrewsbury, and Worcester. — Anderson's Hist. Com. i. 131. Pari, and Councils of England, Edward I. K K 2 500 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. and boroughs. Most of these sent their representa- Chap' 4" tives, a few pleaded great poverty, and begged to be saved the expense. Twelve parliaments, including such representatives of town and county, were con vened during this reign. The aids granted by the commons were generaUy a third more than those granted by the lords — a fact which indicates both the kind and degree of social progress which was taking place at that time in England.* In these liberal ministrations to his wants, Edward found reason enough to reconcile him to this new policy. The commons, at the same time, were ahve to the advan tage of being able to confer together about their com mon grievances, and to combine in making redress more or less the condition of supplies. From the progress of this new — this money power, Edward was strongly inclined to overlook the peculiarities of feudal tenures, in favour of the money contributions which came from aU property alike. Edward's Had Edward I. been disposed towards a pacific and ^nt"and economical policy, his sagacity might have enabled arbitrary jjjm ^0 fafe over £he events of his reign without the measures. . . & aid of parliament in any other form than had been famUiar to his predecessors. But the passions of the king, and the necessities of his exchequer, were favour able to the liberties of the people. Edward I. was a prince of military tastes, resolved to subdue Wales and Scotland, and to make his power felt in connexion with his possessions on the Continent. But such a policy could not be sustained without a well-furnished ex chequer; and to secure that object, it became necessary that frequent appeals should be made to parliament, and, at length, that parliament should be allowed to represent the wealth of the commoner, no less than that of the noble. We must add, that the public acts of this king were too often unscrupulous and unjust ; * Pari. Hist. i. 38-^6. Bolls Pari. Ed. I. Pari, and Coun cils of England, jx— 6g. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 501 and it was one of the subtle elements of his rule to book iv. make his parliaments share, as far as possible, in the °HAP' 4l responsibUity of such deeds. It is not, however, until Edward has been king nearly a quarter of a century that he convenes the parhament of 1295, which may be said to present the first duly recognised action of our present constitution, as consisting of king, lords, and commons. The mea sures of the king during the years which preceded this event were often in a high degree arbitrary ; and in subsequent years his policy showed too great a readi-! ness to return to such expedients for obtaining money. But, happily, in these later years, the strong hand of the sovereign had to compete with the strong hand elsewhere. Great was the discontent, both in town and country. By his own authority the king raised the duties on exports, especiaUy on the two chief articles, wool and leather. In one instance, the ' Mer-* chants of the Staple' were required to lend the enthe value of the wools they were about to export ; in another, the whole stock was seized and converted into money for the king's use. In the same sphit, the English landholders were caUed upon to furnish large supphes of cattle and corn, to sustain an army in Guienne. It is true, this last demand was made with the promise of payment ; but the creditor in this case was not one to be easily sued, and the proceeding was felt to be vexatious and dangerous.* It was when such measures had put men upon those Resisted by private conferences about their common wrongs which Hereford" are the natural precursors to open resistance, that ^£ Nor- Edward meditated sailing with an army to Flanders, and sending another to Guienne — the latter under the command of Bohun, earl of Hereford, and Bigod, earl of Norfolk. But these noblemen were among the chief malcontents, though the first was constable of England, the second lord mareschal. Both declined * Heming. 110, 111. Knight. 2J0J, Walsing. 6g. Bunstap, v, 418, zens. 502 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the service assigned them, on the plea that they were HAP" 4" not bound to serve out of the kingdom, except with the king in person. Edward grew angry, and in the height of his passion said to Bigod, ' By the Eternal, ' sir earl, you shall go or hang ! ' The mareschal instantly replied, 'By the Eternal, sir king, I will ' neither go nor hang ! ' The two earls immediately withdrew, and are said to have left the court at the head of some fifteen hundred knights.* The king The aspect of affairs which now opened upon the thifciti-*0 king was serious. But Edward decided promptly on the course to be taken. That he might be in a con dition to humble the constable and the mareschal, great effort was made to concdiate parties to whom he had often given deep umbrage by his arbitrary appro priations of their substance. The clergy had suffered often and grievously at his hands ; but to clergy, to merchants, and to all parties aggrieved, his professions were now those of sorrow that his necessities should have been such as to have compeUed him to resort to measures which could hardly have been so painful to others as they were to himself. His faults in this respect, he acknowledged, had been manifold, but they might be sure there would be no return of them. It was to this effect that the king addressed a large assembly of citizens from a platform in the front of Westminster Hall. At his side stood the young prince, whom, as the heir apparent, he commended to their loyal protection, should it be the will of Pro vidence to number himself with the slain in the intended expedition. At this point the speaker burst into tears ; all were moved; and the faults of the king seemed for the moment to have been whoUy forgotten by his subjects in their sympathy with the father and the man. Edward accepted then loud acclamations as the pledge of reconciliation.! * Heming. 112. f Rymer, ii. 783. Matt. West, ad ann. 1297. The following are the king's words as given by Westminster : ' Behold ! I, who being about . POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 503 The king now ventured to set sail for Flanders, book iv. But he did so with some misgiving. Some of the Chap" 4' most powerful among his subjects addressed to him a formal remonstrance, and did not hesitate to describe the enterprise as unnecessary, improvident, and hazardous to the peace and safety of the realm. On the third day after Edward's departure the earls The ion- of Hereford and Norfolk presented themselves before wlthThe * the barons of the exchequer, to whom they stated in. earls- detail the grievances which the nation had suffered from the hands of the king, and forbade them, in the name of the barons of England, to attempt to collect the eighth granted in the last parliament, the said grant having been made without the knowledge of themselves and their friends, who should have been privy to it. From the Exchequer the earls rode to the GuUdhaU, where the citizens, notwithstanding the scene so recently witnessed in Westminster, gave the malcontent chiefs an enthusiastic reception. All were agreed in regarding the grievances of the nation as enormous, and in the necessity of imposing some powerful restraint on the despotic tendencies of the crown. The mUitary array of the earls in these proceed ings was great ; but the public peace was not broken. The men in mail, and the men of traffic and handicraft, feudality and citizenship, were at one on that day.* Edward was soon apprised of these proceedings. Parliament But his commands to his ministers not to heed the statute De prohibitions of the constable and mareschal were with- ^£?m>n out effect. The discontent expressed by those noble- dendo- men was the feeling common to all classes, from the highest to the lowest. The course of the war, more over, was not favourable. The king of France was at the head of a force which Edward dared not encounter ; to expose myself to danger for your sakes, do beg of you, if I return, to receive me as you now receive me, and I will restore to you all that I have taken from you. And if I do not return, then I beg of you to crown my son as your king.' * Wals. 72. Knighton, 2j 12. Heming. 117. Westmin. adann. 1297. 504 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. nor could he retreat with honour from the position he — L?" had taken. In this exigency, the councU, to whose care the kingdom had been committed, summoned the earls of Hereford and Norfolk, and a number of prelates and barons, to a conference ; this conference was pre liminary to a parliament ; and by this parliament the following important provisions, submitted by the con ference, were enthusiastically adopted, as additions to the Magna Charta, and the Charter of the Forests. ' No manner of tax or aid shaU either be imposed or gathered by us or our heirs, for the future, in our kingdom, without the common consent and free wiU of the archbishops, bishops, and other prelates, the earls, barons, knights, burgesses, and other freemen of this realm. We wiU not take to ourself any corn, wool, hides, or any other kind of goods whatsoever, without the consent of the person to whom such goods belong. We wUl not take for the future, in any name, or on any occasion whatsoever, evil toll* on any pack of wool. We wiU and grant, for us and our heirs, that all the clergy and laity of the kingdom shaU have all their laws, liberties, and customs as freely and fully as ever they enjoyed them at any time. And if anything be enacted or ordained against any article in this present writing by us or our ancestors, or by any new customs in troduced, we will and grant that such customs or statutes be for ever null and void. ' We do remit also to Humphry de Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex, constable of England ; Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk, mareschal of England, and others, the earls, barons, knights, esquires, and to John de Ferrars, and to all others his colleagues and confederates, and also to all those who hold 20^. lands, either of us , in chief or of others in our kingdom, who were summoned to go into Flanders and did not appear, all manner of rancour and ill-will which for * A tax of 40*. on every pack of wool exported. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 505 ' the aforesaid causes we might have taken against book iv. * them ; and also all kinds of transgressions which to CH£L\? ' us or ours may have been done, to the making of ' this present writing. ' And for the greater security of this matter, we ' wiU and grant, for us and our heirs, that all arch- [ bishops and bishops of England shall for ever in ' their cathedral churches have the present writing ' read, and shall publicly excommunicate there, as ' well as cause to be excommunicated in the several ' parish churches throughout their diocese, twice in a ' year, aU those who shall seek to weaken the force of ' these presents in any manner whatsoever. In testi- ' mony of which we have put our seal to this present ' writing, together with the seals of the archbishops, ' bishops, earls, barons, and others, who of their own ' accord swore to observe strictly the tenor of these ' presents, in aU and every article, to the best of then ' power. And for the due observance of which they ' promised aU then aid and advice for ever.'* Such is the memorable statute De Tallagio non Con-, cedendo. Its great aim, as wiU be seen, was to give a ftdler security to the property of the subject. It made the king dependent for every branch of revenue, apart from the rents of the royal demesne, on the suffrage of parhament — and of a parliament consisting of the baronage of England, and of representatives from the commons in county, city, and borough. Deep was the reluctance of the king to attach his signature to this instrument. But his embarrassments in the Netherlands were watched by the Scots, who seized the moment, after their manner, to make incur sions into the northern counties. The prince and his councU, moreover, had been parties to the framing of this instrument, and joined in urging the king to accept it. In that event, the clergy and laity were prepared to vote large supplies ; and the barons and * Pari. Hist. i. 4j, 46. 506 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. their foUowers were ready, either to join the king in fill?' Flanders, or to compel the Scots to find other employ ment. But an answer was required, in decisive terms, by a given day. By that day, after a costly struggle, Edward attached his name and seal to the docu ment.* Edward's The value of this statute must not be viewed as evade it. relating simply to the greater security of property. To restrict the power of the crown in that direction, was to restrict it in every other. Parliament, in be coming the guardian of the public purse, became the guardian of the public liberty. To control the ex chequer, was to have control over the sinews both of war and government. To the king this was suffi ciently clear ; and his majesty gave abundant evidence afterwards of an intention to undo if possible aU that had been done. First, it was rumoured that the king spoke of his oath as invalid, from its being exacted from him in a foreign land, where he had no autho rity, and was not in possession of his fuU liberty of action. Next, a succession of attempts was made to evade the confirmation of the statute after his return to this country. When all these expedients had failed, and the statute was at length confirmed as it stood, it was with the addition of a clause touching the sup posed rights of the crown, which virtually annuUed all that the document had been designed to secure as right to the subject. The earls of Hereford and Nor folk and then adherents, expressed their amazement and indignation, and withdrew from court and parliament. The Lon- Edward flattered himself that the citizens of Lon- sisthfs"* don would not be found so clear-sighted in these policy. matters as the barons. The sheriffs were instructed to convene the Londoners in the crypt of St. Paul's, and there to read the statute in their hearing. As passage after passage was read, the crypt resounded * Matt. West, ad ann. 1297. Heming. 138 et seq. Knight. 2522. Walsing. 73, 74. Pari. Hist. i. 46. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 507 with applause. But when the clause at the end book iv. came, the scene at once changed. The attempted I1AP" 4" fraud was seen at a glance, and the expressions of dis approbation were as loud, as the expressions of ap proval had been before. Edward's last move had thus faded. He immediately convened a new parliament, The statute in which his assent was given to the statute without iaw°me3 reservation.* But even yet, there was duplicity somewhere. The Further government officials knew the law, but, from some to secure it. cause, presumed to ignore it. They acted in many cases as in former times. Complaints on this ground in the next parliament were bitter. To sUence them, the king consented, not only to renew his pledge to abide by the provisions of the new statute, but, to ensure its better observance, agreed that it should be publicly read, together with Magna Charta and the Forest Charter, in the sheriff's court, four times in the year, and that three knights in each county, to be chosen by the freeholders, should be commissioned to punish all persons convicted of violating the said premises in any way.f For the present the king deemed it prudent to dis- J^jV, semble. But his purpose to make the parties who perfidy. had so far prevaded against him feel the effects of his displeasure was never relinquished. Three years later the Scots were subdued, his affairs generally became more prosperous, and the moment seemed to have come in which to put forth his hand as an avenger. The earl of Hereford was dead ; but his son was sum moned to resign his estates into the hands of the king ; and though they were restored, it was on such con ditions, that they soon afterwards fell to the crown. Bohun, the lord mareschal, was humbled and wronged in a similar manner, together with Winchelsey, arch bishop of Canterbury, and many more, who were * Heming. 159-168. Wals. j6. West., ad ann. 1298. t Stat. 28' Ed. I. 3. 508 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. *c££I7' cllpged wittl having been parties to the alleged con- — Ll" sphacy against the king while absent in Flanders.* All this was done in unblushing violation of an oath, solemnly taken, and often repeated.! Edward It is now known, that in 1304, Edward opened a froiTws correspondence with the pope to obtain a formal dis-, oathbythepensation from the pledges by which he had bound himself; and that the dispensation was granted, though, from causes which can now be only matter of conjecture, the instrument was never made public, f infraction Another measure, which dates from the king's sue* statute. cesses in Scotland in the same year, was his levying a tallage on aU his demesne lands and towns without consent of parliament, as though the De Tallagio non Concedendo were not in existence. His manner of silencing the complaints of the barons, in the next parliament, was by teUing them that they were free to levy a similar tax on the lands and towns subject to themselves. Of such a complexion was the pa* triotism of Edward I. — better his barons should be left to plunder at will, than that he should not himself be aUowed that liberty. Steta'En "^ Edward I» ^d, and the law which declared land under that the nation should be in no way taxed without its Edward i. consen-(;j a }aw given in a free parliament, remained on the statute book.§ On the death of this king, nearly a century had passed since the germ of this law found its place for the first time in our history, as one of the provisions of Magna Charta. But we may say that two great principles — taxation solely by authority of * Brady's Complete Hist. iii. 74-76, West, ad ann. 1305. t Westminster recounts these proceedings as bespeaking clemency, seeing nothing of the perfidy ! Archbishop Winchelsey appears to have given special umbrage to the king. ' I know the pride of thy heart,' said Edward, ' thy rebellion and cunning ; for thou hast always acted con? tentiously towards me.' But Dr. Lingard is right in saying, that English men owe hardly less to archbishop Winchelsey, and to the earls of Hereford and Norfolk, than to archbishop Langton and the barons at Runnymead. — Hist. iii. 353 et seq. X Rymer, ii. 972-978. § Stat. 34 Ed. I. j. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 509 parhament, and the representation of the commons as book iv. essential to the constitution of a parliament, were C.HAP.4' recognised for all time to come in the reign of the first Edward. English liberty, indeed, was nothing to that monarch. He ceded no vestige of it willingly. He would have crushed it in all its tendencies; had he been permitted. But the course of events in England had long been such as to train the people in political knowledge ; and the two principles above mentioned, which the pohcy of this king had tended to make so precious, may be said to have embodied two of the weighty lessons which the nation had now thoroughly learnt With these new ideas, property seems to acquire a new sacredness, and law a new authority. Neither the kings of England, nor the baronage of England, may henceforth touch the property or the person of the Englishman except according to law. The law takes precedence of both. Both owe to it obedience — all owe to it obedience. Knight and baron, burgess and freeholder, subject and sovereign, have their ground in this respect in common. According to maxims which have now become accredited and fami liar, will is nowhere law, but law is everywhere in the place of wiU. The English yeomen of those days, and many below them, thought, and spoke, and de bated concerning these maxims. So did the merchants in their guilds; and so did the men of handicraft when they gathered about their homely hearths, when they met in their local courts, or assembled as frater nities in the manner then common to men foUowing the same caUing or ' mystery.5 The educating power of such influences might be seen everywhere. To congregate was to learn, and there was scarcely any other way of learning. Even in the universities, more knowledge was obtained from the lips of living men than from books. And there could be no greater mistake than to suppose, that the people of England in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, 510 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. cared little about politics. Concerning politics as a theory or a science they thought little, but concern ing government as a matter immediately affecting their personal hberty and personal gams they were keen observers and keen disputants. The question of go vernment was with them, more sensibly than with us, a question of profit and loss, of life and death. It de termined what might or might not be accounted as their own ; and what they might or might not be made to do or to endure. The portly merchants, and the crowds of tradesmen and artisans, who made the old arches in the crypt of St. Paul's to ring with their acclamations, as clause after clause of the statute De. Tallagio was read, and who so quickly changed their note to that of indignation and disgust when the neu tralizing clause at the end came, were clearly men to whom discussion about such questions had long been famdiar. So, in part, did the political life of the English get nutriment, and develop itself in those days. Edward's Edward I. has been described as the English Justi- mf^ures.8 nian. It is a dishonour to the race of our Norman kings that the little done by this monarch as a law reformer should have sufficed to give him any such reputation. His statute of mortmain, and his endea vour to define the province of the ecclesiastical as dis tinguished from the civil courts — of which we shaU speak in another place — were wise measures.* The same may be said of the law which prohibited the increase of manors. f Much petty tyranny was thus checked. The manors of England are now as deter mined at that time. But this is nearly the extent of the praiseworthy accomplished by Edward I. as a legislator. His law concerning entails was of questionable utUity ; \ and the other salutary enact- * West, ad ann. 1280, 1285. Duns. 584. Wikes. 122. Stat. 18 Ed. I. 1. Pari. Hist. i. 3$, 36. t Stat. 18 Ed. I. 1. X Stat. 13 Ed. I. 2. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 511 ments of his reign were matters wrung from his re- book iv. luctant grasp by an indignant people. CnAP' 4' It should be added, however, that the attempts of Judicial re- this king to purify the administration of law, and to forms' uphold its authority in aU cases between man and man, were his own free action, and highly commend able. In the tenth year of his reign, all the judges, with two exceptions only, were found to be grossly corrupt, selling their influence to the man offering the heaviest bribe. The delinquents were deprived of then office, and subjected to heavy fines. From this time, the judges were sworn to abstain from accepting money, or presents of any kind, beyond a breakfast, from persons having suits before them.* With such dishonesties in high places, it is hardly improve- surprising that the country should have been much j^V1' infested with robbers. Bands of such men had then haunts in aU the forest districts. To check these disorders, aU boroughs were required to establish watch and ward from sunset to sunrise. It was requhed also, that the high roads should have a space of two hundred feet on either side cleared of trees, and of everything that might favour a sudden assault upon the traveUer. To ensure the observance of these regulations, local commissioners were appointed, who became the precursors to our modern justices of the peace, f The reign of Edward II. extends from 1307 to 1327. Edward 11. These twenty years give us the history of a king Weston. incapable of ruling, and of an alternating struggle between a sovereign content to be governed by favourites, and nobles who are not content that he should be in such hands. This is the political drama on which the eyes of the English people were fixed during those years. They saw the young king, on his * Chron. i. Wikes. 118, 119. Duns. 873 et seq. Pari. Hist. i. 37. 38. ' t Stat. 13 Ed. I. 2. 512 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. accession to the throne, devoted to the companionship Chap 4' of a favourite named Piers de Gaveston. They saw in the royal favourite a Grascon youth of handsome pre sence, skiUed in furnishing. the weak king with amuse ment, in casting ridicule on his presumed rivals, and in sowing distrust and disaffection between the sove reign and the most powerful of his subjects. They learn at length that even the young queen, Isabella of France, one of the most beautiful women in Europe, is powerless with her husband in comparison with this court minion. They note the utterances of discontent as they become daily more general and more loud. They listen to the latest rumours about certain meet ings of nobles and then foUowers at Ware and at Northampton, about the barons as having constrained the king to convene a parliament, in .which grave inquiry wiU be made into the late proceedings of the government. To that parliament they send then knights and burgesses ; and thence the report comes to them that divers articles of accusation are being urged against the favourite ; such as that he has abused the king's ear so as to obtain immoderate grants to himself ; that he has embezzled the treasures of the kingdom; that he has taken the best jewels of the crown to his own use ; that, raised as he now is above the most ancient nobility of. the land, his father had suffered as a traitor, his mother had been burnt as a witch, and he had himself been banished as imphcated in her machinations — machinations of the sort which could alone account for his present influence over the mind of the king. The expectation is, that the power of the favourite, under the weight of such charges, must soon come to an end. But the king struggles hard to save him. He would have the differences between himself and the barons settled by arbitration. But the fitting men shrink from the responsibUity. The barons insist that Graveston shall leave the king dom, and the report now is, that Edward has con sented to his banishment. The favourite embarks at POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 513 Bristol. But the king accompanies him to that place, book iv. The barons soon learn, to their no small mortification, CtlAP' 4' that Gaveston has only left England for Ireland, where Edward has made him his representative. Such are the political contentions which chafe men's spirits at the commencement of this reign.* The parliament which secured the banishment of Parliament Gaveston was convened in the spring of 1308 ; another of l3°9" was assembled in- the spring ofthe following year. In this interval, enough had happened to foreshadow the disorders which would prove inseparable from the rule of such a monarch. The commons were full of griev ances, the lords not less so ; and both were resolved on seeking the reformation of abuses, and on doing what might be done towards guarding the subject against the mischiefs to be apprehended from the sovereign power in hands so httle entitled to their confidence. The commons presented a remonstrance to the king, Kemon- in which they complain that clerks had not been thcfcom- appointed, as in the last reign, to receive their peti- : tions ; that new duties had been levied on cloth, wine, and other imports, raising the price one-third; that his majesty's purveyors seized on aU kinds of provi sions at their pleasure, without giving the required security for payment ; that the goods taken by the officers of the king's household for his use in fairs and markets were inordinate, and that the residue was sold by the said officers for their own advantage ; and that the coin of the realm had been debased so as to have raised the price of all commodities. The com mons go on to say, that in addition to these fiscal grievances, they have a right to complain of many things which interfered with the due administration of the law ; of the stewards and mareschals of the king's household, who entertained pleas that did not mons. * Rymer, iv. 63 et seq. Pari. Hist. i. 57, 58. Stowe, Hist. 213. Wals. 96. I L L 514 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. pertain to them, and exercised their authority in places HAP' 4' beyond the bounds of their jurisdiction ; of the king himself, who, by means of writs under the privy seal, often defrauded parties in civil suits of their rights, and afforded even to felons the means of escape from the punishment due to their crimes ; and of certain barons, who set up courts of judicature at their castle gates without authority, to the disparagement of the king's courts, and to the great harm of the king's subjects.* The topics of this remonstrance make us acquainted with the notions, and something more, which possessed the minds of the good knights and burgesses, who took to their saddles in the springtime of 1309, that they might duly make then appearance in parhament, as representatives of the counties and towns of England. On these matters we must suppose that they muse as they travel alone ; talk as they faU in with each other on the way ; and confer more formaUy when gathered in force at the place of meeting. Through the articles of this petition we see into some of the evUs then pre valent ; and in the tone of the document we may dis cern something concerning the stage of pohtical insight and feeling to which the English people generally had then attained. The king promised, after some hesita tion, that the prayer of the petition should be at tended to in all its particulars. The promise, how ever, concerning the new duty on imports, was soon forgotten, t Betumof Gaveston was banished in the summer of 1308. During the next twelve months the king endeavoured to add to the number of his friends, and at the close of that interval deemed himself strong enough to ven ture on a recaU of the favourite. The re-appearance of Gaveston brought with it new signs of disaffection. In two instances, the barons refused to obey the king's Gaveston. * Bot. Pari. i. 441. Prynne's Begister, 68. f Ibid. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 515 summons to attend him in parliament, on the plea book iv. that their persons would not be safe in so doing whUe Chap' 4' so much power was in the hands of Gaveston. When it was announced that the favourite had withdrawn to a distance, the barons assembled, but appeared, con trary to the command of the king, foUowed by their retainers. The first measure of this parliament was to appoint ™e Com- a committee which should be. empowered to adopt owners. such regulations for the better government, both of the king's household and of the nation, as should ap pear to them expedient. This committee has been described as the Committee of ' Ordainers,' from the ordinances issued by them for this purpose. It con sisted of eight prelates, the same number of earls, and thirteen barons. It was to cease at the end of twelve months, and was not to be drawn into a precedent that should be in any way injurious to the rights of the crown. This whole proceeding was described as an arrangement which had originated in the free choice of the sovereign — a statement, we must suppose, to which no one gave credence.* The king soon absented himself from London, ordinances where the Ordainers held then meetings. He collected damers. an army in the north, was there joined by Gaveston, and then marched into Scotland. In the meanwhile, the committee in London digested a series of articles, forty-one in number, designed to correct existing abuses, and to guard against their recurrence. These articles included many grievances which the king had already promised should cease. The novelties in this memorable schedule may be said to have been confined to the clauses which provided that such of the king's purveyors as should exceed their lawful com mission should be pursued by hue and cry, and dealt with as robbers; that the wardens of the Cinque Ports, and the governors of any foreign land subject * Bot: Pari. i. 445. Rymer, iii. 20.0 et seq. Pari. Hist. i. 58, 59. ll2 516 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. to the king, should be chosen by the king with the ad- HAP'4 vice of his barons in parliament ; that the sheriffs of counties should receive their commission under the great seal, but should be appointed by the principal officers of state, including the four justices of the King's Bench ; that the king should not leave the kingdom, nor declare war, without the consent of his barons in parliament ,- and that in such case the said barons should make provision for the safety of the kingdom. These are the provisions in this document which trench most on the power of the crown as hitherto exercised. The remaining articles of this tendency relate to the conduct of the king towards Gaveston and others, who were charged with exercising an un due influence over him. AU grants made to lord Beaumont, and his sister lady Vesey, were declared void, and it was required that those persons should no more be seen within the limits of the court. The same was determined concerning the succession of grants made to Gaveston ; and, inasmuch as the said Piers Gaveston had given evU counsel to the king, had sown seeds of distrust and alienation between him and his faithful subjects, had appropriated large sums of public money to his own use, had possessed him self of blank charters with the royal seal, to fill up and distribute at his pleasure, and had gone so far as to form an association of persons sworn to protect him against all men — it was required that the said Piers Gaveston should be banished, and that the day of his departure should not be postponed beyond the first day of November next. To aU these demands Edward found himself obhged to assent. But he did so under a protest in favour of the rights of the crown, which sufficed to. show that the oath so taken would be repudiated on the first convenient occasion.* On the first of November a sorrowful parting took * Rymer, iii. 337. Bot. Pari. 281. Pari. Hist. i. $g, 60. Wal- sing. 98, 99. Brady's Hist. Ap. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 517 place between Edward and Gaveston. Two months book iv. afterwards the favourite was recaUed, and the king Chap' 4' issued a proclamation declaring the innocence of the banished man, and his readiness to meet the charges preferred against him. This proceeding led to civil war. The king, how- civil war. ever, dared not face the barons, led as they were by his cousin, the powerful earl of Lancaster. Gaveston fled for refuge to the castle of Scarborough. The fortifications of the place were not such as to promise him security. On certain conditions he surrendered himself into the hands of his enemies. From Scar borough he was conducted to Warwick. In the castle of that place the barons conferred in regard to the fate of their victim. Gaveston was not only an accomplished man — he The fate of had given proofs of military skiU and courage. In the holiday passages at arms common in those days, he had triumphed over four nobles, one of whom was Lancaster himself. But the knight did not bear his faculties meekly. His imprudence kept pace with that of the king. The latter, it was clear, could never be separated from this man, nor be prevented heaping upon bim new wealth and honours ; the former ex asperated his opponents from day to day by his osten tations, and by the sarcasms and nicknames which he flung at them. To the earl of Pembroke he gave the name of ' Joseph the Jew ;' the earl of Gloucester was ' the cuckold's bird;' the earl of Warwick, was ' the black dog of the wood ;' and Lancaster was ' the old hog.' In the councU at Warwick Castle, one speaker urged that the life of the prisoner should be spared ; no unreasonable counsel, bearing in mind the promise made on his surrender. But the 'black dog' had vowed that the man who gave him that soubriquet should some day 'feel his teeth;' and a voice re sponded to the voice which counselled mercy, ' You ' have caught the fox ; to let him go will be to have to ' hunt him again.' The voice of the last speaker pre- again in arms. 518 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. vailed. It was decided, accordingly, that one of the HAP' ?' late ordinances, said to be applicable to his case, should be acted upon, and that Gaveston should die. The unhappy man cast himself at the feet of Lancaster, and implored earnestly for his life ; but it was in vain. His head was the price of his foUies. This happened in July. In the foUowing October a sort of reconcilia tion took place between the king and the barons.* - During the next nine years, the whole country was much harassed by wars with the Scots and the Irish, which at length brought in famine and pestilence. Law and order came almost to an end. The sPen- Some while after the death of Gaveston, his place barons in the affections of the king was gradually supplied by a youth named Hugh Spencer. The new favourite was of an ancient family, but shared in the jealousy and resentment incurred by his predecessor. In 1321, he attempted to take possession of an estate in one of the March districts, in a manner which seemed to menace the liberties claimed by those who dwelt on such lands. The lords of the Marches in the neigh bourhood, summoned their retainers, and entering the estates of Hugh Spencer, and of his father, plundered and destroyed wherever they came. Lancaster and his faction were induced to join the insurgents, and the two parties pledged themselves to remain together until the banishment of the Spencers, father and son, should be secured. In this object they were successful — successful by pure intimidation. The only offence of the elder Spencer appears to have been that he was the father of the younger. Both were absent from the country on the king's service when this movement against them took place, and both were condemned without a hearing, f * Rym. iii. 287 et seq. Wals. 98-101. Pari. Hist. i. 59, 60. Brady, Hist. iii. ubi supra. t Rot. Pari. iii. 361 et seq. Pari. Hist. i. 70, 71. Wals. 113, 114. A translation of the written impeachment preferred against them, from the old Erench, is given in the Pari. Hist. i. 67—70. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 519 It happened at this juncture, that the queen inti- book iv. mated her intention to pass a night at the castle of Chap' 4' Ledes, on her way from Canterbury to London. But the lady Bradlesmere, in possession of the castle, refused her admission ; which led to an encounter between her retainers and the garrison.* These deeds of turbulence and insult on the part of T1>e battle the barons' faction spread distrust and alarm. Re- bridg™ug ' actionary feeling became prevalent. The king soon found himself in a position to take the field against his enemies ; and the battle of Boroughbridge gave the most powerful of them into his hands. The great earl of Lancaster, the possessor of five earldoms, perished by decapitation. Fourteen bannerets were hanged, drawn, and quartered; fourteen knights suffered the same punishment. Many more were subjected to mitigated penalties. The licence and severity of the barons' party brought these calamities upon them. But the king, by these sanguinary proceedings, pre pared the way for that revulsion in the opposite direc tion which ended in his imprisonment, his deposition, and his death. f Immediately after the victory at Boroughbridge, Parliament Edward assembled a parliament, in which aU that had ^ncts «-" been done by the ' Ordainers' contrary to the aUeged 8Cinded' rights of the crown in past time, was rescinded. It was enacted, also, that such changes should not be attempted in future by means of any such delegation ; but tbat all laws affecting ' the estate of the crown or of the people' should be the act of the king, and of the prelates, earls, barons, and commonalty assembled in parliament. J The Spencers were recaUed ; but it was only that the younger, emulating the imprudence of Gaveston, should share in his fate, and contribute to the faU of his sovereign, and the ruin of his own famUy. * Pari. Hist. i. 1 14, 1 15. Rymer, 897, 898. + Knighton, 2540. Wals. 1 15, 116. Rym. 907-940. Leland, Coll. ii. 464 et seq. X Pari. Hist. i. 76. III. 520 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. Edward II. was neither a vicious man nor an arbi- — — ' trary sovereign. The, evds which came upon himself S°thekiiig. an<^ uPon his kingdom during his reign, were the result mainly of his narrow self-will — of the kind of obstinacy which is often aUied with weakness. His propensity to give his heart to some one person, to the neglect of his subjects generaUy, and even of his queen, exhibited a mixture of incapacity and perverse- ness which became at length unendurable. His barons were haughty and turbulent ; but his conduct was such as to offend the pride he should have soothed, to provoke the turbulence he should have allayed. It was manifest that his personal gratifications were the one object of his affections; and to this frivolous selfishness in the king, we have to trace the signal want of loyalty in his subjects, and of affection even in his own family. Edwara The parliament which deposed Edward II. reco gnised his son prince Edward as his successor. The prince was fourteen years of age on his accession. During the minority of the young king, IsabeUa, the queen-mother, and Roger, lord Mortimer, were in virtual possession of the sovereignty. It is not to be doubted that the conduct of the late king towards IsabeUa had been such as to wound her womanly pride, and could hardly have failed to ahenate her affections. Towards the close of the last reign the queen had taken her place openly on the side of the disaffected ; and her intimacy with Mortimer, the leader of the insurgents, though innocent for a whUe, became in the end a scandal to the court and the nation, At the expira tion of three years the young king began to feel his thraldom. The jealous nobles were quite ready to aid him in bringing it to a close. FaiiofMor- In the autumn of 1330, a parliament was convened in Nottingham. Measures were there taken to seize thfe person of Mortimer. The charges brought against him were, that he had assumed functions which the parliament had assigned to a committee ; that the timer, POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 521 late earl of Kent, uncle to the king, had been executed, book iv. through his influence, without just cause ; that he Chap'4- had subjected the king to the watchings of spies ; and above ah, that he had removed the late king from KenUworth, the residence selected for him by the estates of the realm, and had then caused him to be put to death. Mortimer suffered as a traitor ; and Isa beUa spent the remaining twenty-seven years of her hfe under a respectful oversight in the castle of Risings.* During a reign of fifty years Edward III. sum moned no less than seventy parliaments. His wars in Scotland and in France compeUed him, as we have elsewhere seen, to make frequent application for aid to his subjects ; and one effect of this course of events was, to give a more matured and settled form to the constitution and the usages of parhament. The time had now irrevocably passed in which a par- settled hament could be supposed to be constituted of less than ^^ the three estates — the clergy, the lords, and the com- meDt' mons. These estates assembled and deliberated apart. The clergy were chiefly occupied with questions relating to the church ; the commons with measures affecting industry and trade ; while the lords took a somewhat higher range, and were the great authority, next to the crown, in aU secular legislation. The clergy con vened with each parliament consisted of the prelates, and of others representing the chapters, the reli gious orders, and the inferior clergy, f The lords con- * Pari. Hist.i. 81-87. t ' It is now, perhaps, scarcely known by many persons not unversed in the constitution of their country, that, besides the bishops and baronial abbots, the inferior clergy were regularly summoned to every Parliament. In the writ of summons to a bishop, he is still directed to cause the dean of his cathedral church, the archdeacon of his diocese, and one proctor from the chapter of tbe former, and two from the body of his clergy, to attend with him at the place of meeting.'— Hallam, Middle Ages, iii. 194, 195. The summons to parliament is readily distinguishable from a summons to convocation, as the convocations were provincial. This representation of the commons among the clergy may be traced as far back as I255> and was one, probably, of the many causes which served to prepare the way for a house of. commons for the laity. 522 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. sisted of barons who sat by their own right as such ; — '— and of barons by writ, who were dependent for their right to be present on a special summons from the crown. It is probable that the latter class was re stricted to men holding lands by a baronial tenure. The barons by writ became few before the close of the reign of Edward III., and cease to exist soon after wards. Bannerets appear to have been occasionally summoned to the House of Lords until a somewhat later period.* The commons reckoned seventy-four knights as the representatives of counties, and a number of burgesses, which varied according to exi gencies, or the place of meeting. These two classes now formed one assembly, separate from the lords and from the clergy, f It is to this union between the representatives of landholders, or the gentry, in coun ties, and the representatives of trade in towns, and to the fact that these two classes of representatives formed one separate assembly, that we have in great part to attribute the permanence and the growing power which has characterized this branch of our legislature. The wealth represented by the burgesses gave them weight in that form ; and the higher rank and intel ligence of their coUeagues from the counties, gave to their joint action weight of another kind. By degrees, the middle element blended itself almost equaUy with the peerage above and with the commonalty below. We should add, that the expenses of both classes — of what * Hallam, Middle Ages, iii. 187, 188. f Bot. Pari. ii. 64, 66, 6g, 104. Lingard, Hist. iv. 164. The fact that every record of grants made in parliament, from the time it is made to consist of three estates, is the record of grants made by each estate separately, warrants the presumption that the commons were wont to assemble as a body distinct both from the lords and the clergy from the beginning. It is certain that this was the usage in the early part of the reign of Edward III. The prelates, however, sat as lords in parliament; but the estate of the clergy is said to have abstained from voting on secu lar questions. — Lingard, iv. 157, 158. In the last year of Edward III. the commons pray that no tax may be laid on certain commodities without 'assent of the prelates, dukes, earls, barons, and commons.' — Pari. Hist. i. 146. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 523 we should caU county members and borough members book iv. — were defrayed, according to law, by their constitu- Chap' 4' ents. The burgess received two shillings a day, the knight four — that is, at the rate of somewhat more than two and four pounds a day of our money.* The process of legislation was simple. Of the lords usage of and commons, either might propose a law, but the-groXg' assent of the other, and of the crown, was necessary J£7com- to its becoming law. It was not probable that the mons- lower house would attempt to legislate for the upper. But as little was it permitted to the upper house to legislate for the lower. In the nineteenth year of his reign, when in the zenith of his power, Edward called on every landholder to supply him with archers, horse men, or money, according to his means. The com mons petitioned the king to withdraw this demand, on the ground that it had not been made with their sanc tion. The king answered that it had been made with the sanction of the lords, and that his necessities had rendered such a supply indispensable. But such rea soning was not deemed satisfactory. The commons persisted in their protest against being bound by crown or peerage, or by both conjoined, without their own consent. Edward promised that the measure should not be construed as a precedent. But even that was insufficient, and, in the end, a statute was passed which declared, that in aU time to come, ordi nances so issued should be deemed contrary to the rea sonable liberty of the subject-! Too often the redress * Bot. Pari. ii. 258, 441, 444- The usual time for the meeting of parliaments in those days was eight in the morning. — Ibid. 316. t Bot. Pari. ii. 160 et seq. See also the petition of the commons in the parliament of 1348. — Pari. Hist. i. 116, 117. ' The course of proceedings in parliament, from the commencement at least of Edward III.'s reign, was, that the commons presented petitions, which the lords by themselves, or with the assistance of the council, having duly con sidered, the sanction of the king was given or withheld.' — Hallam, Middle Ages, iii. 161. The commons grew to be more and more solicitous to up hold this usage in regard -to money bills ; but in regard to other bills, it was not a uniform custom in succeeding times. — Bot. Pari. iii. 611. 524 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. promised was not rendered ; and the law issued dif- — 1" fered materially from that to which the king had given his assent. . But against these shameless frauds, a stringent provision was made by the commons in the twenty-seventh year of this reign.* We have seen the reluctance with which the first Edward passed the law which made all taxation to be absolutely dependent on the consent of parliament. The third Edward was not much more reconciled in heart to that statute than the first. But if Edward III. resorted at times to forced loans, and iUegal taxes, it was always under the plea of great necessity ; and the validity of the law was admitted, while reasons for some exceptional neglect of it were urged. More than once, the king was obliged to recede from attempts of this nature, and the discontent and. resistance caUed forth by such dangerous irregularities sufficed to render them of comparatively rare occurrence.! flfteenthsnd ^e tenths an& fifteenths, and other grants in par liament similarly designated, were a species of pro perty tax. They were money payments, which came into the place of personal or military service. In the first instance, they were determined by the value of every man's moveables, but extended subsequently to his entire property. In the course of this reign, the inquisitorial conduct of the government officers became * Bot. Pari. ii. 2^7. t The rolls of parliament, for the 21st and 22nd years of Edward IIL, teem with these pleas of necessity on the part of the crown ; and with protests against any form of taxation under such pretexts on the part of the commons. In these contests the scale turns more and more on the side of the commons. — Pari. Hist. i. ubi supra. Hallam, iii.62-69. The following is the . answer of Edward III. to the petition from his last parliament on this subject : ' As to the clause that no charge be laid upon the people without the commons' consent, the king is not at all willing to do it without great necessity, and for the defence of the realm, and where he .may do it with reason. And as to the clause that impositions be not laid upon their wools without consent of the prelates, dukes, earls, barons, and other people of the commons of the realm, there is a statute already made which the king wills should stand in force.' — Pari. Hist. L 145. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 525 so offensive to the people, that the custom obtained of book iv. allowing towns and counties to compound with the CHAP' 4' government for a fixed sum, and then to raise the amount among themselves.* From this reign, certain duties levied by the king Tonnage at the seaports, became known by the name of tonnage poundage. and poundage. By this custom, the crown obtained two shillings on every tun of wine imported, and six pence on every pound of commodities imported or exported. Tonnage and poundage, was at first a sort of voluntary grant, made by the principal seaports to aid the king in sustaining a navy for the protection of trade, or at least to enable him to pay for the use of such ships as might be pressed into his service. It soon came to be a grant made anew by every new parliament, and retained its ancient designation long after its proceeds had ceased to be applied exclusively to their ancient uses. These duties, were in addition to the heavy tax on wools, woolfells, and bides. Attempts were made by the crown to increase duties of the latter kind without consent of parliament ; and sometimes to impose duties on exports "without such consent, under the plea that the increase in price in such instances feU on the consumer in other countries— as though high prices could never be supposed to act as impediments upon sales. But the commons were vigdant, and insisted on their right to control taxa tion in such forms, as in others. f It has appeared, that to secure the passing of good Jjjjj^"- laws was only one step in the direction of good go- forms. vernment — to ensure the just administration of such laws was the next difficulty. The judges, and the officers in the different courts, were expected to make those courts serviceable to the exchequer— and we have seen that they were not less intent to derive from them supplies for their own coffers. In this * Bot. Pari. ii. 447, 448- t Bot. Pari. ii. 104, 160, 161, 166, 210, 273, 310, 317, 366. 526 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. reign, the salaries of the judges were raised, that they HAP"4' might be under less temptation to take bribes.* The sheriffs, and other responsible officers, were required to be men of property, and to be chosen annually, that so aggrieved persons might find it less difficult to obtain compensation from the authors of their grievances. The powers of the justices of the peace, moreover, were greatly enlarged; and private wars were more effectuaUy discountenanced. f These are among the good works of. the English House of Com^ ' mons under Edward III. The House of Lords was more occupied with judicial than with fiscal questions, and in settling disputes among their own order, than in exposing, and providing against, the grievances of the nation. They gave their ready assent, however, for the most part, to the liberal petitions of the com mons, and exercised great powers as the high judicial authority of the realm, determining the meaning of the law where the judges declined giving a decision, and correcting their decision when deemed erroneous. The law of There was one statute of this period in which the Reason ae- yoyc\s were especiaUy interested. This was the statute intended to determine more accurately the offences which should be adjudged as treason. The penalties of treason were the most terrible known to the law, while the law itself in this case was the most unsettled. Obnoxious persons were liable to be 'convicted of this heaviest of crimes, on the ground of acts which gave no warrant to such an accusation, except as construed in ways the most disingenuous and dangerous. But if this latitude in the law was deemed an evU by the * We have seen the check given to the corruption of the judges by Edward I. In the 20th year of Edward III. it was deemed necessary to issue an ordinance to the following effect : ' That all the king's justices throughout his dominions, should renounce and utterly forbear taking* any pensions, fees, or any sort of gratuities which before they used to receive, so well from lords temporal and spiritual as others, that, as their hands being free from corruption, justice might be more impartially and uprightly administered.' — Pari. Hist. i. 1 1 r. f Statutes, ist Ed. III. 14, 16; 2nd, 6, 7; 3rd, 4, 14; 14th, 7, 8; 20th, 4, j, 6; 28th, 7. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 527 subject, it was accounted an advantage by the crown. Not only was the fence about royalty supposed to be the greater, but the traitor forfeited his estates, and aU such estates went to the king. In the twenty- fourth year of Edward IIL, the commons, stimulated probably by the lords, took up this subject with great earnestness, and persisted in their suit untU a new statute was obtained. This law declared that treason should attach in future to seven offences only — espe ciaUy to such as should be convicted, by their peers, or by a competent jury, of compassing or imagining the death of the king, the queen, or their eldest son ; of levying war within the realm, or taking part with the king's enemies ; of uttering counterfeit coin ; of mur dering certain great officers of state, or a judge in the discharge of his duty.* Another significant change is due to the patriotism of the commons of England during this reign. It was provided that aU pleadings in courts of law should in future be in English. This had long been the usage in some measure, but chiefly in the lower courts. From this time, those most interested in knowing how a case was presented, whether in civil or criminal causes, became fuUy cognizant of all that was said in relation to it. This law belongs to the thirty-fifth year of Edward III. ; and when the next parhament assembled, the opening address was for the first time in English, f In this change we may see clearly, that we have reached the point of revolution in Enghsh history in which the Anglo-Saxon element becomes again de cidedly ascendant. This law, in fact, required that all schoolmasters should teach their scholars to construe in Enghsh, and not, as hitherto, in French. % The great landholders' are stdl of Norman descent, and re tain then famdiarity, for the most part, with the French language. But the bulk of the people are English. The gentry are receiving daily more and * Bot. Pari. ii. 239. t Pari. Hist. i. 127, 128. J Ibid. 528 ENGLISH AND NORMANS.. book iv. more of an infusion from the English ; and in be- HAP" 4' coming powerful enough to determine the language of the country, not only in common life, but in schools, and courts, and parliaments, the men of English blood have become powerful enough to give the impress of their character to almost everything beside. ^ai'n^d'dur -Frora this time to the accession of the house of ing this Tudor the constitutional history of England presents pmod' many new facts, but they are nearly aU the develop ment of old principles. The reign of Richard II., extending from 1377 to 1399, added considerably to the precedents ofthe past in favour of popular liberty. So, through aU the changes which followed, many of them apparently the most unfavourable, the liberties acquired under Edward III. are retained, made more clear and certain, and in some respects enlarged. One precedent follows another in favour of the right of the commons in making their grants of supplies de pendent on the redress of grievances ; in insisting that such redress when promised shall be faithfully ren dered ; in securing that laws passed shall be recorded without corruption or mutilation; in declaring that no law shaU be enacted, and no tax levied, without their consent ; in asserting that to them it pertains to inspect and control the pubhc expenditure, and to impeach the ministers of the crown for misconduct ; and in claiming on behalf of their members, full liberty of speech, and the right, moreover, to originate all money bills. Nor are there wanting instances in which large views are announced touching the autho rity of parliament in relation to the possessions of the clergy, and the law of succession.* In these facts we find nearly aU the popular principles since developed in our history ; and these may aU be traced, more or less clearly, to about the middle of the fourteenth cen- * Bot. Pari. ii. 64 et seq. Pari. Hist. i. 34—157. Reeves's History qf English Law, i. c. ix.— xiv. Hallam, Middle Ages, iii. 124 et seq. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 529 tury. Practice did much to give permanence and book iv. authority to these principles, but the constitution for CnAP' 4' the preservation of which so memorable a struggle was sustained, partly under the Tudors, but especially under the Stuarts, was the constitution realized by the English House of Commons in the days of Edward III. It is a great mistake to suppose that what was thus on the reia- done by our kings and nobles, and by our knights fweenuw and burgesses, sets forth the history merely of a legis- and people- lature, or of a government, teaching us little con cerning the political life of the people. These great facts do indeed lie on the surface of the past, but they tell us, with no little certainty and clearness, what was beneath. The debates and the law-makings of these parties may teach us little directly concerning the community at large, but they teach u^ much in directly. In the ordinances and laws of these ancient commoners, we may see the embodied thoughts and passions of those in whose behalf they took their long and weary journeys, and sacrificed much precious time. The grievances enumerated by them, were the facts and experiences to be found, more or less, in all the farms and markets, in aU the factories and seaports, and very largely at the firesides, of the then living people. Still, it is Well to look below this surface, and to descend closely to what is beneath, as far as we may. We have no reason to suppose that the Normans condition introduced any portion of the serf population found pie— lhee°" under their sway in England. The class in that condi- villein- tion after the Conquest, were such as had been in that condition before that event, or the descendants of such. Not a few of these were of British origin, and had clung to the soil under Saxon, Dane, and Norman. Under the early Norman kings the condition of this class was very low. According to GlanvU, even in the time of Henry II. the viUein of the lowest class, could call nothing his own, neither his tenement, his r .MM 530 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. land, nor his moveables. His lord's claim, both upon HAP" 4' him and his, was absolute ; and his chUdren were born into the same condition.* StiU, he was not really a slave. He might be punished or imprisoned by his lord ; but murder, mutilation, or rape, on the part of a superior towards his villein, exposed him to an indictment at the king's suit ; and in relation to aU other men the vUlein might claim the Common pro tection of the law.f vaieins by But while some were viUeins in the absolute sense tenure. above stated, others were described as villeins, because holding lands on condition of rendering certain per sonal services, in the manner of the villeins, in lieu of rent. The land was held in this case on what was accounted a vUlein tenure, but the man himself was not a villein J This soccage tenure, as before men tioned, was in reality the tenure of free men. Kiseofvii- How the serf, or the viUein proper, as he is some- leins into times caUed, should ever have become free mav seem a mystery, seeing that whatever he might present as the price of his freedom must have been already the property of his owner. But this has been in part explained. The lord, it appears, did not always need the entire labour of his servile dependentSj and often aUowed them to hire themselves for their surplus time to their own advantage. Haughty nobles valued the gratitude and affection of their labourers, as secured by such treatment, much more than the gains that might have been realized by a more rapacious pohcy. By degrees, the amount of service required became fixed, and in some , instances a copy of the agreement so entered into was furnished. In this manner the right of copyhold land, which answered very much to the ' bocland ' held under the Saxon kings, had its origin ; and in the time of Edward III. it had become law, that the lord could not seize the land of such * Glanvil, lib. v. c. 5. f Littleton, § 181, 189, 190, 194. X Ibid. 172. Bracton, lib. ii. c. 8; iv. c. 28. Hallam, iii. 257. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 531 tenants so long as the holder paid his rent in the book iv. shape of the stipulated amount of service. Many of Chap' 4' the lower grade of viUeins became freemen through favour of the clergy to whom they happened to be subject ; or through the influence of the clergy with their lords. But a greater number probably became independent, as before stated, by becoming fugitives, when to foUow them from one part of the country to another was difficult, and when the law was known to be upon the whole in their favour, by accounting them free after a certain interval of unmolested residence elsewhere. In the reign of Richard II. the parlia ment complained that vdleins fled from the country to the cities and boroughs, and that the citizens and burgesses gave them protection, in defiance of their lords when laying claim to them.* We have already seen, that twenty years after the Great accession of Edward III. the handicraft and the bus- fr"™iae.r ° bandry of the country had come to be carried on, for boureia- much the greater part, by free labourers. The dearth and pestilence of 1348 had so diminished the labouring population, that very stringent laws were then issued to compel the artisan and the peasant to work for a certain rate of wages — laws which clearly imply that the labouring classes were then to a great extent free to seU their labour to the highest bidder. Some traces of viUenage indeed continue in our history so late as the age of Ehzabeth ; but from the middle of the four teenth century, the indications of its existence are faint, and seem to become more and more faint with each generation. So, by degrees, a numerous free peasantry grew up, Effect of taking their place abreast with the freemen in towns, jj^kd la" From this condition many made their way into the bour- class next above them, consisting of substantia] yeo men and traders ; and from these classes taken toge- * Bot. Pari. iii. 294-296; Hallam, iii. 258-269. Eden, State qf the Poor. M M 2 532 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. b°ok iv. ther, came those men of the bow and the battle-axe, — _' who, under the guidance of our Norman chivalry, made the English name so world-famous in the days of our Edwards and Henrys. But the tide which shifted the strata beneath in this manner, did so under a pressure from beyond itself, and tended towards results only partially foreseen. These new condi tions of the more occupied classes came from new ideas, and could hardly fail to be fruitful of other ideas not less new. Men had claimed these new conditions, in the main, because they had come' to feel them to be in themselves fitting and .right, and they had been ceded, in the main, for the same reason. In these facts we have signs of the political life of the people as it then existed. It is growing, and it will grow. im? ari'sto- -^ was ^° ^e honour of the nobility and gentry of ciacynot England, that they could never claim any exemption cifs"" ege from the burdens of the state, or any real suspension of the law in their favour, by virtue of their rank. In this respect, the ground on which they stood was re'ally more noble than that occupied by the noblesse of France, and other Continental nations. To this honourable peculiarity we have in part to attribute the fact; that .we hear so little of feud between the aristocracy and the commonalty in those times.* It gave to both classes a common interest in the law to which they were in common subject, and contributed probably fuUy as much as the hmitations imposed on the power of the crown, to give permanence to our system of liberty. But if our nobles were less dis tinguished than the same order of men in most coun tries by political privUeges, they were men of large . * A remarkable instance of this good feeling between the .two houses we have in the parliament of the fifth year of Richard II. The com mons requested the advice of the lords on a matter before them ; but respect for tbe accustomed independence of the Lower House led their lordships to reply, that the ancient fprm of parliament had been for the commons to report their own opinion to the lords and the king, and not the contrary, and on this ground the request was not complied with. — Bot. Pari. iii. ioo. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 533 wealth, and shone in all the splendour naturally atten- book iv. dant on the man of large possessions. The contrast CtlAV' 4' between this baronial magnificence and the poverty and vUlenage elsewhere, might be harmless so long as political thought lay dormant. But it was otherwise when such thought became active. The night — a long night — had passed, the waking time had come ; and what the thoughts were which that awakening had brought with it, in the case of the industrious middle class, and of the labouring class below them, history has in part disclosed to us. It was no secret to this growing middle class, that ?^n. of from then head and their hand, for the most part, aence. came the wealth and splendour of the powerful class above them. They thus learnt to attemper the re spect due to that class with a becoming recollection of the respect due to themselves. They knew they had duties, but they knew also that they had rights. In the presence of the proudest they were not often abashed. The distance between the burgess and the knight, the yeoman and the baron, might be great ; but the ground which severed them from each other had long been greatly diminishing, and was felt to be by no means so considerable as that which they occupied in common. The popular poetry, and the private history, of the time, place these men of (dear head and strong hand before us, as men of free utterance and of erect bearing, yet as serious withal, whenever the matter in hand was of a nature to demand seriousness. Such were the yeomen and burghers who sent knights and burgesses to parliament, It was under sueh guidance, in great part, that these English com moners learnt to insist in that assembly, that the Englishman should not be taxed without his consent, and to insist on much beside of that nature, of which mention has been made. But it is observable, that much as the House of^JJ^ Commons was valued by this class, the question of the suffrage. suffrage did not hold the place with them that has been assigned to it in later times. County members 534 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. were deputed to their service by the loose suffrage of fUl!' the gathering in the county court. As we have seen, it is not until the reign of Henry VI. that the right of voting was limited by the forty-shUling freehold.* Borough members are said to be sent by the com munity ; but there is reason to believe that the- choice was often left to the borough corporation, f The cause of this course of affairs seems to have been, that there was very little difference of opinion among com moners in those days concerning what was needing to be done. Let the counties and the boroughs send their men, and, in general, the feeling would appear to have been, that there was no room to fear the compe tency of the house to the work expected from it. The first signs of jealousy in relation to the suffrage were called forth by the conduct of certain sheriffs, who learnt to make a bad use of the power entrusted to them. Defective and corrupt returns were frequently made by them, sometimes to gratify their own pre judice or caprice, and sometimes in obedience to an unconstitutional influence exerted by the crown. J The pur- The high comparative freedom of the commonalty grievance, in those times may be inferred from the fact, that next to their complaints against iUegal taxation, their great grievance related to the custom of purveyance, , When the king traveUed, his attendants often amounted to several hundreds, and his purveyors lodged the company, and seized on vehicles, horses, and provisions at pleasure. The law, indeed, required that for all this * Statutes, 8th Hen. VI. c. 7. t See pp. 495, 496, Some of the boroughs, as is well known, prayed to be exempt from the privilege of sending members on the score of expense. It is worthy of remark that during part of the reign of Edward III. and the next four reigns, the boroughs of Lancashire are uniformly returned by the sheriff as too poor to send members. — 4 Prynne, 317. X In the fifth year of Richard II. a law was passed intended to ensure a more regular and faithful discharge of the sheriff's duty in this respect. But there is reason to think that the poorer and more distant boroughs were never more than partially represented even when' they received the writ. POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 535 there should be reasonable compensation, but that bookiv. compensation was often difficult to obtain. The pay- ClIAP' 4" ment was rarely adequate, often long delayed, and sometimes never made at all. To protect themselves against the consequences of these occasional visits of royalty, the commons obtained a law in the reign of Edward III. which said, that the right of purveyance should not extend beyond the king, the queen, and the heir-apparent ; that even these should provide their own horses and vehicles ; that the local authori ties should see to the lodgment of the king's attend ants, and should decide on aU questions in regard to charge for accommodation and provision ; that smaU sums should be paid immediately ; that the credit in no case should extend beyond four months ; and that the servants of the king infringing this law, as the manner of some had been, should be accounted felons, and be dealt with as such. By this enactment the griev ance was greatly diminished, though it did not cease to be felt as such during many generations. The irrita tions produced by this custom were no doubt a greater mischief than the losses which it occasioned ; but the sufferings of a people which left this to be their great grievance could not have been very weighty.* It is probable that the suffering of the lowest class Growth of — the town artisan and the peasant labourer — was content. not greater in those days than will be found in the same classes in much later times. But the contrast in that day between the condition of the high and the low was much stronger, while the ignorance of the latter class often disqualified them for receiving with * See the references to a number of statutes on this subject in the time of Edward III.— Pari. Hist. i. 149-136. In the twentieth year of this reign, ' some. complaints having been made to the king and parliament against the purveyors for the king's household, who under colour of their commission had taken up all manner of provisions without ever paying for them, the king caused a. strict inquiry to be. made, and some ofthe most notorious offenders were hanged, and other's condemned to pay great fines.' — Ibid. iii. 536 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. sobriety the new ideas regarding the common origin of Chap" 4' the race, and the common relation of all men to right, and to the Alhighteous, which were then breaking upon them so forcibly from parliaments and pulpits. The maxims of equality announced by Magna Charta, and which had been iterated with so much constancy and emphasis in political and parliamentary struggles since; and the sacredness which had been imparted to those maxims by the sanction which religion itself had conferred on them, had evidently caused them to take strong possession of the mind of the class feeling itself to be the lowest, and accounting itself the most down-trodden. If it be well, said the Chartist of that day, that men should be equal in the sight of God and the law, why should their equality end there? Why should the labour of the poor be so cheap, seeing the rich can well afford to pay a better price, for it ? Why should there be a trace of vdlenage left among us, seeing the powerful have no need of vdlenage ? Yea, why should not the time come for a redistribution of wealth, seeing it has long since drifted away from the many, and become enormous in the hands of a few? Had not the old Hebrews their year of jubUee, when the slave ceased to be a slave, and the unequal were unequal no longer ? If we are all of one stock, why are we not one brotherhood ? If we are aU of the same family, why are we not in the same condi tion ? If equality was the rule in the first and the best times, why should it not be the rule now? Such are some of the questions which were seething in the rude mass- of mind iii this country in the middle of the fourteenth century, and which prompted the great outbreak associated in the history of that century with the name of Walter the Tyler. The well-known distich on the lips of the commonalty of that time gives us at once this phase of thinking : — When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman P All our histories relate, that soon after the accession POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 537 of Richard II. the embarrassments of the government book iv. led to the imposition of a poll-tax — consisting of a Chap 4" certain sum to be paid by every adult person, of either J.naurre°- i . . *¦ i . , . , i , . t . , . tl0n under sex, according to condition ; that this tax was in great Wat Tyier. part farmed by certain collectors ; that the discontent excited by this measure was great, especiaUy among the lower classes ; that the men of Essex, led by a baker of Fobbing, were the first to oppose the col lectors by force ; that the attempts made to suppress this disorder only multiplied insurgents, and caused the destruction of a grand jury who were finding in dictments against some of the leaders ; that the rude ness of a coUector towards the daughter of one Walter, a 'tyler' at Dartford, provoked the father to strike the ruffian a blow with his hammer, of which he instantly expired ; that Wat suddenly found himself at the head of a multitude of people possessed with the idea of compelling the government to abandon this obnoxious tax, and to rule the poor commons more justly and humanely ; that this multitude took possession of London, acquitted themselves for a while peaceably and orderly, but soon grew unmanageable, and committed great atrocities ; that Walworth the mayor, in a burst of passion, during a conference in Smithfield, gave Wat his death-blow ; and that after that, his foUowers were dispersed, and many of them hanged. That this outbreak seemed to be a failure — worse than a faUure — does not detract from its significance. It is a mistake to suppose that great effects ever come from smaU causes. Causes are always as great as their effects, and greater. The last apparent cause may seem to be trivial, but it has come in the train of predisposing causes which were adequate to the result. It is a spark only that seems to do the mis chief; but the spark would have been harmless if the combustible material had not been there. The explo sion in this case came, not from the baker at Fobbing, nor from the 'tyler' in' Dartford, but from the discon- 538 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. Bcuj^*J' *en*s whhd1 were everywhere ready to burst into a flame; .— — ¦ Such feeling was the feehng existing in nearly every cancfjf the s^ate of Europe. France and Flanders had been re- outbreak, cently exposed to excesses of the kind which now broke upon England. Governments had everywhere become more costly ; and, through corruption or inex perience, were apparently most improvident ; while the intelligence diffused among the people by a more prosperous industry, had disqualified them for a ready acquiescence in such a course of things. The result was a strong antagonism in many quarters between the governing and the governed. Let the last remains of vdlenage come to an end ; lef the rent for land in future be a fixed money' payment, not a personal ser vice ; and let trade in . markets and fairs be free from vexatious tolls and imposts— these were the first de mands of the insurgents under Wat Tyler. If we may credit their enemies, their subsequent projects were in many respects as foohsh as their deeds were reprehensible ; but the behef that public affairs were badly managed, and that they might and ought to be otherwise managed, was not the less strong because the power to articulate that conviction clearly and wisely was wanting. From that conviction came the insurrection; and to that conviction, more intelligently directed in other men, and in other circumstances, this land owes the changes which have made it the home of a free people for so many centuries. The grievances complained of by Wat Tyler and his fol lowers were real, the great misfortune of these people — a misfortune by no means uncommon — was, that they did not know how to seek the best ends by the right means.* * Sir Hugh Segrave, the lord treasurer, addressing parliament at its opening, on NTov. 3rd, 1381, said, ' among other things, that in the late rebellion the king had been forced to grant the insurgents- letters patent, under the great seal, enfranchising to a considerable extent those who were only bond tenants and villeins of the realm; for which the king, knowing them to be against law, desires them to seek a remedy, and to POLITICAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. 539 provide for the confirmation or the revocation thereof.' Richard professed BOOK IV. himself willing to do as he had promised, with the consent of parliament. Chap. 4. The lords and commons resolve unanimously : ' That all grants of liberties and manumission to the said villeins and bond-tenants, obtained by force, are in disinherison of them the lords and commons, and to the destruction of the realm, and therefore null and void." This House of Commons, how ever, complained of many abuses of the government as having led to the late commotions, ' and presented many petitions on grievances, and for a general grace and pardon, stating that, considering the rancour of the people, tbey neither dare nor will grant any tallage.' At length a sub sidy was obtained, but not without the • grace and pardon.' — Pari, and Councils of Eng. 144, 145. Some of my readers will be interested in knowing that Simon de Mont fort, who gave us our first House of Commons, was really a man of the sort that Laud and Strafford would have branded as a Puritan ; and that archbishop Langton, who did so much towards procuring the Great Charter for Englishmen, was the author of that fine church hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus. Both these facts have become known through publications which have only recently appeared. So religion and liberty have been helpers of each other from times long- past in our history. — See Monu menta Franciscana, Introd. xciv. ; and Spicilegium Solesmense, Domino J. B. Pitra. British Quarterly Beview, vol. xiv. j68. CHAPTER V. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND, FROM THE DEATH OF KING JOHN TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. 'chap/sT' T-^" general> ambition must be wise to secure its ob- — ; — J- jects — wiser still to perpetuate the acquisitions it ing point in has made. Where success has been great, it is easy to of the'papai helieve it may be greater. Hence the excess which power. brings reaction. Innocent III. was one of the most powerful and sagacious of the pontiffs. But his course towards England brought the papal authority to its culminating point in our history. The vassal age which he imposed on king John, and the manner in which he opposed himself to the feeling of the nation in condemning the Great Charter, and in excom municating its authors, suggested lessons which were not to be forgotten. In his person, the see of Rome had affected to be the arbiter of all rights, whether as set forth by sovereign or subject. Sovereign and subject came to feel that this monstrous priest-rule was an error and a mischief, and that as such it should be resisted. But resistance on this ground, which nearly aU men were ready to approve, prepared the way for resistance on other grounds, where the justice , of the proceeding was not so obvious. The idea of resistance, even in that quarter, became familiar to the mind of the highest and the lowest. It came to be a matter beyond doubt that the infallibUity of the pope must have its limits ; and so the question, the dan gerous question, came up — what are those limits ? In . the struggle of parties, those on whose side the thun ders of the Vatican were wielded, were disposed to assign to them a great . authority ; while those to whom they were opposed, were found to be capable of RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 541 treating them very lightly. By degrees, aU parties book iv. learn to regard these fulminations as instruments of Chap' 5' rule possessing little strength except as derived from the ignorance and superstition of the age. The successors of Innocent III. often appealed to The fove of his maxims, but the time to act upon them for pur- takes the poses of ambition had passed. Still, they had their J^T0ff the uses. They served to give an appearance of modera- Power- tion and plausibility to the interferences of the papacy in matters deemed properly ecclesiastical : — and it became a tacit maxim with the court of Rome, to be content with less power than formerly, if the power retained should only prove to be sufficient to ensure a satisfactory revenue. So a habit of low rapacity came into the place of the higher passion. The eccle siastical history of England from this time to the commencement ofthe Reformation, consists — in so far as the relation of this country to Rome is concerned — : in a constant struggle on the part of the popes to enrich themselves, as far as possible, from the revenues of the Enghsh church ; and on the part of the crown, of the lay patrons, and of the clergy generally, to pro tect themselves against this war of spoliation. The grounds on which these pretensions rested have ™e coase °f been stated, viz. — that the pope is the head of the wmu» the universal church; that as such the dignity of himself "hSL and of his court must be sustained ; that the means to this end must come from the revenues of the churches owning his authority; that it pertains to him to take cognisance of the revenue of the order of men speciaUy subject to him, and to judge as to the best method of applying it to its proper uses ; and that the contributions required to be paid into his treasury, were not greater than were necessary to make suitable provision for himself, and for the persons whose ser vices were indispensable to the administration of the affairs entrusted to him.* * See pp. 388-391. 542 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. The reply made was — that no one questioned the HAP 5" supreme authority vested in the pontiff in respect to matters ecclesiastical and spiritual; that -no good Christian could wish to see the spiritual head of Christendom deficient in regard to the means of uphold ing his proper dignity, and rewarding reasonably the persons' occupied in affairs fading properly beneath his oversight ; but, from some cause, it was only too mani fest, that the papal influence was always present where the question of money might be raised ; that, in fact, the popes were surrounded by men whose avarice was insatiable; and that to enrich these persons, and others depending on them, the pontiffs had shown them selves prepared to lay their hands on the revenues of the church upon a scale which threatened to transfer the greater part of the wealth of the country into the hands of foreigners — men who often failed to render the slightest service in return for the emoluments so bestowed upon them. Peter's The expedients by which the popes contrived to pence' acquhe the virtual command of so much wealth were various. The contribution which bore the name of ' Peter's pence' was the least considerable of their gains from this country. This payment was as old as the Anglo-Saxon times. It was designed at first, to constitute a fund for the relief of English pUgrims. It is said to have consisted at that time of a tax of one penny on every house of a certain value. But it soon came to be a payment in a fixed sum — and it remained the same sum for centuries, uninfluenced by the increase of houses or of wealth. The annual pay ment was about aoo/. The popes flattered themselves that it would be possible to return to the old custom of rating the householders, and to realize a much larger amount by that means. But the attempt was resisted, and the resistance prevailed. Kingjohn's One demand of the Roman see, particularly odious monfy to the people, was more honoured than it should have been for more than a century in our history. We RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 543 refer to the annual payment of a thousand marks, book iv. promised for himself and his successors by king John, °HAP' s" when that monarch consented to receive his kingdom as a fief from the hands of Innocent III. It is true, this payment was by no means regularly made. It was dispensed with when the favour of his holiness might be dispensed with, and it was observed when the observance was felt from special circumstances to be expedient. In 1366 Edward III. had been a de faulter in this respect for more than thirty years. In that year Urban V. demanded the payment of these arrears. The king laid the menacing letter of the pope before his parliament, and the lords, the com mons, and the clergy, were unanimous in repudiating the papal claim. From that time we hear no more of the ' census,' as it was caUed ; and with the census fell the more harmless payment of Peter's pence.* But the two great sources of wealth to the papal see stUl remained untouched — these consisted in the custom of ' provisors,' and in the claim on the ' first- fruits' of vacant benefices. The nominal appointment to a vacant bishopric The custom rested with the monks or chapters in each cathedral, "ors!™" But, for a whde, the approval of the archbishop was necessary to give vahdity to every election of a bishop. By degrees, both chapters and metropolitans were vir- tuaUy superseded, and the real choice in such cases came to be a sort of alternate compact between the crown and the papacy. The king was sometimes greatly annoyed on finding that the pope took excep tion to the man of his choice ; but in general our monarchs appear to have been less offended by this sort of interference than their subjects. It was felt, that any attempt to ignore the pretension of the Roman see in such cases, backed, as it would be sure to be, by the chapters, must lead to endless discussion ; and it came at length to be pretty weU understood, * Collier's Eccles. Hist. i. 560. 544 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. that concession on one side to-day, might be expected Chap' s' to ensure concession on the other side to-morrow. The pontiffs insisted that it pertained to them to make 'provision' — hence the technical term 'provisors' — for all vacant bishoprics. But the persons so provided, were in some cases commended by the king, and ap proved by the pope ; in others, they were chosen by the pope, and accepted by the king ; and in all cases the new bishop was required to confess that his temporalities were received from the crown, and not from the papacy. It will be seen, however, that the field of patronage thus open to the see of Rome was enormous. In the distribution of episcopal wealth and power, the authority of the pope was placed fully abreast with that of crowned heads, from one end of Christendom to the other. The division of the spoil was not the same in all places, or at all times ; but the partnership was a reality, though of a sort which left each partner to encroach on the profits of the other by almost any expedient that might be deemed favourable to that end. But if the pope might provide in this manner for the highest cures in the church — why not for the subordinate ? The question was natural ; it soon arose ; and, in fact, the popular complaint at this time had reference much less to what was done in relation to bishoprics, than to the manner in which even the lower offices and emoluments of the church were made to pass into the hands of foreigners. In this department the evil roused the jealousy and indigna tion of the entire class of lay patrons, and the people at large saw its effects brought home to their own doors. The crown was usually powerful enough to compete with the papacy in relation to bishoprics, but the antagonism between lay patrons and the pontiffs, was generaUy by no means an antagonism between equals. fruitf rst" "^°r was ^ enou^ that the custom of ' provisors' enabled these parties to reward their servants and de pendents, by raising them to places of authority and RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 545 opulence. By means of another custom, the first book iv, year's income from the larger benefices, in the case °HAP' 5- of persons so promoted, passed to the papal treasury. This is the branch of revenue which bore the name of ' first-fruits.' Gregory the Great had denounced all such payments as simony. But the voluntary offer ing made by an ecclesiastic entering upon a benefice in his time, had come to be a regular and definite tax in the thirteenth century ; and the payment in such cases, instead of being made to the bishop ofthe diocese, was often made to the pope. By degrees, the popes learnt to assert a claim on the first-fruits of all vacant livings. But this was a pretension which it was felt could not be prudently urged except/ under the plea of special need, and, even then, only within certain limits, in respect to time and territory. Clement V. made a demand of this kind on the English church for -two years; John XXII. for three years. Licence was also often granted to particular bishops to exact the first-fruits, for some special reasons, from aU livings that should become vacant in their province during certain years ensuing. But these were all crooked expedients. The go- usage ot vernment based upon them was not natural. Corrup- dam™— n' tion could not exist in such forms without diffusing *™£^ °01; itself further, and in fact it was found everywhere.* * Walter Reynolds, who was called to the see of Canterbury in the early part of the fourteenth century, returned from Rome empowered by the pope to exercise all the rights pertaining to the prelates within the province of Canterbury, in their stead, for three years, and to select one preferment for himself out of every cathedral church. He was also autho rized to remit all offences committed within the last hundred days, if duly confessed; to restore one hundred disorderly persons to communion; and to absolve two hundred men from the sin of having laid violent hands on the persons of the clergy. He was further declared competent, m the name of the pope, to qualify . hundred youths of uncanonical age for holding benefices with the cure of souls.— Wilkins, n. 483, 484. Walter is said to have been rich, and to bave paid a high price for the ecclesias tical wares with which he was thus laden, and which were of course sold to the highest bidder. What happened in his case, happened, we must suppose, not unfrequently. ! N N 546 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. Men were introduced to vacant livings by what' was called 'commendam' — that: is,: were commended as fit persons to hold the cure until the person designed to occupy if permanently should be. appointed, . But, under various pretences, these commendam appoint ments were often made to continue for years, some times for a whole lifetime.. The election of an abbot furnished the same occasion for papal interference. Appeals from authorities; in this country to the authority of Rome, arose from grounds innumerable, and in no quarter, if the opinion common to the age may be credited, was bribery so aU-pervading and dominant as in the papal court. In Rome, according to the current language of the time, everything .might be obtained by money, nothing without it.* How eccie- On occasions, the popes proceeded so far as to de- dMomac man<^ a rated contribution from the. entire moveables was ma- of the kingdom. On the goods of the clergy such a nase ' claim was often made. An. incident from the time of Henry III. wiU serve to illustrate this point, and some others, comprehended in the politico-ecclesiastical machinery of this period. In 1238, Stephen, arch bishop of Canterbury, died. The monks of Canter bury obtained permission from the king to choose a successor. Their choice feU on one of their own order, named Walter de Hemisham. But the king took ex ception to this decision. The bishops, suffragans to Canterbury, also demurred, on the ground that their opinion had not been taken. Walter appealed from the king, and from the bishops, to the pontiff. The king sent his envoys to sustain his suit in the papal court. The pope had his reasons for affecting at first to favour the suit of Walter. The English ambas sadors felt the alarm it was intended they should feel. They assured the pope and his ministers, that they were not insensible to the financial difficulties which the war in Germany had entailed on his holiness ; but * Wendover, a.d. 1226. M. Paris, a,d. 1236, 1247, 1253. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 547 that, were this suit only terminated to the satisfaction book iv. of their royal master, they could venture to promise Chap' 5" that the contribution of a tenth should be made to the papal exchequer from aU the moveables of Eng land and Ireland. The pontiff now declared the elec tion of Walter void. But he at the same time pro fessed himself greatly displeased with the monks at Canterbury for the course they had taken, so much so,- that it was imperative upon him to punish them, and this he stated he should do by superseding their function, and appointing the next archbishop himself. This filled the English ambassadors with new alarm. The promotion of some tool of the papacy to the see of Canterbury, might lead to grave mis chiefs. It Was now urged that the pontiff should pause in these proceedings untU further instructions should be obtained from England. In these instruc tions, the king urged that Richard, chancellor of the diocese of Lincoln, might be raised to the primacy — adding, that, should the pope approve this choice, the promised tenth should be paid. The pope did approve; the papal legate came to England for the tenth; the case was laid before the English parliament; the laity refused to be bound by the king's promise ; the clergy, after some days' hesitation, submitted to the impost ; and the rigour with which it was exacted caUed forth loud expressions of indignation. Ralph, earl of Chester, warned the coUectors not to appear on his domain, and in such terms as made his warning effectual.* This narrative- may be taken as a fan sample of the Protest of network of rival pretension and intrigue which consti- of LincoiS. tuted the history of the English church in its relation to the papacy during the three centuries which pre ceded the Reformation. Innocent IV. wrote to Robert Grostete, the celebrated bishop of Lincoln, requiring him to induct a child, nephew to the pontiff, into a * Wendover, a.d. 1228, 1229. M. Paris, 348-362. Wykes, 41. N N 2 548 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. vacant living. In his reply, the bishop was so bold as ^1!_' to denounce the mandate as more fit to have come from Antichrist, or from Lucifer himself, than from the successor of the apostles. The bishop knew, how ever, while he condemned this proceeding in such terms, that such things were common; and in his latest recorded words — words uttered in the near pro spect of death — he described the court of Rome as sunk in avarice, as capable of all sorts of simony and rapine, as the slave of luxury and libertinism, and as employed in corrupting the sovereigns of Europe down to its own level, in place of raising them to the purity of the Gospel.* collectors The papal officers engaged in conducting the financial revenue— al affairs of the court of Rome in England ih the thirteenth hated by century are said to have been more numerous, and better organized, than the agents of the king's govern ment ; and the amount annually transmitted to Rome from aU sources, is said to have been greater than that raised for the crown. So odious, accordingly, were these officers in the eyes of the people generally, as to be hable to every sort of insult, to open assault, and, in some cases, to the loss of life. Complaints were made again and again to the court in whose cause these penalties were incurred, and in the remonstrances which foUowed, the English were described as showing themselves, by such conduct, to be more impious than the heathen persecutors of the faithful in the early ages of the church, f Measures of But these officers, and their proceedings, were scarcely reTau^To' more obnoxious to the people than to the parliament. them. jn ^g \ajgi parhament of Edward I. severe measures were taken to check aU encroachment of this descrip tion. An Italian priest named Testa, who was at the head of the pope's revenue department in this country, was made to appear before the two houses of parliament; was pubhcly censured; was forbidden * Matthew Paris, a.d. 1253. t Ibid. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 549 to proceed further with his exactions ; and was even book iv. commanded to return moneys in his possession, for the Chap' 5' king's use. An act was at the same time passed, which became known as the first act against ' provi sors.' It forbad, under severe penalties, the bring ing of any papal ' provision,' or any document what ever, from the papal court, into this kingdom, the pubhcation of which might be in any way inconsistent with the rights of the English crown, or of those subject to it.* Under Edward II. this law was not a dead letter. The pope deputed two prelates to at tempt a reconcihation between tbat prince and his queen IsabeUa. The two bishops had sent dispatches before them, stating that they should come without letters or instruments of any kind that could be used to the prejudice ofthe king or of his people. But the constable of Dover was instructed to meet the bishops on then landing, and to remind them in the most distinct and formal manner, of the penalties they would incur should they prove to be the bearers, or should they hereafter attempt to execute, any order, to the injury ofthe king, his land, or his subjects. f In the thirtv-fifth year of Edward III. complaint Resistance . / j J to papal en- on this subject was renewed, and new measures were croachment taken. In the parliament of 1343, ' the commons of ™£gut ' England made great complaint of the provisions ' and reservations coming from the court of Rome ; ' whereby the pope took up beforehand the future ' vacancies of ecclesiastical dignities for aliens, and ' such as had nothing to do within this realm. They ' demonstrated to the king the manifold inconve- ' niences ensuing thereby — as the decay of hospitality, ' the transporting of the treasure of the realm to the ( king's mortal enemies, the discovering of the secrets ' of the kingdom, and the utter discouraging, dis- ' abling, and impoverishing of scholars, natives of the ' land. Among other instances they showed how the * Bot. Pari. 2ig et seq. t Eymer, iv. 206. 550 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. ' pope had secretly granted to two new cardinals HAP' 5" 'sundry livings within the realm of England, and ' particularly to the cardinal of Perigort above 10,000 ' marks in yearly coUections.' The commoners pray that a remedy may be found for mischiefs to which they could not, and would not, any longer submit ; and if it should be said that the abuse did not admit Of correction, they pray the king's help ' to expel the ' papal power out of the realm.' The king commended the consideration of the grievance to the two houses. By the parliament, the provisions of the statute of Edward L were reiterated, and made more stringent, the substance of the decla ration of the lords and commons being, that no re script from the court of Rome should be in itself of the shghtest legal value in the realm of England ; and that aU persons convicted of introducing, receiving, or attempting to act on such instruments, should be sub ject to the penalty of forfeiture, and be otherwise dealt with according to the king's pleasure. On this occasion, the lords and the commons wrote a joint letter to his holiness, stating their case, and indicating, in very decisive terms, their expectations at his hands. ' Forasmuch,' say they, * most holy father, as you ' cannot well attain to, the knowledge of divers errors ' and abuses which have crept in among us, and may ' not be able to understand the customs and circum- ' stances of countries remote from you, except as you ' may be informed by others, we, who have a fuU ' inteUigence of all errors and abuses within this ' realm, have thought fit to make known the same to ' your hohness — and especially of the divers reserva- ' tions, provisions, and collations which by your apos- 1 tohc predecessors of the church of Rome, and by you ' also in your time,, most holy father, have been ' granted, and now more illegally than heretofore, to ' divers persons, men of other nations,, some of them ' our professed enemies, having little or no knowledge ' of our language, or of the customs of those whom RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 551 ' they should teach and govern, to the peril of many book iv. ' souls, the great neglect of the service of God, the CnAP' 5' ' decay of alms, hospitality, and devotion, and the ' ruin of churches, causing charity to wax cold, the * good and honest natives of the country to faU of ' promotion, the cure of souls to be disregarded, the ' pious zeal of the people to be depressed, the poor ' scholars of the land to be unrewarded, and the trea- ' sure of this realm to be exported in a manner con- ' trary to the intention of those from whose pious ' beneficence that treasure is obtained. All which ' errors, abuses, and scandals, most holy father, we ' neither can nor ought any longer to suffer or endure. ' Wherefore we do most humbly require that the said c scandals, abuses, and errors, may of your great pru- ' dence be thoroughly considered, and that such reser- * vations, provisions, and collations may be utterly ' repealed ; that such practices be henceforth unknown ' among us ; that so the said benefices, edifices, offices, ' and rights, may in future be supplied; occupied, and ' governed by our countrymen. May it further please 1 your holiness to signify to us by your letters, without ' delay, what your pleasure is touching this lawful ' request and demand ; that we may diligently do ' our part towards the correction of the enormities ' above specified.'* The effect of this plain-spoken and significant epistle does not appear to have been aU that its authors thought they had a right to expect. The parliament of the next year, taking the matter more thoroughly into its own hands, made the penalty of violating then late statute to be abjuration of the realm, out lawry, or perpetual imprisonment. Seven years later, the two house's pushed their legislation on this subject stiU further; and in 1353, declared the man liable to the forfeiture of aU his lands and goods, and to impri sonment at the king's wiU, who should presume to * Bot. Pari. ii. 144, 1 SS- Barnes's Edward III. 552 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. carry any cause to a foreign court which pertained of — _' right to the king's court — the foreign court specially intended in this case being the court of Rome. This vexed affair continued to occupy the attention of par hament at intervals to the close of the reign of Ed ward III. The issue towards the close of that period was a sort of compromise between the king and Gre gory IX., which was far from being satisfactory to either lords or commons.* Effect of Many causes contributed to this perpetual embroil- denceoftheDient, and to the bitterness by which it was charac- AvteLon— terized on the part of our forefathers. Among the most conspicuous of these causes was the forced resi dence of the popes in France, followed, as it was, by the papal schism. In the early part of the fourteenth century, Philip the Fair, of France, as the result of some passionate disagreements with the see of Rome, removed the papal court to Avignon. By this policy, Philip succeeded in assigning the office itself to Frenchmen. This exile of the popes from Rome lasted seventy years, and, in the language of the Italians, was the Babylonish captivity of the papacy. Clement V. ; John XXII. ; Benedict XII. ; Clement VI. ; Inno cent VII. ; Urban V. ; and Gregory IX. — all suc ceeded each other at Avignon, and all were French men. The cardinals, moreover, as might be expected, were also mostly of that nation. Thus the papacy was virtually in the hands of France, while France had come to be regarded as the great enemy of England. In the eyes of Englishmen at that time, the court at Avignon and the court at Paris were * one ; while the creatures and adherents of the papacy in this country, from their being to a large extent Frenchmen, or Italians who had become resident in France, were naturally regarded as doing the work of spies, and as enriching the chief enemy of the king * Rymer, vii. 83 et seq. Bot. Pari. ii. 337 et seq. Statutes ofthe Realm. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 553 and kingdom by all their acts of spoliation. The book iv. Avignon popes, moreover, were not men to abate these Chap'5' natural causes of disaffection by their personal influ ence. Mosheim speaks of them as men who ' having • ' no other end in view than the mere acquisition of riches, excited a general hatred against the Roman see, and thereby greatly weakened the papal empire, which had been visibly on the decline since the time of Boniface.' When the captivity ended, the schism began. In And of 1378, on the death of Gregory XI. the cardinals as- -nafpa™ sembled to choose a successor. But the populace of pacy- Rome, aware that three-fourths of the cardinals were stUl Frenchmen, and indignant that the tiara had been so long awarded to ecclesiastics of that nation, assem bled in great numbers about the place of meeting, and by threats induced the cardinals to choose an Itahan. The object of then choice was Bartholomew de Pregnane, bishop of Bari, who assumed the title of "Urban VI. But some of the leading cardinals retired from Rome soon afterwards, and at Fondi, a city in the Neapolitan territory, they elected the car dinal of Geneva in the place of the archbishop of Bari, and this rival pope assumed the name of Cle ment VII. The plea urged in support of this pro ceeding was, that the former election had been the result of intimidation. France, and her aUies — in cluding Spain, Sicily, and Cyprus — gave their adhesion to Clement ; England and the rest of Europe, pro- 1 aimed themselves Urbanists. As Europe was then divided in its judgment concerning these rival pontiffs, so the question between them has remained an unde cided question to this day. During the next half century the church had two, sometimes three, heads at the same time, each busy in his plottings, and in thundering all sorts of anathemas against the other. The history of the Avignon popes showed that the supposed representative of Deity on earth might be come a prisoner in the hands of one ofthe crowned heads 554 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. of Christendom, in place of ruling as a sovereign inde- I^LZ.' pendently of aU such rulers, and above them aU. The schism was a still deeper shock to the Opinion and feel ing of the age. With men of sense, it might weU seem easier to account priestly infallibility a dream, than to regard it as a quality that might be competed for by" two or three claimants at a time. The presence of the' papal court in the Once quiet city of Avignon, con verted it into the haunt and home of every "abomina-' tion ; and the more northern nations could judge of the virtues which foUowed in the track of the chief pastor of the church, without crossing the Alps to ac quire that kind of knowledge. Furthermore, as this change of home brought with it both weakness and poverty, it furnished new pleas on the side of greater artifice with a view to greater exactions. The thun ders which the rival popes hurled at each other, were the natural emblems of the wars and the rumours of wars with which their contentions had filled aU Europe. So both parties became known by their fruits, fruits which bespoke the presence of • the wolf, it was said, rather than of the shepherd. Retrospect Such was the political machinery of the eCclesias-' revolutions, tical system of Europe in :the thirteenth and four teenth centuries, and such are some of the more potent influences then in action upon it — to what issue did it tend ? In attempting to answer this question it behoves us to bear in mind that depraved men rarely cease to be depraved men. Such instances occur, but they are exceptional. But if a self-reformed man is a phenomenon rarely seen, still less may we hope, to see a community or a corporation become self-purified. In the fourteenth century all things seem to point to reform or ruin. But there was room to fear that reform ' would be long resisted, even at the hazard of the ruin. When do the crafty learn to be in genuous ? When do the avaricious learn to eschew the lust of gain? What will not an individual do,' still more what wiU not corporate bodies do, rather than submit to such self- crucifixion ? It is no RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 555 marvel that Wycliffe, and Huss, and Jerome should book iv. give signs of the coming change. But as little mar- Chap" 5- veUous is it, to those who look beneath the surface, that the course of this change should have been so unequal and so slow, and that to the last it should have been so limited. It is a law of Providence, that change in bodies should be slow when the body is great. Nor is it less a law that what the great heart of humanity has been long in constructing, it must be long in taking to pieces, and' in casting utterly away. Revolutions, hke creation, have their laws — laws which determine then time, and speed, and mode, and result. Good men would fain be fast workers, but Providence is ever schooling them into two great lessons — to work and to wait. It is not always remembered, that were the . quicker pro duction of good possible, the quicker production Of evU would be possible; that to extrude from humanity the tendencies which give permanence to the bad, would be to leave little ground for permanence to the contrary of the bad. Mind has its laws of opposite forces, in common with matter ; and the power of habit, so far as our experience extends, cannot exist for good, without existing also for the not-good. Did men change then rehgion easdy, we might expect them to change it often — much too often. In this chapter, we have seen, so far, something ofthe {^^J, rehgious complexion of the times as presented in the hierarchy upper stratum of society, where the chief actors are people! popes and princes, ambitious churchmen and the more wealthy among the laity. Of course, in connexion with this strife about the distribution of church offices and church revenues, something much more religious existed even in that level of society. But the laymen and churchmen, the women and the men, in such con nexions, who possessed a truly rehgious spirit, come but rarely in sight, and are but little knOwn to history. Beneath this upper stratum, however, there was a middle, and a lower, and what is to be foiifid there ? To find the lowest grade in the population of the 556 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. Bc°h°a* 7' thirteenth century we must look to quarters in the _ _L* largest towns and cities. In the country, the baron of0tenin" knew his tenants and viUeins, and could not dispense tioierin ^h ^e"" services. The relations between these par- the counties ties were comparatively understood and settled. Each teenthMn- needed service from the other, and the service needed tury. was no-t to be expected from any other quarter. While the ties which linked the feudal lord to his dependents were of this nature, those which linked the religious houses to their numerous tenantry and labourers were stiU more intimate. ServUe," accordingly, in many re spects, as the condition of the cultivators of the soil may have been, their position was such on the whole as to secure them an oversight from then superiors, which was favourable, in many ways, to their com fort, intelhgence, and independence. In this manner, in agricultural districts, the stability of things with the upper classes extended itself to the lower. Times might be better or worse, but the lord and his servant shared them together. citypopu- It was otherwise, however, in towns. In such thettir™ places, the crowd was the greatest, and the isolation jeenth cen- was ^e greatest. Every man there was expected to be more self-rehant than in the country, and he became so, but not always to his advantage. Men who knew how to use this hberty, becoming industrious, self- governed, virtuous, rose above the operative class else where in intelligence, and in familiarity with home enjoyments. Men who abused this liberty, becoming idle and vicious, suffered the penalty of their ways, with none to pity or reclaim them. It thus came to pass, that the town populations of those times con sisted of two classes, the weU-conducted and weU-to,- do. ; and the id- conducted, who were huddled together in filth, disease, and misery. In regard to religion, •the first class was much more sceptical on such matters than is now generally supposed; whUe the second soon sank down very far in ignorance, superstition, and heathenism. The Crusades had done much to RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 557 enlarge and liberalize the ideas of men. The effect of bookiv. those enterprises had not been so much to settle as to 0hap' 5' disturb the faith of Christendom. It was seen that infidels could be virtuous and brave, no less than Christians. Everywhere a tendency toward discussion had grown up. New demands were thus made on the clergy. If the sceptical were to be satisfied, that would requhe strong practical intelligence ; and if the degraded and miserable were to be reclaimed and elevated, that would require a large measure of bene volence and self-denial. It is evident that the clergy of the age were not equal to the work which had thus grown upon their hands They were found wanting, both in the kind of knowledge, and in the spirit of self-sacrifice, demanded by the times. This was no where more felt than by some of the best men of then own order, such as Grostete, the pious and able bishop of Lincoln. But in the history of. religion, there is a law of action and reaction which becomes visible in its sea son. When the Christian priesthood became rich and worldly, monachism arose as it's fitting rebuke ; and now that monachism, in its turn, has become corrupt, the mendicant orders make their appearance, as a great practical protest against the inaptitude and selfishness of both monk and priest. This event dates from the first half of the thirteenth century.* St. Francis, in founding the order which has since ™s£°f_ borne his name, hoped to retain what was good in the ciscans. existing ministries of the church, and discarded many things which in his eyes were only so much hindrance and evil. He saw not a little to censure in the exist ing ecclesiastical system. But his object was not so much to reform the church, as. to supplement its * Butler's Lives; 'St. Francis of Assisium.' Essays in Ecclesi astical Biography, by Sir James Stephen; 'St. Francis/ Monumenta Franciscana, edited by G. S. Brewer, M.A. The admirable Introduction to the last-mentioned publication deserves the attention of the student. I 558 ENGLISH AND NORMANS; book rv. agencies, and indirectly to purify and elevate them. if' Popes and cardinals, priests and monks, were aU left to then respective vocations ; but there was a work that should be done which none of them were doing, and which St. Francis commissioned his disciples to do. There was a great want of city missionaries in those days, and the early Franciscans were men separated f o that service. -In common with the priests and monks - of then time, they were not to be married men. In common with the monks ihey were to hve together in fraternity. But, unlike the monks, they were not to limit their .religious duty to praying for souls in the chapel ol a monastery, but were to go in- search of them by preaching, and by all humane offices, in the lowest parts of the city, or amidst the wretched hovels which housed them outside the city gates, or beneath the citr walls. In common with the parochial elergy, they were preachers, having the cure of souls ; but, in distinction from the clergy, they made preaching to be their great work, found then parish everywhere, and especially where ignorance and vice, filth and suffering, were known to be most accumulated and least dis turbed. The wealth of the church had been her -great snare, had rendered her inefficient — helpless, in regard to ihe great wants of the age, and the Fran- ciscan, in consequence, was to know nothing of reli gions endowments, nothing of a settled revenue for the support of his ministry. His dress, his diet, his home, aU were to be such as to bespeak him a poor man. and to proclaim him as the poor man's minister. He was to be the willing servant of the community, especiaUy of the most needy and forgotten portions of it, and he was to depend on the free offerings of the community from day to day for his maintenance. To the honour of Romanism, within its pale, poverty in the minister of rehgion has never been a bar to the reverence due to his office. Hence, in originating even such an institute, brother Francis could exact, that RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 559 men, to become his disciples, should not only be men book iv. of fervent piety, but men of fan capacity, and com- CHAP' 5> petently learned. In the Franciscans of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, what has become known in our time under the name of the voluntary system, may be said to have been put upon its trial. When the first delegation of friars landed at Dover settlement in 1224, the authorities took them for vagrants, or Leans in"" something worse. But one of their number satisfied England" the men in office of then mistake, by making very hght of being hanged, and offered the rope from: his waist to be used in the ceremony, if no better should be avaUable. Such is the temperament generally given to • men who have some mission in life. With the help of the scanty fare, and the sour beer, obtained at religious houses on their way, the first colony of Minorites reach London, and construct tenements for themselves on the CornhiU, near the New-gate. The buddings are of the poorest description imaginable, dried grass being stuffed into the crevices to keep out the wind and rain. In that age, plague and leprosy were the terrible Their bene- maladies, especiaUy among the crowded populations of towns. But leprosy had come into Europe from the Holy Land with the return of the Crusaders. Much had been recorded concerning it in the sacred Scrip tures. It was the figure of what aU men are by nature. Even the Incarnate One was regarded as taking his place, in the language of prophecy, with this class of sufferers. Hence, while some looked on the leper with special horror, seeing in that malady mor# than in any other a direct infliction for sin, the more general feeling was one of special compassion, and almost of rehgious awe. Persons so afflicted, however, were as much shut off from society as they would have been among the ancient Hebrews. With the Francis cans, these chUdren of calamity, and the hospitals set apart for them, were special objects of attention. In general, the friar knew something of the healing art, 560 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. Their preaching. book iv. and exercised his skiU in that way while administering chapj. ^e co-Qgoiations of religion. He had thus a double claim on the gratitude of the objects of his compassion. Of course, the men who were thus to be found in the most avoided haunts of human wretchedness, were to be found in aU places where the necessitous were the most likely to be forgotten or neglected. In their preaching, the friars eschewed the learned and logical style then so common. In their view, the clergy had become disqualified for their work by their learning, hardly less than by their wealth. They were themselves poor men preaching to the poor, and lay* • men preaching to the laity. Their language was studiously simple. Their Ulustrations were studiously popular. They found material for discourse in the weU-known legend, in dramatic dialogue, in every-day life, and in their own thought and experience. Medi tation and feeling, more than books, made them what they were as preachers. Men and women to whom sermons had long been beyond all things uninteUigible and duU, now hung upon the lips of the preacher, and would travel far to enjoy that privilege. Great was the success of the new institute. In little more than thirty years the Minorites of England could boast of being more than twelve hundred in number, and of having fixed centres of operation for their missionary work in nearly fifty English towns. As we read the accounts of their progress, of the effects produced by their preaching, and of the number of con versions, we may almost imagine that we are perusing ihe journal of. the pious founder of Methodism. Reli gious and humane persons supplied them with funds. Their good works made them many friends. But the monk had rarely a good word for them, and the paro chial clergy generally shared in the same feeling of jealousy. But it was not to be expected that the energy which could achieve such things would remain content with that indifference to learning which St. Francis had Their snc- The Fran ciscans be comelearned. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 561 enjoined. The condition of mind with which the book iv. Franciscans had to deal in the intelligent and sceptical ci!±Ilf portions of the lower classes in towns, rendered it necessary that the ' competently learned' qualification of then founder should be liberally interpreted. The attacks made upon them, moreover, by their rivals, the monks and the clergy, contributed to render some change in this respect necessary. Their great patron, Grostete, was fuUy alive to this necessity, and con sented to dehver lectures to them in Oxford. Many of the more learned and gifted men of their own order did the same in different parts of the kingdom. So, by degrees, the disciples of St. Francis, whUe adhering to the general maxims of his institute, became scien tific and learned, and, in the end, more scientific and more learned than the older orders in the church. Men of scientific taste among them could boast of then Friar Bacon, and men of scholastic ambition could boast of then Bonaventura and Duns Scotus. But evd came from this source with the good. Good and The logic of Aristotle was opposed to mysticism. It this change. was an assertion of the authority of ' common sense.' It was favourable to exactness in expression, and to the inteUigible in arrangement. In the hands of the Franciscans it contributed largely, directly or indi rectly, willingly or unwUlingly, to freedom of thought. Everywhere, a tendency to oppose reason to mere au thority, had become manifest. The Franciscan school- •men declared themselves willing to meet the thought: of the age on this ground ; and undertook to show that revelation itself, in place of being a setting up of authority against reason, was in fact an appeal^ to reason. It was inevitable that the result of taking such ground would be of a mixed nature. The exist ing church, resting as it did almost wholly on autho rity, could not fail to suffer. The application of this' logic, with its endless distinctions, to controver sies of every possible description, threw such an air of contradiction and unsettledness over everything, that T o o 562 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the men who had acquired a high reputation as "^j' preachers to the poor, became objects of popular con tempt, as wasting existence in little else than the con founding of each other with their mutual subtleties. When learning among the Franciscan leaders had so far spoded them for carrying out the strict intentions of their founder, others had begun to show signs of deterioration from less reputable causes. That love of ease and indulgence, which St. Francis saw, or thought he- saw, in the distance, as the great danger of his order, proved to be not only there, but to be quit© as perilous as his. devout fear had led him to imagine. Many of his disciples feU under those influences. The consequence was a rapid dechne in popular esti-, mation; and in then attempts to retain the power which was thus passing away from them, the second generation of Franciscans descended so often to the use of low artifice and vulgar superstition, that the order which had been haded by men like Grostete as a divine gift to the age, are in the end denounced by such men as Chaucer and Wycliffe as a disgrace to the church and the nation. sapid aete- In less than thirty years from the death of St. thelrJ^-0* Francis, we find that Bonaventura, the greatest man among the governors of his Order, felt constrained to address the provincial ministers in the foUowing terms : ' The indolence of our brethren is laying open ' the path to every vice. They are immersed in carnal ' repose. They roam up and down everywhere, bur- ' thening every place to which they come. So im- ' portunate are then demands, and such their rapacity, ' that it has become no less terrible to fall in with ' them than with so many robbers. So sumptuous is ' the structure of then magnificent buildings as to ' bring us aU into discredit. So "frequently are they ' involved in those culpable intricacies which our rule ' prohibits, that suspicion, scandal, and reproach have ' been excited against us.'* cisoans. * Biographical Essays, by Sir James Stephen, i. 149. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 563' While these signs of change did so much to diminish book iv. the popularity of the Franciscans, their rigid ortho- °HAP' 5' doxy, and the zeal with which they upheld every pre tension of the papacy, tended to the same result. Innocent III., who gave the papal sanction to the mission of St. Francis, was a man of extraordinary intelligence and energy. Fraternities and sects of every description had grown up of late over Europe, all more or less hostile to the priesthood, and to the religious teaching of the age. By means of the disci ples of St. Francis, the far-sighted pontiff hoped to give a check to these tendencies, by- opposing frater nity to fraternity, and one class of popular preachers to another. It was only as shielded by his holiness, that the Franciscans could hope to keep their ground in the face of the frequent hostility of the bishops, of the older rehgious orders, and of the more influential of the laity. Interest, accordingly, to say nothing of gratitude, disposed them to become conspicuous as champions of the papal power, and of its most extra vagant dogmas. The natural effect followed. The reforming spirit of the times came to be everywhere against them. The antagonism which then institute had seemed to present to the enormous wealth and worldliness of the -hierarchy was pronounced a fraud. If to be distinguished from other ecclesiastical schemes, it was only as being more hypocritical, by keeping up the appearance of a peculiar self-denial which was such only in appearance. Such, however, was the shrewd adaptation of the institute to its purpose, that, not withstanding ad these abuses, it has survived in con siderable vigour in Catholic countries to this day. The great preachers in Italy are stdl the ' Preaching Friars.' The pages of Chaucer disclose much concerning Chaucer's the moral and rehgious state of the community Sty.8 °f among whom the English Franciscans had to pro secute then labours in his day. In the Canterbury Tales, we have a group of characters which, are o o 2 564. ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. mostly from the middle class, with frequent glances — !_' at the general state of manners about the middle of the fourteenth century. Both the ecclesiastical persons, and the lay persons, belong to the same grade. They all come before us, moreover, as led out in cavalcade by the religious spirit of the times. Their place of destination is the tomb of Thomas a Becket. Their object is an act of rehgious worship. Some of these tales, however, are of a strange material, especiaUy as coming from the lips of persons travelling for such a purpose. Some of the stories, indeed, show that the legends of ancient piety and martyrdom were still read by religious , persons with deep interest, and were made familiar to the ear of society generaUy. Faith, it would ap-. pear, in the tender offices and intercessions of the Virgin, was often strong, and also in the received doctrines of the church ; and by that faith the pure and afflicted spirit was not unfrequently sustained under much wrong and suffering. It seems clear, that pictures of saintly purity, patience, and heroism could be devoutly admired in those days. But these tales enable us to look into the homes of the middle and . lower classes generally, both in town and country. They are pictures of habits and manners ; and the strong worldliness and sensuousness- which were softened by a comparative refinement in the upper ranks, are there seen to become so gross as to cause the common talk of societv to be most licentious and corrupting. The pilgrims on their way to Can terbury, male and female, listen to narratives so ob scene and lascivious, as to be better suited to the worst haunts of vice than to modest and devout ears. The clerk and the monk, the prioress and the nun, are aU among the hsteners to these impure stories. ' Such, it seems, was society, religious society, at that time. The same tales furnish pictures of ecclesiastical characters which are in a high degree instructive. The portrait of the ' Pardoner' embodies the craft, the RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 565 covetousness, and the mendacity which were attributed book iv. to the ' Begging Friars' by Armachanus, Wycliffe, and °HAP' 5' others. The fact that rehgious functionaries of such a character were found everywhere, shows what the ecclesiastical system could tolerate, and accounts in part for the disaffection with which it came to be re garded. Similar thoughts are suggested by the sketch of the ' Sumpnoure,' an official who exacts aU sorts of clerical dues in a manner the most merciless and iniquitous. The monks introduced do little honour to the canons of the church touching celibacy ; and the ' Clerke of Oxenforde' shows how the paro chial clergyman might be given to his fopperies and amours, and still retain his cure of souls. The effect of the errors and corruptions of the Effect of ecclesiastical system was different on different classes aystem on e of persons. Men not disposed to concern themselves ^^s. with anything of a rehgious nature, were strengthened in every tendency towards irreligion, and the number of the positively irreligious, even in those superstitious times, was much greater than is commonly imagined, Others were thus influenced only so far as to be prompted to lift up their voice in parliament, or else where, against the abuses of the system, continuing, after all, in the main, good Catholics. But there was another class whose defection rested, not merely on moral, or national, but on rehgious grounds, and who embraced most of the opinions which became prevalent in this country as Protestant doctrine in the sixteenth century. The name most prominently associated with thewyciiffe. progress of these opinions is that of John de Wycliffe. This extraordinary man is supposed to have been born in 1324, in a village which bears his name, on the banks of the Tees in Yorkshire. He appears to have entered Oxford in 1340, and was mainly resident in that university until within about three years of his death, which took place in 1384. He first distinguished himself in a controversy with 566 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. the Mendicant orders, which is generally dated from Chap' 5' about the year 1 360, and when he must have been not H'^dispute more than thirty-six years of age. Other writers had friars. marked the rapidity with which these orders had faUen away from the institute of -their founder. Their preaching had degenerated so as to be little adapted to the rehgious or the moral improvement of their hearers. They managed, moreover, to become very rich, in the face of a vow which doomed them ~to poverty; and, as will be supposed, the wealth thus disingenuously obtained, became the cause of a stiU deeper deterioration. But many of them had become learned, distinguished themselves as professors, and were so skilled in intrigue, especially in making proselytes from among the sons of wealthy families, that before the middle of the fourteenth century, parents had ceased so generally to send their children to Oxford, that the students of the University were reduced to about a fifth of their former number. There were four orders of friars, of which the Domi nicans and Franciscans, especially the latter, were the best known in England. The ground taken by Wycliffe in his controversy with these fraternities was distinguished from that taken by his precursors, as consisting, not so much in complaints of alleged abuses, as in exception taken to the institute of the religious orders considered in itself. Wycliffe upheld the authority of- the parochial clergy. He accounted the mendicant preachers in truders upon ground already occupied. He denounced the conduct of St. Francis and others in originating such orders, as an attempt to do something" for the church which her Divine Founder had not been wise enough, or powerful enough, to do — an assumption which he described as nothing short of blasphemy. Thus, in the first step of his course as a controver sialist, we find the germ of the Protestant doctrine concerning the sufficiency of Scripture ; and that. principle once seized, was never relinquished. The RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 567 mission of the Saviour was to found his church, and book iv to institute that ' order' for her benefit best adapted Chap' 5' to her need ; and to attempt to supplement and amend what He had thus completed, was to reflect on Him as a defective instructor, who had not attained to our standard of wisdom and goodness. In the year 1360, Wycliffe appears to have obtained His p«**- his first preferment, which consisted of the living 0f menta' FiUingham, in the diocese of Lincoln. That living was in the gift' of the fellows of Balliol College, Oxford; and in that same year Wycliffe became master of BaUiol. Four years later he ceased, from causes unknown to us, to be master of BaUiol, and became known as warden of Canterbury Hall' founded by Simon de Islep, who was then archbishop of Canterbury.* Canterbury HaU was designed at first for a certain number of clerical or secular scholars ; together with a lesser number and a warden, who should be monks, and be chosen from the monastery of Christchurch, Canterbury. But the rivalries between the parochial clergy and the religious orders in those days were ceaseless and bitter. The experiment in this case was not successful. Feud grew up between the two parties ; and Islep resolved to alter the foun dation of the establishment by restricting its advan tages to the secular clergy only, to the exclusion of either monks or friars. It was on this new basis that Wycliffe, by the choice of Islep, became warden. The monks were excluded, and with them WoodhaU the warden. WoodhaU and his brother monks pro tested against this proceeding; and petitioned Peter * Attempts have been recently made to show that the warden of Can terbury Hall was not Wycliffe the Reformer, but one Whyteclyve of May- field, who is supposed to have been in favour with archbishop Islep. But this new idea is beset with all sorts of difficulty — the old one is, we feel assured, the true one. — See the subject discussed in John de Wycliffe, a Monograph, by the Author, c. iii. And in an article intitled Wycliffe, his Biographers and Critics, in No. LVI. of the British Quarterly Review. '568 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. Langham, who became archbishop of Canterbury in ^I_' the place of Islep, deceased, to annul what had been done, and to restore them to their former position. Their plea was, that Islep had been unduly influenced in making the late change, and had taken this course in his last sickness, when incompetent to act. Lang- ham, who had himself been a monk, and abbot of Westminster, was inclined to perpetuate the original connexion between Canterbury Hall and the monastery in Canterbury, and accordingly restored WoodhaU and his brethren. It was now Wycliffe's turn to protest. But for him and his expelled clerks there was no remedy, it seems, except by causing their suit to be taken to the papal court. This step was taken. The litigation thus commenced extended over nearly four years — froni 1367 to 1370 ; and through the joint influ ence of Canterbury and gold, a verdict was at length obtained in favour of the monks. His opinion It was while this cause was pending:, that pope on the kine1 -r • johntri- Urban jlemanded payment of the tribute promised by bute' king John. We have seen how the English parlia ment met that demand. An anonymous monk pub hshed an argument in favour of the claim which had been thus repudiated, and challenged Wycliffe by name to reply to it. Wycliffe, who by this time had become chaplain to the king, answered the challenge in a paper which gives the substance of the debate upon the question in the House of Lords. In this paper Wycliffe declares the papal claim to be baseless, on the ground both of reason and Scripture. He was weU aware of the probable effect of such a course on his pending suit ; but he nevertheless gives utterance in this publication to some of those opinions which, as further developed and diffused, were to expose him ere long to so much trouble. Becomes Wycliffe appears to have taken his degree as Doctor in Divinity in 1372, which authorized him, according to the usage of those times, to deliver lectures as a professor of theology in the university. He availed RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 569 himself promptly and sedulously of this privdege. bookiv. Two years later, we find him one of an embassy ap- nAP' 5' pointed to negotiate with the papal delegates at Bruges, on those proceedings of the papal court of which such frequent and loud complaint had been made in the Enghsh parhament. The part taken by Wycliffe in this embassy, which . lasted nearly two years, and the effect of his more public labours in Oxford, rendered him increasingly obnoxious to the papal court, and to the more servile of its partisans in this country. In 1377, accordingly, letters are sent by the pope, Proceed- both to Oxford and to Canterbury, insisting that in- S;asainst quiry should be forthwith made concerning the doc trines said to be promulgated by Wycliffe. He is in consequence summoned to appear before the English convocation in St. Paul's. He makes his appearance there, but it is with John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, on the one side, and earl Percy, marshal of England, on the other. Courtney, bishop of London, was the presiding churchman ; and the advance of the noble men and their attendants towards the space where the clergy were seated, appears to have caused some noise and disturbance. An old Chronicle has described the scene which ensued. Bishop Courtney. — Lord Percy, if I had known what masteries you would have kept in the church, I would have stopped you from coming hither. Duke of Lancaster. — He shall keep such masteries, though you say nay. Lord Percy. — Wycliffe, sit down, for you have many things to answer to, and you need to repose yourself on a soft seat. Bishop Courtney. — It is unreasonable that one cited before his ordinary should sit down during his answer. He must and shall stand. . Duke of Lancaster.— Lord. Percy s* motion for Wy cliffe is but reasonable. And as for you, my lord bishop, who are grown so proud and arrogant, I will 570 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. BOOK Ciiap iv. bring down the pride, not of you alone, but of all the" prelacy in England. Bishop Courtney. — Do your worst, sh. Duke of Lancaster. — Thou bearest thyself so brag upon thy parents,* which shad not be able to keep thee: they shaU have enough to do to help them selves. Bishop Courtney. — My confidence is not in my parents, nor in any man else, but only in God, in whom I trust, by whose assistance I wdl be bold to speak the truth. Duke of Lancaster. — Rather than I wiU take these words at his hands, I wdl pluck the bishop by the hah out of the church.f This last expression was dropped in an undertone to earl Percy. It was heard, however, by the people near, who seem to have been more disposed to side with the bishop than with the duke. Much excitement and confusion foUowed. The meeting was dissolved, ahd the Reformer withdrew under the protection of his powerful friends. synod at Some nine months later, it was noised abroad that Wycliffe was about to appear before a synod of the clergy in Lambeth. On this occasion he had not the presence of great men to sustain him. But the people were with him, and in then demonstrations in Ids favour became loud and disorderly. Encouraged by the presence of some wealthy citizens, the populace forced their way into the chapel, to be witnesses of the proceedings. The clergy were alarmed. StiU more so when Sh Lewis Clifford made his appearance, and in the name of the queen-mother forbade their pro ceeding to any conclusions injurious to Wycliffe. wyciiffe-s Something, however, was done. Wycliffe had re- SiargS ceived a paper containing a statement of the false Lambeth. against him. * His fether was the powerful Hugh Courtney, earl of Devonshire, a family which boasted of its descent from Charlemagne. t Ex Hist. Monachi Albani, in Foxe, Acts and Mon. ii. 797, 800. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 571 doctrines attributed to him. To this paper the Re- book iv. former had prepared a written answer, which was placed CuAF' 5' in the hands of the commissioners. Wycliffe retired amidst the acclamations of the people, but the dele gates sat in judgment on his paper, and the sentiments expressed in it were all declared to be either erroneous or heretical. The grand points in this document were twofold — those which placed the ultimate au thority in relation to the persons and property of churchmen in the hands of the laity ; and those which stripped the censures pronounced so freely by eccle siastics in those times of all vahdity, except as they should happen to be in accordance with the will of God. . It pertained to the laity, as an ultimate autho rity, to correct a delinquent clergy ; and the supposed power of the priest to make the spiritual condition of any man at all other than the man himself had already made it, was declared to be a mere priestly invention. This was to deprive the clergy of the weapons which had given them the sort of dominion in things tem poral and spiritual of which they were possessed. It was to take the souls of the people out of their hands. During the next four years Wycliffe's labours in opposes the Oxford were abundant, both in lecturing and in transub- authorship. Through every year during the last 8tantiatlon- twenty years of his life, his opinions appear to have become more and more adverse to those which the ruling clergy were concerned to uphold. The climax of his offending at the close of the four years men tioned was, his lecturing openly against the doctrine of transubstantiation. Proceeding thus far, he was silenced by the chancellor of the university, and his power to be useful as heretofore in Oxford, was thus brought to a close. This happened in 138 1. The remaining three years of his hfe he resided on Eetjres t„ his cure as rector of Lutterworth, where he preached worth. constantly, revised his theological lectures for publi cation, carried on his translation of the entire Bible 572 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. into English, and published an almost incredible num- _' ber of tracts and treatises, all bearing on his one object — the reformation of the religion of the times. summary According to the doctrine of Wycliffe, the crown doctrine, was supreme in . authority, over all persons and pos sessions in this realm of England — the persons of churchmen being amenable to the civil courts, in com mon with the laity ; and the property of churchmen -being subject to the will of the king, as expressed through the law of the land, in common with all other property. Nor was it enough that he should thus preclude the papal court from all meddling with secular affairs in this English land. According to his ultimate doctrine, the pretence of the pope to exercise even spiritual jurisdiction over the church of England, as being himself the head of all churches, should be repudiated as an insolent and mischievous usurpation. The whole framework of the existing hierarchy he describes as a device of clerical ambition ; the first step in its ascending scale, the distinction between bishop and presbyter, being an innovation on the polity of the early church, in which the clergy were aU upon an equality. Concerning the Sacraments, he retained the ordi nance of Baptism, but without receiving the doctrine of the church in respect to it as being necessary in all cases to salvation. In like manner he re tained the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, but with out the doctrine of transubstantiation or of con- substantiation. Confirmation was, in his view, a cus tom originated by churchmen to gratify their pride ; and penance was a usage which had come from the same source, and which had been so managed as to be always much prized by covetous and ambitious priests. To. the same effect does he express himself concerning the alleged sacraments of Holy Orders and Extreme Unction. None of these services, he main tains, necessarily convey any beneficial influence, and aU are more or less disfigured by superstition, and RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 573 fraught with delusion. But Wycliffe was a believer book iv. to the last in the existence of an intermediate state, Chap' 5' and in the efficacy of prayer on the part of the hving for souls in that state. But masses for the dead he describes as a piece of priestly machinery, carefuUy adjusted with a view to gain. The prayer of a lay man, he insisted, would be quite as efficacious as that of a priest, while aU prayer must be fruitless, except as coming from faith and charity. In regard to church censures, he taught that men are never the better nor the worse for them, inasmuch as the spiritual con dition of the worshipper, as a responsible creature, and that alone, determined his destiny. He saw the wealth of the church as St. Francis had seen it, as having brought all kind of evU upon Christendom. But he was not content simply to oppose an order of ' poor priests' to an order of rich ones. His maxim was, that it became every Christian people to support a Christian priesthood, but that suitable ' livelihood and clothing' were sufficient. In short, there was a lofty idealism in his doctrine concerning human authority altogether, which was liable to be misunderstood, and brought him into some trouble. His general notion on this subject, though derived mainly from Augustine, has a feudal cast about it. In his view, the Divine Being is Chief Lord in relation to aU earthly authorities and possessions. AU are received from him on con ditions, and those conditions fading, the gifts are forfeited — but forfeited in respect to God, not in re spect to man. The priest who fell into mortal sin for feited his office and possessions in respect to man; but Wycliffe's writings abundantly show, that in the case of the layman, when found to be thus delinquent, the consequences were regarded as purely spiritual, and as having relation to God only, not as temporal, and to be dealt with as such by society.* * John de Wycliffe, c. xii. Wycliffe, his Biographers and Critics, 37. The Rev. W. W. Shirley's account of Wycliffe, recently published (Fasciculi Zisaniorum), is full of error. 574" ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. The fact that a man who published such tenets chapj. ghould have lived at large so long, and have died in his Freedom of ^a SUcpgfests that the force of opinion on the side of opinion in ' o-o r ¦ the four- free thought and free utterance must have been great century, in those days. It is true, bishop Courtney could venture to bring the terrors of persecution to bear on men of less mark; but it appears to have been felt to the last, that to adopt severe measures towards Wycliffe, might be to evince more zeal than prudence. His opinions embraced nearly every dogma since professed by Protestants, and some which were so far advanced that few Protestants even now are found prepared to adopt them. He multiplied tracts and treatises in English, and of a size to admit of wide circulation, to a marvellous extent. He encouraged a class of men, known by the name of ' poor priests,' to travel from county to county, and to preach in churchyards, fairs, markets, or in any other place where people were wont to congregate, and might be disposed to listen to them. Nor were these itinerant orators without then friends. Knights and gentle men might often be seen standing near them, pre pared to act as then defenders.* These agencies came, as we have seen, in the wake of much that served to make the people willing to hearken to -such instructors. Such was the effect produced on the popular mind, that, according to the historians of the time, you might be sure that every second man you met would be a disciple of the new doctrine. On the whole, it is hardly too much to say, that England was more ripe for a Protestant reformation in the last days of Edward III. than in the best days of Henry VIII. But the Continent was not in an equal degree pre pared for such a change. The policy of Richard II. towards religion, was like his policy in everything, right and wrong by turns, but always feeble. Under his sanction the persecution * Knighton, 2660, 2661. remonstrance. RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 575 of the disciples of Wycliffe began. But while thus book iv. making enemies of all classes of reformers, he failed C"AP' 5' to make friends of the clergy, or of the papal court. He did many things which were meant to be accept able in those quarters, but he had neither the power nor the disposition to do all that was expected from him. The persecution of the LoUards — for by that name the religious reformers now began to be dis tinguished, extended over the whole reign of Richard IL It was particularly felt in Herefordshire, Leices ter, Nottingham, and in Northampton. But the feel ing of disaffection was .-not subdued, it was rather diffused, and became more outspoken. The memorable. ' Remonstrance' of this party, published in 1395, as an address to the people and parliament of England, furnished sufficient evidence on this point. The authors of this paper say, that the church of The England, since she began to dote on temporalities, Wy,1"fiu after the example of Rome her stepmother, has de clined in faith, hope, and charity, and become infected with pride and all deadly sin ; that priestly ordination, as commonly performed, is a human invention, and delusive, the gift of the Holy Ghost, being restricted to spiritual men, and never conferred because a bishop affects to confer it ; that the professed celibacy of the clergy leads to every kind of sensuous wickedness, and that for this reason, aU monasteries and nunneries. should be dissolved ; that the doctrine of transubstan tiation, as commonly taught, is inseparable from idol atry, and would be at once discarded if the language of the Evangelical doctor (Wycliffe), in his Trialogus, were wisely considered; that the custom of exorcising, and the manner of consecrating places and things, savour more of necromancy than of the Gospel ; that the clergy sin against religion and the state by assum ing worldly offices ; that prayer for the dead, if offered at aU, should have respect to the departed generaUy, and not to particular persons, aU hireling services of this nature, as wanting, in charity, . being assuredly 576 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. valueless ; that auricular confession and absolution, as chapj. ordinanly practised, lead to impurity, and are of no Worth, except as serving to uphold the dominion of ¦ priests ; that pdgrimages to do honour to images and relics are idolatrous, a device of the clergy to keep the people in ignorance, and to augment their own wealth and power ; and that all aggressive wars, whether on the plea of religion or conquest, are contrary to the lette.r and spirit of the religion of Christ.* These were bold utterances to be found in a docu ment presented to the commons of England. But so presented it was, and its contents were largely dis cussed, as including much deserving grave considera tion. Richard censured Sir Lewis Clifford, Sir John Latimer, Sir Richard Sturry, Sh John Montague, and others, for the favour shown by them to the com plaints of these malcontents. Pope Boniface wrote expressing his amazement and grief that men should be found in the English parliament capable of sympa thizing in any degree with such opinions. But the reforming members of the Lower House found the rebuke of the king and the pope more than counter balanced by the applause of the people. Papers were posted by night on the doors of St. Paul's and West minster Abbey, in which ridicule and scorn were heaped upon the errors and corruptions attributed to the reh gious orders and to the clergy generaUy. f Reasoning It may seem strange, that the clergy of the four- cfergy at teenth century should find themselves confronted with tws time, these signs of disaffection, and never appear to suspect that there was some truth and justice in the feeling thus expressed, nor seem to have once thought that it might possibly be wise to endeavour to neutralize and remove it by amendment. They might reasonably take excep tion to many of these opinions, and to much in the temper of the men by whom they were broached: The logic of Wycliffe himself might be often at fault, and . * Remonstrance, &c, edited by Rev. Gr. Forshall. t Pose, an. 1395. . ^ji RELIGIOUS LIFE IN ENGLAND. 577 his temper not less so, but was there nothing in the book iv. man or in his doings entitled to a better estimation ? CHAP' 5" In the place of any measure of considerateness and discrimination of this sort, the one idea of the clergy seems to have been, that the discontented were such always and whoUy without reason, and that the only fitting mode to deal with them was to coerce them, and, when possible, to crush them without mercy. Such, then, were the conditions of religious life in Retrospect. England from the age of Magna Charta to the ac cession of the house of Lancaster. The relations between the English church and the papacy, led to endless disputes between the crown and the ruling classes on the one side, — and the popes, with their dependents and adherents, on the other. With reli gion proper these strifes had httle to do. The struggle was between two great systems of patronage. The object on either side, was to secure the largest possible • share in the distribution ofthe offices and emoluments of an opulent hierarchy. Beneath the region in which this conflict was carried on were the people, who were not greatly edified by the example thus constantly presented to them on the part of the powers above them. But as politicians were thus taught to use sharp speech in describing the conduct of the accre dited guides of the church, the example became infec tious, and something of its effect is seen in that free utterance of the popular mind on religious matters which characterized the reign of Edward III. During that half century, the civd power was expected to be the shield of those who ventured upon such cri ticisms ; and fear of the. clergy was limited by the fact, that whatever might be their disposition to persecute, it was no secret that their power in that direction was not great. In the latter half of the fourteenth cen tury, accordingly, we find the interval in our annals which is marked by the highest culture, and the largest measure of freedom, known in our history, untU we come to the times of the Reformation. Men- T P P 578 ENGLISH AND NORMANS. book iv. tally, ethically, and religiously, the reign of Edward chapj. jjj ^g ^g h^gh-test portion of our Middle Age life. It gave us aU the great principles and precedents of the English Constitution, and with these our Chaucer and our Wycliffe. Men felt, in those days, that they might be devout without fear, cherish freedom of thought, and indulge in a large freedom of speech. On the accession of Richard II. , the spirit of the country was more buoyant and free than on the acces sion of Henry VIII., and the relative number of truly devout men in it would seem to have been much greater in the former time than in the latter. BOOK V. LANCASTER AND YORK. CHAPTER I. THE REACTION. THE arbitrary conduct of Richard IL, coupled as it bookv was with so many signs of weakness and wicked- °HAP' '• ness, account sufficiently for the deposition which ^c^on awaited him. The earl of March, son of Lionel, duke iv. of Clarence, was the next heir to the throne. But Henry of Lancaster, who was also cousin to Richard, had suffered much from his hands, and was placed by circumstances at the head of the powerful party in arms against him. By the barons, the clergy, and the people, Lancaster was regarded as the most eligible person to fill the vacant throne ; and, by an act of the English parhament, Henry, duke of Lancaster, was accepted as king of England. These events form an epoch of change. The causes of this change, however, were not so much national as personal. We find them in the character of the king, and in the factions of bis court. They came from the nation only in so far as the nation had be come possessed with a spirit of freedom, and had been too long famdiar with the forms of comparatively good government, to aUow of its being content under a king whose passions so often set law at defiance, and tended only to bad government. But if the causes of this change are found m per- hib policy. sons more than in the nation, the interests of the nation were deeply affected by it. Arundel, arch- pp2 580 LANCASTER AND TORK. book v. bishop of Canterbury, visited Henry in his exile, and chapj. jndUced him to engage in the enterprise which placed him on the throne. This circumstance seemed to pro mise that there would be a fast friendship between the house of Lancaster and the church. But, on the other hand, John of Gaunt, the father of the new king, had been the great patron of Wycliffe, and the king himself had been disposed at one time to favour the new doctrines. It soon became manifest, how ever, that the crown and the mitre were about to com bine in an effort to crush those tendencies on the side of a change in rehgion which had grown to be so formidable. Henry knew, probably, that, since the disorders under Wat Tyler, many of the great men had learnt to look with suspicion on the proceedings of the reformers, and he appears to have persuaded himself, that LoUardism in the middle and lower classes might be kept safely in check, if only the church and the barons should prove faithful to him. But his nobles were not aU found faithful. The rumours of plotting against him, in more than one quarter, soon came to his ears. Men whom his cle mency had spared conspired to destroy him. The Scots, the Welsh, and the Percys, compelled him to " take the field against them. In aU these signs of un- settledness we see the effect of the irregularities and violence to which Henry had been indebted for his elevation. He was a king, but the Percys had made him such, and the jealousies from this source, and others of a similar complexion elsewhere, made his ex perience of sovereignty no enviable matter. statute for For a whUe, however, even the House of Commons wSI. were prepared to abet some of the worst features of the king's pohcy. In the second year of Henry IV. the statute for the burning of heretics was passed. This instrument commences with stating that complaints were often and everywhere made about persons who, without licence from the proper authority, gave them selves to preaching ; who retained possession of here- THE REACTION. 581 tical books, convened unlawful assemblies, and dif- book v. fused in many ways the most pestilent opinions. °HAP' '• The provisions made against these disorders are— that no man shaU preach in future who is not duly autho rized ; that, within the next forty days, aU books con taining doctrines at variance with the determinations of the church, shall be delivered to the ecclesiastical officers ; that all persons suspected of offending in these respects, or of being present at unlawful meet ings, or of favouring such meetings, or the errors taught in them, shall be committed to the bishop's prison, to be there dealt with at his pleasure, during a space not exceeding three months ; and if such per sons fail to clear themselves of the charges brought against them, or shaU not abjure their errors if con victed, or shall relapse into error after such abjura tion, then the officers of the place, both civil and cle rical, shaU confer together, ' and sentence being duly ' pronounced, the magistrate shaU take into hand the ' persons so offending, and any of them, and cause them ' to be burned in the sight of all the people, to the in- * tent that this kind of punishment may be a terror to ' others, that the like wicked doctrine and heretical ' opinions, and the authors or favourers of them, may * not be any longer maintained within the realm.'* In this law we -see how the king could use a subser vient parliament, and how the clergy could use a selfish and blood-guilty king. To this statute another was added, which declared ecclesiastics exempt from the tribunal of the magistrate in criminal cases, a demand of the clergy which had been so often resisted by our sovereigns. Two men perished under the statute for the burning of heretics during the reign of Henry IV.— William # Stat. 2'Henry IV. c. 15. Coke, Instit. p. iii. c S Stage to sav Sir Edward's exposition ofthe reason of th.s statute, if admitted, would seem fully to justify it. We proscribe the leper, and heresy, he writes, isThe deadliest form of leprosy.-Burnefs ReformaUon, bk. l 44, 45. Puller's Church Hist. 11. 38S-~39°- 582 LANCASTER AND TORK. book v. Sawtre, a clergyman, and John Badby, a mechanic. — Z' They had both embraced the doctrine of Wycliffe on the ladby6 and eucharist, and on some other points. Sawtre appears burnt. to have been somewhat wanting in consistency and firmness. Badby was a true martyr. Both perished at the stake.* But the king did not rise in popular estimation by this policy. Placards were fixed on church doors, and elsewhere, denouncing him as a per jured tyrant and usurper. The blood of his prede cessor, and of other noble persons, was said to be upon him. Discontented barons, and persecuted Wycliffites, were prepared to join in league against him He was soon obliged to unsheath'the sword in defence of his crown; and in future he does not cease to find assailants of his policy within the walls of parliament. Reforming In the fourth year of his reign the commons peti- commons. tioned that every benefice should have an incumbent always resident ; that no Frenchman who had -taken the vows of a monk should remain in the kingdom ; that aU priories in the hands of foreigners should be seized ; that the clergy and the religious orders should be required to do hospitality from their revenues ; and that no youth under the age of twenty-one should be received into any order of mendicants. These were demands which Wycliffe would have applauded. When the next parliament assembled, an attempt. was made by the chancellor to repress this freedom, by stating, in behalf of the king, that it was the royal pleasure that the church should be maintained, in all her immunities, as in the times of his predecessors, every kingdom being like the human body, possessing a right side, which consists of the church, and a left, which consists of the temporal powers, the com monalty being as the remaining members. The reply of the commons to this arrogant nonsense, was in the shape of a petition praying the king to remove his * Wilkins, iii. 234 et seq. Foxe, i. 6jS> 687. Puller's Church Hist. "• 391' 392- THE REACTION. 583 confessor, and two other persons of his household, book v. Henry now saw that his attempt to over-awe the CHAP' I- reformers by high talk had not been successful. He not only assented to the petition, but added that he was prepared to displace any other persons whose presence near him may have been displeasing to his people. Nothing, he assured his faithful commons, was nearer his heart, than to reign as a good king ; and he proceeded so far as to invite the house to lay freely before bim whatever measures should appear to them as likely to conduce to the honour of God, or the welfare of the state.* It is probable that by this language the king hoped to check, rather than to stimulate, the reforming spirit of the commons. But if such was his policy, it was not successful. The commons prayed that the persons selected by the king, in the settling of his household, should be persons of good reputation, and that notification should be given them of what was done in that respect. In the next session, they pro ceed so far as to urge that the king should provide for the expenses of his establishment without aid from parliament. On the matter of his household arrange ments Henry readily assented ; and on the matter of his expenses he promised to do as desired so soon as* convenient, f In dealing with ecclesiastical matters the commons did not scruple to- complain of the king as allowing the burdens of his wars to fall much too lightly on the clergy. . The archbishop of Canterbury said, in reply, that the clergy paid then tenths more frequently than the laity did their fifteenths; that they sent their tenants to join the king's standard whenever required to do so ; and that they were themselves doing him no smaU service by engaging in religious services, day and night, in his favour. The Speaker touched slightingly on those spiritual contributions of the clergy to which * Plac. Pari. 499-52 j. t Ibid. iii. 523-549. 584 LANCASTER AND YORK. eookv. the archbishop appeared to attach so much impor- —~ZZ tance — whereupon the primate threw himself at the feet of the king, imploring him to use his authority for the protection of the church, declaring himself wiUing to encounter any danger from fire or sword, rather than see the church bereft of the smallest por tion of her rights.* But the commons were not to be diverted from their course by these passionate pro ceedings. They drew up a statistical paper, which was said to show, that the possessions of the prelates, the abbots, and the priors, were so great, that there should be contributed to the service of the crown from that source, over and above the contribution at pre sent made, a sum equal in value to the service claimed from 13 earls, 1500 knights, and 6200 esquires ! When these figures came before the king, his for tunes were in an improved condition. He could afford to evade the questions thus raised, and he did so. Discouraged at this point, the commons directed their attention to another. They prayed that all ecclesi astics might be placed in subjection to the lay tri bunals in civil cases, as in former times ; and one effect of the recent execution of John Badby, was to lead the commons to petition for a repeal of the statute for burning heretics. To the former petition the king did not — perhaps dared not — assent; with the latter, he so far complied, that no further execution for heresy took place during his reign.f Arundel's While the reformers in parliament employed them selves after this manner, the prelates were assiduous in then endeavours to strengthen themselves in the more favourable position which new circumstances had assigned to them. In a convocation of the clergy in 1408, a series of ' constitutions,' attributed to arch bishop Arundel, were adopted, which declared that the pope, as holding the keys of life and death for the constitu tions * Wals. Hist. 371 et seq. f Walsing. Hist. 421, 422. Plac Pari. 623. THE REACTION. 585 world* to come, is to us, not in the place of man, but in the place of God ; that, in consequence, the guilt of those who question his decisions is the guilt of rebel lion and sacrilege; that to bring the heresies and mischiefs which have been so long tolerated in the land to an end, it is expedient to determine that no man shaU in future attempt to preach without the licence of his ordinary; that preaching shall be re stricted in aU cases to the simple matters prescribed in the instruction provided in aid of the ignorance of priests, and beginning ignorantia sacerdotum ; that any clergyman offending against this rule shall forfeit his temporahties, and be liable to the penalty awarded in the recent statute against heresy ; that any church into which a teacher of this description is admitted shaU be laid under an interdict ; that no schoolmaster shaU mix rehgious instruction with the teaching of youth, nor permit discussion about the sacraments, nor any reading of the Scriptures in English ; that all books of the kind written by John Wycliffe, and others of his time, or hereafter to be written, be banished from . schools, halls, and all places whatsoever ; that no man shall hereafter translate any part of scripture into Enghsh on his own authority ; and that all per sons convicted of making or using such translations shall be punished as favourers of error and heresy ; that no man shaU be aUowed to dispute concerning the decrees of the church, whether given in her general or provincial councds, nor to take exception to autho rized customs, such as making pilgrimage to shrines, adoring images, or the cross, on pain of being accounted heretical ; that aU possible means be used to root out the heresies known under the ' new and damnable name of LoUardy,' as everywhere, so especiaUy in the University of Oxford, once so famous for its ortho doxy, but of late so poisoned with false doctrines ; and, finaUy, inasmuch as the sin of heresy is more enormous than treason, since it is resistance to the authority of Heaven as present in the church, aU persons suspected BOOK v. Chap. i. 586 LANCASTER AND TORK. book v. of this offence, and refusing to appear before the pfoper Chap. i. authorities when cited, shall be adjudged guilty. Honest John Foxe, in making note of these ' consti tutions,' adds, ' Who would have thought, by these ' laws and constitutions, so substantially founded, so. ' circumspectly provided, so diligently executed, but ' that the name and memory of this persecuted sect ' should have been utterly rooted up, and never should ' have stood ! And yet such be the works of the ' Lord, passing all man's admiration, notwithstanding ' all this, so far was it off that the number and courage ' of these good men were indeed vanquished, that they ' rather multiplied daily, especially in London, and Lin- '¦ colnshire, Norfolk, Herefordshire, in Shrewsbury, in ' Calais, and divers other places.'f Care, it will be seen, was taken, to remind the parties concerned, ofthe existence ofthe 'late statute' against heresy ; and that the terrors of that statute might not slumber, the object of these ' constitutions' appears to have been, to give as wide a latitude, and, at the same time, as deep an enormity, as possible, to the crime of heresy. From this time forth, the slight est sign of disaffection towards received opinions or customs might be construed as warranting suspicion of heretical pravity; while that pravity itself was declared to be a more deadly sin than treason — the sin for which men were hung, drawn, and quartered being treason only against man, whUe heresy was. treason against God. Lord cob- During the ascendency of the House of Lancaster, many Englishmen perished, under the charge of heresy. Of these, the most conspicuous was Lord ham. * Labbe, Concilia, vii. 1935— 1948. The licence thus given to the- clergy did not prevent tbe commons from passing a rigorous law against the old evil of provisors, first-fruits, Sua. — Stat. 6 Henry IV. In the following year laws still- more stringent were passed, 'forbidding the dis posal of livings by provisors, either on the part of the court of Rome, or of the crown. — 7 Henry IV. e. 6, 8. Collier, i. 620-627. f Acts and Mon. i. 986, 987. THE REACTION. 587 Cobham ; a man, says Horace Walpole, ' whose virtue book v. ' made him a Mormer, and whose courage made him Chap" '• * a martyr.' The fate of Cobham is the great blot in the reign of Henry V. It is true, Lord Cobham was known as a disciple of Wycliffe, and as a zealous patron of the class of persons known as Wycliffites. But his disaffection embraced neither disloyalty nor impiety. It had respect to alleged errors and cor ruptions, which were said to be rooted in the existing church system; and his honest aim was to remove these disfigurements, through the influence of a more enlightened public opinion. But Henry V. was a skilful and brave soldier, and nothing more. His slight attachment to hterature had respect to it only in its relation to chivalry. He cared nothing about popular hberty — did not understand it. With him, it was as much a matter of course that a man should obey his priest, as that a soldier should do the bidding of his officer. Such submission Cobham was not pre pared to render, and as he could not cease to be honest, he was not permitted to live.* Archbishop Chicheley, who succeeded Arundel, sur- Persecu- passed him in zeal against the reformers. He ordered cSsiey?' special inquisition to be made through every diocese in his province twice a year, that no persons suspected of heresy might anywhere escape detection. In any parish which had faUen under suspicion, three respectable inhabitants might be selected, and made to answer the inquiries of official persons on oath, touching any per sons qr circumstances of their neighbourhood. Of the multitudes who were apprehended by such means, some recanted; others withstood much inquisitorial scrutiny, and remained long in prison ; while others saw their whole property confiscated. During the reigns of Henry V. and VI. , scarcely a year passed in which men might not be seen perish- * The case of Lord Cobham is dispassionately considered by Sharon Turner, ii. 431-454-; and by Dean Milman, v. 529, 531-534- 588 LANCASTER' AND YORK. book v. ing at the stake as heretics, either in Smithfield or on JJjfJ' Tower HiU. In the registry of the diocese of Lincoln, some time later, more than five hundred names are found as those of persons against whom proceedings had been taken on the charge or suspicion of heresy.* We know not that even these were all the names so registered ; but the history of Lincoln in this respect may be taken as an indication of the course of pro ceeding over the whole kingdom. In the earlier part of this century, the law provided that the property of a heretic should be divided into three parts, the first of which fell to the king, the second to the city in which the conviction occurred, the third to the judge ! Subsequently, the property confiscated went wholly to the crown, f Effeetofthe It requires some effort of imagination to estimate to the fuU the suffering, which must have been dif fused through the homes of the people of England by this network of agencies. The more so, inasmuch as it Was scarcely possible that the sincere reformer. should guard against betraying his feeling continually. The profligate would take note of his seriousness. Even that would be enough to warrant suspicion. The superstitious would observe what he did, or ab stained from doing, in regard to the religious observ ances of the times ; and from such appearances would form their conclusions, and indulge in their dangerous talk. Not to worship as others did, or not to worship at all, was alike perilous. To be in any respect sin gular was to be suspected. There were probably enemies to the hierarchy who could reconcile them selves to a life of false appearances, on the plea that the foe with whom they had to deal was base and trea cherous, and as such had no claim to be dealt with otherwise. Such men might long escape detection, and the number of such was probably considerable. * Walsingham. Poxe, Acts and Mon. ii. 33. Collier, i. 632, 634, 643. + Poxe, Lyndewoode, and Wilkins (vol. iii.), furnish large evidence on this subject. THE REACTION. 589 But the conscientious Lollard could hardly exist book v. without being known as such, and must have felt that CHAP' '" his property, and liberty, and life, were constantly at the mercy of any malevolent or misguided, informer in his neighbourhood. So did the clergy perpetuate and augment the disaffection of the people. The best and the boldest were almost everywhere arrayed against them. But it must not be supposed that the aims of the Excesses of discontented were always restricted to safe and rea- former's. sonable hmits. The want of a little more worldly wisdom did much, and the persecutions which followed them did more, to dispose the passions of some of the sufferers towards the most reprehensible maxims and proceedings. The conduct of the disaffected was at times such as no government could be expected to tole rate. In an outbreak at Abingdon, for example, in the reign of Henry VL, in which the monastery of that place was assailed, and the clergy greatly menaced, the leader of the multitude is said to have declared that he would make priests' heads as common as sheep's heads. His own head was exposed on London-bridge.* But the fault of the government and of the clergy, Thisnosuf- was in refusing to distinguish between the conscientious cusenforthe and the merely turbulent — or between the reasonable olersy- and unreasonable in the complaints of the better sort* Opinions described as hostile, not only to church authority, but to all social order, were exaggerated, and attributed in their exaggerated form to the most moderate reformers, in common with the most violent, But, had the mode of attack been more discriminating, there is no reason to suppose that the result would have been greatly different. As commonly happens in such cases, it was found, that to ask for little, was to be charged with magnifying trifles, and with fostering discontent without reason; whde to ask for much, was to be. denounced as impious and disloyal. The * Hall, 166. Pabyan, 422. Stowe, 372. 590 LANCASTER AND TORK. bookv. foregone conclusion, in either case, was a conclusion Chap. i. • j. r ., against change. In the first parliament under Henry V., the com mons renewed their complaints against the wealth, and the exceptionable lives, of the clergy. But Chicheley, who had then become primate, took alarm, and spared no pains to divert the attention of the king and the nation from such dangerous questions to the glory of a war with France. With a less chivalrous king this policy might not have been avading. But with Henry V. it was successful, and, for a whUe, our history was much influenced by that success. oxford" " ^n 14AI. the University of Oxford chose twelve of its members to examine the writings of Wycliffe, and the report made, presented two hundred and sixty- seven opinions, taken from those writings, which were described as ' worthy of fire.' Besides the opinions, said these worthy 'masters,' which merit extreme condemnation, there are many more of like quality ; and they assure the primate, that the disciples of the man who had fiUed the university with such doctrine, were so many throughout the province of Canterbury, that only by the sharpest process would it be possible to cleanse the field of the church from such tares. Such was Oxford — so changed from her former self — in 1441 ; and such continued to be her state to the close of the fifteenth century. In all this, moreover, she was what the ecclesiastical power of that time had made her ; for the clerical influence, which had been kept in some check during the last century, had now become exclusive and dominant in aU her affairs.* * Wood's Hist, et Antiq. Univers. Oxon. i. 216, 217. Such was the ignorance of many of these ecclesiastical persons, that the English convo cation, in 1432, passed a canon which required that no man should be made a bishop or a vicar-general who had not taken a degree. — Ducke's Chicheley, 40. Six years later, the University of Oxford laments over the general unfitness of the clergy for the discharge of their duties, and urges that no man should be appointed to a benefice of any description who had not graduated. — Ibid. 45. Puller, ii. 409-412. THE REACTION. 591 Such, from various causes, was the revived in- book v. fluence of the English clergy at this time, that the CHAP' '• luxury, pomp, and pretension of the order had never been greater in our history. Not a dogma, not a usage, that had been censured in the outspoken times of Edward III. or of Bichard IL, was surrendered, or in any degree softened. On the contrary, so great was the rebound in ecclesiastical affairs, that the excesses of the past were all more or less exaggerated. The Franciscan learnt to change his undergarment of hair cloth for one of the softest hnen ; his waistcord of rope for one of sdk ; and his barefooted travel for the use of sandals, carefuUy wrought and richly adorned by devout nuns, who found agreeable employment in such works of piety. The Dominicans innovated after the same manner on the institute of their founder. At the same time, the houses and churches of these orders rose to the splendour of palaces. To the hostile cri ticism sometimes provoked by such appearances, it was deemed enough .to answer that the pope had not taken exception to them ; and that to the Holy See, and not to themselves, pertained the wealth deemed so inconsistent with their professed renunciation of all ecclesiastical endowments.* But if such was the course of the rehgious orders, it is natural to suppose that such tendencies were stiU more conspicuous in the hves of the secular clergy. And such was the fact. The palaee of the archbishop of Tork, brother to the great earl of Warwick, in the time of Edward IV., was more Oriental than European in its gorgeousness, and its endless adaptations to the luxurious taste of its owner, f Much was sometimes said in parhament, and even at court, concerning such ostentation and indul gence, as unbecoming in spiritual persons. But the passions fed by such means were not to be controlled. One of the hardships imposed on the higher clergy in *¦ Turner, Hist. Eng. iii. 128, 129. t See Puller's account of an enormous feast given by this prelate.— Church Hist. ix. 477. 592 LANCASTER AND TORK. the time of Henry V. was, that they should not travel with gdt bridles, nor with more than twenty horses in their train. Such restrictions must have been deemed expedient, if not necessary, or the scandal of publish ing them would never have been incurred.* But if an archbishop of York under Edward IV. was so weU known for the princely splendour of his establishment, one of his predecessors, who died on tbe accession of Henry VL, was no less notorious for the licentiousness -of his life, even to his old age, his con tempt of the divine precepts being compensated by his zeal against heretics. Our great dramatist, too, follow ing old histories, has described the death-scene of car dinal Beaufort, bishop of Winchester, in that same reign — how the visions of power, which ended in weak ness, and of wealth, which passed away as a shadow, haunted his last hours.f With such lives in the governing, it is easy to imagine the manners which obtained among the governed. In a petition presented to parhament by the clergy * Wilkins, ii. 413. t ' This man,' says the Chronicler, ' was son to John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, descended of an honourable lineage, but more noble in blood than notable in learning, high in stomach, and huge in countenance, rich above the measure of all men, and to few liberal, disdainful of his kin dred, and dreadful to his lovers, preferring money before friendship, many things beginning and nothing performing. His insatiable covetousness, and hope of long Ufe, made him both to forget God, his prince, and him self,- in his latter days; for his doctor, John Baker, his privy councillor and his chaplain, wrote, that he, lying on his bed, said these words : ' Why should I die, having so much riches ? If the whole realm would save my life, I am able either by policy to get it, or by riches to buy it. Pie ! will not death be hired P ' Will money do nothing ? When my nephew of Bedford died I thought myself half up the wheel. But when my other nephew of Gloucester deceased, then I thought myself able to be equal with kings — and so thought to increase my treasure in hope to have worn a triple crown. But I see now the world faileth me ; and so am I deceived, praying you all to pray for me.' ' — Hall, 210, 211. Such was the cha racter of this man, that he was charged 'with having hired an assassin to murder Henry V., when prince Henry, and with having urged the prince to depose his father Henry IV. in his lifetime. — Hollinshed, 591. Ducke's Chicheley. THE REACTION. 593 in 1449, it is stated that many of their order, both re- book v. ligious and secular, had been indicted for felony, and Chap' '• the petitioners do not blush to pray that no priest charged with rape or felony at anytime before the ist of June next, should be accounted guilty, on condition that a noble be paid for each priest in the kingdom to the king's exchequer. The answer of the king was, let the nobles be voted by the convocations of York and Canterbury, and let it so be. The convocations voted that the sum should be paid, and the enactment pending on that payment became a statute of the realm.* We are scarcely surprised, accordingly, that an archbishop in the year 1455 should be found describ ing certain rectors and vicars as having become openly vagrant and dissolute, wandering through the kingdom in search of gain, neglecting their spiritual duties, wasting their revenues, aUowing their houses, and even their churches, to faU into decay, giving themselves to feasting, drunkenness, fornication, and other vices, being often, not only unskdled in the work of teaching, but so ignorant as to be incapable of such service, f Some ten years later, the arch bishop of York lays open a simdar state of things as existing in his province, and enjoins that no clergy man should be present at forbidden sports and plays, should frequent taverns, or be seen in the company of lewd women. J To expect great purity of manners in an opulent establishment in such times would be un reasonable. But the facts, and the language, we have adduced, suggest that the corruption in those days must have been deep and general, much' beyond the ordinary in such cases. That there were churchmen who condemned these evils, may be accepted as evidence that the sense of propriety was not wholly extinct in that quarter. * Rolls Pari. v. 153- Statutes, i. 352. f Wilkins, Con. iii. 373 > 374- * Ibl