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THE ROYAL FAMILIES OF ENGLAND

Henry the Third

HENRY of Winchester, as the young prince was called, at the time of the king’s death, was only ten years old. Fortunately for his future prospects, he had on his side the powerful protection of the holy see, and might hope that his youth and innocence of all offence would plead for him with many of those, who upon sufficient grounds, had been decided enemies to his father.

He was now crowned in the cathedral of Gloucester, by the legate, Gualo, assisted by the bishops of Winchester, Exeter, and Bath, when he took the customary oath of English kings on such occasions, and swore fealty to Pope Honorius. The next day, his advisers issued, in his name, a proclamation of indemnity for all past offences committed against the throne, requiring, at the same time, that the crown-tenants should do homage to their rightful monarch, and that none should appear in public for the next month without a white fillet round the head, as a sign by which they acknowledged, the recent coronation. A measure of scarcely less importance was the nomination of the Earl of Pembroke to the care of the royal person, and the general management of affairs, under the title of guardian to the kingdom, an office, which he discharged with equal talent and fidelity.

This was followed by a meeting at Bristol of all the bishops and abbots, for the king’s cause, now that of the Pope, and by many earls, barons, and knights, who had either remained faithful to, or had lately seceded from the French banners, In this assembly the great charter was revised, and to reconcile the young king’s rights with those of his subjects, some improvements were introduced, and many clauses were suspended ‘till a fuller meeting of peers could be had to deliberate and decide upon them. This, if it did not at once grant all that had been demanded of John, yet conceded much, and what still more tended to the general satisfaction, was the fact of the omitted points being left open for future discussion.

By such salutary proceedings the cause of Henry gained more and more strength, while that of Louis was gradually losing ground with his English adherents, by the preference he showed at their expense to his countrymen. Both Gualo and the Earl of Pembroke, were men who knew how to take ad vantage of this change of feeling amongst the nobles; the dark tales already in circulation to the injury of Louis, were yet more widely disseminated, till people scarcely knew what to believe, and the effect of these rumours, whether true or false, was heightened and confirmed by the weekly excommunication which the legate fulminated against himself and his abettors. Nor was the Pope wanting on his part; he was not only constantly stimulating the zeal of Gualo, in behalf of his protege, but endeavoured by his letters to re-kindle the dormant feelings of loyalty in the breast of the disaffected. So powerful a mediator could hardly plead in vain. Many of the recusant knights returned to their duty, the Earl of Salisbury being among the first of the nobles, to swear fealty to his monarch. Even William D'Albini joined the royal cause, when he had paid his fine of a thousand marks and recovered thereby his freedom.

Notwithstanding these favourable appearances, it would seem that Henry stood more in need of breathing-time than his rival, for we find at this juncture, Pembroke surrendering two of the royal castles to Louis, as the price of a truce till Easter. Both parties employed the short interval thus gained, in preparing for war, which at the end of the armistice, did not fail to be renewed with encreased animosity, and the whole nation was again wrapt in misery, not with the slightest hope of any advantage to itself, but to settle who should be its master, Henry of Winchester, or Louis of France.

At first fortune seemed inclined to favour the confederates, whose route was marked by excesses of all kinds, a species of warfare in which the foreign mercenaries particularly distinguished themselves.

The royalists retreated before them, when, instead of pursuing his flying enemy, Louis laid siege to Lincoln castle, then defended by Nichola de Camville, a celebrated heroine, whose conduct on this occasion showed her not unworthy of her reputation. Her defence gave Pembroke time to summon the tenants of the crown to Newark, and he soon found himself at the head of a large body of infantry, four hundred knights with their esquires, and two hundred and fifty cross-bowmen. On his part the legate inflamed the zeal of the troops by giving to the war a religious character; he excommunicated their opponents, exhorted them to fight bravely in the cause of Heaven, and conferred upon them all the usual rights and privileges of crusaders, upon an expedition against the Saracens.

A battle ensued within the walls of Lincoln, the royalists having been admitted by their friends at a postern, when a sally was made from the castle, and the rest of their forces burst open the north gate. The route of the French party, was complete, though little blood was shed by the conquerors, who spared the knights and barons in the hope of’ ransom, while they slaughtered the poorer soldiers without mercy.

The few that escaped from the conflict, were put to death in their flight by the exasperated inhabitants, in revenge for the cruelties which had been practised upon them.

This victory placed the crown upon the young king’s head, and would have been honourable to the victors, had they not disgraced it by their excesses. When all resistance had ceased, the city of Lincoln was given up to pillage, the excuse for this atrocity being the attachment always shown by it towards the cause of the barons. Although fighting in the name of religion, the royalists did not spare the churches, while the women, who had fled for refuge to the boats on the river, were the greater part of them drowned either by the sinking of’ the overcrowded boats, or by mismanagement.

Louis, who for better safety had shut himself up within the walls of London, had now no hope but in the aid he might receive from France through the exertions of his consort, Blanche of Castile. By her persevering activity, a fleet was at length collected of eighty large ships, besides galleys and smaller barks, the numerical strength of which was rendered yet more formidable, by its being placed under the command of Eustace le Moine, a celebrated pirate.

On the English side, the justiciary Hubert de Burgh, could only oppose forty-five sail collected with difficulty from the Cinque Ports-a disparity of force so alarming that many of the knights refused embarking under pretence of their inexperience in naval warfare Hubert himself, who seems to have been a bold as well as able leader, was fully sensible of his peril, and received the sacrament in private, after having given strict orders that Dover castle should on no account be surrendered, even though he should be taken prisoner, and his life should be made contingent on its yielding. But the event of the combat like that of so many others, defeated the best calculations of human reason, showing that the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.

The English passed the French fleet as if Calais were - their object, and then suddenly tacking bore down in a line upon its rear, when the engagement was begun by the archers and cross bowmen But this did not last long. According to their usual tactics both by land and sea, in ancient as well as in modern times, the English hastened to come to close quarters as soon as possible; having fastened their ships to those of the enemy with chains and hooks, they flung quicklime into the air which the wind carried into the faces of the French, and in the confusion thus produced, they boarded the opposite vessels axe in hand, and by cutting the rigging rendered them unmanageable. Confounded by so novel a mode of assault, the French made but a feeble resistance; of their whole fleet, fifteen ships alone escaped; more than a hundred knights with their squires were made prisoners, and scarcely less than eight hundred officers of inferior note shared the same fate; Le Moine himself, who had sought to escape by hiding in the hold of his vessel, was dragged forth, and his head stricken off, the large sum he offered for ransom being scornfully refused by his captor, Richard Fitzroy, a natural son of the late king John.

The loss of this battle was fatal to the hopes of Louis. It left him no choice but to compound for his personal safety, and he was fortunate enough in the negotiations that followed, to obtain terms, such as might have been the price of a great victory. The prisoners were liberated on both sides; an amnesty was granted to his English adherents; and he himself with his own followers, was allowed to return to France, upon the simple condition that he would abandon all claims to a crown which he was no longer in a position to contest, and that when he came to the French throne, he would restore to Henry the continental possessions of his father. Even this last stipulation does not appear in the treaty, and its existence can only be inferred from the repeated references of Flenry in after times, to such a con tract.

However favourable this treaty may have been to the French prince, at a time when he was so completely in the power of his opponents, it was yet desirable to England, since it afforded her a respite from the evils of civil warfare. Gualo and Pembroke, both of whom discharged their trusts with equal zeal and sagacity, were enabled by it to give their undivided attention to the internal affairs of the kingdom. The charter was improved and confirmed, some additional clauses in favour of the subject being added, and many of the most crying abuses either entirely removed or much mitigated. Still the late conflicts had engendered habits as well as animosities not very favourable to the wholesome restraints of law, and it was only by a judicious exercise of severity tempered by prudence that the government at length succeeded in bringing about a better state of things.

In the autumn Gualo returned to Italy, and his departure was yet more sensibly felt when it was followed by the death of the Earl of Pembroke. The legate was then succeeded by Pandulf; the exercise of the royal authority was committed to Hubert de Burgh, the justiciary; and the care of the king’s person was entrusted to Peter des Roches, the bishop of Winchester. The choice of the two last was unhappy, for they were rivals, and it required all the prudence of Pandulf, aided by his spiritual authority, to check their feuds and prevent the kingdom being damaged by the want of harmony between its rulers. But the zeal of the new legate was fully equal to his ability. He repressed the jealous disputes of his assistants in the government, negotiated a peace with the king of Scots at York, obtained a prolongation of the truce between France and England, and, doubts having been raised about the king’s prior coronation at Bath, he caused the ceremony to be again performed by the archbishop, who with the permission of Honorius had come back to England. The next year Pandulf returned to Rome.

The feud between Hubert and des Roches ended at length in the former obtaining a decided superiority over his rival, who in consequence banished himself from the country, under pretence of a pilgrimage to Palestine.

The grants made so improvidently by the two preceding monarchs had diminished the resources of the crown, and in the same proportion increased the power of the barons to contend with it. The king’s necessities were pressing; he assembled a great council to demand aid, which was at first sternly refused, and at last conceded only upon his promise to ratify the two charters. Twice already since the beginning of his reign had they been confirmed, but without being carried into practice, and they were now renewed in the form which they have ever since retained. Upon the king’s solemnly pledging himself to this, he obtained a grant of a fifteenth upon all moveables.

By the flight of Des Roches, the justiciary was left without a rival, and for several years he continued increasing in wealth and honours, while others, who did not bask in the sunshine of royal favour, found themselves impoverished by being compelled to disgorge the profits they made during the minority. This did not fail to create him enemies; an unsuccessful campaign in France shook his favour with the monarch, and the return of the bishop of Winchester from his voluntary exile, combining with other untoward events, made all men prophecy his speedy downfall. The increasing pecuniary difficulties of the crown realised these prognostications sooner perhaps than would have been the case otherwise. In his distress, it was hinted to the king that money might easily be extorted from De Burgh and his relatives, who had so long been fattening on the public revenues. The advice was accepted; he was called upon to account for all the monies that had passed through his hands, in virtue of his office, from the time of his becoming grand justiciary, a period which went back to an early part of the preceding reign. Unable to meet so sweeping an investigation, he fled to Merton priory, from which the king at first resolved to force him, but was persuaded by the archbishop of Dublin to grant him a respite of five months, that he might prepare for his trial. His prudence, however, or his guilt, made him, when the time came, rather throw himself upon the king’s mercy than attempt any defence ; and the judges, agreeing that if they pronounced sentence at all it must be one of forfeiture and death, with the consent of the prosecutors, recommended him to the royal consideration. This was probably well understood before hand by all parties. By the king’s favour, his patrimonial inheritance, and the lands he held of mesne lords were reserved to him, but the rest of his possessions were declared forfeit to the crown, and he was to remain a prisoner in the castle of Devizes till he either, in the event of his wife’s death, should enter the order of Templars, or should be set at liberty by the king and his great council. It was plain, however, that Henry did not willingly consent to these measures of severity against his old favourite, for when a better feeling was afterwards established for a short time between the king and the barons, Hubert was readmitted into the council, as well as restored to all his estates and honours.

It is a peculiar feature in this reign, that though it was unusually long—Henry reigned more than half a century—and though it abounded in events, yet they are such as are incapable of being connected into one great historical whole. In fact, it may be likened to some new and important river, that suddenly splits into three or four large branches, each of which requires to be separately followed and separately recorded. For the sake therefore of greater precision and clearness, we shall trace up the three leading currents of this reign, each in its turn, discussing first the king’s foreign wars, next his transactions with the see of Rome, and lastly his feuds with the barons, who were struggling against the despotism of royalty only to vest the same powers in themselves if they were able to wrest them from the monarch. Whichever gained the day, it was alike to the people; they were sure to suffer equally during the strife, and to be equally loaded with taxes and oppression when it was ended.

During this long reign many disputes took place with Scot land, though they never came to the arbitrernent of arms, the marriage of’ the Scottish king with Jane, the sister of’ Henry, tending to prevent extremities. But Alexander was not the less inclined to prosecute his just claims, or what he chose to consider as such. Upon Henry's coming of age to act for himself, he demanded of him the three northern counties as his indisputable inheritance, and also repayment of fifteen thousand marks, which had been paid to John ; these lie asserted had not been an imposed fine, but a dowry advanced on behalf of the two Scottish princesses, the intended brides of Henry himself and his brother Richard. The first of these was a most bare-faced imposition, whatever might be thought of the latter claim. Henry resisted both. He maintained that the homage done by Alexander both to himself and father was for the Scottish crown, and prevailed on Pope Gregory the Ninth, who then wore the tiara, to write to his recusant vassal, exhorting him to obedience. By the mediation of Cardinal Otho, a compromise was effected Alexander consented to renounce all his claims, receiving in place of them grants of land in Tynedale and at Penrith with a yearly rental of’ two hundred pounds. For this lie was to do homage, but the question of the former homage was left open, and on the death of .Jane it was revived, when Alexander refused it as flatly as he had ever done. Upon this Henry assembled a large army at Newcastle, and his opponent thought it wiser to negotiate than to encounter the doubtful chances of war. The result was highly favourable to the English king, who gained the substance of Ins demands, while he seemed to be conceding them.

His death, and the succession of his son Alexander, then only nine years old, led to fresh disputes. Henry applied to the Pope upon event requesting a bull prohibitory of’ any one crowning the prince without his consent, on the plea that lie was his liege lord. But this request was refused by Pope Innocent the Fourth, as contrary to the usual practice of the Papal see. Soon after the young king came to York, for the purpose of marrying Henry’s daughter, Margaret, when the question of the homage was renewed; but, by the advice of his councillors, he eluded it, declaring that he had come there solely for the purpose of being wedded, and that upon so important a demand lie must take the opinion of his barons, when he returned to Scotland. Previously to this, however, he had done homage to Henry “for Lothian and the other lands which he held of the English monarch.” Any farther concession, it is probable, would have raised all Scotland against himself. As it was, a large party had been formed for the express purpose of dissolving the existing connection between the two countries, and Robert de Ros, and John Baliol were named regents. Proceeding with a. high hand, they placed both the king and queen under confinement, having separated them from each other; but the Earl of Gloucester and Robert Mansel obtained admission into Edinburgh castle, and set them both at liberty, when Flenry, asserting all the rights of a feudal superior, elected a new regency, and punished the delinquents.

We must now turn to Wales. At this time it was ruled by Llewelyn, who was a brother-in-law to Henry, and a vassal of the English crown, but in neither capacity disposed to any thing that implied submission. The ferocious habits of the borderers of both nations led to constant broils, when no other cause of strife was at hand, and perhaps it was not often easy to say which party had been the aggressor. Plunder would appear to have been but a secondary object with these barbarians, for on too many occasions they murdered their captives in cold blood, and instead of carrying off the cattle they had taken, drove the animals into barns or other buildings, and burnt the whole together. Many attempts were made by Henry, to repress these cruelties by attacking the marauders, in their own Homes, but as often as he led his army into Wales, he was sure to re turn baffled, though not defeated. Llewelyn, too politic to meet his antagonist in the open field, on all such occasions invariably retreated to the fastnesses of his native mountains, whence Henry wanted the skill to dislodge him ; or if the English king, finding himself thus foiled, began to erect new fortresses to hold the enemy in check, Llewelyn was already in his rear, destroying two or three castles for the one his adversary was building. Simple as these tactics may seem in the present day, it is evident that the Welsh leader far surpassed Henry and his barons, in military science, for upon his death the whole face of things was altered, his skill seeming to have died with him. David, his son and successor, in vain endeavoured to shake off the English yoke, and failing of other means he followed the example of John, and offered to hold his crown of the Roman see. Innocent refused ; and Henry once more attempted the thorough subjugation of his contumacious vassal, although he was his nephew. He fortified a castle on the banks of the Con way, ravaged Anglesey by means of a fleet he had brought round from Ireland, and cut off all communication between the Welsh men and the marches, the latter being forbidden under heavy penalties to introduce either goods or provisions into their territory. The natives were thus shut up among the mountains of Merioneth and Caernarvon, where they suffered alike from the want of food, and the severity of winter. At this juncture, David died. The people elected for their chieftains, Llewelyn ap David, the son of the late Griffith, a natural brother of King Henry, and they at once put an end to this destructive warfare, by submitting to become vassals of the English monarch, with a promise to serve in his wars with five hundred of their people.

France next demands our attention, in connection with English history. And here, in the first place, it is necessary to revert to the promise made by Louis, as the price of his liberty, when besieged in London, that he would restore Normandy, Maine, and Anjou, upon the death of his father. This event happened in 1223, and the English ministry called upon the new French king to fulfil his promise. Instead of complying, he revived the sentence of forfeiture that had long before been pronounced against John, and entering Poictou with a numerous army, he pushed his conquests to the right hank of the Garonne, employing bribery even with more success than arms. By the mediation of’ the papal legate a truce was effected for a twelvemonth, during which time the French king died, and was succeeded by his son Louis the Eleventh, a boy of twelve years old. His minority was, as is usual, the signal for anarchy and intestine confusion, and Henry was anxious to have availed himself’ of this state of things for the recovery of’ his lost rights, but was constantly prevented from leaving England, by the advice of Hubert on account of the dissensions between himself and his barons, The armistice had in consequence been renewed from year to year, till at last Hubert yielded to the national clamour to all outward appearance. The king, the princes of Wales, the barons of Ireland, and all the flower of the English nobility assembled at Portsmouth, with the purpose of sailing for Bretagne, which was then in open rebellion against its sovereign ; but, when the time came to embark, it was found that the shipping was not enough to carry more than half the army. Indignant at this neglect, Henry called De Burgh a. traitor, and would have struck him, had not the timely interference of’ the Earl of Chester staved his hand, and prevented the blow. It being late in the season, the expedition was by the advice of the council deferred till the next year, during which interval Hubert found the means of again ingratiating himself with his easy and attached sovereign. It may even be doubted whether Henry was in truth so violently bent upon this expedition as he afflicted to be ; his subsequent conduct would certainly lead to a contrary conclusion; for when on the arrival of spring, he landed in France with a gallant host, instead of meeting his enemy in the field, he spent his time in pleasure, and having received the homage of his Gascon subjects, returned to England with a broken reputation. The poets of Provence, whose satirical vein was as inexhaustible as their amatory, gave him a disgraceful immortality in their songs, and his name was bandied about from hall to cottage as a coward, who dared not fight for the inheritance of his fathers. It is possible however, that all this may not be true; gold is at least as essential to war, as steel itself, and in the former metal he was deficient beyond any of his predecessors. Something, too, may be attributed to no very unreasonable fears and jealousies on his part in regard to his turbulent and discontented barons; while he was fighting for a few provinces in France, he was likely enough to lose by their rebellion the crown of England.

For the next ten years, truces often broken and as often renewed, supplied the place of a lasting peace, neither party being willing to abate any thing of their claims, and allowed that respite which was equally essential to both of them. But the records of these petty wars, have little in them to interest the reader. They ended at last in a five years’ truce, the result more to all appearance of mutual necessity than of any want of inclination to prolong hostilities.

We have next to consider the relations between England and Rome, one of the most important pages of our history, though it is sure more than any other to be disfigured by party zeal and prejudices. We have seen the time when the Roman Pontiff, made common cause, sometimes against the king, and sometimes against the barons. A hierarchy had prevailed in the Christian Church from very early ages, and as feudalism spread among the western nations, much of its form and substance was gradually introduced into the clerical order, the Pope holding the place of sovereign, the bishops not unaptly representing barons, while the inferior ranks of the clergy might be considered as sub-vassals holding immediately of the bishops. This likeness was real as well as nominal. In the same way that the king demanded pecuniary aid of his barons, and through them from their vassals, did the popes levy contributions upon the bishops, and through them upon the inferior clergy. So long as the demands of Rome were confined within reasonable limits, the English clergy complied without a murmur, it being manifestly their interest to uphold the authority of him, whose influence was so essential to them in all their disputes, whether with the king or with his nobles. But the case was altogether changed, when the Popes, by the gradual acquisition of temporal power, had involved themselves in expenses beyond their annual in come, and could hope for relief only by encreased demands upon the benevolence of their clergy. The latter protested strongly against such serious inroads upon their purses, for the maintenance of the Pontiff’s civil or domestic wars, which were clearly temporal matters in which they had no interest, though they did not refuse contributing to advance the dignity and splendour of the tiara. Prudence might have induced Innocent to listen to these remonstrances, had he been in a condition to do so, but he was now an exile at Lyons, without any funds except those derived from his clergy.

Henry and the barons for a long time beheld these disputes with indifference, and perhaps even rejoiced at them, as the surest means of weakening those who had hitherto been always united against themselves, alternately setting their feet on the necks of kings and nobles. At length it seems to have occurred to them that this impoverishment of the ecclesiastics would fling more and more of the national burthens upon the laity of all classes. Roused to action by so obvious an inference, they despatched messengers to the general council at Lyons, with remonstrances against these perpetual demands upon the clergy. To allay this storm, Innocent promised more forbearance for the future, and, it may be, was sincere at the time; if, however, he were so, his necessities soon compelled him to fresh exactions. Exasperated by this, the clergy adopted a measure of all others the most offensive to the holy see, inasmuch as it tended to call in question the Pope’s autocracy, and put a limit to his powers; they appealed from him to a general council, and sent him a list of their grievances, while the barons supported the clergy, and more than hinted their willingness to draw the sword if it should be necessary. The king, too, threw his weight into the same scale, forbidding the tallage to be paid, under pain of his high displeasure. But from some cause, which it is now impossible to trace, the energy of all the recusant parties relaxed after a time without having produced any visible results, and the ecclesiastics were glad to compound with the holy see for the sum of eleven thousand marks.

There was yet another ground of dispute between the Pope and the clergy. The former had assumed to himself a right, under the name of papal provisions, of nominating to vacant benefices, the claims of the real patrons being by his act suspended. This arbitrary power was for the most part exercised in favour of Italians, who, instead of residing upon the livings thus obtained, hired substitutes to do their duty, and spent the rest of the incomes in any place but where it had been derived. An abuse so intolerable excited the discontent of all classes, and gave rise to an association called the Commonantly of England, which the barons and clergy did not fail to encourage, though in secret. Their avowed leader was Sir Thomas Thwenge, a York shire knight, who had been deprived of a family nomination. His plans were as ably conceived as they were ruthlessly executed, and must have been favoured by all around, or they never could have been carried out so successfully. His associates are said to have never been more than eighty, yet they murdered the papal couriers, menaced the foreign prelates and their stewards by letter, sometimes made them prisoners and exacted heavy ransoms of them, and at other seized upon the produce of their farms, which they openly sold by public auction, or distributed among the neighbouring poor. For eight months, the legal authorities supinely looked on at these proceedings, a proof not to be mistaken of the state of public feeling, and when at length Henry saw fit to interpose, it could not have been with any very rigid notions, for we find Thwenge allowed to go and plead his cause before the Pontiff. So far from resenting this opposition to his authority, Innocent listened with goodwill to the complainant, and denying all participation in the invasion of the rights of the lay-patrons he granted him a bull, by virtue of which he was authorised to nominate to the living claimed by him. At the same time, by a refinement of policy, intended to divide his opponents, he promised for the future to exact no provisions except where the benefices were in the gifts of ecclesiastics or of ecclesiastical communities, a distinction which the clergy perfectly understood, and as warmly resented. They again succeeded in obtaining the co-operation of the sovereign and his barons by coupling the tallages with the provisions in all their remonstrances, and the controversy thus renewed lasted till such time as the death of the German emperor allowed of Innocent’s return to Rome. This change in his fortunes allowed him to give more ear to the suggestions of prudence and perhaps of justice than he had hitherto been inclined to do, when urged on by his necessities. He yielded so far to the spirited remonstrances of Grosseteste, bishop of Lincoln, that though he would not displace the present illegally-appointed incumbents, yet he allowed the lay-patrons to name at once their successor in the event of death or resignation.

No sooner was this evil in some degree remedied than another cause of complaint arose of no less magnitude. In consequence of the feud between the late emperor, Frederick, and the holy see, that prince was adjudged to have forfeited Sicily and Apulia, which he had held of the Pope as fiefs. His death had left three competitors for the crown—a son by his first wife, named Conrad, king of Germany; another son, Henry, by his second wife, who was the sister of the English king ; and an illegitimate son, called Manfred, prince of’ Otranto. Innocent objected to them all, and successively offered the crown to Charles of Anjou, to Richard, the king of England’s brother, and to Edmund, his second son. But Conrad died—by poison it is supposed—and Henry accepted the offer for his son, Edmund, who was to hold it of the apostolic see. Manfred, however, by a mixture of force anti corruption, had made himself master of the disputed territories, while Henry wasted the precious moments in inactivity, that was partly constitutional with him, and partly resulted from the want of adequate funds to carry on the war. Instead of granting the demanded aid, the barons assailed him with their old or new grievances, and thus abandoned, Henry yielded to the request of Pope Urban, that the Sicilian crown should be transferred to Charles of Anjou, who was now willing to accept it.

In this state Henry was no match for the united clergy and barons, For awhile he opposed craft to superior strength, and made repeated promises only to break them when the object for which he perjured himself had been obtained ; but this system of deception could not go on for ever; his opponents would no longer trust to his promises, however solemnly they might be pledged, and he was obliged finally to comply with their demands.

At the age of twenty-nine, Henry married Eleanor, the daughter of Raymond, count of Provence, which, by the introduction of foreigners into the king’s council and other places of trust or profit, again kindled the flames of discord. He had besides excited the formidable enmity of the clergy, by his acquiescence in the papal exactions, while all parties, lay as well as ecclesiastic, were equally indignant at the debts lie had incurred in the vain attempt to place his son, Edmund, upon the throne of Sicily. The malcontents found an active and efficient leader in the ambitious Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, who though a foreigner, had contrived to ingratiate himself with the natives by his marked opposition to the extortions of Henry and the pontiffs. By the resignation of his brother, Amauri, constable of France, he had succeeded to the estates of Amicia, his mother, and subsequently attained a yet higher rank in the state through his marriage with the king’s sister, Eleanor. Yet he had been placed in high trust by Henry, who by patent made him governor of Guienne for five years, whence he was recalled before the expiration of that time upon repeated charges of cruelty and peculation. High words in consequence ensued between the subject and his sovereign, anti De Montfort fled to France, but after awhile the king was again reconciled to him by the mediation of the bishop of Lincoln.

Such was the turbulent and ambitious foreigner, who had evidently cast his eyes upon the throne of England, and the barons were unconsciously furthering his objects while only in tending to prosecute their own. The confederates, however, were somewhat kept in check by the presence of the king’s brother, Richard, who, though he often joined the barons in opposing him, was yet a scrupulous respecter of the royal rights. He had all the influence that naturally belongs to immense wealth, being as economical as Henry was profuse, and was generally considered to be the richest prince in Europe. This check was now to be removed. Dazzled by the splendour of a throne, though a contested one, he allowed himself to be chosen king of the Romans by the elector palatine and the archbishops of Cologne and Mentz, while a yet stronger party gave their suffrages in favour of Alphonso, king of Castile.

While Richard was thus pursuing the ignis fatuus of a crown, De Montfort and his associates had a fair field open for their cabals. They met Henry in his great council at Westminster, armed to the teeth as men going out to battle rather than to a peaceful parliament, and demanded that the powers of government should be delegated to a committee of prelates and barons, for the purpose of correcting abuses and exacting salutary laws. Henry, either too facile by nature, or too weak to resist, yielded, after a vain struggle, to these demands, though they left him little more than the shadow of royalty. The details of the project were to be finally considered and arranged at a subsequent great council held at Oxford.

The day for this mad meeting, called by subsequent writers the Mad Parliament, at length arrived, when the barons came at tended by their military retainers. All opposition to their views was thus stifled, and the committee of reform was appointed. It consisted of twenty-four persons, twelve of them being barons and prelates selected by the faction, while the other twelve were nominated by Henry; when each twelve then chose two of their opponents, and the four thus selected appointed fifteen members to form the council of state, a mode of proceeding, which had all the appearance of impartiality, but which in fact left the real power in the hands of the faction. The governors of the royal castles, and the chief officers of state, who had owed their elevation to the king’s choice, were removed, and their places supplied by the reformers or their adherents. The triumph of Leicester thus far was complete. He, and his coadjutors, had got the reality, though not the name, of sovereignty into their own hands, and all now depended upon the use they made of it.

Some of their first measures were evidently intended to conciliate, by benefitting, the nation at large, but it was plain at the same time that they meant to retain, if not to augment, the regal power they had got possession of, for they so formed the parliaments as to consist entirely of their own partizans. Those members of the committee, who attempted to thwart their views, were quickly intimidated into silence, and fearing for their liberty, if not for their lives, fled to Wolvesham castle, but being pursued thither by the barons, they all yielded, the four half-brothers of the king availing themselves of the permission granted them to quit the kingdom, while the rest of the dissidents were glad to purchase immunity for the past by promises of obedience for the future. Even the high-spirited Edward, the king’s eldest son, was obliged to follow their example.

In the midst of his triumph Leicester was alarmed by the return of Richard, who, having squandered his hoards abroad, was returning to raise fresh supplies in England. Before however they would allow him to land, they compelled him to take the same oaths as the others, and we might admire the patriotism of the barons, if we could find that they had made any beneficial use of their power. Instead of this they had divided amongst themselves or their adherents all the royal revenue, and all the lay or ecclesiastical vacancies in the gift of the crown. Dissension too arose amongst themselves, The palpable ambition of Leicester alarmed the most of them, feuds ensued between the leaders, and when these were allayed for the time by a seeming reconciliation, they had to meet fresh dangers from without. The knights bachelors of England presented a petition requesting that they would no longer delay with their promised reform, and as this was a remonstrance that could not be safely neglected they were compelled to set about the good work in earnest.

Two years had now elapsed since Henry had been compelled to divest him of all the essentials of regal authority, and he now felt that the feuds amongst his opponents and the growing discontent of the people afforded him a fair opportunity of regaining his lost power. Unexpectedly entering the council he taxed them with breach of trust, and with having attended only to their aggrandizement and not the reformation of the state. Nor did he confine himself to words: without loss of time he seized upon the gold in the mint, retreated to the Tower, which had been lately fortified, made the citizens swear fealty in their respective wardmotes, and issued a proclamation commanding the knights to attend the next parliament in arms. On their part, the barons summoned their retainers, and marched to London, but from mutual diffidence in their own strength, the two factions agreed to await the return of prince Edward. To the surprise of most people he joined the side of the barons.

Henry did not the less persevere in his resolution, till his antagonists were so reduced by repeated desertions that their whole party consisted at length only of the earls of Leicester and Gloucester, the grand justiciary, the bishop of Worcester, and Hugh de Montfort, with their immediate retainers and adherents. Deprived of other sufficient means of defence they had the egregious folly to expect that Henry would abide by his enforced oath, but, as might have been expected, he contended for the nullity of the oath itself, and for yet farther security applied to Pope Alexander for a bull releasing him from his oath. This was granted, and Henry at once entered into the full exercise of all his regal rights, while in answer to the calumnies of his enemies he boldly appealed to the people. Several interviews now took place between the contending parties, which at last terminated in the barons dropping the more extravagant of their demands, while the king granted those which were plainly beneficial to the nation. Leicester alone maintained the outward appearance of discontent, and repaired to France.

In the history of this reign, we seem like the personage in the fairy tale to be perpetually moving in a circle, and never getting on. The same events are for ever recurring, and all the artifices of language, even if it were desirable to employ them, would be unavailing to disguise the fact. Henry took, advantage of the calm that resulted after a time to visit the court of Louis, whereupon Leicester returned, and with much skill reorganised the association that had so lately been broken to pieces. This brought the king back to England, and the old game began again, the barons ravaging the lands of their opponents without mercy, in their march to London, where Henry was in possession of the Tower. Yet the strength of parties in the capital was pretty nearly equal; if the king had the aldermen and principal citizens on his side, Leicester was equally favoured by the populace, and when the queen attempted to follow by water her son, Edward, who had thrown himself into Windsor castle, they flung dirt into the royal barge, and threatened to sink it with large stones if they attempted to pass the bridge. Return might have been no less difficult, had not the . mayor interfered and placed her for safety in the episcopal palace near St. Paul’s.

A negotiation, mediated by the king of the Romans, put a stop to these scenes of violence, but after having lasted three weeks it ended in very unfavourable conditions for Henry. Fortunately for him it had been stipulated the assent of parliament should be obtained before these conditions were to be held fully valid, and there so many objections were raised that after two successive parliaments the disputants could come to no definitive arrangement. The king employed this respite in winning over several of the associates, and, his power daily encreasing, he was once more able to take the field with something like an equality of force. By the interference however of the bishops it was agreed to refer the whole dispute to the arbitrement of Louis, king of France. His decision was in favour of Henry, but the barons refused to abide by it, and civil war was spread from one end of the kingdom to the other, the royalists being the strongest in the north, in Cornwall, and in Devon, while the midland counties, and the Welch marches, were more equally divided; in the capital, in the cinque ports, and the neighbouring districts the party of De Montfort prevailed. To involve the Londoners beyond all hope of retreat the justiciary, Despenser, put himself at their head and caused them to commit all manner of excesses. The two palaces of the king of the Romans at Isleworth and Westminster were destroyed, as well as the houses of all suspected to be friendly to the royalists; the king’s officers of justice were seized and flung into prison ; the moneys of foreign merchants and bankers, deposited for safety in the churches, were carried off to the Tower, and the Jews who had not wealth sufficient to tempt the cupidity of their persecutors in the way of ransom, were abandoned to the rabble, by whom they were put to death under every circumstance of cruelty.

On his part Henry was no indifferent spectator of these tumults. He unfurled the royal banner at Oxford where he was joined by Comyn, Bruce, and Baliol, the lords of the Scotch marches, and opened his campaign by taking Northampton, Leicester, and Nottingham. From this victorious career he was called to Kent by the danger of his nephew, Henry, who was besieged in the castle of Rochester, the city having been taken and pillaged by the assailants. His approach, however, compelled them to retreat.

Leicester now determined to bring the contest to an issue, Marching from London he gave battle to the king, when but for the impetuosity of prince Edward lie would have been utterly defeated. The Londoners, who had rushed headlong upon the prince, were broken in a few minutes; and pursued by him to a distance, when he should have fallen on the rear of the confederates, an error of which Leicester was not slow to take advantage. With the rest of his forces lie fell upon Henry and his brother, cut to pieces a body of Scots who fought on foot, and made prisoners, not only of their leaders, but of’ the English king himself. When Edward returned from his bloody and ill-timed pursuit, he found nothing but a field encumbered with the dying and the dead.

A treaty, known in history as the mise of Lewes, was the con sequence of this battle, which had laid the royal authority prostrate at the feet of Leicester. To retain the power thus acquired was now the grand object with the victor, a task of greater difficulty than the gaining of it had ever been. The Pope and many foreign nations espoused the cause of Henry ; and the enterprizing Eleanor had collected a large fleet and army on the Flemish coast, that waited only for a favourable wind to pass over to Henry’s assistance. But the star of Leicester had not yet declined; the wind for several weeks detained the fleet in the vicinity of Damme, the time, for which the mercenaries had engaged themselves, expiring, they disbanded; and Guido, the cardinal-bishop of Sabina, whom the Pope had sent to take Henry under his protection, was deterred from crossing over to England by a secret hint of a plot against his life. With much difficulty the English clergy were prevailed upon to appear be fore him at Boulogne, and then though they could not refuse to bring back his excommunication of Henry’s enemies, they rendered it useless by suffering it to be taken from them at Dover.

In the winter, after much argument and many sacrifices on the king’s part, a reconciliation was once more brought about between him and his refractory subjects. This treaty placed Leicester, even higher than he was before, but it was from this point that his power began to decline, and with a rapidity that astonished all men. Jealousies arose between him and the powerful Earls of Derby and Gloucester; the first he arrested upon a plea, probable enough, of his holding a correspondence with the royalists; the latter escaped, and unfurled the standard of rebellion to his authority and though a hollow truce was effected between them, a plot was soon formed for the liberation of the prince, who had been detained by Leicester as a hostage for the king’s sincerity. The attempt succeeded; Edward, the most dangerous of his enemies, was again at liberty, and lost no time in taking the field against him. By a display of that military talent, for which the prince was afterwards so famous, Edward gained a series of advantages over his opponent, and at last drove him to seek a refuge in Wales.

Misfortunes now pressed upon Leicester from all sides. His son, Simon of Montfort, narrowly escaped being surprized in Kenilworth by the activity of Edward, and had barely time to take refuge in the castle. On the same day, Leicester, ignorant of what had happened, crossed the Severn, and was marching for Kenilworth in unsuspecting security, on the road to which Edward was waiting for him upon the summit of a hill. At first the royalists, who bore the banners of their captives, were mistaken for the troops of Simon de Montfort, but when the truth was discovered, the Earl’s usual courage would seem to have abandoned him with his good fortune; he is said to have exclaimed, “the Lord have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are Prince Edward’s.” The battle which followed, was fought rather with the rashness of despair than with that calculating courage, which is at all times the surest presage of victory. Henry, who was obliged to appear in the ranks against his son, who yet was all the time fighting his battle, received a slight wound and fell from his horse. Before his adversary could strike the fatal blow, he cried out, “hold, fellow; I am Harry of Winchester,” when the prince, who was fortunately close by, ran up to his rescue. Leicester and his eldest son, Henry de Montfort, were both slain, their appeals for quarter being answered by the cry of “there is no quarter for traitors,” and so complete was the general slaughter, that of his partizans all the knights and barons, except about ten, were found dead upon the field of battle.

The king was thus once more restored to full authority, and he hastened to exercise his powers with little mercy and less discretion. Impoverished, as well as exasperated, by the rigour of his measures, those, who found no relief in submission, fled to the forests, mountains, and morasses, whence they carried on a predatory warfare, which it took Edward nearly two years to subdue. He then compelled the cinque ports to submission, and next turning his arms against the banditti of Surrey, Berkshire, and Hampshire, was equally successful; Kenilworth castle, and the outlaws in the isle of Ely, still continued to hold out; famine subdued the first, and the latter were finally rooted out. The Earl of Gloucester, who aspired to play the same part that Leicester had done, and whom the factious citizens of London had chosen for their leader, was also obliged to yield, and peace being finally restored on all sides, the sovereign had leisure to attend to the civil affairs of his kingdom.

At this juncture, and when the king’s age held out a near prospect of the throne, Edward chose to set out upon an expedition to Palestine. We should now in vain seek for the motives of his conduct; these crusades were the madness of the age, and possibly the strong mind of Edward was infected by the general folly. The result was what it always had been, and always deserved to be, in such cases, when men left their own homes to carry fire and the sword into far off lands under the pretext of religion. He would now have returned, but the winter, which had set in, made the navigation of the Mediterranean a dangerous adventure for the inexperienced seamen of those days, and he retired to Trepani, with the intention of resuming his journey in the spring. In the meanwhile Henry died at Westminster in the sixty-seventh year of his age, as much worn out by the cares of a throne as by the infirmities of age.

The character of Henry was not deformed by any great vices, but neither was it distinguished by any remarkable talents. It was his misfortune to be thrown into a turbulent age, when his habits and mental qualities were calculated only to shine in times of internal and foreign peace.

By some the origin of parliaments, of the same kind as those of the present day, has been traced to this reign, while Henry was under the control of Leicester, about the year 1265. All the great councils of the Norman kings would seem to have been based on feudal principles. If the sovereign required aid of his liege man, the consent of the subject was necessary to legalize it; or if he wished to make changes in the existing laws and customs, it was expected that he should first consult those vassals, whom as their feudal lord he was bound to protect in all their rights and privileges. With the greater barons attendance was a duty, the neglect of which implied a breach of fealty, for so great was their influence that the king was unable to carry any law into effect without their concurrence. But the case was different with the inferior tenants; it was only in the event of extraordinary aids being required that they were called upon to attend, and most likely in early times by individual summons.

Thus far we seem to have seen the germs of a house of lords, the attendance having been personal. But there are instances previous to 1275, of the king having consulted the nation by representatives from the various counties. Thus William the Conqueror ordered twelve “noble and sage men” to be chosen in each county, who should meet in his presence, and by common consent determine what had been the statutes of his Anglo-Saxon predecessors. In the Magna Charta was a clause providing that twelve knights should be elected in the next court of each county to inquire into certain abuses therein specified. Henry III, in 1223, ordered the sheriffs of each county to enquire by means of twelve lawful and discreet knights, what were the rights of the crown when the war first began between John and his barons; and again, in 1258, he appointed four knights in each county, to enquire into all the excesses, transgressions, and injuries committed by judges, sheriffs, bailiffs, and all others, and to make their report to him in council on a certain day. The same course was pursued in regard to the collection of taxes. But the most ancient writ calling representatives to parliament was in 1213, the fifteenth year of the reign of king John, and the earliest summons of citizens and burgesses to the same meeting dates from the administration of Leicester.

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