THE ROYAL FAMILIES OF ENGLAND
Edward the Third
EDWARD the Third though he was now, in right is well as fact, king of England, was allowed to enjoy little more of royalty than the name. The real power was in the hands of the queen and her paramour, who hastened to make use of it in favour of themselves and their partizans. The larger portion of the forfeited estates fell to Mortimer, with the title of Earl of March ; Isabella obtained a present grant of twenty thousand pounds to pay her debts, and a future income to the same amount ; an act of indemnity was past for all the late violence’s; the judgements against Lancaster were reversed, their heirs or survivors restored to the possession of their estates, and a council of regency was appointed, consisting chiefly of those who belonged to the queen's faction.
A few years only of the truce with the Scots had expired, but, in utter violation of his engagements, Bruce resolved to avail himself of this opportunity, to wrest from the young king a solemn renunciation of the English claims to sovereignty in Scotland. The government of Edward endeavoured to enter into negotiations. Ambassadors from either party met in the marches according to previous agreement, yet with very little disposition to peace, as it seemed, on one side, for Bruce had summoned his military retainers to join him at the same place on the same day; and Edward, in self-defence, was obliged also to make preparations for war. The Scots would listen to no terms but their own, and upon these being refused, Douglas and Randolph crossed the borders with more than twenty-thousand men, and devastated Cumberland. Unfortunately, Edward was detained at York, waiting for a party of Hainaulters whom he had taken into his pay by the advice of Mortimer. They arrived, but it was only by their insolence to exasperate those whom they came to defend; a fierce battle was the consequence, and it was with great difficulty that an outward show of concord was established between the parties. At length, Edward marched to Durham with more than forty thousand men, a force sufficient, under an able general, to have crushed the invaders, could he have found and brought them to an action. But the object of the Scot, was to ravage and then escape without coming to a pitch battle ; a mode of warfare for which their habits peculiarly adapted them. Their army consisted entirely of horsemen, unencumbered with baggage or provisions, beyond a scanty supply of oatmeal, which each carried in a bag at his saddle. Their meat, when they had any, was the cattle of the country, which they slaughtered and then boiled in the skins; and so rapid was their advance or retreat, that many days elapsed before Edward could discover where they were, though their progress would seem to have been sufficiently marked by burning villages. Even then, he did not obtain the requisite intelligence, till he had promised knighthood and pecuniary reward to whomsoever should bring him tidings of the marauders.
Douglas had taken up his position with considerable, military skill, upon a mountain, with the Wear flowing below. The English, would fain by their herald have tempted him to come down and fight them, a piece of chivalrous folly which he had the good sense to refuse, observing that he had come there against the king's will, and should not leave it to please him. Thereupon, the English lay down all night on their arms, while the Scots, having left a division to watch the river, retired to their huts, where," says Froissart, "they made marvellous great fires, and about midnight, set up such a blasting with their horns, that it seemed as if all the great devils from hell were assembled together."
On the third day the Scots had disappeared, but, towards evening, they were discovered on a mountain of yet more difficult access; and at night, Douglas crossed the river with two hundred men, and after having penetrated as far as the king's tent, retired with little loss. Nor was this attack so objectless as it seemed to be. The next day, Edward learned from a prisoner, that the Scottish army had received orders to assemble in the evening, and deceived by this intimation, after what had already passed, the English stood under arms in expectation of a second nocturnal attempt. In the meanwhile, the Scots were quietly but rapidly retreating to their own country, and by morning had made pursuit useless.
If the king's advisers had shown themselves bad generals in the campaign, they now proved that they were equally deficient as statesmen. As the purchase of peace, they resigned all claims to the Scottish crown, though it was not so very long since it bad been made a capital charge against the younger Spenser, that he bad failed to win it for his master. On the other hand, it was agreed that the king's sister, Jane, should marry David, the son and heir of the Scottish monarch, who was to pay thirty thousand marks in compensation for the damages inflicted upon this country. This money, Isabella divided between herself and Mortimer.
The people now grew more and more discontented, though that would probably have been of little consequence in their abject state, had not the partizans of Isabella begun to quarrel amongst themselves. A large body of the nobles, had, by this time, become as jealous of the favour of Mortimer with the queen, as they had formerly been of Gaveston or Spenser, with the murdered monarch. The earls of Lancaster, Kent, and Norfolk, rose in arms against him, but were soon reduced, by his vigorous measures or by their own weakness, to solicit pardon and pay the penalties he thought it advisable to inflict. It would seem, however, that neither Mortimer nor his opponents were too sincere in their reconciliation. A short time afterwards, when the parliament assembled at Winchester, the earl of Kent, the archbishop of York, the bishop of London, with several knights and gentlemen, were arrested on a charge of conspiring to dethrone the king, under the belief that his father was still living in Corfe castle. Upon his examination, the earl of Kent confessed that he had been deceived by forged letters and false messages, and there seems to be some ground for suspecting that they had been framed by his accusers, for the very purpose of ensnaring him. His peers, while condemning him, had hoped that mercy would be shown by the nephew to his uncle, the son of the great Edward. Isabella was inexorable his head fell under the axe of a felon from the Marshalsea, for no other could be found to perform the office.
The people loudly murmured at this act of barbarity, in the full conviction of his innocence, and Edward, who was now eighteen, began to be impatient of the restraint in which be was held. By the advice of Lord Montacute, he determined to break his fetters, for which purpose it was planned to seize Mortimer during the session of parliament at Nottingham. That Mortimer had some suspicion of this design, though ignorant of its details, is evident from his extraordinary precautions; a strong guard being posted within the walls, the locks of the gates changed, and the keys laid every night on the queen's pillow. In this dilemma, Montaeute made a confidant of Sir William Eland, the governor, who disclosed to him a subterranean passage, leading from the west side of the rock into the castle, which was unknown to the favourite. At midnight he admitted the confederates by this passage, when they were joined by Edward, on the staircase leading to the principal tower, which they mounted in silence, 'till they heard the sound of voices from a room next to the queen's, where Mortimer was consulting with the bishop of Ely, and his principal advisers. The doors were forced in a moment, two knights who defended the entrance, being slain. Alarmed by the noise, lsabella rushed from her bed into the room, and besought them, in the most piteous terms, to spare "the gentle Mortimer, her dearest friend, her well-beloved cousin." In spite of her shame less entreaties, the culprit was secured, and the next day, the king, taking the reins of government into his own hands, convened a new parliament. Upon their meeting, Mortimer was condemned to death by the peers, and hanged, with Sir Simon Bereford, at the elms at Tyburn; while the queen, who yet more richly deserved the same fate, was confined to her manor of Risings, and her income reduced to three thousand pounds. The king, however, paid her an annual visit of ceremony, and after a time, added a thousand a year to her allowance.
By the death of Bruce, which happened about this time, fresh grounds of dispute arose between the two kingdoms. Many of the barons in either country possessed lands in the other, and these, having been seized by the respective sovereigns on the breaking out of the war, had not been returned to their owners, as was expected on the conclusion of peace. Edward interfered in behalf of the Lords Wake and Beaumont, but received only evasive answers from Randolph, earl of Moray, to whom Bruce had left the guardianship of his son, David, then in his seventh year. The claimants certainly had right on their side, inasmuch as a particular clause bad been inserted in their favour in the negotiations of the time; and they now resolved to enforce that right, for which purpose they hastened to the north, where they were joined by all the English lords, having the same sort of claim with themselves, and by Edward Baliol, the son and heir of him whom the king's grandfather bad compelled to resign the crown. The counsellors of Edward were ashamed openly to sanction this violation of existing treaties, though they might have pleaded the example of Bruce, who never suffered any treaty to stand in the way of a favourable opportunity; and they strictly enjoined the sheriffs to forbid the passage of armed men through the marches. Upon this, Baliol and his confederates changed their plan of operations ; collecting their followers in Holderness, they sailed with about three thousand men from Ravenspur, a port in the mouth of the Humber, and landed on the coast of Fife. 'What follows is more akin to the marvellous than many a tale of wonder. After a succession of daring adventures and decisive victories, Baliol in seven weeks achieves the crown of Scotland; in less than three months he loses it, and escapes with difficulty to the English marches.
During the brief sovereignty of Baliol, the English king had watched his progress with pleasure, and had entered into secret negotiations, by which the crown of Scotland would again have become a fief of England, with many other contingent advantages. These of course ceased when Baliol was expelled; but the incursions of the Scots upon the borders, roused the English parliament; war was openly renewed, and Edward, with Baliol, commenced the siege of Berwick, when the inhabitants agreed to surrender, unless relieved before a certain day. To save this important fortress, Sir Archibald Douglas, the new regent, crossing the Tweed, with a numerous army offered battle, and, when this was declined, ravaged Northumberland. Edward now demanded the surrender of Berwick. The Scots affected to consider that it had been relieved. In revenge, Edward hanged one of the hostages, and the terrified defenders then agreed to admit the English at the end of three days, unless the siege was previously raised, or a body of three hundred armed men could be introduced between sunrise and sunset. On the third day the Scottish army was seen advancing in four bodies, and Edward drew up his forces on Halidon Hill. The Scots, fatigued by the ascent, and sorely annoyed by the English archers, were disordered before they could reach their opponents; a dreadful slaughter ensued, the regent, six earls, and many barons, falling upon the field: and the battle of Halidon Hill has long been remembered in history and song as one of the most sanguinary of conflicts. The town and castle of Berwick were surrendered ; for greater security, the young king and his wife, Edward's sister, were conveyed from Dumbarton to France; Baliol was again seated on the throne of Scotland.
So long as the new king had the active support of Edward, he could defy the perfidy of his followers no less than the obstinacy of his enemies; but Edward, like his great ancestor, instead of attempting the useful and feasible project of uniting the whole island under one crown, was carried away by the impossible design,—and bootless, if it had been possible,—of subjecting France to his dominion. War then languished; David returned to claim the throne; and Baliol, driven from the land he had ruled, was employed in protecting the northern counties of England.
Never was claim more groundless than that which Edward brought forward to the throne of France. If he ever had possessed any right, he virtually renounced it when he did homage to Philip for his duchy of Guienne. But he never possessed any thing more than the shadow of a right. Philip IV., surnamed the Fair, left three sons, Louis, Philip, and Charles, who all came in turn to the throne, and all died without male issue. On the decease of the younger brother, it became necessary to seek for the true heir amongst the descendants of their predecessors ; two competitors appeared; Edward of England and Philip of Valois; the former claimed as the grandson of Philip IV., by his daughter, Isabella; the latter as the grandson to the father of that monarch, Philip III., by his son, Charles de Valois. It had indeed been decided on the death of Louis, that females could not succeed to the French throne; but in opposition to this fundamental law of the kingdom, Edward contended that though such a disqualification applied to his mother, it did not extend to her son. Philip replied, that a mother could not convey any right to another, of which she was not herself possessed. The cause was then brought before the twelve peers and barons of France, who set aside the claims of Edward, and Philip in consequence took possession of the crown. Hence arose perpetual jealousies between the monarchs, Philip always supporting the Scots either openly or covertly against the superior power of England, and Edward never fairly resigning a claim that he had virtually abandoned. The countenance lent by the French monarch to the young king, David, blew these embers to a flame. Edward, it is true, did all he 'could to detach Philip from the orphan's interest, but finding his efforts fruitless, he was the more ready to listen to the suggestions of Robert, Count of Artois, who had fled from France as an outlaw, and found a refuge in the English court.
To assist in his great schemes of conquest, Edward now contracted alliances with Louis of Bavaria, Emperor of Germany, the Dukes of Brabant and Gueldres, the Archbishop of Cologne, and other inferior powers, as well as Jacob van Artaveldt, the celebrated brewer of Ghent. The money requisite for his projects was collected by subsidies, tallages, forced loans, and pawning his crown and jewels; yet the nation, or at least its representatives, showed no discontent, and in the summer of 1338, he sailed with a numerous fleet from Orewell to Antwerp. His allies, however, instead of coming into the field, contented themselves with promising to join him in the July of the following year, so that he was able to effect but little; and when they did appear, they evinced no extraordinary zeal in his cause. The counts of Namur and Hainault were the first to abandon him. In a short time the rest of his allies refused to advance, and Edward, reluctantly yielding to their advice, directed his march towards the Ardennes. Here he received letters from the French king, challenging him to fight on the next Thursday, and inviting him to choose a field of battle in an open plain with out wood, water, or morass. In consequence of this chivalrous offer be recalled his detachments, which had been spreading devastation to the gates of Laon, and posted himself at the village of La Flamengrie. It was not, however, till Friday evening, that Philip arrived at Vironfosse, about five miles distant, and the next day Edward marshalled his forces on foot in three divisions, with the English archers and Welsh lancers before the men at arms. The French king had adopted a similar arrangement; but though his army far outnumbered the English, his counsellors advised him rather to let his enemies wear themselves out in a protracted campaign, than to stake his crown upon the chances of a single battle. Complying with this sagacious advice, he retreated into the interior, and Edward disbanded his army; though he was as little inclined as ever to listen to the friendly remonstranees of the pope, who sought to persuade him to a peace, and rebuked him for accepting from the Emperor Louis, the title of vicar of the empire at a time when the latter was unacknowledged by the apostolic see.
On his arrival in England, he was fortunate enough to obtain from his parliament an unprecedented supply. In the mean while, Philip, by the help of the Genoese and Normans, had assembled a powerful fleet in the harbour of Sluys, to intercept his expected return. Undaunted by the tidings, Edward collected every vessel in the southern ports, and in defiance of his more timid counsellors, sailed from Orewell to meet the enemy, whom he discovered the next evening off Blankenberg. During the night they moved from their anchorage, and at day-break were seen moored in four lines across the passage, presenting to the English an astounding spectacle of nineteen sail of unusual dimensions, two hundred ships of war, and a countless swarm of smaller vessels. On their mast-beads they carried turrets provided with stones, and they were fastened to each other by iron chains. Confident in this immense superiority, the French, on seeing that Edward put to sea, imagined he was flying, while in reality his purpose was to avoid the sun which shone full in his eyes, and soon afterwards having both wind and tide in his favour he bore down on the first line of his opponents. The resistance for a time was obstinate ; but the French decks were soon cleared by the discharges of the English archers, when the men at arms boarded, and every ship in the first line was captured. At this crisis; a fleet from the northern countries arrived, under the Lord Morley. A panic seized the second and third lines of the enemy. Instead of waiting for the combined attack that threatened them, they leaped from their ships, which they could not disengage, into their boats, and more than two thousand are said to have been drowned. The fourth line, consisting of sixty large vessels, still offered a brave, but vain resistance, till the setting-in of night allowed a few stragglers to escape in the dark ; the rest of the fleet was taken by the English, whose whole loss amounted only to four thousand men, and two ships sunk, while on the French side, more than twenty thousand men are said to have perished. Humanity shudders at such a frightful waste of life, for no better object than to settle whether a Philip or an Edward should wear the crown of France.
The victor now repaired to his royal consort at Ghent, where he was joined by the principal of his allies, whom the English gold had set in motion. But the result little answered the general expectation, and Edward from his camp before Tournay, sent a challenge to " Philip de Valois," proposing to decide their quarrel either by single combat between themselves, or by a hundred combatants on each side, or by a general battle. To this the French king replied, that he answered no letters addressed to "Philip de Valois," and should drive out his rebellious vassal when he thought proper. Edward then had nothing left for it but to continue the siege of Tournay, while his opponent watched, without interrupting him, from the neighbourhood of Bouvines, and he already began to feel the truth of the pontiff's predictions. If on the one hand the city was reduced to the greatest straits, on the other his treasures were exhausted, and his faithful allies had no stomach for the fight unless it was sauced with English gold. Thus pressed by circumstances he was obliged to consent to a nine months armistice, in which Scotland was included, and which was afterwards prolonged for another year. It was high time: the English exchequer could no longer supply his demands; his allies clamoured for their pay which he was obliged to borrow of usurers at exorbitant interest; and rumours were brought to him that be could no longer trust his ministers. Leaving several noblemen in pledge with his creditors, and regardless of the weather, he sailed suddenly from a port in Zealand, and landed about midnight at the Tower, with out his arrival having been suspected. The next day, he displaced the chancellor, treasurer, and master of the rolls, confined three of the judges, and ordered the arrest of most of the principals employed in collecting the revenue. Archbishop Stratford, however, the president of the council, escaped to Canterbury, where he set Edward at defiance, refusing to answer to any but his peers in parliament; nor did the king dare to proceed to extremities.
On the assembling of parliament, a question grew out of this matter well deserving of consideration. When the archbishop in obedience to his summons would have entered the hall, he was hurried into the court of exchequer to hear an information lodged against him by the king's order. The lords held this to be a violation of their privileges, and at length Edward allowed the primate to take his seat, but he himself immediately left the house, and caused him to be accused before the citizens of London and the house of commons. This was no less considered a breach of privilege; and the necessity of procuring a supply eventually compelled the king to acquiesce in their demand, that when a peer was impeached by the crown, he could not be compelled to plead before any other tribunal than the high court of parliament.
So favourable an opportunity of obtaining a redress of their own peculiar grievances was not omitted by the clergy or the commons. Openly, Edward granted anything and everything they chose of him; in private he had beforehand signed a protest that what he should grant from necessity he would revoke at his own convenience. No sooner had he obtained the required grant, than he unblushingly proclaimed this intention to the people, and revoked the late statute, though two years elapsed before he would again venture to meet his parliament. By that time their anger had so far subsided that they consented to the repeal.
If Edward had ever in reality abandoned his idea of conquering for himself the throne of France, an event now happened that awoke all his dormant ambition. On the death of John III., Duke of Bretagne, without male heir, his fief was claimed by his daughter Jane, who had married Charles de Blois, the French king's nephew. This claim was contested by the brother of the deceased, John, Earl of Montfort, who immediately did homage for his fief to Edward, as if the latter had been king of France. The rival monarchs supported their respective vassals, and a war commenced, in which Charles took Montfort prisoner. The interests, however, of the captive were ably defended by his wife, Jane, who roused the enthusiasm of the people in his favour, and maintained the castle of Hennebon against all the efforts of her besiegers. At length the garrison was reduced to the greatest straits, and the bishop of Leon had already arranged the terms of capitulation, when the Countess from the castle- turret espied the English fleet. It bore Sir Walter Manny, with a body of troops, strong enough to raise the siege, but too weak to be of service in the field.
In the autumn Edward landed on the French coast with a body of twelve thousand men, and attempted to invest three cities at the same time. The arrival of Philip's eldest son, the Duke of Normandy, compelled him to concentrate and intrench his forces, and the French doing the same, the two armies remained thus for many weeks during the winter. In this state both parties were more inclined than they had been to listen to the Pope's mediation. A truce was concluded for three years and eight months, the release of John de Montfort being one of the conditions, and the execution of this Philip contrived to evade. His prisoner, however, escaped from the Louvre after a lengthened captivity, and died at Hennebon, having by will appointed Edward guardian to his son.
The armistice was, as usual, continually violated on either side. In consequence, the war broke out again, and an army sailed for France, under the command of the king's cousin, the brave and accomplished Earl of Derby, who after an uninterrupted series of success, fought a most splendid action under the walls of Auberoche, then besieged by the Count of Lisle. With only three hundred men at arms and six hundred archers, Derby burst at supper time into the French camp, killed the general and many of the principal officers, and took others prisoners, while the archers with their arrows dispersed every body of their opponents as fast as they could be formed in opposition. By this time the attack had become known to the other half of the besiegers on the opposite side of the city, and the conquerors had still to contend with an overwhelming superiority of numbers; but the garrison charged in the rear of the French, and of the whole twelve thousand very few escaped.
To counterbalance these successes in some measure, Artaveldt, the firm support of Edward with the Flemings, was murdered by the people of Ghent. The Flemish deputies, however, still promised their aid, and the king with an army of his own subjects made a descent upon the Norman coast, burning the vessels in the harbours, pillaging the country, firing the villages, and collecting prisoners. Amongst the latter were the constable of France, sixty knights, and three hundred of the wealthiest citizens. Edward's object seems to have been to march through Pieardy, join his Flemish allies, who had crossed the French frontiers, to the number of forty thousand, and then lay siege to Calais. But at Rouen he found the bridge over the Seine broken down, and Philip posted on the opposite bank. From this critical situation the English king escaped by a skilful manoeuvre Early in the morning he decamped from Poissy, as if to march upon the capital, but no sooner had this movement attracted the French to the same direction, than he retraced his steps, cleared the opposite bank by the help of his archers, and having crossed the bridge, which the workmen had repaired, established himself in Pontoise. It was now Philip's interest to challenge a battle, and Edward's to refuse, which he accordingly did, with a declaration, that he would always be found ready for the fight, but that as he was in his own dominions he would not allow any one to dictate to him either the place or day.
The English king at length reached the Somme, where his progress was again checked by an obstacle to all appearance in surmountable; he could neither force nor discover a passage, and Philip was close upon his heels ; so that the next day he must either defeat an army eight times more numerous than his own, or be driven into the sea. At this juncture the promise of gold and liberty, induced a prisoner to guide him at midnight to Blanchetaque, where, during the ebb-tide, the river might be passed even on foot. On arriving there, the English found the water not yet sufficiently low, while a little after day-break twelve thousand men appeared on the opposite bank, ready to dispute the passage, when the tide should have run out enough to allow of their attempting it. In this painful state they waited for some hours, expecting every moment the arrival of their pursuers, who could not be far distant. By ten o'clock the ford had become passable, and the men at arms plunging into the river, were met half way by the French cavalry. But the desperation of the English prevailed; the enemy were routed with the loss of two thousand men, and Edward marched on to Crotoa. Here he made a halt, calmly waiting the arrival of his pursuers; a movement for which it is impossible to assign any adequate cause, since his own situation had not improved, and the forces of his enemy had received a considerable augmentation. The spot chosen by Edward for the expected battle was a gentle eminence a little behind the village of Creci. In the evening be supped with his barons, and by his real, or affected cheerfulness, endeavoured to inspire them with that confidence which is so essential to victory. What passed when they had left him can hardly be known to any one; yet it is said that he prayed fervently to God to preserve his honour, and on retiring to bed at midnight, slept but little. In the same spirit, when morning dawned he assisted at mass, and took the communion with his son, the Prince of Wales, then in his fifteenth year.
The day opened with those disturbances of nature, which men have at all times been fond of fancying were intended to be prophetic of great events, as if the inanimate world sympathised with human deeds and sufferings. The sun was partially eclipsed, and birds in clouds flew screaming over the soldiers' heads, announcing the storm which presently burst upon them in torrents of rain accompanied with incessant thunder and lightning. Amidst this war of elements, the inareschals issued their orders, and each lord marched under his own banner and pennon, to the ground assigned to him on the preceding day, all being dismounted, that the temptation of pursuit or flight might be alike removed. The prince nominally commanded the first division, consisting of eight hundred men at arms, a thousand Welsh infantry, and two thousand archers; the actual direction of this important body was confided to the Earls of Warwick and Oxford. Behind it at some distance, but rather on its flank, was posted a second and smaller division. The third array under the king's command, which comprised seven hundred men at arms, and two thousand archers, took up its ground on the top of a hill as a reserve, the archers in each division being formed in its front in shape of a portcullis. Strict orders were given out that no one should incumber himself with prisoners, or quit his post to pursue a fugitive.
To oppose this small though well arranged body, Philip advanced at the head of a force that has been. variously estimated at every intermediate number, between sixty and one hundred and twenty thousand. About five o'clock in the afternoon, at which time the sun burst out in all its splendour, darting its rays full in the eyes of the French, the Genoese in their service, with loud shouts discharged their quarrels, and thus commenced the engagement. This volley was received in silence by the English archers, who returned such a flight of arrows, that the cross-bowmen began to waver, and the Count D'Alençon added to the confusion, by ordering his men to cut down the fugitives. At length, after he had lost many knights by the shafts of the archers and the knives of the Welshmen, a passage was cleared; while he skirted the English bowmen on one side, and his colleague, the Earl of Flanders on the other, a strong body of the allies forced their way to the men at arms, under the prince. Immediately the second division closed for his support, yet so doubtful was the strife, that Sir Thomas Norwich was sent to the king for aid from the reserve. "Is my son killed or wounded ?" was his demand; and upon a reply that he was still unhurt, Edward exclaimed, "then tell Warwick he shall have no assistance. Let the boy win his spurs. He and those who have him in charge, shall earn the whole glory of the day." The boldness of the monarch kindled a similar spirit in his warriors; from that moment they sought no aid but from their own stout hands and true hearts.
Philip meanwhile had been making strenuous efforts to join D’Alençon, but had constantly been beaten back by the archers in his front, and losing numbers of his best and bravest at every charge. Darkness came on; the battle was evidently lost; and in the end he escaped to Amiens, with a party of sixty knights and five barons. For a time, however, the French, who yet remained on the field, continued to fight in detached bodies, maintaining an unavailing resistance till the growing darkness and the melting away of their numbers put an end to the battle. Even then, though it was evident the enemy were repulsed, Edward knew not the full extent of his victories, and ordering watch-fires to be kindled, proclaimed that no man should leave his post. A foggy morning succeeded to the darkness of the night, and to gain the requisite information, the English king sent out a small detachment, who fell in with, and put to the sword, a body of militia from Beauvais and Amiens. The latter had advanced in utter ignorance of danger, and a similar mistake proved no less fatal to the Archbishop of Rouen and the Grand Prior of France, with a numerous body of knights. Nor did the slaughter consequent upon the lost battle, end here. Thousands of the fugitives from the field of the preceding day, had passed the night under the trees and hedges, and these were butchered by the English cavalry with so little mercy, that the after carnage is said to have exceeded that of the battle itself. To enumerate the list of the slain would be a profitless task. It will be sufficient to remind the reader that at Creci, fell the Bohemian king, whose crest of three ostrich feathers, with the motto “ Ich dien,” was then adopted by the prince of Wales, and has since been always borne by his successors.
While Edward now employed himself in reducing Calais, that he might have a convenient harbour on the French coast, Philip endeavoured to persuade the Scottish king to avail himself of so favourable an opportunity to invade England. In an evil hour for himself, David listened to these suggestions. Marching at the head of three thousand men at arms, and about thirty thousand others mounted on galloways, he entered Cumberland, took the” pyle of Liddel,” beheaded the governor, plundered the abbey of Lanercrost, and advanced amidst the usual ravages into the bishopric of Durham. But in the meanwhile an English army had silently assembled in Auckland park, animated by the presence of Queen Philippa, and burning to avenge themselves on the merciless invaders. Douglas had that morning conducted a party of his plunderers to Ferry-hill, but being intercepted on his return had the good fortune to escape with the loss of five hundred men, and had thus made David acquainted with his peril. The Scotch were in consequence marshalled on the moor, their opponents being posted on an eminence near Nevil’s cross. Little skill, as it seems, was shown in the position of the former, whose cavalry entangled among the hedges, was exposed to the unerring aim of the English archers. The Earl of Moray fell, and the wing he had commanded was dispersed; the other under Stewart, maintained a feeble resistance, the centre, under the immediate command of the king, was fast melting away. Yet still, David disdained to fly or to surrender, and bucklered round by his nobles, maintained the fight until two wounds brought him to the ground; when after a violent struggle he was made a prisoner by Coupland, a Northumbrian gentleman, who carried him off to his castle of Ogle. The Scots then abandoned the field, and retreated as best they could to their own country, after having lost fifteen thousand men besides prisoners. Amongst the latter, in addition to the king, might be numbered three earls and forty-nine barons and knights, two of whom, the Earl of Menteith and. the Earl of Fife, were condemned for traitors, the one as having been sworn of Edward’s privy council, and the other as having done homage to Baliol. Menteith was executed, the Earl of Fife was spared because of his royal blood; and David was surrendered by his captor to the sheriff, and imprisoned in the Tower of London.
In other quarters, the English arms met with the same success. The Earl of Derby, whom Edward had left to defend Guienne against an overwhelming superiority under John, Duke of Normandy, refused to meet his enemy in the field, and the French thus baffled, had laid siege to Aquillon. For many months the Duke employed every resource that force or ingenuity could supply, but finding that Sir Walter Manny and his brave garrison were neither to be subdued nor outwitted, he determined to starve them into a surrender. But the battle of Creci made his presence necessary elsewhere, and no sooner was he gone, than the Earl, issuing from Bourdeaux, laid waste Ancoenis, Saintogne and Poitou, carried Poicticrs by storm, and returned, laden with spoil to his winter quarters.
Edward was now engaged in the siege of Calais. Though bravely defended, it was reduced to such straits by famine, that Philip determined to attempt its relief, and taking with him the oriflamme, the sacred standard of France, encamped at Whitsand, with a hundred and fifty-thousand men. But the English could be approached only by two roads, one along the beach, and the other across the marches by the bridge of Neuillet. Both were so well guarded, that Philip shrank from the attempt to force them, and he had recourse to the expedient of challenging Edward to a pitched battle on equal ground. The challenge was accepted. On the eve of the day appointed, Philip poorly retreated from the combat he had provoked, and the flag of England was seen waving from the castle. What followed belongs as much to tale and ballad as to history. The town had been compelled to surrender at discretion, and it was feared that Edward, embittered by their resistance, would punish them, as he had often threatened, for their frequent piracies. To satisfy his resentment, Eustace de St. Pierre offered to stake his life for the safety of his fellow-townsmen; five others imitated his ex ample; bare-footed and bare-headed, with halters in their hands, they marched on foot to the English camp, preceded by Vienne on a palfrey, because of his wounds, and followed by fifteen knights, their head bare and their swords pointed to the ground. Edward received them as one resolved not to pardon. The governor on his knees presented his sword to him with the keys of the town, imploring the royal clemency. The king still affected to be inexorable, and sent for the executioner, when suddenly his queen, Philippa, appears on the scene, and to her tears and entreaties he seemed with reluctance to yield their pardon. Left to her disposal, she clothes them, invites them to a repast, and on their departure makes to each a present of six nobles.
On the fall of Calais, the papal legates renewed their efforts to bring about a peace, and succeeded at last in procuring an armistice for six months, which under the same influence was prolonged for six years. Not that peace itself was exempted from some of the casualties of war. Even in the midst of the truce, Sir Geoffrey de Charyny endeavoured to corrupt the fidelity of Amerigo, to whom Calais had been entrusted, and he, to punish the French governor for such an insult to his honour, pretended to accept the offer, while at the same time he informed Edward of it. The Frenchmen being at midnight introduced into the area of the castle, found themselves caught in their own snare. They were attacked on all sides, Edward himself fighting on foot as a private knight, under the banner of Manny, though he had well nigh paid the forfeit of this chivalrous folly. In the combat with Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont, whom he had singled out for his superior valour, he was beaten down, and with difficulty succeeded in making himself master of his opponent. When the fight was over, the king having discovered himself, invited his captives to supper, loaded Ribeaumont with eulogies, and finally released him without ransom.
The land does not appear to have afforded sufficient strife for the warlike propensities of Edward. The mariners in the bay of Biscay, had formed a large fleet under Don Carlos de la Cerda, their chief object being to trade with Flanders, but they did not scruple to join piracy to traffic, and when threatened with reprisals, boldly claimed the dominion of the seas. Instead of leaving the chastisement of these robbers to his captains, Edward took upon himself the command of the fleet, and with fifty sail, far inferior in equipment and tonnage to the Spaniards, cruised in expectation of them between Dover and Calais. On the third day the enemy appeared. Edward was seated on the forecastle, amusing himself with his minstrels, when this was announced from the mast-head, and immediately the trumpets sounded, the line was formed, and the knights having each drunk a draught of wine, put on their armour. As the Spaniards bore down, Edward compelled the master of his vessel to lay her right in the way of one that was in full sail. The water poured in at the leaks opened by the concussion, and the seamen, as the only way of saving their lives, made a desperate effort, and got possession of the ship that had done the mischief. The prince too had no less narrow an escape; his ship sinking, he was saved from the waves by the Earl of Derby, who had lately been created Duke of Lancaster. By evening, however, fourteen of the Spanish ships had been captured, though not without severe loss to their conquerors, and the result of this victory was a truce between the King of England, and the maritime cities of the lordship of the King of Castile.
If England had sacrificed to empty glory in the late campaigns full fifty thousand of her gallant defenders, she had now to mourn over a yet greater calamity, for which her king was not answerable. The plague, which had first been observed in Cathai, crossing over Asia and the continent of Europe, in the August of 1348, made its appearance at Dorchester, whence by the month of November, it spread to London, and gradually reached the north of the island, Many died of it in six hours, few lingered more than two or three days. From man the disease extended to cattle, whose putrefying carcasses, untouched by birds of prey, helped to aggravate the malady. All husbandry was suspended, the courts of justice closed, the cemeteries of London completely filled, and Sir Walter Manny purchased for a public burial place, a field of thirteen acres, on which the charter-house now stands. The Irish escaped its influence, though it attacked the English in their country. The Scots, after being exempted from the contagion for months, at length in their turn became its victim, five thousand of them perishing in their camp in the forest of Selkirk.
For the first year, the reduction in the number of consumers produced a corresponding reduction in all merchantable articles; in the second, the price of everything rose to an alarming height from the want of labourers to cultivate the land, for the plague had chiefly affected the lower classes, the more wealthy escaping by shutting themselves up in their castles. Laws to enforce labour and limit wages, were passed by the king and his counsellors, without alleviating the evil, while the pious amongst his subjects, were even more uselessly employed in speculations upon its causes. Some ascribed it to the prevailing extravagance in dress, the deep sleeves and narrow waists of the men, with their pointed shoes, being particularly offensive to sound morals; the turbans of the ladies, and their parti-coloured tunics, were also considered very sufficient reasons why Heaven should have visited the land with pestilence. The flagellants went still farther. This sect, which had arisen in Hungary, undertook to wipe away the malady. On a day appointed they were formed in two lines, and for awhile moved slowly through the streets, scourging their naked shoulders, and chanting a sacred hymn; at a given signal, they all threw themselves flat upon the ground except the last, who, as he passed his companions, gave a lash to each, and then lay down. The others in succession did the same, till every one in turn had received a stroke from the whole fraternity. Strange to say, notwithstanding the extreme absurdity of these flagellants, they did not make a single proselyte.
It may be thought some counterbalance to this terrible affliction, that Edward began to see the impolicy of protracting the war with France, and even offered to resign all pretensions to its throne, in exchange for the sovereignty of those provinces he held as flefs in his own right and that of his queen. rejected by Philip, the proposal seemed not unacceptable to his heir and successor, John. The pride however, of the French barons, and we must allow it to have been a just pride, broke off the treaty as derogatory to their sovereign, and a new campaign was opened by the young prince, now called, from the colour of his arms, the Black Prince. His army of sixty—thousand men, was divided into several battles,” in order to extend their ravages over a wider extent of country. From the walls of Bourdeaux, he led his plunderers through the county of Armagnac to the foot of the Pyrenees ; thence, turning to the north, he continued his devastation’s till he reached Toulouse. Finding all his efforts fruitless to provoke a battle with the enemy, he marched back to Bourdeaux, having it to boast that in the short space of seven weeks he had laid in ashes more than five hundred cities, towns, and villages.
While the prince was thus employed, Edward had marched from Calais, at the head of a gallant array. But the want of provisions soon compelled him to return, and in the meantime the Scots had crossed the borders and taken Berwick. At the first intelligence of this disaster, the king hastened back to England, obtained from his parliament a liberal aid for six years, and by the mere terror of his name recovered the town. At Roxburgh, whither he next advanced, he purchased of Baliol, his right to the Scottish throne, as if a nation could be bought and sold like a farm or any other estate, and with the banner of Scotland displayed before him, marched through the Lothians.
Here, too, he pursued the same line of military tactics that the Black Prince had used in France; dividing his army into small bodies he reduced to ashes every farm-house, village, and town, within twenty miles of the sea-coast, till his farther progress was stopt at Edinburgh, by the want of provisions ; his fleet, which carried a plentiful supply, having been driven back by a strong northerly wind. In consequence he was obliged to return without having attained any useful object; but this expedition was long remembered as the burnt candlemas,” justifiable only—if, indeed, it could be justified—by the constant barbarities that the Scots exercised upon the northern parts of England. France too, was again destined to reap her full share of the punishment that seemed on every side to await the enemies of Edward. Excited by the success of the preceding year, the Black Prince commenced a new campaign in another direction. With a small army of twelve-thousand men he left Bourdeaux, and overrun the fertile provinces of Querci, Limousin, Auvergne, and Bern, treading the harvest under foot, burning the houses, slaughtering the cattle, and conducting to Bourdeaux, every captive able to pay his ransom, and in the midst of this desolating march, the intelligence of the French king’s advance with a numerous army compelled him to retreat. So little, however, was he informed of the actual motions of his enemy, that he did not discover the full extent of his danger till he unexpectedly fell in with their rear at Maupertins, a village about four miles from Poitiers.
According to the lowest calculations, the French on this occasion exceeded their adversaries in the proportion of seven to one. The advantage of position was with the English, the ground they bad taken up being an eminence covered with vineyards and intersected by hedges, and, therefore, unfavourable to cavalry, in which the chief strength of the French consisted. In one part only was it accessible by a long narrow lane, that would no where admit more than four horsemen abreast. To make the most of these advantages, the prince formed his men at arms on foot, in front of the road, posting half of his archers before them in the figure of a portcullis or harrow, and with the other half, lined all the hedges between the main body and the moor on which the enemy was encamped. The French army was in three divisions on foot, under the separate commands of his cousin, the Duke of Orleans, of his three eldest sons, and of John himself, with his fourth son, a youth in his sixteenth year. Three small bodies were retained on horse-back, one of which, consisting of three hundred knights and esquires the flower of his army, was intended to disperse the archers in front of the English line. Scarcely were these preparations completed, than the Cardinal Talleyrand Perigord arrived, and endeavoured to persuade both parties to a compromise. The Black Prince, who had little to hope from the issue of a battle, listened to him willingly enough, offering to restore his spoil, conquest, and captives, and not bear arms against France for seven years. John confident in his numbers, would hear of nothing but the prince’s surrender with a hundred of his knights, and this was absolutely refused.
During the interval some slight changes had been made in the arrangements of either side. The battle now began by the French advancing up the lane at the head of their cavalry, a movement to which the English for a while offered no opposition. At length the order for the attack was given, and the archers behind the hedges poured in such repeated and destructive flights of arrows, that the passage was soon choked up with the dead and dying. A few knights only, forced their way to the front of the English line, none could penetrate to the main body; and even they with their followers were soon driven back upon their second division, which also began to waver. The archers advanced in front, and a body of six hundred English crossing a near hill, unexpectedly fell upon their flank. Upon this, the knights in the rear left their banners to secure their horses, and the lords, who had charge of the three princes, sent them for safely to Chauvigni, with an escort of eight hundred lancers. Their departure being mistaken for flight, the whole division soon dispersed. It was now that the English men at arms, by the advice of Sir John Chandos, advanced from the enclosures to the moor, which had become the theatre of battle. First, the Duke of Athens, next the German cavalry, endeavoured to repel them; each attempt was defeated, and John in despair, brought forward his reserve; but twice wounded in the face and beaten to the ground, he was surrounded by enemies and obliged, after a gallant defence to surrender. At the same time, his son Philip was also made prisoner.
The prince’s moderation in victory added fresh lustre to his arms. Having concluded a truce with the dauphin for two years, he proceeded, in the spring, with his captive to London, where he was received in triumph by his father, who now held two monarchs captive. Edward, however, had learnt to moderate his ambition, and willingly entered into negotiations for their ransom, even acknowledging David to be king of Scotland, and liberating him on condition that he should pay one hundred thousand marks in twenty half-yearly payments. But it soon appeared that the Scots were unable to fulfil what they had under taken, and for eight years the two kingdoms were constantly on the verge of war, a state of things which was happily terminated by a new agreement. By this a truce was granted for five and twenty years, the Scots being bound to pay annually during that period the sum of six thousand marks. A farther clause provided that either party, at the end of four years, might recommence hostilities after six months’ previous notice. At the end of the last named period, Edward being engaged in war, the terms were yet farther modified.
The terms proposed to the king of France were much harder. Edward offered to renounce all claim to the French crown, but in return he demanded an enormous ransom, and the restoration with full sovereignty, of all the provinces held by his ancestors. Though John, in the distracted state of his kingdom, would have accepted these conditions, his people rejected them with indignation, and in the autumn Edward again sailed for Calais with a mighty armament. Finding it impossible to take Rheims, where he had intended to be crowned, he marched for Burgundy, and concluded a truce with the duke for three years, the chief condition of which was his remaining neutral. While he was thus idly employed, a French fleet swept the channel and pillaged Winchelsea, filling the whole sea-coast with alarm. At length, eighty sail, under Sir John Paveley, were collected to meet them, but the French deemed it more prudent to retreat, and in revenge their adversaries plundered the small isle of Saints, on the coast of Bretagne. Yet more painful must it have been to the national pride to see Edward before the gates of Paris, though he effected little beyond burning the suburbs, when he was compelled by the weather to retreat upon Bretagne, and with a precipitation like that of a defeat. His way was marked by the dead bodies of men and horses, the victims of privation and fatigue, till at Chartres he was overtaken by one of the most dreadful storms ever witnessed. The wind was furious beyond all record, driving before it hailstones of unusual magnitude by the incessant glare of the lightning he saw hundreds around him perishing; a momentary fit of remorse prevailed, and springing from his saddle, he stretched his arms towards the cathedral, vowed he would oppose a peace no longer.
An armistice being concluded, the king returned to England. With no little difficulty, and after much negotiation, this truce was converted into a peace; but even when the terms had been fully settled, fresh disputes arose in their fulfilment, and John, who had been liberated on the faith of them, in a high spirit of chivalrous honour, returned to London a voluntary captive. There he was received by Edward with the respect due to his exalted conduct, and had a residence assigned to him in the Savoy. Unfortunately for both countries, he died before he could effect any thing of importance, though, for a time, his death made no change in the existing relations.
No sooner was the English monarch at peace with his old enemies, than he sought or found new wars in another quarter. Pedro the Fourth, of Castile, who had obtained and deserved the name of “the cruel,” being driven away by his subjects, applied to Edward for aid, and by his permission the young prince engaged to replace the exile on his throne. And faithfully he kept his word. Pedro’s adversary, Don Enrique, was defeated with great loss in a pitched battle, and as a necessary result the Castilian regained his crown, when he quite forgot all his promises to allies. Shattered in constitution, the prince returned to Bordeaux, and, to replenish his exhausted treasury, proposed to the states a hearth tax for the five following years; some of the provinces consented; the Count of Armagnac, and most of the lords at the foot of the Pyrenees, on the contrary, appealed from him to their superior lord, the French king, who, after temporising so long as he found it necessary, summoned the young prince to appear before him. This the latter promised to do, but at the head. of sixty-thousand men. His father, grown wiser, offered many concessions for the sake of peace; finding however, that all his efforts were fruitless, he sent over reinforcements to the Black Prince, and the old system of plunder recommenced, for Charles had forbidden his generals to hazard an engagement. The city of Limoges was particularly marked out for vengeance. Upon its surrender mercy was granted, except to the French knights forming the garrison, who with their backs to the wall, set their opponents at defiance. Delighted by such a signal display of valour, the prince granted to heroism what he refused to pity. This is the last time, however, that we shall meet with him in the field. By the advice of his physician he returned to England, where he lingered for six years in gloomy retirement.
The star of Edward seemed now to be rapidly setting. By the year 1734, England had lost all her transmarine possessions except Calais, Bourdeaux, Bayonne, and a few places in the Dordogne, and his subjects who had yielded everything to him in his prosperity, were now loud in expressing their discontent. The good parliament remonstrated with him, though in respectful terms, on his lavish expenditure, and while they did no more than venture to glance at the Duke of Lancaster, who had be come a particular object of their hatred, they openly impeached several of his favourites. The chamberlain, Lord Latimer, was expelled the council; Lord Nevil was deprived of all his offices; and Richard Lyons, William Elys, John Peeche, and Adam Bury, farmers of the customs, were thrown into prison. Against Alice Perrers, the king’s especial favourite, an especial ordinance was directed. But in the midst of these reforms, their best support, the Black Prince, died, and the Duke of Lancaster resuming his place in the administration, Sir Thomas de la Mare, the late speaker, and William of Wickham, the celebrated Bishop of Winchester, expiated with many others, the crime of patriotism either by imprisonment or confiscation.
The new parliament consisted chiefly of the duke’s creatures; still the court was unable to silence those of the preceding one, who demanded de la Mare’s liberation, or to satisfy the prelates who required that justice should be done to their colleague of Winchester. To intimidate the latter, the duke espoused the cause of Wycliffe; in consequence, fierce tumults arose, which were not suppressed till the Savoy had been gutted, the Marshalsea demolished, and many other acts of violence committed by the populace. From this time Edward himself lived in obscurity at Altham, in the society of Alice Perrers, growing daily weaker and weaker, till he died in the sixty-fifth year of his life, and the fifty-first of his reign, leaving behind him three sons and one daughter. In accomplishments and mental powers, Edward is said to have equalled any of his predecessors. As a general, his abilities were unquestionable; as a statesman, his ambition was constantly misdirected, and the objects he proposed to himself, and which would have been useless if carried, were no less constantly defeated. Still as good often comes out of evil, so his military expeditions, if they did not produce the ends he desired, were yet productive of great advantage to the country. By plunging him into debt, they compelled him to give up a host of feudal abuses as the price of supplies from his parliament, and though the statutes thus obtained were not always, or even often, observed, yet by the dint of frequent complaint and frequent concession, such grievances were in most eases lightened, and in a few removed. The claim of purveyance, for instance, was considerably modified; by the statute of treasons passed by “the blessed parliament” in 1351, the nature of that crime was more strictly defined, and the power which the judges had assumed, of creating constructive treasons was abolished; and the right of the parliament to meet at least once a year, was re-enacted and placed beyond cavil. It would exceed our limits to enter into the details of these assemblies as they then existed, but one curious fact can not be passed over without notice. Attorneys and barristers had been accustomed to get themselves returned knights of the shire, that they might introduce their clients’ eases among the petitions presented to the king in the name of the lower house. To correct this abuse, it was enacted that no practising lawyer should for the future be chosen knight of the shire.
The chief modes, in those days, of raising the supplies, were by a tallage on moveable property; by a duty on the exportation of wool and hides; by a duty, afterwards known by the name of tonnage and poundage, of two shillings on every ton of wine imported, and of sixpence on every pound of goods exported or imported, which was voted from year to year, on condition that the king should keep a fleet at sea for the protection of commerce; and by voluntary gifts from the clergy. if these were not sufficient, the occasional pawning of the crown jewels, the plunder of foreign lands, and the sums paid by prisoners in the way of ransom, seem to have made up the deficiency.
The duties of the military tenants of the crown, as they could be ascertained from their tenures, were not liable to be infringed upon. The liberties of the inferior classes being less defined, and their resentment less to be feared, the king purveyed men for his armies, with as little regard to right as he took provender and provisions when he needed them. Twice a year they were bound to appear completely armed before the constables of the hundred; at any time they might be called out; and though their services was by law confined to their respective counties, except in the case of invasion; that privilege was in reality but little regarded. When wanted to march into Scotland, or even into France, they were told it was better to fight the enemy abroad than to see the horrors of war transferred to their own soil. Statutes indeed, were made to restrain this abuse, but statutes were seldom found strong enough to curb the power of the monarch. In the same way he seized upon ships and sea men for his service, paying for the former at the usual rate of charges.
It was in this reign, about the year 1360, that Wycliffe first appears upon the scene, but as it was under Richard that he be came more especially an object of public notice, we shall for the sake of continuity reserve our account of him till the next chapter.