Anonymous

THE REIGN OF HENRY III.

Accession of the King—Renewal of the Great Charter—Messages of Conciliation—Battle of Lincoln—Destruction of the French Fleet—Departure of Louis—Reduction of Albemarle—Resumption of the Royal Castles—War with France—Characters of Richard of Cornwall and Henry III.—Fall of Hubert de Burgh—Peter des Roches—Henry is his own Minister—The House of Provence—The King's Marriage Articles—The Marriage and Entry into London—Influx of Foreigners—Papal Aggressions—Persecution of the Jews—Oppression of the Londoners—A Religious Ceremony.

Henry III., or, as he was more generally designated, Henry of Winchester, was only ten years of age when the death of his father called him to the throne. It was almost an empty honour, the kingdom being in a most distracted state. London and the southern counties acknowledged the authority of his rival Louis, to whom the King of Scotland and the Welsh prince had taken the oath of fealty as vassals.

In this position there were only two parties on whom the youthful monarch could rely for any effectual support: the first consisted of the barons and foreign mercenaries who had remained faithful to the late king; the second was the Papal See, which, since the degrading surrender of the crown by John, considered itself lord paramount of England, and in that capacity naturally exerted all its influence to secure the succession to the son of him who had bestowed upon it so rich a gift.

About ten days after the death of his father, Henry was conducted to the abbey church of Gloucester; and having taken the coronation oath, and sworn fealty to the reigning Pope, Honorius, was crowned by his legate Gualo and the Bishops of Winchester, Exeter, and Bath, who placed upon his head a simple circlet of gold, the regal crown having been lost with the rest of the royal treasures in the disastrous passage of the Wash.

Immediately after this ceremony a proclamation was issued, in which the boy-king lamented the dissensions between his father and the barons, which he professed his willingness to forget, and offered to his subjects full amnesty for the past, and their liberties, as secured by the Great Charter for the future. He also commanded the tenants of the crown to do homage to him for their possessions, and take the oath of allegiance. During a month the people were forbidden to appear in public without a white fillet round the head in honour of his coronation. The care of Henry's person was confided to the Earl of Pembroke, Earl Marshal of England, who was also named guardian of the kingdom. Well did this illustrious nobleman merit the confidence reposed in him. It was owing to his loyalty and energy that the foreigners were driven from the kingdom. The earl, in order that he might reconcile all orders in the state to the government of the new king, made him grant a fresh charter, which, though copied in most instances from the one extorted from John, contained several exceptions. The privilege of elections granted to the clergy was not confirmed, nor the liberty of withdrawing from the kingdom without the consent of the crown. In this omission we may perceive the germ of resistance to the supremacy of Rome. Even at a period when it was most necessary to conciliate its influence in favour of the young king, both the regent and the barons of the party were desirous of reserving the right of the crown to issue the congÉ d'Élire to the monks and chapters, as some check upon the encroachments of the Papacy. But the greatest change was the omission of the obligations to which John had subscribed, binding himself not to levy any aids or scutages, as they were termed, upon the nation without the consent of the Great Council; the article was even pronounced severe, and was expressly left to future deliberation. This charter was confirmed by the king in the following year, and several additional articles added, to prevent the oppression of the sheriffs. The forest laws were modified; those forests which had been enclosed since the reign of Henry II. were thrown open; offences against the forest laws were declared no longer capital, but punished by fine and imprisonment. These last ameliorations were made in a separate charter.

Whilst the Earl of Pembroke, by these wise proceedings, gave so much satisfaction to the nation in general, he made great personal efforts to recall the revolted barons to their allegiance by writing in the king's name to each. In his letters he reminded them that whatever cause of offence John might have given them, his son, who had succeeded to the crown, inherited neither his principles nor resentments; that he was the lineal heir of their ancient kings; and pointed out how desperate was the expedient they had employed in calling in a foreign potentate—an expedient which, happily for them and the nation, had failed of success. It was, he reminded them, still in their power, by a speedy return to their duty, to restore the independence of the kingdom, and those liberties for which they had so zealously contended; adding that, as all their past offences were now buried in oblivion, they ought, on their part, to show equal magnanimity, and forget their complaints against their late sovereign, who, if he had been in any way blamable in his conduct, had left to his successor the salutary warning to avoid the paths which had led to such fatal and dangerous extremities. The considerations so temperately yet strongly urged, enforced by the high character for honour and consistency which Pembroke had ever maintained, had great influence with the barons, many of whom began secretly to negotiate with him, whilst others returned openly to their allegiance.

The suspicion which Louis discovered of their fidelity forwarded this general inclining towards the king; and when at last he refused the government of the castle of Hertford to Robert Fitz-Walter, one of his most faithful adherents, who claimed that fortress as his property, they plainly saw that the English nobility were to be systematically excluded from every position of trust, and that his own countrymen and foreigners engrossed all the confidence and affection of their new sovereign.

The excommunication, too, which the legate of the Pope had pronounced against all the adherents of Louis, was not without effect. Men were easily convinced of the impiety of a cause which it was their interest to abandon.

Louis, who, on the death of John, had deemed his triumph certain, found, on the contrary, that that event had given an incurable wound to his cause. On his return from France, where he had been to recruit his forces, he discovered his party among the English barons much weakened. The Earls of Salisbury, Arundel, and Warrenne, together with William Marshal, eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke, had returned to their natural allegiance, and the nobles who remained were only waiting an occasion to follow their example.

The regent felt himself so much strengthened by these accessions to the royal cause, that he resolved no longer to remain on the defensive, and at once proceeded to invest Mountsorrel; but on the approach of the Count de la Perche with the French army, he raised the siege, his forces not being sufficient to oppose him.

Elated with this success, the count marched to Lincoln, and being admitted within the walls, proceeded at once to attack the castle, which he soon reduced to great extremity. Fully sensible of the importance of relieving the place, the gallant Pembroke summoned all his forces from every quarter of the kingdom which owned the authority of Henry; and with such alacrity were his orders obeyed, that in a short time he marched upon Lincoln with an army superior in numbers to the French, who, in their turn, shut themselves within the walls. The earl reinforced the garrison, which made a vigorous assault upon the besiegers, whilst with his own army he, at the same time, attacked the town, which the English entered, sword in hand, bearing down all opposition. Lincoln was given up to pillage, the French being totally defeated.

It is singular that the only persons slain were the Count de la Perche and two of his officers, but many of the principal leaders and upwards of 400 knights were taken prisoners; and yet this battle, if it may be considered worthy of the name, decided the fate of the kingdom.

Louis heard of this event, so fatal to his ambitious projects, while engaged in the siege of Dover, which, under the command of Hubert de Burgh, still held out against him, and instantly retreated to London, the stronghold of his party. Shortly after his arrival, intelligence was brought him of a fresh disaster, which completely put an end to his hopes of the conquest of England.

His consort, Blanche of Castile, had levied powerful reinforcements in France, which she had embarked in eighty large vessels, besides galleys and smaller ships, under the command of a noted pirate named Eustace the Monk.

To meet this formidable danger, Hubert de Burgh, the justiciary, collected forty sail from the Cinque Ports, and set out to sea to meet the enemy. So inferior was his force that several knights refused to follow him, alleging as a reason, or rather an excuse for their cowardice, that they were unacquainted with naval warfare, and bound only to fight on land by the tenure of their lands. It was on this occasion that Hubert executed one of those extraordinary feats which only true genius can conceive. On coming in sight of the French fleet, he commanded his own ships to sail past them, as if he intended to surprise Calais. The enemy saw him pass them with shouts of derision. To their astonishment, however, the English fleet suddenly tacked, and, with the wind in their favour, bore down upon them in a line on the rear. The battle began with volleys of arrows, which, most probably, did little execution on either side. It was when they came in close contact that the superiority of the British sailors was shown. With chains and hooks they lashed their vessels to those of the enemy, then scattered clouds of quicklime in the air, which the wind carried in the eyes of the French, half blinding them, and rendered their ships unmanageable by cutting the rigging with their axes. The struggle was not a long one. The French, unused to this desperate mode of fighting, made but a feeble resistance; and of their immense fleet fifteen vessels only escaped, the rest being either sunken or taken.

After this signal triumph, the barons who still adhered to the cause of Louis hastened to make their peace, in order to prevent the attainders which longer resistance might have brought upon them; and the French prince, seeing that his affairs were desperate, began to feel anxious for the safety of his person, and most desirous of withdrawing from a contest where everything wore a hostile aspect to him. He concluded a treaty with the Earl of Pembroke, by which he promised to quit the kingdom, merely stipulating for an indemnity to the adherents who remained faithful to him, a restitution of their honours and fortunes, as well as the enjoyment of those liberties which had been granted in the late charter to the rest of the nation. Thus, owing to the great prudence and loyalty of the regent, was ended a civil war which at one time threatened to subjugate England to a foreign yoke.

After the expulsion of the French, the prudence and equity of the protector's subsequent conduct contributed to cure entirely those wounds which had been made by intestine discord. He received the rebellious barons into favour, observed strictly the terms of peace which he had granted them; restored them to their possessions; and endeavoured, by an equal behaviour, to bury all past animosities in perpetual oblivion. The clergy alone, who had adhered to Louis, were sufferers in this revolution. As they had rebelled against their spiritual sovereign, by disregarding the interdict and excommunication, it was not in Pembroke's power to make any stipulations in their favour; and Gualo, the legate, prepared to take vengeance on them for their disobedience. Many of them were deposed, many suspended, some banished; and all who escaped punishment made atonement for their offence by paying large sums to the legate, who amassed an immense treasure by this expedient.

The Earl of Pembroke died in 1219, soon after the pacification which had been secured by his wisdom and valour; and he was succeeded in the government by Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester, and Hubert de Burgh, the justiciary. The counsels of the latter were chiefly followed; and had he possessed equal authority in the kingdom with Pembroke, he seemed to be in every way worthy of filling the place of that virtuous nobleman. But the licentious and powerful barons, who had once broken the reins of subjection to their prince, and had obtained by violence an enlargement of their liberties and independence, could ill be restrained by laws under a minority; and the people, no less than the king, suffered from their outrages and disorders. They retained by force the royal castles, which they had seized during the past convulsions, or which had been committed to their custody by the protector; they usurped the king's demesnes; they oppressed their vassals; they infested their weaker neighbours; they invited all disorderly people to enter in their retinue, and to live upon their lands; and they gave them protection in all their robberies and extortions.

No one was more infamous for these violent and illegal practices than the Earl of Albemarle; who, though he had early returned to his duty, and had been serviceable in expelling the French, augmented to the utmost the general disorder, and committed outrages in all the counties of the north. In order to reduce him to obedience, Hubert seized an opportunity of getting possession of Rockingham Castle, which Albemarle had garrisoned with his licentious retinue; but this nobleman, instead of submitting, entered into a secret confederacy with Falkes de BreautÉ, and other barons, fortified the castle of Beham for his defence, and made himself master of that of Fotheringay. Pandulph, who had been re-appointed legate, showed great activity in the suppression of this rebellion. With the consent of eleven bishops, he pronounced sentence of excommunication against Albemarle and his adherents; an army was levied; a scutage of ten shillings—a knight's fee—was imposed on all the military tenants. Albemarle's adherents, terrified by the vigour of these proceedings, gradually deserted him, and he himself was reduced to sue for mercy. But such was his influence, and the unsettled state of the nation, that he not only received a free pardon, but was restored to his whole estate. Shortly afterwards (1221) Stephen Langton obtained the recall of Pandulph to Rome, and for eight years Hubert de Burgh was at the head of affairs.

The state of weakness into which the crown had fallen made it imperative for the ministers to use every exertion for the preservation of what remained of the royal prerogative, as well as to ensure the public liberties. Hubert applied to the Pope, the lord paramount of England, to issue a bull by which Henry was declared of age and entitled to govern. It was granted, and the justiciary resigned into the hands of the youthful sovereign the important fortresses of the Tower of London and Dover Castle, which had been committed to his custody, and at the same time called upon those barons who held similar trusts to imitate his example.

The nobles refused compliance; and the Earls of Chester and Albemarle, John de Lacy, Brian de L'Isle, and William de Cautel even entered into a conspiracy to surprise London, and assembled in arms at Waltham with that purpose; but finding the king prepared to meet them, they at last desisted from their intention. When summoned to appear at court to answer for their conduct, the rebels appeared, and not only confessed their design, but told Henry that, though they had no bad intentions against his person, they were determined to remove the justiciary, Hubert de Burgh, from his office. A second time they met in arms at Leicester with the same intention; but the primate and bishops, finding everything tending towards civil war, interposed their authority, and menaced them with excommunication if they persisted in detaining the king's castles. This threat prevailed, and most of the fortresses were surrendered. The barons complained bitterly that the justiciary's castle was soon afterwards restored to him, whilst their castles were retained. De Burgh seized the opportunity to ruin Falkes de BreautÉ. Accused of laying hands on one of the lords justices, he was besieged and taken prisoner at Bedford and condemned to perpetual exile (1224).

DEFEAT OF FRENCH FLEET IN ENGLISH CHANNEL.

Notwithstanding the disturbed state of his kingdom, Henry found himself obliged to carry on war against France, and for this purpose employed the subsidy of a fifteenth which had been granted him. His former rival, now king of that country under the title of Louis VIII., instead of complying with Henry's claim for Normandy, which he had promised to restore, entered Poitou, took La Rochelle, after an obstinate siege, and seemed determined to expel the English from such provinces as remained to them in France. The king sent over his uncle, the Earl of Salisbury, and his brother, Prince Richard, whom he had created Earl of Cornwall. They succeeded in arresting the progress of Louis and retained the Gascon vassals in their allegiance, but no great action was fought on either side. Poitou, however, remained French. The Earl of Cornwall, after remaining two years in Guienne, returned to England.

This prince was nowise turbulent or factious in his disposition: his ruling passion was to amass money, in which he succeeded so well as to become the richest person in Christendom; yet his attention to gain threw him sometimes into acts of violence, and gave great trouble to the government. There was a manor, which had formerly belonged to the earldom of Cornwall, but had been granted to Waleran de Ties before Richard had been invested with that dignity, and while the earldom remained in the crown. Richard claimed this manor, and expelled the proprietor by force; Waleran complained. The king ordered his brother to do justice to the man, and restore him to his rights; the earl said that he would not submit to these orders till the cause should be decided against him by the judgment of his peers. Henry replied that it was first necessary to reinstate Waleran in possession before the cause could be tried, and reiterated his orders to the earl. We may judge of the state of the government, when this affair had nearly produced a civil war. The Earl of Cornwall, finding Henry peremptory in his commands, associated himself with the young Earl of Pembroke, who had married his sister, and who was displeased on account of the king's requiring him to deliver up some royal castles which were in his custody. These two malcontents took into the confederacy the Earls of Chester, Warrenne, Gloucester, Hereford, Warwick, and Ferrers, who were all disgusted on a like account. They assembled an army, which the king had not the power or courage to resist; and he was obliged to give his brother satisfaction by grants of much greater importance than the manor, which had been the first ground of the quarrel.

The character of the king, as he grew to man's estate, became every day better known, and he was found in every respect unqualified for maintaining a proper sway among those turbulent barons whom the feudal constitution subjected to his authority. Gentle, humane, and merciful even to a fault, he seems to have been steady in no other circumstance of his character, but to have received every impression from those who surrounded him, and whom he loved, for the time, with the most imprudent and most unreserved affection. Without activity or vigour, he was unfit to conduct war; without policy or art, he was ill suited to maintain peace; his resentments, though hasty and violent, were not dreaded, while he was found to drop them with such facility; his friendships were little valued, because they were neither derived from choice nor maintained with constancy. His true place was in a proper pageant of state in a regular monarchy, where his ministers could have conducted all affairs in his name; but he was too feeble in those disorderly times to sway a sceptre, whose weight depended entirely on the firmness of the hand which held it. The ablest and most virtuous monitor that ever Henry possessed was Hubert de Burgh, a man who had been faithful to the crown in the most difficult and dangerous times, and yet showed no desire, even when at the height of power, to enslave or oppress the people. He was aided in his patriotic government by Stephen Langton, whose death in 1228 was a grave blow to the national party.

Hubert, while he enjoyed his authority, had an entire ascendency over Henry, and was loaded with honours and favours beyond any other subject. Besides acquiring the property of many castles and manors, he married the eldest sister of the King of Scots, was created Earl of Kent, and, by an unusual concession, was made chief justiciary of England for life; yet Henry, in a sudden caprice, threw off this faithful minister, and exposed him to the persecutions of his enemies (1232). Among other frivolous crimes objected to him, he was accused of gaining the king's affections by enchantment, and of purloining from the royal treasury a gem, which had the virtue to render the wearer invulnerable, and of sending this valuable curiosity to the Prince of Wales. The nobility, who hated Hubert on account of his zeal in asserting the rights and restoring the possessions of the crown, no sooner saw the opportunity favourable, than they inflamed the king's animosity against him, and pushed him to seek the total ruin of his minister. Hubert took sanctuary in a church; but the king ordered him to be dragged from thence. He recalled those orders; he afterwards renewed them. He was obliged by the clergy to restore Hubert to the sanctuary. He constrained him soon after to surrender himself prisoner, and confined him in the castle of Devizes. In 1234 Hubert was again restored to favour, but never showed any inclination to reinstate himself in power and authority.

Hubert's successor in the government of the kingdom and the favour of the king was his rival, Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester, a Poitevin by birth—a prelate who had been greatly favoured by John, and was no less distinguished by his arbitrary principles than by his great courage and abilities. He had been nominated justiciary and regent of England by King John, during an expedition which that monarch made into France; and there is little doubt that his illegal and oppressive administration was one of the causes of that combination amongst the barons which finally extorted from the crown the Great Charter, and laid the foundation of the English constitution. Henry, though incapable, from the weakness of his character, of pursuing the same violent course as his father had done, inherited all his arbitrary principles, and, by the advice of his new minister, invited over to England a great number of Poitevins and other foreigners, upon whom he conferred offices of considerable trust, as a means of counterbalancing the power of his nobility. Every post was confided to these strangers, who exhausted the revenues of the crown and invaded the rights of the people, till their insolence, which was even more offensive than their power, drew on them the hatred and envy of all classes of men throughout the kingdom. In this crisis, the barons acted in a manner worthy of the descendants of those who had wrung the charter of English freedom from the hands of the tyrant John. Their first act of open opposition to this odious ministry was to withdraw in a body from court, under pretence that they were exposed to danger from the machinations of these foreigners. When again summoned to attend, they demanded that the king should dismiss them, otherwise, they boldly declared, they would drive both him and them out of the kingdom, and place the crown upon the head of one more worthy to wear it. And when at last they attended an assembly at Westminster, it was so well attended that they seemed in a condition to prescribe laws both to the king and minister. Peter des Roches had, however, in the meantime found means of sowing dissension amongst them, and succeeded in bringing over to his party the Earls of Cornwall, Lincoln, and Chester. The patriot barons were disconcerted in their measures. Doubt crept in amongst them; they no longer acted in unity. Richard, the Earl Marshal, who had succeeded to that dignity on the death of his brother William, retired into Wales, from whence he withdrew to Ireland, where he was barbarously murdered by the contrivance of the Bishop of Winchester. The estates of the more obnoxious barons were confiscated without any legal sentence or trial by the peers, and bestowed with profuse liberality upon the Poitevins. Both sides now appealed to arms, and civil war began, in which the royal troops were worsted. Peter had even the insolence to say that the barons of England must not presume to put themselves on an equality with the barons of France, or assume the same liberties and privileges, the king of the former country having a more absolute power than the latter. In the opposition of the nobility, and the discontent of the people, we may trace the slow but gradual growth of civil liberty. True, the struggle for absolute power was frequently renewed, and sometimes with success, but that success was only temporary. The nation never really gave way; and once more the church came to the aid of the nation. Edmund, the primate, came to court, attended by many other prelates, and represented to the king the injustice of the measures pursued by Peter des Roches, the discontent and sufferings of the people, the ruin of his affairs, and after demanding the dismission of the obnoxious minister, threatened him with excommunication in the event of a refusal. Henry, who knew that in the event of the primate carrying his threat into execution the entire nation would side against him, was compelled to submit; the foreigners were banished from the kingdom, and the English restored to their places in the council.

The change for the better, however, was not of long continuance, as Henry became his own minister, and proved incapable of government. During the years which preceded the marriage of the king much discontent prevailed in England on account of the heavy taxes which continued to be imposed, although the refractory barons were subdued and the mercenary troops dismissed. The hostility of the king to the Great Charter, which he had so solemnly confirmed, excited the indignation of the people. The forest charter, for which the nation had paid one-fifteenth on all movables—a proof how eagerly they desired it—was scarcely more respected.

The house with which the king sought alliance was, undoubtedly, one of the most illustrious in Europe. Its remote ancestors were the Counts of Barcelona; but it was by Raymond Berenger, the first Count, or, as he is sometimes called, King of Provence, that the foundation of its greatness was laid. After rendering himself celebrated both as a warrior and a statesman, he died in 1131, and his estates were now governed by his great-grandson, Raymond III. Provence was distinguished very early for the honourable encouragement she gave to literature, especially the art of poetry, and so generally were her claims to superiority in this respect admitted, that ProvenÇal became the popular term to distinguish the poetry of the langue d'oc from that of the langue d'oil. Richly, if we may judge from its effects, did the Counts of Provence recompense the poets of their country; for so munificent were their gifts to the troubadours who sought their court at Arles, that they gradually became impoverished. The poets have invented a singular legend to account for the subsequent wealth of Raymond. It was the least they could do to recompense him for his extravagant liberality in their favour; and a century later the legend found a place in that receptacle of religious tales and romances known as the "Gesta Romanorum." When Raymond, driven to despair by the sight of his empty coffers, was puzzling his brains with schemes for refilling them, a pilgrim, "de fort bonne mine,"[41] says the AbbÉ de Ruffi, to whom we are indebted for the story, came to the palace on his return from a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James. This stranger, after partaking of the hospitality of the count for some days, inquired into the value of his lands, the state of his finances, and finally offered to free him from every difficulty in a short time, provided that he was placed in absolute superintendence of all his affairs. To this proposal Raymond readily acceded, and the unknown pilgrim was forthwith placed in supreme authority over the household. And well did the stranger perform his promise: ere long, Raymond was freed from his embarrassments, and in a few years his coffers overflowed with wealth. But now gratitude began to fade from the fickle mind of the count, and he listened to the suspicious hints of his servants; until, altogether forgetful of the great benefits he had received at the hands of the unknown pilgrim, he commanded him to render up his accounts. The pilgrim made no objection; he exhibited his statements, and proved the integrity of his conduct so fully, that even his bitterest enemies could not answer a word. He then resumed his staff, scrip, and mantle, and, in despite of every entreaty of the repentant count, disappeared. Long, strict, and minute search was made after him, but he was never heard of more.

The visit of this friendly pilgrim, we may suppose, was subsequent to the marriage of Raymond's daughter Eleanor, since Matthew Paris represents him as an "illustrious and valiant man"; but, through continual wars, almost all he had had vanished from his treasury. The proposal, therefore, of the King of England was peculiarly grateful, both to Raymond and to his wife, Beatrice of Savoy, whose three brothers looked anxiously, even from the commencement of their niece's marriage treaty, to the broad lands and rich church preferment which they anticipated they should soon possess in wealthy but ill-governed England. It was, therefore, with eager joy that the proposal of Henry was accepted by the needy count; and with equally eager joy, judging from his haste, did the king transmit his instructions for the marriage articles. In these, he assigns to Eleanor, as dower, "Those cities, lands, and tenements, which it has been customary for other kings, our predecessors, to assign to other queens." He then proceeds to state, that if his sister Isabel should survive him, and should have recovered her dower, "then his procurators shall assign to Eleanor these towns: Gloster, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, and the villages of Wych, Basingstoke, Andover, Chiltham, Gumester, Clyne, Kingston, Ospringe, and Ludingland, to hold meanwhile;" and after Isabel's death, Eleanor in that case taking the usual dower, these towns should revert to the king. In respect of Eleanor's portion, which is stated to be 20,000 marks, he directs his embassy to agree with the count that the sum shall not be less than that promised; and in a subsequent instrument he grants full power to the procurators to receive it. In the secret instructions which immediately follow, Henry seems to have apprehended, that if he pressed the count for immediate payment of his daughter's portion, he might lose his chance of obtaining a wife. He therefore directs, that if his procurators cannot fulfil his commands to the very letter, they shall "over and above every power contained in the aforesaid letters, without the payment of the money appropriated for us, in whatever way ye can, take her with you, and safely and securely bring her to us in England." The youthful princess was accordingly placed in the hands of the ambassadors, and, amidst the rejoicings of the whole kingdom of Provence, she set forth, accompanied by a gallant cavalcade, in which were more than three hundred ladies on horseback. Her route lay through Navarre and France.

When Eleanor arrived on the frontier of France, she received a hospitable welcome from the queen dowager, and her son, who a short time previously had married an elder sister of the bride. The marriage train finally reached Dover, from whence it proceeded to Canterbury, where Henry awaited their coming. It was in that ancient city that the union took place, the service being performed by the Archbishop Edmund and the prelates who accompanied Eleanor. From Canterbury the newly-wedded pair set out for London, attended by a splendid array of nobles, prelates, knights, and ladies. On the 20th of January, being the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, Eleanor was crowned at Westminster with great splendour.

The historian, Matthew Paris, describes both the gallant array of the royal procession, and the gorgeous appearance which, even at that early period, was made by the city of London, with a minuteness which entitles him to the gratitude of every lover of antiquity:—

"There had assembled together so great a number of the nobility of both sexes, so great a number of religious orders, so great a concourse of the populace, and so great a variety of players, that London could scarcely contain them in her capacious bosom. Therefore was the city adorned with silk hangings, and with banners, crowns, palls, tapers, and lamps, and with certain marvellous ingenuities and devices; all the streets being cleaned from dirt, mud, sticks, and everything offensive.

"The citizens of London going to meet the king and queen, ornamented and trapped and wondrously sported their swift horses; and on the same day they went from the city to Westminster, that they might discharge the service of butler to the king in his coronation, which is acknowledged to belong to them of ancient right.

"They went in well-marshalled array, adorned in silken vestments, wrapped in gold-woven mantles, with fancifully-devised garments, sitting on valuable horses, refulgent with new bits and saddles: and they bore three hundred and sixty gold and silver cups, the King's trumpeters going before and sounding their trumpets; so that so wonderful a novelty produced a laudable astonishment in the spectators."

The worthy monk of St. Albans dilates with great gusto upon the splendour of the feast, and the order of the service of the different vassals of the crown, many of whom are called upon at a coronation to perform certain peculiar services down to the present day. He also remarks, with great complacency, that the abbot of his own convent took precedence of every other abbot in England at the dinner.

The following further and probably more accurate account is extracted from the City records (which are deeply interesting, as offering the earliest account of the ceremonies used at the coronation of a queen consort of England):

"In the twentieth year of the reign of King Henry, son of King John, Queen Eleanor, daughter of the Count of Provence, was crowned at Westminster, on the Sunday before the Purification, the King wearing his crown, and the bishops assisting. And these served in order in that most elegant and unheard-of feast:—the bishop of Chichester, the chancellor, with the cup of precious stones, which was one of the ancient regalia of the king, clothed in his pontificals, preceded the king, who was clad in royal attire, and wearing the crown. Hugh de Pateshall walked before with the patine, clothed in a dalmatica; and the Earls of Chester, Lincoln, and Warren, bearing the swords, preceded him. But the two renowned knights, Sir Richard Siward and Sir Nicholas de Molis, carried the two royal sceptres before the king; and the square purple cloth of silk, which was supported upon four silver lances, with four little bells of silver gilt, held over the king wherever he walked, was carried by the barons of the Cinque Ports; four being assigned to each lance, from the diversity of ports, that one port should not seem to be preferred before the other. The same in like manner bore a cloth of silk over the queen, walking behind the king, which said cloths they claimed to be theirs by right, and obtained them. And William de Beauchamp of Bedford, who had the office of almoner from times of old, found the striped cloth, or burel, which was laid down under the king's feet as he went from the hall as far as the pulpit of the church of Westminster; and that part of the cloth that was within the church always fell to the sexton, in whatever church the king was crowned; and all that was without the church was distributed among the poor, by the hands of William the almoner.

"At the king's table, on the right hand of the king, sat the archbishops, bishops, and certain abbots, who wished to be privileged at table; and on the left hand sat the earls, and some barons, although very few; but none claimed their seats by any right. And on that day the office of seneschal was served by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, to whom the office by right belonged; and the office of the napery was that day served by Henry of Hastings, whose right it was of old to serve.

"Walter de Beauchamp, of Hammerlegh, laid the salt-cellar and the knives, and, after the banquet was at an end, received them as his fee.

"The Earl Warren served the office of butler in the stead of Hugh de Albini, Earl of Arundel; and under him was Michael Belot, whose right it was, as secondary, to hold the cup well replenished with wine to the Earl of Arundel, to be presented by that nobleman to the king when he might require it. Andrew Benkerel, who served the office of Mayor of London from 1231 to 1237, was at Westminster to serve in the butlery, with the 360 gold and silver cups, because the city of London is held to be the assistant to the chief butler, as the city of Winchester is represented in the same way in the kitchen to assist the high steward.

"The mayor, it seems, claimed Michael Belot's place of standing before the king, but was repulsed by Henry, who decided that the former should serve him.

"After the banquet the earl butler had the king's cup as his fee, and his assistant the earl's robe as his right.

"William de Beauchamp that day served the office of almoner, and had entire jurisdiction relative to the disputes and offences of the poor and lepers: so that, if one leper struck another with a knife, he could adjudge him to be burnt.

"After the banquet was finished, he received, as his right, the silver dish for alms that stood before the king; and he claimed to have one tun of wine in right of alms; and on that day the great chamberlain served the water, as well before as after the banquet—namely, Hugh de Vere, Earl of Oxford; and he received as his right, the basins and the towels wherewith he served. Gilbert, earl marshal, Earl of Strigul, served the office of the marshalsea; and it was his duty to appease tumults in the king's house, to give liveries to them, and to guard the entrances to the king's hall; and he received from every baron who was knighted by the king, and from every earl on that day, a palfrey with a saddle. The head cook of the royal kitchen always, at the coronation, received the steward's robe as his right; and of the aforesaid offices none claimed to themselves the right in the queen's house, except G. de Stamford, who said that he, in right of his predecessors, ought to be chamberlain to the queen and door-keeper of her chamber on that day, which he there obtained; and had, as his right, all the queen's furniture, as belonged to the chamberlain.... And the cloth which hung behind the king at table was claimed on the one side by the door-keepers, and on the other by the scullions, for themselves."

Such were the ceremonies which graced the marriage of Henry and Eleanor of Provence. The king found a party far more difficult to manage than the Holy See, in his barons; for, having summoned a parliament to assemble at the Tower of London, they unanimously refused to attend, alleging as a reason that, surrounded as the king was with foreign and inimical counsellors, they could not with safety trust themselves in so strong and well-garrisoned a fortress.

This excuse marks not only the great unpopularity of Henry, but the utter contempt into which his character for bad faith had fallen. It was in vain that he alternately threatened and remonstrated—the barons continued firm; and prudence prevailing over his self-will, he was obliged to yield the point, and returning to his palace at Westminster, held the parliament there.

Never did the church of Rome proceed with so little prudence, show such utter disregard of everything like justice, as during the reign of the obsequious Henry. The Pontiff, not content with the enormous sums of money which, under various pretences, he had drained from the kingdom, had the assurance to demand that 300 Italians should be preferred to English benefices. In vain did the primate, Edmund Rich, Archbishop of Canterbury, protest against the iniquitous measure; his patriotism called forth the resentment both of the king and the Pope. Wearied with the contest, he retired at last, a voluntary exile, to Pontigny, where he died.

Never was a system calculated to alienate the affections of a people from the Church more perseveringly pursued than by the court of Rome; it was that of the leech draining the life-blood of the nation on which it had fastened. Men began to question a religious system which manifested itself only in acts of injustice and oppression. In the universal condemnation of the grasping policy of the Pontiff, the seeds were sown which slowly but steadily ripened in the hearts of all who possessed the least sense of dignity and national independence.

Little, however, was the growing disaffection of his subjects heeded by Henry, exulting in the protection of the Holy See, which found in him a vassal worthy of her pretensions. He fasted both during Lent and on every Saturday throughout the year, and feasted right royally both at Easter and Christmas; keeping the festival of St. Edward most religiously, passing the whole night in the church, clothed in white.

But these observances could neither fill his exhausted exchequer nor conciliate the good will of the nation. The people murmured, the nobles were loud in their complaints; but Henry pertinaciously adhered to his foreign counsellors, and invited over many of the queen's relations, on whom he conferred both estates and benefices. The queen's uncles received enormous fortunes. William of Savoy was given the property of Richmond in Yorkshire, and was about to become bishop of Winchester, when he died suddenly. His bishopric and estates, to which were added the towns of Pevensey and Hastings, were handed on to Peter of Savoy. A third uncle, Boniface of Savoy, succeeded Edmund Rich as archbishop of Canterbury. In 1243, we find in the "Foedera" a charter respecting Eleanor's dower, from which it appears that the appropriated dower of the Queens of England was not even at this period assigned her. In this she is assigned the town and castle of Gloucester, the cities of Worcester and Bath, the manors of Clyne and Chiltham; and instead of the manors assigned by the first charter, the whole county of Chester, together with Newcastle-under-Lyme, is granted.

This year Eleanor's mother visited England, for the purpose of bringing Sanchia, her third daughter, who was affianced to the king's brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall. The marriage was celebrated with much splendour; the king directing that the whole way from London Bridge to Westminster should be hung with tapestry and other ornaments.

But while Henry thus lavished gifts on his queen's relations, he duly, according to orthodox practice, mulcted the unfortunate Jews. During the same year writs were forwarded to the sheriffs of each county, directing them to return before Henry at Worcester, upon Quinquagesima Sunday, the names of six of the richest Jews from each large town and two from every small one, "to treat with him for their mutual benefit." This assembly, which has been called the "Jews' Parliament," soon discovered that the monarch's care for his own benefit absorbed all consideration for theirs. He informed them that they must raise him no less a sum than 20,000 marks, not less than £200,000 at the present value of money. When the Jews expressed their astonishment at the enormous amount demanded, all liberty of remonstrance or discussion was denied them; they were told to return to their homes again, and have one-half of the required sum ready by Midsummer, and the remaining half by Michaelmas. The account of this iniquitous act of oppression is taken from Dr. Tovey's "Judaica Anglia," and is but one of many instances of the cruel rapacity exercised on this unfortunate race. As, during the same year, Raymond, the queen's father, received a gratification of 4,000 marks, there is little doubt that a portion of the spoil obtained so dishonestly enabled the king to gratify the avarice of his father-in-law.

In his oppression of the Jews Henry resembled his father. On two occasions during his reign the absurd charge of crucifying a Christian child was brought against them; and so strongly were the superstitious feelings of the nation excited, that many of the richest Israelites fled, when, as a matter of course, the king seized all their property. In Lincoln eighty of the wealthiest Jews were hanged, and sixty-three sent prisoners to the Tower, to undergo a similar fate. Several appear to have been marked out for particular spoliation. Aaron of York, whom Scott doubtless had in view when he wrote "Ivanhoe," declared to Matthew Paris that no less than 30,000 marks had been extorted from him in seven years, besides a gift of 200 to the queen.

Towards London the hostility of Henry was strongly marked, and on various "right royal" pretexts he grievously mulcted the citizens; while his cruel execution of Constantine Fitz-Arnulph, whose only crime seems to have been opposition to the overbearing conduct of the Abbot of Westminster, encouraged an equal hostility in the hearts of the citizens; and from henceforward they determinedly took their place in the ranks of the king's enemies. The whole account may be seen in Stowe; and when we read that this unfortunate citizen offered 15,000 marks for his life, we have strong proof of Henry's hatred to London, which could urge so mercenary and so needy a monarch to reject such a ransom. Ere long, the citizens obtained a marked triumph. The king, reduced almost to beggary by the swarms of foreign adventurers who grew rich upon his bounty, was compelled to pledge the crown jewels. In vain did he offer them to wealthy noble, or rich Italian merchant; none could buy: it was the citizens of London who paid down the stipulated sum; and Henry saw the crown jewels pass into the hands of these, the most detested of his subjects.

Matthew Paris has left us a singular account of a ceremony which took place in 1247, when Henry received from the patriarch of Jerusalem a relic which he accepted with unquestioned faith. The gift consisted of a portion of the blood of Christ. On its arrival, the king commanded all the clergy of London and Westminster to attend with crosses, banners, and tapers at St. Paul's, where he himself repaired, and taking from the treasury the crystal vase which contained the supposed treasure, "with all honour, reverence, and fear, bore it upon its stand, walking on foot, in mean attire—that is to say, in a cloak made of coarse cloth, without a hood—to the church of Westminster.

"The pious monarch," continues the chronicler, "did not cease to carry it in both hands, through all the rugged and miry way, keeping his eyes constantly fixed upon it, or elevating it devoutly towards heaven."

Henry, however, had a canopy held over him, supported by four lances; and an attendant on either hand, guiding him by the arms lest he should stumble. When he arrived at Westminster, he was met by the whole convent at the church door; but not even then did the king relinquish his precious burden: he went round the church, the chapels, and the adjoining court, and at length presented the vase and its contents "to God and the church of St. Peter." Mass was then sung; and the Bishop of Norwich, ascending the pulpit, delivered a sermon to the people, extolling the value of the relic, lauding the great devotion of the king, and anathematising all those who hinted doubts of its genuineness. This memorable day was closed by the king's feasting sumptuously and conferring knighthood on his half-brother, William de Valence; and the well-pleased monk of St. Albans, who was present, records the gratifying circumstance that Henry, seeing him, called him, and prayed him "expressly and fully to record all these things in a well-written book."