Anonymous

THE REIGN OF HENRY III. (concluded).

The King's Misfortunes Abroad and Exactions at Home—Ambition and Rapacity of the Church of Rome—The Council of Lyons—The Kingdom of Sicily—Henry Accepts the Crown for his Son—Consequent Extortions—Richard becomes King of the Romans—Disputes between the King and the Barons—Simon de Montfort—He becomes Leader of the National Party—The Mad Parliament and the Provisions of Oxford—Banishment of Aliens—Government of the Barons—Peace with France—Henry is Absolved from the Provisions of Oxford—The Barons Oppose Him—Outbreak of Hostilities—The Award of Amiens—The Battle of Lewes—The Mise of Lewes—Supremacy of Leicester—The Exiles assemble at Damme—The Parliament of 1265—Escape of Prince Edward—Battle of Evesham and Death of De Montfort—Continuance of the Rebellion—The Dictum de Kenilworth—Parliament of Marlborough—Prince Edward goes on Crusade—Deaths of Henry d'Almaine, Richard of Cornwall, and the King—Character of Henry.

Henry's bounty and profuse liberality to his foreign relations, his friends and favourites, might have appeared less intolerable to his subjects had anything been done for the honour of the nation. But the crown was so utterly subservient to the See of Rome, that it fell into contempt and well-deserved hatred. The regal vassal appeared to have no will but that of the Pontiff, who (as was to be expected) was not slow to abuse Henry's weakness.

It is true that the king, in 1242, declared war against Louis IX. of France, and undertook an expedition into Gascony at the earnest solicitation of the Count de la Marche, who promised to support him with all his force. He was unsuccessful in his attempts against that great monarch, was compelled to avoid destruction at Taillebourg by concluding an armistice, was deserted by his allies, lost what remained to him of Poitou, and was obliged to return, with loss of honour, into England. The Gascon nobility were attached to the English government because the distance of their sovereign allowed them to remain in a state of almost total independence; and they claimed, some time after, Henry's protection against an invasion which the King of Castile made upon their territory. Henry returned into Gascony, and was more successful in this expedition, but he thereby involved himself and his nobility in enormous debt, which both increased their discontents and exposed him to greater danger from their enterprises.

Want of economy and an ill-judged liberality were Henry's great defects; and his debts, even before this expedition, had become so troublesome, that he sold all his plate and jewels in order to discharge them. When this expedient was first proposed to him, he asked where he should find purchasers. It was replied, "The citizens of London." "On my word," said he, "if the treasury of Augustus were brought to sale, the citizens are able to be the purchasers: these clowns, who assume to themselves the name of barons, abound in everything, while we are reduced to necessaries." And he was thenceforth observed to be more forward and greedy in his exactions upon the citizens.

But the grievances which the English during this reign had reason to complain of in the civil government, seemed to have been still less burthensome than those which they suffered from usurpations and exactions of the court of Rome. On the death of Langton in 1228, the monks of Christ Church elected Walter de Hemesham, one of their own body, for his successor. But as Henry refused to confirm the election, the Pope, at his desire, annulled it, and immediately appointed Richard, Chancellor of Lincoln, for archbishop, without waiting for a new election. On the death of Richard in 1231, the monks elected Ralph de Neville, Bishop of Chichester; and though Henry was much pleased with the election, the Pope, who thought that prelate too much attached to the crown, assumed the power of annulling his election. He rejected two clergymen more, whom the monks had successively chosen; and he at last told them that if they would elect Edmund, treasurer of the church at Salisbury, he would confirm their choice, and his nomination was complied with. The Pope had the prudence to appoint both times very worthy primates; but men could not forbear observing his intention of thus drawing gradually to himself the right of bestowing that important dignity.

The avarice, however, more than the ambition of the See of Rome seems to have been in this age the ground of general complaint. The papal ministers, finding a vast stock of power amassed by their predecessors, were desirous of turning it to immediate profit, which they enjoyed at home, rather than of enlarging their authority in distant countries, where they never intended to reside. Everything was become venal in the Romish tribunals; simony was openly practised; no favours, and even no justice, could be obtained without a bribe; the highest bidder was sure to have the preference, without regard either to the merits of the person or of the cause; and besides the usual perversions of right in the decision of controversies, the Pope openly assumed an absolute and uncontrolled authority of setting aside, by the plenitude of his apostolic power, all particular rule, and all privileges of patrons, churches, and convents. On pretence of remedying these abuses, Pope Honorius, in 1226, complaining of the poverty of his See as the source of all grievances, demanded from every cathedral two of the best prebends, and from every convent two monk's portions, to be set apart as a perpetual and settled revenue of the papal crown. But all men being sensible that the revenue would continue for ever, and the abuses immediately return, his demand was unanimously rejected. About three years after, the Pope demanded and obtained the tenth of all ecclesiastical revenues, which he levied in a very oppressive manner, requiring payment before the clergy had drawn their rent or tithes, and sending about usurers, who advanced them the money at exorbitant interest. In the year 1240, Otho, the legate, having in vain attempted the clergy in a body, obtained separately, by intrigues and menaces, large sums from the convents and prelates; and on his departure is said to have carried more money out of the kingdom than he left in it.

This experiment was renewed four years afterwards by Martin, the legate, who brought from Rome full powers of suspending and excommunicating all priests who refused compliance with his demands; and the king, who relied on him for support to his tottering authority, never failed to uphold these exactions.

Meanwhile, all the chief benefices in the kingdom were conferred on Italians. Great numbers of that nation were sent over at one time to be provided for; non-residence and pluralities were carried to an enormous extent. Mansel, the king's chaplain, is reputed to have held at once 700 ecclesiastical livings; and the abuses became so glaring as to be palpable to the slow-wits of superstition itself. The people, entering into association, rose against the Italian clergy, pillaged their barns, wasted their lands, and insulted the persons of such of them as they found in the kingdom; and when the justices made inquiry into the authors of this disorder, the guilt was found to involve so many, and those of such high rank, that it passed unpunished. At last, when Innocent IV., in 1245, called a general council at Lyons, in order to excommunicate the Emperor Frederick, the king and nobility sent agents to complain before the council of the rapacity of the Romish Church. They represented, among many other grievances, that the benefices of the Italian clergy in England had been estimated, and were found to amount to 60,000 marks a year—a sum which exceeded the annual revenue of the crown itself. They obtained only an evasive answer from the Pope; but as mention had been made before the council of the feudal subjection of England to the See of Rome, the English agents, at whose head was Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, exclaimed against the pretension, and insisted that King John had no right, without the consent of his barons, to subject the kingdom to so ignominious a servitude. The Popes, indeed, afraid of carrying matters too far against England, seem thenceforth to have little insisted on that pretension.

SILVER PENNY OF HENRY III.

This check received at the council of Lyons did not, however, stop the court of Rome in its rapacity. Innocent exacted the revenues of all vacant benefices; the twentieth of all ecclesiastical revenues without exception; the third of such as exceeded 100 marks a year, and the half of such as were possessed by non-residents. He claimed the goods of all intestate clergymen; he pretended a title to inherit all money gotten by usury; he levied benevolences upon the people; and when the king, contrary to his usual practice, prohibited these exactions, the Pope threatened to pronounce against him the same censures which he had emitted against the Emperor Frederick.

But the most oppressive expedient employed by the Pope was the embarking of Henry in a project for the acquisition of Sicily, as it was called—an enterprise which threw much dishonour on the king, and involved him during some years in great trouble and expense. The Romish Church, taking advantage of favourable incidents, had reduced the kingdom of Sicily to the same state of feudal vassalage which she pretended to extend over England, and which, by reason of the distance, as well as high spirit, of the latter kingdom she was not able to maintain. After the death of the Emperor Frederick II. the succession of Sicily devolved on Conrad I., son of that monarch, whose half-brother, Manfred, under pretence of governing the kingdom during the minority of the young prince, had formed the ambitious scheme of obtaining the crown himself.

Pope Innocent, who had carried on violent war against the emperor, and desired nothing more ardently than to deprive him of his Italian dominions, still continued hostilities against his successor. He pretended to dispose of the crown of Italy, not only as its temporal lord, but by right of his office as Christ's vicar; and he tendered it to the Earl of Cornwall, whose immense wealth, he flattered himself, would enable him to carry on the war successfully against Manfred.

GOLD PENNY OF HENRY III.

Richard, however, had the good sense to decline the proposal; but when on the death of Conrad in 1254 the offer was made by the Pope to Henry, he accepted the crown for his second son Edmund, and gave the Pontiff unlimited credit to expend whatever money he thought necessary for the subjugation of that kingdom. The consequence was, that he found himself speedily involved in an immense debt, amounting to 135,541 marks.

In this dilemma, unwilling to retreat, the king summoned a Parliament to grant him supplies, but omitted sending writs to the refractory barons; yet even those who attended were so sensible of the audacious cheat, that they refused to take his demands into consideration. In this extremity the clergy were his only resource.

Photo: Alinari, Florence

Photo: Alinari, Florence.

VIEW IN SICILY: THE AMPHITHEATRE, SYRACUSE.

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The Pope, to aid him, published a crusade against Manfred. He leased a tenth of all the ecclesiastical benefices in England, and granted Henry the goods of all churchmen who died intestate, and the revenues of ancient benefices. But these taxations, iniquitous as they undoubtedly were, were deemed less objectionable than another imposition, suggested by the Bishop of Hereford, which might have opened the door to endless abuses.

This prelate, who resided at the court of Rome by deputation from the English Church, drew bills of different values, but amounting on the whole to 150,540 marks, on all the bishops and abbots of the kingdom; and granted these bills to Italian merchants, who, it was pretended, had advanced money for the service of the war against Manfred. As there was no likelihood of the English prelates submitting without compulsion to such an extraordinary demand, Rustand, the legate, was charged with the commission of employing authority for that purpose; and he summoned an assembly of the bishops and abbots, whom he acquainted with the pleasure of the Pope and of the king. Great were the surprise and indignation of the assembly: the Bishop of Worcester exclaimed that he would lose his life rather than comply; the Bishop of London said that the Pope and king were more powerful than he, but if his mitre were taken off his head, he would clap on a helmet in its place. The legate was no less violent on the other hand; and he told the assembly, in plain terms, that all ecclesiastical benefices were the property of the Pope, and he might dispose of them, either in whole or in part, as he saw proper. In the end, the bishops and abbots, being threatened with excommunication, which made all their revenues fall into the king's hands, were obliged to submit to the exaction; and the only mitigation which the legate allowed them was that the tenths already granted should be accepted as partial payment of the bills. But the money was still insufficient for the Pope's purpose; the conquest of Sicily was as remote as ever. The demands which came from Rome were endless. Pope Alexander IV. became so urgent a creditor, that he sent a legate over to England threatening the kingdom with an interdict, and the king with excommunication, if the arrears which he pretended to be due to him were not instantly remitted; and at last Henry, sensible of the cheat, began to think of breaking off the agreement, and of resigning the crown of Sicily, which it was not intended by Alexander that Henry or his family should ever possess.

The Earl of Cornwall had now reason to pride himself on his foresight in refusing the fraudulent bargain with Rome, and in preferring the solid honours of an opulent and powerful prince of the blood of England to the empty and precarious glory of a foreign dignity. But he had not always firmness sufficient to adhere to this resolution; his vanity and ambition prevailed at last over his prudence and his avarice; and he was engaged in an enterprise no less extensive and vexatious than that of his brother, and not attended with much greater probability of success. The immense opulence of Richard having made the German princes cast their eye on him as a candidate for the empire, he was tempted to expend vast sums of money on his election; and in 1257 he was chosen King of the Romans, which seemed to render his succession to the Imperial throne inevitable. He went to Germany, and carried out of the kingdom no less a sum than 700,000 marks, if we may credit some ancient authors, but the amount is probably much exaggerated. His money, while it lasted, procured him friends and partisans; but it was soon drained from him by the avidity of the German princes. Then having no personal or family connections in that country, and no solid foundation of power, he soon found that he had lavished away the hoard of a lifetime in order to procure a splendid title; and that his absence from England, joined to the weakness of his brother's government, had given occasion to the barons once more to revolt, and involved his country and family in great calamities.

The successful revolt of the nobles in the reign of King John, and their imposing a limit to the royal power, had sufficiently convinced them of their weight and importance in the state. This triumph, followed as it was by a long minority, had weakened as well as impoverished the crown.

In Henry's situation, either great abilities and vigour were necessary to overawe the nobility, or great prudence of conduct to avoid giving them just grounds of complaint. Unfortunately, he possessed none of these qualities, having neither prudence to choose right measures, nor that constancy of purpose which sometimes ensures success even to wrong. He was entirely devoted to his unworthy favourites, who were all foreigners; and upon these he lavished without discretion his diminished resources.

Henry, finding that the barons indulged in the most unbridled tyranny towards their own vassals, without observing the laws they had imposed upon the crown, unhesitatingly followed the evil example set before him. In his administration the Great Charter was continually violated—a course of conduct which not only lessened his authority in the kingdom, but multiplied the sources of discontent against him, exposed him to affront and danger, and provoked resistance to his remaining prerogatives.

Matthew Paris relates that, in 1244, when he desired a supply from parliament, the barons, complaining of the frequent violations of the Charter, demanded that in return for the money, he should resign the right of nominating the chancellor and great justiciary of the kingdom to them; and, if we may credit the same historian, they had formed further plans which, if successfully carried out, would have reduced the crown to a state of pupilage and dependence. The king, however, would consent to nothing but a renewal of the Great Charter, and a general permission to excommunicate all who might hereafter violate it. All he could obtain in return for his concession was a scutage of twenty shillings on each knight's fee for the marriage of his eldest daughter with the King of Scotland—an impost which was expressly provided for by their feudal tenures.

Four years afterwards, in full parliament, he was reproached for having broken his word and again violated his promises, and was asked if he did not blush to ask aid from his people—whom he openly professed to despise and hate, and to whom he on all occasions preferred strangers and aliens—from a people who groaned under the exactions which he either exercised over them or permitted others to inflict? He was told that, in addition to insulting his nobility, by forcing them to contract unequal marriages with foreigners, no class of his subjects was too obscure to escape the tyranny of himself and his ministers; that even the food he consumed in his household, the clothes which himself and his servants wore, and the wine they drank, were all taken by violence from their lawful owners, and no kind of compensation ever offered; that foreign merchants, to the shame of the kingdom, shunned the English harbours as if they were infested by pirates; and that all commerce was being gradually destroyed by these acts of unprincipled violence.

Unhappily, this was no exaggerated picture. In his reckless proceedings Henry even added insult to injury, by forcing the traders whom he despoiled of their goods to carry them at their own expense to whatever place he chose to appoint. Even the poor fishermen could not escape his rapacity and that of his foreign favourites, till, finding they could not dispose of the fruit of their labours at home, they carried them to foreign ports.

The king, says Matthew Paris, gave the parliament only good words and fair promises in answer to these remonstrances, accompanied with the most humble submissions—which, however, they had too often found deceitful to be gulled by any longer; the consequence was, that they unanimously refused the supply he asked, to the great disappointment of his rapacious favourites.

In 1253 he again found himself obliged to apply to parliament, which he did under pretence of having made a vow to undertake a crusade.

The parliament hesitated to comply, and the ecclesiastical order sent a deputation to Henry, consisting of four prelates—the primate, and the Bishops of Winchester, Salisbury, and Carlisle—to remonstrate with him on his frequent violation of their privileges, the oppressions with which he had loaded them as well as the rest of his subjects, and the uncanonical and forced elections made to the vacant dignities in the Church. "It is true," replied the king, "I have been somewhat faulty in this particular: I obtruded you, my lord of Canterbury, on your see; I was obliged to employ both entreaties and menaces, my lord of Winchester, to have you elected; my proceedings, I confess, were very irregular, my lords of Salisbury and Carlisle, when I raised you from the lowest stations to your present dignities. I am determined henceforth to correct these abuses; and it will also become you, in order to make a thorough reformation, to resign your present benefices, and try to enter again in a more regular and canonical manner." The bishops, surprised at these unexpected sarcasms, replied that the question was not at present how to correct past errors, but to avoid them for the future. The king promised redress, both of ecclesiastical and civil grievances; and the parliament in return agreed to grant him supply—a tenth of the ecclesiastical benefices, and a scutage of three marks on each knight's fee; but as they had experienced his frequent breach of promise, they required that he should ratify the Great Charter in a manner still more authentic and more solemn than any which he had hitherto employed. All the prelates and abbots were assembled; they held lighted tapers in their hands; the Great Charter was read before them; they denounced the sentence of excommunication against every one who should thenceforth violate the fundamental law; they threw their tapers on the ground, and exclaimed, "May the soul of every one who incurs this sentence so stink and corrupt in hell!" The king bore a part in this ceremony, and subjoined, "So help me God, I will keep all these articles inviolate, as I am a man, as I am a Christian, as I am a knight, and as I am a king crowned and anointed." Yet was this tremendous ceremony no sooner finished, than his favourites, abusing his weakness, made him return to the same arbitrary and irregular administration, and the expectations and hopes of the nation were again eluded and disappointed.

The universal discontent which ensued afforded a pretext to Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, to attempt, by means of a revolution, to wrest the sceptre from the feeble and irresolute hands which held it. This powerful noble was the younger son of that Simon de Montfort who displayed so much skill and courage in the crusade against the unfortunate Albigenses, but who tarnished his fame by the most execrable cruelty; for the history of religious persecution does not show a darker page than that in which the sufferings of the Albigenses are recorded.

A large inheritance in Britain had fallen to the victorious crusader, whose eldest son, unable to perform fealty to the Kings of France and England, had transferred it to his younger brother Simon, who came over and did homage for his lands and the title of Earl of Leicester.

In 1238 he married Eleanor, the king's sister, the widow of William, Earl of Pembroke; but the union of the princess with a subject and a foreigner, though contracted with Henry's consent, was loudly complained of, not only by the Earl of Cornwall, but also by most of the English barons. The bridegroom, however, was protected against their violence by his brother-in-law, who little imagined the return he would meet with.

No sooner had Leicester succeeded in establishing himself in his new possessions and dignities, than he acquired, by insinuation and address, great popularity and influence with the nation, gaining the affections of all orders of men—a circumstance which lost him the friendship of the feeble monarch, who first banished him from court, then weakly recalled him, and finally, to rid himself of his presence, entrusted him with the government of Gascony, where he did good service, and acquired great honour.

HENRY'S QUARREL WITH DE MONTFORT. (See p. 296.)

Instead of being rewarded, as he had every reason to expect, he was once more exiled. Henry called him a traitor to his face; on which the haughty noble gave him the lie, and told him that, if he were not his sovereign, he would soon make him repent the insult.

This second quarrel was, however, accommodated, either through the good nature or fear of Henry, and the offender admitted once more to some share of favour and authority. With all his defects, Leicester appears to have been of too noble and independent a nature to observe a compliance with his brother-in-law's capricious humours, or to act in subserviency to his minions. Perhaps he found it more to his advantage to cultivate the good opinion of the people, and to inflame the general discontent against the wretched administration of the kingdom. He filled every place with his complaints against the infringements of the Great Charter, the acts of violence committed on the people, the iniquitous combination between the Pope and the king in their mutual acts of tyranny and extortion, and the neglect shown to his native subjects and barons by Henry.

In this last complaint, although a foreigner himself, he was more zealous than any other noble in the realm, in representing the indignity of submitting to be governed by strangers. He succeeded in obtaining the favour of the clergy, whilst, at the same time, he secured the affections of the people. He carefully cultivated the friendship of the barons by pretending an animosity against the favourites, which animosity served as the basis of union between himself and that powerful order.

A violent quarrel which broke out between Leicester and William de Valence, Henry's half-brother and chief favourite, brought matters to a head, and determined the former to give full scope to his long-cherished schemes of ambition, which the laws and the royal authority had hitherto restrained, though with some difficulty.

He secretly called an assembly of the most powerful nobles, particularly Humphrey of Hereford, High Constable; Roger of Norfolk, Earl Marshal; and the Earls of Warwick and Gloucester—men who, by their exalted rank and immense possessions, stood foremost in the rank of English nobility.

To this assembly he exposed the necessity of reforming the state, and entrusting the execution of the laws to other hands than those which had proved themselves, by bitter experience, so totally unfitted for the charge confided to them. In his harangue he did not forget to inveigh against the oppression exercised against the lower orders, or to exaggerate the violations of the privileges of the barons, and the depredations committed on the clergy; and, in order to aggravate the enormity of his brother-in-law's conduct, he appealed to the Great Charter, which Henry had so often sworn to maintain and so repeatedly violated.

With much show of justice, he urged that this violation of privileges which their ancestors had wrung from the crown by an enormous sacrifice of blood and treasure, ought not to be endured, unless they were prepared to set the seal upon their own degeneracy by permitting such advantages to be torn from them by a weak prince and his insolent foreign favourites. To all suggestions of a remonstrance, the speaker replied by observing that the king's word had been too frequently broken, although confirmed by oaths, ever again to be relied upon, and that nothing short of his being placed in a position of utter inability to violate the national privileges could henceforth ensure the regular observance of them.

These complaints, which were founded in truth, accorded so entirely with the sentiments of the assembly, that they produced the desired effect, and the barons pledged themselves to a resolution of reducing the public grievances, by taking into their own hands the administration of the kingdom.

Henry having summoned a parliament, in expectation of receiving supplies for his Sicilian project, the barons appeared in the hall, clad in complete armour, and with their swords by their side. The king, on his entry, struck with the unusual appearance, asked them what was their purpose, and whether they intended to make him their prisoner. Roger Bigod replied, in the name of the rest, that he was not their prisoner, but their sovereign; that they even intended to grant him large supplies, in order to fix his son on the throne of Sicily; that they only expected some return for this expense and service; and that, as he had frequently made submissions to the parliament, had acknowledged his past errors, and still allowed himself to be carried into the same path, which gave them such just reason of complaint, he must now yield to more strict regulations, and confer authority on those who were able and willing to redress the national grievances. Henry, partly allured by the hopes of supply, partly intimidated by the union and martial aspect of the barons, agreed to their demand; and promised to summon another parliament at Oxford, in order to digest the new plan of government, and to elect the persons who were to be entrusted with the chief authority.

This parliament—which the royalists, and even the nation, from experience of the confusion that attended its measures, afterwards denominated the Mad Parliament—met on the day appointed; and as all the barons brought along with them their military vassals, and appeared with an armed force, the king, who had taken no precautions against them, was in reality a prisoner in their hands, and was obliged to submit to all the terms which they were pleased to impose upon him. Twelve barons were selected from among the king's ministers, twelve more were chosen by parliament: to these twenty-four, unlimited authority was granted to reform the state; and the king himself took an oath that he would maintain whatever ordinances they should think proper to enact for that purpose. The barons chose a council of four, and these in turn nominated a council of state, or executive ministry of fifteen. Leicester was at the head of this supreme council, to which the legislative power was thus in reality transferred; and all their measures were taken by his secret influence and direction. The first step bore a specious appearance, and seemed well calculated for the end which they professed to be the object of all these innovations: they ordered that four knights should be chosen by each county; that these should make inquiry into the grievances of which their neighbourhood had reason to complain, and should attend the ensuing parliament, in order to give information of the state of their particular counties—a nearer approach to our present constitution than had been made by the barons in the reign of King John, when the knights were appointed only to meet in their several counties, and there to draw up a detail of their grievances. Meanwhile the twenty-four barons proceeded to enact some regulations as a redress of such grievances as were supposed to be sufficiently notorious: they ordered that three sessions of parliament should be regularly held every year, in the months of February, June, and October; that a new sheriff should be annually elected by the votes of the freeholders in each county; that the sheriffs should have no power of fining the barons who did not attend their courts or the circuits of the justiciaries; that no heirs should be committed to the wardship of foreigners, and no castles entrusted to their custody; and that no new warrens or forests should be created, nor the revenues of any counties or hundreds be let to farm. Such were the regulations which the twenty-four barons established at Oxford for the redress of public grievances.

But the Earl of Leicester and his associates, having advanced so far to satisfy the nation, instead of continuing in this popular course, or granting the king that supply which they had promised him, immediately provided for the extension and continuance of their own authority. They roused anew the popular clamour which had long prevailed against foreigners; and they fell with the utmost violence on the king's half-brothers, who were supposed to be the authors of all national grievances, and whom Henry had no longer any power to protect. The four brothers, sensible of their danger, took to flight, with the intention of making their escape out of the kingdom; they were eagerly pursued by the barons. Aylmer, one of the brothers, who had been elected to the see of Winchester, took shelter in his episcopal palace, and carried the others along with him; they were surrounded in that place, and threatened to be dragged out by force, and to be punished for their crimes and misdemeanours; and the king, pleading the sacredness of an ecclesiastical sanctuary, was glad to extricate them from this danger by banishing them the kingdom.

In this act of violence, as well as in the former usurpations of the barons, the queen and her uncles are supposed to have secretly concurred, being jealous of the credit acquired by the brothers, which had entirely eclipsed their own.

The subsequent proceedings of the confederate barons ought to have opened the eyes of the nation to their real design, which was neither more nor less than reducing both the king and the people under the arbitrary power of a very limited aristocracy, which, had it been carried out, must have terminated at last in anarchy or tyranny.

They artfully pretended that they had not yet digested all the regulations necessary for the reformation of the state, and the redress of grievances; that they must still retain their power till this great purpose was effected: or, in other words, that they intended to remain perpetual governors till it pleased them to abdicate their authority; and, in order to cement their power, they formed an association amongst themselves, and swore that they would stand by each other with their lives and fortunes.

The justiciary, the chancellor, and treasurer of the kingdom were removed from their offices, and creatures of the barons thrust into their places; even the offices of the king's household were disposed of at their pleasure, and the government of all castles was put into hands in which they could confide; and the whole power of the state being thus practically transferred to them, they put the crowning act to their usurpations by imposing an oath—which all subjects were obliged to swear under penalty of being proclaimed public enemies—that they would obey and execute all regulations, both known and unknown, of the twenty-four barons.

Never had men a more glorious opportunity of covering themselves with honour, and securing the gratitude of their country, than the confederates now possessed; but, instead of devoting themselves to establishing the liberties of their country, reforming abuses, and correcting the laws, they selfishly preferred their personal aggrandisement.

Edward, the king's eldest son, then a youth of eighteen, who, even at that early age, gave indications of the noble, manly spirit which distinguished him in after life, was, after some opposition, forced to take the oath, which virtually deposed his father and his family from sovereign authority. The last person in the kingdom who held out was Earl de Warrenne, but even he was eventually compelled to submit.

Not content with this usurpation of the royal power, the barons introduced an innovation in the constitution which was utterly at variance with its letter and spirit. They ordained that parliament should choose a committee of twelve persons, who should, in the intervals between the sessions, possess all the authority of the whole parliament, and attend, on a summons to that effect, the person of the king wherever he might reside. So powerful were the confederates, that even this regulation was submitted to, and thus the entire government was overthrown, or fixed upon a new foundation; the monarchy subsisted without it being possible for the king to strike a single blow in defence of the constitution against the newly-elected oligarchy.

The lesson to Henry must have been a bitter one, for he was the last person in the kingdom who had a right to complain. He could invoke no law which he had not been the first to violate. The degradation and restraint he endured were the just punishment of his perfidy and countless perjuries.

The report that the King of the Romans intended visiting England alarmed the confederated nobles, who dreaded lest his extensive influence should be employed to restore his family, and overturn their new system of government. Under this impression they sent the Bishop of Worcester to meet him at St. Omer, to demand, in their name, the reason of his journey; how long he intended to remain in the kingdom; and to insist that, before he set foot in it, he should swear to observe the regulations established at Oxford.

On Richard's refusal to take this oath, they prepared to resist him as a public enemy. They fitted out a fleet, assembled an army, and, exciting the inveterate prejudices of the people against foreigners, from whom they had suffered so many oppressions, spread the report that Richard, attended by a number of strangers, meant to restore by force the authority of his exiled brothers, and to violate all the securities provided for public liberty. The King of the Romans was at last obliged to submit to the terms required of him.

But the barons, in proportion to their continuance in power, began gradually to lose that popularity which had assisted them in obtaining it; and men regretted that regulations, which were occasionally established for the reformation of the state, were likely to become perpetual and subvert entirely the ancient constitution. They were apprehensive lest the power of the nobles, always oppressive, should now exert itself without control, by removing the counterpoise of the crown; and their fears were increased by some new edicts of the barons, which were plainly calculated to procure to themselves an immunity in all their violences. They appointed that the circuits of the itinerant justices, the sole check on their arbitrary conduct, should be held only once in seven years; and men easily saw that a remedy available only at such long intervals, against an oppressive power which was permanent, would prove totally insignificant and useless. The demand at length became urgent that the barons should finish their intended regulations. The knights of the shires, who seem now to have been pretty regularly assembled, and sometimes in a separate house, made remonstrances against the slowness of the barons' proceedings. They represented that though the king had performed all the conditions required of him, the barons had hitherto done nothing for the public good, and had only been careful to promote their own private advantage, and to make inroads on royal authority; and they even appealed to Prince Edward, and claimed his interposition for the interests of the nation and the reformation of the government. The prince replied that, though it was from constraint, and contrary to his private sentiments, he had sworn to maintain the provisions of Oxford, and was determined to observe his oath; but he sent a message to the barons, requiring them to bring their undertaking to a speedy conclusion, and fulfil their engagements to the public: otherwise, he threatened that, at the expense of his life, he would oblige them to do their duty, and would shed the last drop of his blood in promoting the interests and satisfying the just wishes of the nation.

The remonstrances of the knights of the shire, and the spirited conduct of the heir to the crown, obliged the barons at last to publish a new code of ordinances for the reformation of the State: but the expectations of the nation were bitterly disappointed when they found that this code consisted only of some trivial alterations in the municipal laws, and that the rulers intended to prolong their authority still further, under pretence that the task they had assumed was not yet accomplished.

France was at this time governed by Louis IX., a monarch of the most elevated character. He united to the most earnest piety all the courage and qualities of a hero, the justice and integrity of a patriot, and the mildness and humanity of a philosopher.

So far from taking advantage of the divisions amongst the English in attempting to expel them from the provinces which they still held in France, he entertained many doubts as to the justice of the sentence of attainder pronounced against Henry's father, the licentious and worthless John, whose forfeited possessions he had even expressed some intention of restoring.

Whenever this prince interposed in English affairs, it was always with an intention of composing the differences between the king and his nobility. He recommended to both parties every peaceable and reconciling measure, and he used all his authority with the Earl of Leicester, his native subject, to bend him to compliance with Henry. He made a treaty with England (May 20) at a time when the distractions of that kingdom were at the greatest height, and when the king's authority was totally annihilated, and the terms which he granted might, even in a more prosperous state of their affairs, be deemed reasonable and advantageous to the English. He yielded up Bordeaux, Bayonne, and Gascony; he ensured the peaceable possession of the last-named province to Henry; he agreed to pay that prince a large sum of money; and he only required that the king should, in return, make a final cession of Normandy and the other provinces, which he could never maintain any hopes of recovering by force of arms. This cession was ratified by Henry, by his two sons and two daughters, and by the King of the Romans and his three sons.

But the situation of Henry soon after wore a still more favourable aspect. The twenty-four barons had now enjoyed the sovereign power nearly three years, and had visibly employed it, not for the reformation of the state, which was their first pretence, but for the aggrandisement of themselves and their favourites. The dissension amongst the barons themselves, whilst it added to the evil, made the remedy more obvious and easy. The desertion of the Earl of Gloucester to the crown seemed to promise Henry certain success in the event of his attempting to resume his authority, but he dared not take that step without first applying to Rome for absolution from the oaths and engagements he had contracted.

The king could not have made his application at a more fortunate period, for the Pope felt much dissatisfied with the conduct of the barons, who, in order to conciliate the nation, had expelled all the Italian ecclesiastics from the kingdom and confiscated their benefices. He proved himself willing, therefore, on Henry's application, to absolve him and all his subjects from the oath they had taken to observe the provisions of Oxford.

Prince Edward, whose liberal mind, though in such early youth, had taught him the great prejudice which his father had incurred by his levity, inconstancy, and frequent breach of promise, refused for a long time to take advantage of this absolution; and declared that the provisions of Oxford, how unreasonable soever in themselves, and how much soever abused by the barons, ought still to be adhered to by those who had sworn to observe them. He himself had been constrained by violence to take that oath; yet was he determined to keep it. By this scrupulous fidelity the prince acquired the confidence of all parties, and was afterwards enabled to recover fully the royal authority.

As soon as the king received the Pope's absolution from his oath, accompanied with menaces of excommunication against all opponents, trusting to the countenance of the Church, to the support promised him by many considerable barons, and to the returning favour of the people, he immediately took off the mask. After justifying his conduct by a proclamation, in which he set forth the private ambition and the breach of trust conspicuous in Leicester and his associates, he declared that he had resumed the government, and was determined thenceforth to exert the royal authority for the protection of his subjects. He removed Hugh le Despenser and Nicholas of Ely, the justiciary and chancellor appointed by the barons, and put Philip Basset and Walter de Merton in their place. He substituted new sheriffs in all the counties, men of character and honour; he placed new governors in most of the castles, he changed all the officers of his household; he summoned a parliament, in which the resumption of his authority was ratified, with only five dissenting voices; and the barons, after making one fruitless effort to take the king by surprise at Winchester, were obliged to acquiesce in these new regulations.

The king, in order to cut off every objection to his conduct, offered to refer all the differences between him and the Earl of Leicester to the King of France. The celebrated integrity of Louis gave a mighty influence to any decision which issued from his court; and Henry probably hoped that the gallantry on which all barons, as true knights, prided themselves, would make them ashamed not to submit to the award of that prince.

The Earl of Leicester was nowise discouraged by the bad success of his former enterprises; the death of Richard, Earl of Gloucester, who was his chief rival in power, seemed to open a fresh field to his ambition, and expose the throne to renewed violence. It was in vain that Henry declared his intention of strictly observing the Great Charter, and even of maintaining the regulations made at Oxford, with the exception of those which annihilated the royal authority; the barons would not peaceably resign the uncontrolled power they had so long enjoyed. Many of them entered into Leicester's views, and, among the rest, Gilbert, the young Earl of Gloucester, who brought with him a great accession of power from the wealth and authority he had inherited on the recent death of his father, de Montfort's rival. Even Henry, son of the King of the Romans—commonly called Henry d'Almaine—though a prince of the blood, joined the party of the barons against the interests of his family.

The princes of Wales, notwithstanding the great power of the monarchs both of the Saxon and Norman lines, had still preserved authority in their own country. Though they had frequently been forced to pay tribute to the crown of England, they were with difficulty retained in a state of vassalage, or even in peace; and almost through every reign since the Conquest had infested the English frontiers with such petty excursions and inroads as seldom secured a place in general history.

In 1237, Llewellyn, Prince of Wales, declining in years and stricken with infirmities, but still more harassed by the unnatural rebellion of his youngest son, Griffith, had recourse to the protection of Henry, subjecting his principality, which had so long maintained its independence, to vassalage under the crown of England.

His eldest son and heir, David, renewed the homage to England, and having taken his brother prisoner, delivered him into the hands of Henry, who kept him a prisoner in the Tower. Griffith lost his life in attempting to escape from his imprisonment, and the Prince of Wales, freed from the apprehension of so dangerous a rival, paid henceforth less regard to the English monarch, and soon renewed those incursions by which the Welsh, during so many ages, had infested the English borders.

Llewellyn, the son of Griffith, who succeeded to his uncle, although he had performed homage to England, was well pleased to inflame those civil discords on which he relied for security. For this purpose he entered into an alliance with Leicester, and, collecting all the forces of his principality, invaded England with an army of thirty thousand men.

He ravaged the lands of Roger de Mortimer, and of all the barons who adhered to the crown; he marched into Cheshire, and committed like depredations on Prince Edward's territories; every place where his disorderly troops appeared was laid waste with fire and sword; and though Mortimer, a gallant and expert soldier, made stout resistance, it was at length found necessary that the prince himself should head the army against this invader. Edward repulsed Prince Llewellyn, and obliged him to take shelter in the mountains of North Wales; but he was prevented from making further progress against the enemy by receiving intelligence of the disorders which soon after broke out in England.

The Welsh invasion was the appointed signal for the malcontent barons to rise in arms; and Leicester, coming over secretly from France, collected all the forces of his party, and commenced an open rebellion. He seized the person of the Bishop of Hereford—a prelate obnoxious to all the inferior clergy on account of his devoted attachment to the court of Rome. Simon, Bishop of Norwich, and John Mansel, because they had published the Pope's bull, absolving the king and kingdom from their oaths to observe the provisions of Oxford, were made prisoners, and exposed to the rage of the party. The king's demesnes were ravaged with unbounded fury; and as it was Leicester's interest to allure to his side, by the hopes of plunder, all the disorderly ruffians in England, he gave them a general license to pillage the barons of the opposite party, and even all neutral persons. But one of the principal resources of his faction was the populace of the cities, particularly of London; and as he had, by his pretensions to sanctity and his zeal against Rome, engaged the monks and lower ecclesiastics in his party, his dominion over the inferior ranks of men became uncontrollable. Thomas Fitz-Richard, Mayor of London, a furious and licentious man, gave the countenance of authority to these disorders in the capital; and having declared war against the substantial citizens, he loosened all the bands of government by which that turbulent city was commonly but ill restrained. On the approach of Easter, the zeal of superstition, the appetite for plunder, or what is often as prevalent with the populace as either of these motives, the pleasure of committing havoc and destruction, prompted them to attack the unhappy Jews, who were first pillaged without resistance, then massacred to the number of 500 persons. The Lombard bankers were next exposed to the rage of the people; and though, by taking sanctuary in the churches, they escaped with their lives, all their money and goods became a prey to the multitude. Not content with these excesses, the houses of the rich citizens, though English, were attacked by night; and way was made by sword and fire to the pillage of their goods, and often to the destruction of their persons.

The queen, who, though defended by the Tower, was terrified by the neighbourhood of such dangerous commotions, resolved to go by water to the castle of Windsor; but as she approached the bridge the populace assembled against her. There was a general cry of "Drown the witch;" and besides abusing her with the most opprobrious language, and pelting her with refuse and dirt, they had prepared large stones to sink the barge when the royal party should attempt to shoot the bridge. At this moment the mayor interposed for the queen's protection, and conveyed her in safety to St. Paul's.

The violence and fury of Leicester's faction had risen to such a height in all parts of England, that the king, unable to resist their power, was obliged to set on foot a treaty of peace, and to make an accommodation with the barons on the most disadvantageous terms. He agreed to confirm anew the provisions of Oxford, even those which entirely annihilated the royal authority; and the barons were again reinstated in the sovereignty of the kingdom. They restored Hugh le Despenser to the office of chief justiciary; they appointed their own creatures sheriffs in every county of England; they took possession of all the royal castles and fortresses; they even named all the officers of the king's household; and they summoned a parliament to meet at Westminster, in order to settle more fully their plan of government. They here produced a new list of twenty-four barons, to whom they proposed that the administration should be entirely committed; and they insisted that the authority of this junta should continue, not only during the reign of the king, but also during that of Prince Edward.

This prince, the life and soul of the royal party, had, unhappily, before the king's accommodation with the barons, been taken prisoner by Leicester in a parley at Windsor; and that misfortune, more than any other incident, had determined Henry to submit to the ignominious conditions imposed upon him. But Edward, having recovered his liberty by the treaty, employed his activity in defending the prerogatives of his family; and he gained a great party even among those who had first adhered to the cause of the barons. His cousins, Henry d'Almaine, Roger Bigod, Earl Marshal, Earl Warrenne, Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford, John Basset, Ralph Basset, Hammond l'Estrange, Roger Mortimer, Henry de Piercy, Robert Bruce, Roger de Laybourne, with almost all the lords marchers (as they were called) on the borders of Wales and Scotland, the most warlike parts of the kingdom, declared in favour of the royal cause; and hostilities, which had scarcely been suppressed, were again renewed in every part of England. But the near balance of the parties, joined to the universal clamour of the people, obliged the king and barons to open anew the negotiations for peace; and both sides agreed to submit their differences to the arbitration of the King of France.

This virtuous prince, the only man who, in like circumstances, could safely have been entrusted with such an authority by a neighbouring nation, had never ceased to interpose his good offices between the English factions; and had even, during the short interval of peace, invited over to Paris both the king and the Earl of Leicester, in order to adjust the differences between them, but found that the fears and animosities on both sides, as well as the ambition of Leicester, were so violent as to render all his endeavours ineffectual. But when this solemn appeal, ratified by the oaths and subscriptions of the leaders in both factions, was made to his judgment, he was not discouraged from pursuing his honourable purpose. He summoned the states of France at Amiens, and there, in the presence of that assembly, as well as in that of the King of England and Peter de Montfort, Leicester's son, he brought this great cause to a trial and examination. It appeared to him that the provisions of Oxford, even had they not been extorted by force, had they not been so exorbitant in their nature, and subversive of the ancient constitution, were expressly established as a temporary expedient, and could not, without breach of trust, be rendered perpetual by the barons. He therefore annulled those provisions; restored to the king the possession of his castles, and the power of nomination to the great offices; allowed him to retain what foreigners he pleased in the kingdom, and even to confer on them places of great trust and dignity; and, in a word, re-established the royal power on the same footing on which it stood before the meeting of the parliament at Oxford.

But while he suppressed dangerous innovations, and preserved unimpaired the prerogatives of the English crown, he was not negligent of the rights of the people. Besides ordering a general amnesty for all past offences, he declared that his award was not in any way intended to derogate from the liberties enjoyed by the nation in virtue of any concessions or charters from the crown.

The award of Louis may have been just in the abstract, and was certainly in accordance with the principles of the English constitution; but it involved measures which, under present circumstances, it was by no means expedient should be carried into effect. The barons might, indeed, have pressed too heavily upon the royal prerogative, and seized on every side, with little scruple, the securities they considered necessary; but it was certain that if those securities were suddenly and completely relinquished, the national charters would become as wholly inoperative as they were before the parliament of Oxford. The word of the king had ceased to have any weight whatever; and the barons determined to resist the award of Louis, and once more to take up arms. Again the country was desolated by civil war, which was renewed with more than its former fury.

The northern counties and those of the west remained attached to the cause of the king; while the strength of the barons lay in the midland and south-eastern counties, the Cinque Ports, and the neighbourhood of London. The citizens of the capital especially were conspicuous for the firmness with which they supported the barons, and the powerful assistance which they rendered to the insurgent cause. At the opening of the campaign various successes attended the movements of the royal troops. Elated by his good fortune, Henry marched to the south with the view of gaining the adhesion of the Cinque Ports. Meanwhile Leicester had remained in London; and thence, while watching the successful career of the king, had employed himself, with the calmness of a skilful general, in concentrating a body of forces. Having accomplished this object, he marched from the capital, determined to meet the king in the south, and compel him to a decisive battle. The army of Henry was greatly superior in numbers to the force marching against him, and therefore he resolved to await his enemies in the spot where he was already encamped—in a hollow or valley at Lewes, in Sussex. Leicester marched his troops to the downs about two miles from Lewes, where he encamped for the night.

The interval of repose was not suffered to pass unimproved. Leicester employed it in arousing in his favour all the superstitious feelings of his soldiery. In time of war or peace he had always been noted for his strict observance of religious forms; and he compared his own life and the cause in which he was engaged with the perjuries and treacheries of Henry, which he said had withdrawn from that king all favour of Heaven. He commanded that his army should wear a white cross, in token that they were engaged in a sacred war; and the Bishop of Chichester, one of his associates, gave a solemn absolution to the troops, promising honour to those who lived, and to those who fell the welcome of martyrs in heaven.

The evening hours were thus spent in exciting to the utmost the enthusiasm of the troops. On the morning of the 14th of May (1264), the earl prepared for the attack, and, leaving a reserve behind him, he descended upon the royal forces. On the king's side were the barons whose names have been already mentioned, together with John Baliol, Robert Bruce, and John Comyn from beyond the Scottish border. On the side of Leicester were the Earls Gloucester and Derby, Robert de Roos, John Fitz-John, John de Vescy, Nicholas Seagrave, Richard Grey, William Marmion, and many other powerful nobles.

As the two armies joined battle, the attack was commenced by Prince Edward, who on this day displayed evidence of that military talent and gallantry which were afterwards to become so conspicuous. The prince led a body of troops upon a force of Londoners, who had armed themselves in the cause they supported. Unskilled in the art of war, and probably much inferior in their appointments, the citizens gave way before the heavy cavalry of Edward, which cut them to pieces. The prince remembered the insults they had offered to his mother, and in his eagerness for vengeance he pursued the flying Londoners, perfectly regardless of what might happen to the rest of the royal army. Leicester meanwhile took advantage of this impetuosity and, collecting his forces into a compact and dense mass, led them against the main body of the king's troops, and completely defeated them. Henry himself was taken prisoner, with his brother the King of the Romans, Robert Bruce, and John Comyn.

When the prince returned from the pursuit on which he was engaged, he perceived the fatal error he had committed. The ground was covered with the bodies of his friends, and he learnt from a few breathless fugitives that his father, with many of his chief nobles, was in the hands of Leicester, and that they were all shut up in the priory of Lewes. Scarcely had the Prince received this news when he was attacked by a troop of cavalry, and was compelled to surrender. The Earl Warrenne, and with him the king's half-brothers, escaped from the field, and reached the Continent. It is stated that in this battle 5,000 Englishmen were slain by the hands of their countrymen.

On the following morning a treaty, called the "Mise of Lewes," was entered into between the defeated king and his barons. It was arranged that Prince Edward and Henry, the son of the King of the Romans, should remain in the hands of Leicester as hostages for their fathers, and that another attempt should be made finally to arrange matters by arbitration. The earl, however, who now found himself possessed of almost unlimited power, refused to release the king and his brother, and kept them, as well as their sons, in imprisonment. In this course of action he was supported by the people and by a large majority of the ecclesiastics; and when the Pope issued sentence of excommunication against Leicester and his party, many of the clergy defied the papal authority, and still held up to the admiration of their hearers the man who had been placed under the ban of Rome. They described him as the reformer of abuses, the protector of the oppressed, the avenger of the Church, and the father of the poor.

The popularity which Leicester at this time enjoyed was unexampled; and here we see again the not unfrequent spectacle of a man, strong in the affections of the people, becoming much more a king than he who wears the crown. The earl exercised his authority upon all those barons who still adhered to the royal cause, and compelled them to quit their strongholds, to give up their possessions, and submit to a trial by their peers. In the judgments passed upon these men we see the rapid advance which had lately taken place in civilisation. There were no sentences to death, or abominable torture, or chains; and in most cases the punishment inflicted consisted of a short exile to Ireland. The king's name was still employed in all acts of government, and his captivity was rendered as light as was consistent with the safe custody of his person. Every indulgence, together with all outward demonstrations of respect, was accorded to him, and a similar mildness was evinced towards the other royal prisoners.

Immediately before the battle of Lewes, the queen had escaped to the Continent, where she received offers of assistance from different foreign princes. To them the proceedings of the barons appeared only as a rebellion against the king; and they were interested in repressing such attempts against royal authority. With their assistance, the queen collected a large force of mercenaries, which was assembled at the port of Damme, in Flanders, in readiness to pass over into England. Leicester was not long in taking measures against this new danger. Secure in the good opinion of the people, he sent heralds throughout the country, summoning the men-at-arms from towns and castles, cities and boroughs, to meet him on Barham Downs. The call was generally responded to; and the earl having formed an encampment of his army on the Downs, he took the command of a fleet which he had collected from the neighbouring ports. For some time he cruised about the Channel, waiting for the fleet from Damme to set sail, and intending to intercept it and prevent it from reaching the English shores. But the queen's supporters, who entertained a salutary fear of a sea-fight with the English, did not venture to leave their shelter; and eventually her troops were disbanded, and the enterprise was relinquished.

But the downfall of the earl was at hand. Gifted, as he undoubtedly was, with a most powerful intellect, he was not superior to the demoralising influences of his high position. Possessed already of the substance of power to its full extent, he further aimed at the enjoyment of its forms. He asserted in too marked a manner his superiority over the barons associated with him—a proceeding to which those haughty chiefs were little disposed to submit. Prince Edward, who had been placed with his father, and with him enjoyed considerable liberty of person, carefully observed this growing dissatisfaction, and fomented it by every means at his command. It is worthy of remark here that the Parliament summoned by Leicester to consider the case of Prince Edward, was assembled early in 1265, and appears to have been the first Parliament at which representatives of the cities and boroughs were present, together with the knights of the shire.

The dissensions among the barons increased rapidly. The Earl of Gloucester declared himself the rival of De Montfort and, with the assistance of his brother, Thomas de Clare, who was an attendant of the prince, arranged a plan by which Edward might escape from confinement. The scheme succeeded; a swift horse was conveyed to the prince, on which he evaded pursuit, and reached Ludlow, where the Earl of Gloucester had fixed his headquarters. The earl was not remarkable for prudence or good sense; but the temper of the nobles had shown itself in too marked a manner to be mistaken, and he perceived that they would require pledges for the fulfilment of the charters before they would render any support to the royal cause. He therefore caused the prince to give such pledges, and to undertake that he would govern according to law and expel the foreigners from the realm.

The Earl of Derby had already entered into communication with the prince, and within a short time afterwards the Earl Warrenne sailed from the Continent, and landed in South Wales with 120 knights, and a troop of foot soldiers. Prince Edward also made arrangements with other nobles who were favourable to him, and effected a simultaneous rising in different parts of the country. Simon de Montfort, eldest son of the Earl of Leicester, was stationed in Sussex with a small force, while the earl himself, retaining possession of the king's person, remained at Hereford. Leicester was extremely anxious that his son should join him, and so concentrate their forces—a measure which Edward used every exertion to prevent. The prince took possession of the fords of the Severn, and destroyed the boats and bridges on that river. Some skirmishing took place between the rival armies, and the skill of the two leaders was displayed in various warlike manoeuvres. At length Leicester succeeded in crossing the river, and proceeded to Worcester, where he awaited the arrival of his son. But Simon de Montfort showed little of his father's ability, and the active Prince Edward attacked him by night near Kenilworth, and captured all his horses and treasure. Many of his best men fell into the hands of the prince, and their leader was compelled to make his escape as best he could to the neighbouring castle, which was then in the possession of the De Montfort family.

The earl, unacquainted with this disaster, advanced his army to Evesham on the Avon. On arriving there he perceived his own standards on the hills, advancing from the direction of Kenilworth. His eyes were gladdened by the sight, and he advanced unsuspectingly to meet the destruction which was gathering around him. The standards were those of his son in the hands of his enemies; and when at length this was discovered it was too late to retreat. Meanwhile Prince Edward had directed a combined movement of troops in his flank and rear, so that the earl found himself completely surrounded. As he perceived the high degree of military skill shown in these arrangements, he is said to have complained that his enemies had learnt from him the art of war. He then exclaimed, "May the Lord have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are Prince Edward's!"

If such was the old general's opinion, it is not probable that he expressed it openly, and it is certain that he took measures for defence as energetically as though he were assured of victory. Having spent a short time in prayer, and taken the sacrament as was his custom before going into battle, he marshalled his men in compact order and placed himself at their head. In the first instance he endeavoured to force his way through the royal troops with the intention of reaching Kenilworth. The attempt was frustrated, and he then formed his troops in a solid mass on the summit of a hill, which was speedily surrounded by his enemies. The king, who still remained with the earl, had been encased in armour and placed on horseback. During the confusion of the fight the old man was thrown from his horse, and only escaped being slain by calling out, "Hold your hand, I am Harry of Winchester." The prince, who heard the voice, ran to his father's assistance, placed him on horseback, and carried him to a place of safety. Again and again the royalist troops advanced against the little band on the hill, and again and again were repulsed with heavy loss. Leicester's horse was killed under him—a serious accident in those days, when the motions of the knight were encumbered by a mass of armour—but the earl rose to his feet, and continued the struggle in that position. But the numbers of his foes were overpowering; as a few men with toil and difficulty were driven back, a hundred others stepped forward to supply their place, and it became evident that the contest was hopeless. Leicester then sent messengers to the royalists to demand whether they gave quarter; and the answer returned was that there was no quarter for traitors. His son Henry fell by his side, and each moment some one of the best and bravest of his friends was also struck down. At length the earl himself, after surviving most of the champions of his cause, and standing, as it were, alone, met the fate of his companions and fell sword in hand.

The acts of slaughter by which this victory was followed appear in very unfavourable contrast to the humanity which had been displayed by Leicester and his associates on a similar occasion. The usages of chivalry were altogether lost sight of; and such was the hatred of the royalists towards their opponents, inflamed still further by the gallant resistance they had met with, that no mercy was shown to them. No prisoners were taken, no quarter was given to rich or poor, no offer of ransom stayed the uplifted arm of the smiter; and barons and knights, yeomen and citizens, were mingled in an indiscriminate slaughter.

Leicester was beyond the vengeance of his foes, but nevertheless they gratified their brutal rage upon his inanimate corpse, which they cut up and disfigured in a horrible manner, and in this state presented it to a lady, the wife of one of the earl's most deadly enemies, to whom they appear to have considered that it would prove an acceptable gift. According to their custom, the people of England declared the dead hero to be a martyr, and from the reported holiness of his past life, they considered it certain that miracles would be wrought by him after his death; and such was generally believed to be the case, although, for fear of the king, they did not dare openly to express their belief. Whatever degree of justice there may have been in the popular view of Leicester's character, his name was reverenced among the people for many years, under the title of Sir Simon the Righteous.

The victory of Evesham restored the king at once to his authority. He proceeded to Warwick, where his brother, the King of the Romans, had advanced to meet him, accompanied by many of the noble prisoners of Lewes, who now for the first time regained their liberty. Within a month afterwards a parliament assembled at Winchester. The king was little more than a cipher among the company of his barons. He knew that by their arms his success had been won, and that he owed their support not to any desire for an absolute monarchy, but to a resistance to a power which seemed likely to exceed that of royalty itself. Henry, therefore, made no attempt to revoke the Great Charter; and widely different as his real sentiments and desires may have been, he assented to those measures of constitutional government which were laid before him. But the parliament of Winchester was not proof against personal animosities, and it passed heavy sentences against the family and some of the adherents of Leicester, at the same time depriving the citizens of London of their charter.

Those were not the times in which such measures would be quietly submitted to. In every part of the kingdom some baron raised the standard of insurrection, and maintained a desultory warfare upon the troops and property of the king. Simon de Montfort the younger, with a small band of men, maintained a position for months in the isles of Axholme and Ely, while his retainers still held the castle of Kenilworth against repeated attacks. The Cinque Ports preserved an obstinate defence, and in the forests of Hampshire the famous Adam Gourdon defied the royal authority. This baron was one of the most gallant soldiers of his time, and from the recesses of the forest he conducted rapid movements against the royal troops, inflicting upon them heavy losses. Prince Edward took the field against the rebels, and during two years he had full opportunity of gratifying his taste for war. He passed hither and thither throughout the country, striking a blow now in this direction, now in that, and with varying success.

All the efforts of the prince proved unavailing to bring the insurgents to submission, and it became necessary to relax the stringent measures of punishment which had been adopted, and to make a display of clemency on the part of the government, as an inducement to the rebels to lay down their arms. For this purpose a committee was appointed, consisting of twelve bishops and barons, and their award, known as the "Dictum de Kenilworth," was formally adopted by the king and parliament. This award appears to have been generally received with satisfaction; but at this juncture the Earl of Gloucester quarrelled with the king, and assumed a warlike attitude, asserting that the Dictum of Kenilworth was not sufficiently lenient, nor such as the barons had a right to expect. The citizens of London, indignant at the loss of their charter, witnessed the dissension between the king and Gloucester with great satisfaction, and when the earl took up arms they opened their gates to receive him. But Gloucester was ill-prepared to maintain the contest on which he had entered, and at the approach of the royal army he demanded leave to negotiate. The permission was granted, and Gloucester obtained a pardon for himself on condition of entire submission to the king, while the Londoners purchased their safety for a fine of 25,000 marks.

Henry was naturally of a humane disposition, and he was further dissuaded from harsh measures by the letters of the Pope, who at this time exerted his influence in the cause of humanity and mercy. The determined attitude of the people also showed very clearly the wisdom of such a course of action. It is not an easy thing to conquer Englishmen, even by Englishmen, and the king had good reason to dread the prolonged hostility of his stubborn subjects. It would appear, however, that one chivalrous act on the part of Prince Edward contributed in no small degree to extinguish the spirit of disaffection. In a battle fought in a wood near Alton, the prince encountered the redoubtable Adam Gourdon in single combat. The prince struck him from his horse, and when the vanquished knight lay at his mercy, instead of dispatching him Edward gave him his life, and, on the same night, presented him honourably to the queen, and obtained for him a full pardon. The story ends like a romance, for we are informed that the prince "took Sir Adam de Gourdon into his especial favour, and was ever afterwards faithfully served by him."

On the 18th of November, 1267, a Parliament was held at Marlborough, in which the king adopted some of the most important enactments of the Earl of Leicester, and added to them other laws equally calculated to promote the welfare of the people. The resistance of the insurgents, which was by no means unreasonable, was almost immediately removed by these measures; one after another the barons threw down their arms, the last to do so being the fugitives of the Isle of Ely. These at length joined in accepting the Dictum de Kenilworth, which they had seen scrupulously fulfilled in the case of others.

The country being now restored to a state of tranquillity, Prince Edward took the cross, and determined to proceed to the Holy Land. The papal legate had actively urged him to take this step, and he had the example of Louis IX., afterwards called Saint Louis, who had lately departed on a second crusade. Before quitting the country, Edward took measures which displayed a high degree of wisdom and foresight, having for their object to preserve the peace of the realm during his absence. Among these was a new charter, securing to the citizens of London the restoration of their liberties, and a free pardon to all those nobles who still remained proscribed by the king. In the month of July, 1270, the prince departed with his wife Eleanor, his cousin Henry, the son of the King of the Romans, and nearly 200 English nobles and knights of high degree. The best and bravest of the chivalry of England had assembled round their gallant prince, with all the pomp and pageantry with which the nobles of that age marched forth to war; few, indeed, among them were likely ever to return; but such considerations affected them little, while the Church followed them with its blessing, and the minstrels accompanied them to sing the story of their prowess, and to raise their name from the dust. With the belief that he should attain honour here, and happiness in heaven, the soldier of the Cross might hurl a double defiance at death, and bear an undaunted brow over the deserts of Syria and the mountains of JudÆa.

The young Henry d'Almaine, the son of the King of the Romans, was one of the first to perish in this disastrous expedition. The manner of his death was unusually tragic. He had been dispatched back to England by Edward upon some secret mission, and took his way through Italy, passing through the city of Viterbo, where a new Pope was then being elected. One morning, at an early hour, when he was engaged in saying prayers in one of the churches, he was suddenly aroused by a well-known voice at his side, which exclaimed, in menacing tones, "Thou traitor, thou shalt not escape us!" Turning round hastily, he perceived his two cousins, Simon and Guy de Montfort, who, with their mother the Countess of Leicester, had been driven out of England. The Countess was King Henry's sister, and her sons referred this harsh measure to the influence of the King of the Romans, who had ever been considered as their bitterest enemy. The two de Montforts were in complete armour, and, drawing their swords, they advanced upon their cousin Henry, who, utterly without means of defence, clung to the altar before which he had knelt, while two priests who were in the church threw themselves before him. But his foes were implacable: they neither respected the sanctuary, nor the persons of the ministers of God. The two priests were slain before the altar, and Henry, after being pierced with many wounds, was dragged outside of the church, where his body was mutilated by the murderers, in revenge for the indignities which had been inflicted upon the corpse of their father. They then effected their escape to the castle of the Count Aldobrandini, one of whose daughters had been married to Guy de Montfort, and by whom, it is related, they were protected from the consequences of their infamous deed.

PRINCE EDWARD INTRODUCING ADAM GOURDON TO THE QUEEN. (See p. 311.)