A History of England from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Present Day
by H. O. Arnold-Forster
Part 1: Years 7 and 8
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By The Right Hon. H. O. Arnold-Forster, Author of "The Citizen Reader," "Things New and Old," etc.
Revised Edition by Mrs. Arnold-Forster
Cassell and Company, Limited.
A list of the various countries, islands, Europe Asia Africa |
Kenya America Australasia |
The "Union Jack"
The Union Jack is made up of the three Crosses of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and is thus truly the Flag of the Union. In the early history of England, the Red Cross of St. George by itself was the Flag of England. When the Crowns of England and Scotland were united at the accession of James the VI. of Scotland to the throne of England, under the title of James the 1st, King of Great Britain and Ireland, the White Cross (or Saltire) of St. Andrew was added to the Cross of St. George; but it was not until the Act of Union between England and Scotland in 1707 that the flag containing the Crosses of England and Scotland became by law the National Flag. In 1801, after the Union with Ireland, the Red Cross of St. Patrick was added, and thus the Union Jack was made up.
L-R: Cross of St. Andrew (Scotland), Cross of St. George (England), Cross of St. Patrick (Ireland)
The Union Jack
To William Edward Arnold-Forster, for whose benefit and instruction it was originally designed, and to whose friendly criticism of its proof-sheets the author has frequently been indebted, this book is dedicated by his affectionate father.
Preface.
There is, and it may be hoped there will always be, a demand for a history of England. It would be idle to pretend that the supply is not large and in many respects adequate. At the same time there are undoubtedly many thousands of persons who have neither the means to purchase, nor the leisure to peruse, the great standard works with which the genius and industry of modern historians have happily endowed us, and who yet wish to know something of their country's past, and to understand how, from very small beginnings, our nation has achieved its present great position among the peoples of the earth.
Those who are acquainted with the teaching of history in many of our public and private schools must be aware that the subject often fails to interest, and that some of the historical summaries now in use, though accurate and admirable in many respects, are read as a task and not as a pleasure. In many homes also there is undoubtedly a demand for a History of England of manageable size at a reasonable cost, and written in such a manner as to attract and not to repel young readers. And while it is believed that the present volume may to some extent meet the requirements of schools and of young readers at their homes, it is believed that it may also be found useful to a still larger circle of readers.
A small book, written in simple language, sufficiently full to serve for reference, and at the same time sufficiently interesting to be read as well as to be consulted, a book within the reach of all in matter of price, and rendered attractive by good illustrations copied from first-rate originals, is what very many English men and women, both young and old, undoubtedly require. To supply such a book has been the sole aim of the author. How far success has attended his efforts, the fortunes of this volume, when launched on its career, will show.
A few words may be permitted with regard to the character of the book itself. In adding yet one more volume to the great library of English historical literature, some explanation, or perhaps indeed some apology, is due from the author. To apply the term "A History of England" to a single small volume may seen presumptuous. The record of our national life is so full, so long, so crowded with incident, so elaborate, that even great histories, written in many volumes by master hands, can only illustrate and cannot exhaust the theme to which they are devoted. The author of the present work is very conscious of the fact, and yet is reluctant to introduce his book by any such repellent title as "A Summary," or "An Outline of English History." Such titles seem on the face of them to imply that the element of interest and the romance inseparable from the life and doings of individuals are excluded, and that an amplified chronological table has been made to do duty for a history. But to read English history and fail to realise that it is replete with interest, sparkling with episode, and full of dramatic incident, is to miss all the pleasure and most of the instruction which its study, if properly pursued, can give.
An attempt has therefore been made in the present volume to clothe the skeleton of chronological fact with the flesh and blood which are essential parts of the animated and living figure. In so small a book such an object can only be achieved by sacrificing very much that might well be included in a larger work. It has been necessary to select certain episodes and certain periods for detailed description, while other episodes and other periods receive but scant mention or are relegated to the "Summaries" which will be found at the heads of chapters. But throughout, a consistent endeavour has been made to maintain the thread of interest in the story, and the episodes selected for detailed description are, in the opinion of the author, those which most fittingly express the cardinal fact or the dominating idea of the time in which they occur. If an apparently undue number of pages be devoted to the story of Henry II. and Becket, it is because the story itself is an illustration of the great struggle between the royal and the ecclesiastical power which marked the time. The story of Magna Charta occupies more space than the record of other periods crowded with incident; but the Charter, from the date of its signature down to the present day, is a dominating fact in the whole history of England. The Reformation and the great intellectual revival by which it was preceded and accompanied are treated at some length; and in this and in other instances pains have been taken to give life to the story and to make it interesting to the reader as well as serviceable to those whose studies are, unfortunately for himself, undertaken only with the view of qualifying for an examination.
Of the structure of the book and of its internal history, a word remains to be said. The present volume is based upon a series of books by the author, which have already appeared under the title of "Things New and Old." The earlier part of the series has been almost entirely rewritten. The latter part has been extended and modified in many important particulars, so as to adapt it to general readers, and to make it uniform in style and treatment with the remainder of the volume.
The series on which the present volume is based has undergone the ordeal of public criticism, and the sale of over 100,000 copies has borne testimony to the fact that the work in its earlier shape met the requirements of a considerable number of readers. The author hopes that the present volume will reach even a wider circle, and may be the means of inducing many English men and women to pursue the study of their national history a study which will amply repay them, and in which even the most diligent student will, never exhaust the available material.
H. O. A F.
Contents
Part One: From the Roman to the Norman. 55 B.C -- A.D. 1066
Note
Chapter 1. The Romans in Britain. 55 B.C.-A.D. 436
Britannia
The Landing of the Romans
Britain and the Britons
"In the Year of Our Lord."
Caraetacus and Boadicea
Roman Camps and Roman Roads
Roman Christianity -- Departure of the Romans
Chapter 2. The Coming of the Saxons. 436-449
The Gathering of the Storm
The Sea Rovers
The Ford of the River Medway
Chapter 3. The Saxon Conquest. 449-597
The Breaking of the Storm; or, Britons and Saxons
Names New and Old
Chapter 4. How the Saxons became English and the English became Christians. 597-837
Gregory and the Angels
The Story of Augustine
King Edwin, and the Conversion of Northumbria
The Conversion of Mercia; or the Story of Aidan and Cuthbert
Offa, King of Mercia, and the Rise of the West Saxons
Chapter 5. The Northmen. 837-871
The Coming of the Danes
Chapter 6. The Reign of King Alfred. 871-901
Alfred, the "Truth-Teller."
Alfred's Defeats and Victories
England's First Navy, and the Work and Wisdom of King Alfred
Chapter 7. The English Kings from Edward "the Elder" to Edward "the Martyr." 901-979
Edward the Elder -- The Normans in France
The Victories of Athelstan
Dunstan
Edgar
Chapter 8. The Danish Conquest. 979-1016
Aethelred, "The Un-redy."
St. Alphege
Chapter 9. The Danish Kings and Edward the Confessor. 1016-1066
Edmund Ironside and Canute. Harold and Harthacanute
Edward the Confessor and the Great Earls
Chapter 10. The Norman Conquerors. 1066
The Last of the English Kings
The Battle of Hastings
Chapter 11. The Story of the English
Our Forefathers in Germany
Our Forefathers in England
Chapter 12. The Historians and Writers of England before the Norman Conquest
The Historians and Writers of England Before The Norman Conquest
Part Two: From the Norman Conquest to the Accession of Edward 1066-1272.
Note
Chapter 13. William I. The Norman Conquest. 1066-1087.
The Norman Conquerors
Norman and Saxon
King, Barons, and People
Chapter 14. Feudalism
What Feudalism Means
Chapter 15. William II. "The Red King." 1087-1100
The Sons of the Conqueror
Westminster Hall
Chapter 16. Henry I. 1100-1135
Englishmen and Normans
Chapter 17. Stephen. 1135-1154
A Miserable Reign
Chapter 18. Henry II. 1154-1189
Canterbury Cathedral
The King and the Archbishop
The Quarrel
The Murder
The Pope's Gift
Chapter 19. Richard Coeur-de-Lion. 1189-1199
The Crescent and the Cross
The Crusade
Chapter 20. John The History of the Charters. 1199-1216
John and Arthur
What Charters were, and How They were Won
The Sealing of the Great Charter
Chapter 21. What the Great Charter did for Englishmen
An Englishman's Rights
The Judges of Assize
Personal Liberty and Trial by Jury
How the Law Protects the Weak
Magna Charta and the Seamstress
"Things New and Old."
The Famous "Fifteens."
Chapter 22. Henry III. The Parliament of England. 1216-1272
Henry III. and his Foreign Friends
Laws, and Law-makers
The First Parliament
The Fall of Montfort
Part Three: England Under English Kings. 1272-1485.
Note
Chapter 23. Edward I. and "The Breaking of Wales." 1272-1307
England at War
"The Breaking of Wales."
Chapter 24. Scotland
"Over the Border."
The Fight for the Scottish Crown
Chapter 25. Edward II. "The Making of Scotland." 1307-1327
Edward II.
Bannockburn
Chapter 26. Edward III. "The Ruin of France." 1327-1377
The Beginning of the Great War
Crecy
A Chapter of Victories
Chapter 27. Richard II. 1377-1399
Wat Tyler
The Banishment of Bolingbroke
Geoffrey Chaucer
The Black Death -- John Wycliffe
Chapter 28. Henry IV. 1399-1413
A Troubled Reign
Chapter 29. Henry V. 1413-1422
Agincourt
Chapter 30. Henry VI. "The Freeing of France." 1422-1445
The "Maid of Orleans."
The Loss of France
Chapter 31. York and Lancaster. 1445-1455
The Rival Houses
White Rose and Red Rose
Chapter 32. Edward IV. 1455-1483
The Chances of War -- Wakefield -- St. Albans -- Towton -- Barnet -- Tewkesbury
Chapter 33. The Invention of Printing
William Caxton and the Compositor's Case
The Fall of Constantinople
Chapter 34. Edward V. and Richard III. 1483-1485
The Last of the Plantagenets
The First of the Tudors
The Union of the Roses
Part Four: The Tudors. 1485-1603.
Note
Chapter 35. Henry VII. 1485-1509
The Tudors
The King's Title
Lambert Simnel; or, Carpenter, King, and Kitchen Boy
Perkin Warbeck
How the King Got Rich
What the Rich King did with His Money
Some Royal Marriages
Changes Abroad
Chapter 36. Henry VIII. and England at War. 1509-1547
"Every inch a King."
Foreign Friends and Foes -- The Battle of the "Spurs."
Flodden Field
Chapter 37. The Great Cardinal and the King's Divorce
Cardinal Wolsey
The Fall of Wolsey
"The Defender of the Faith."
Chapter 38. The Protestant Reformation
Martin Luther
The "New Learning" -- Erasmus, Colet, and More
Chapter 39. Henry as Head of the Church
Henry's Quarrel with the Pope, and What It Led to
The "Hammer of the Monks."
Anne of Cleves -- The Fall of Thomas Cromwell
Ireland, Scotland, and France
About Ships, Flags, and Soldiers
Chapter 40. Edward VI. 1547-1553
Lord Protector Somerset
The Fall of Somerset and the Rise of Northumberland
Chapter 41. What the Reformation Meant
The "Old Religion" and the "New."
Freedom of Opinion and Liberty of Conscience
Chapter 42. Mary. 1553-1558
Queen Jane
The Death of Lady Jane Grey
"In Time of Persecution."
The Spanish Marriage
The Oxford Martyrs
The Death of Cranmer
The Loss of Calais
Chapter 43. Elizabeth--The Protestant Queen. 1558-1603
"Good Queen Bess."
The Queen's Ministers -- The Claim of the Queen of Scots
The Act of Uniformity, and the Court of High Commission -- The "Puritans."
The Queen and Her Suitors
Chapter 44. The Sorrowful History of Mary, Queen of Scots
Mary in Scotland
The Flight of Mary, Queen of Scots
The Queen of Scots in England
Chapter 45. Protestants and Roman Catholics Abroad and at Home
The Huguenots
England and Spain
Chapter 46. The Story of the Great Armada
England in Peril
How the "Armada" Came, and what they did in England
"The Enemy in Sight."
"How the Armada Failed."
How the "Armada" went Home Again
Chapter 47. The Last Years of the Great Queen
The Queen and Her Favourite
The Death of the Great Queen
Chapter 48. A New World and a New Age
Rolling Back the Clouds
England's Part in Rolling Back the Clouds
Things "New" or "Old"?
Chapter 49. Literature and Art in the Tudor Period
The Open Bible
Shakespeare
"Nowhere."
Art in the Tudor Period
Chapter 50. Parliament--Dress--Dwellings--Schools--The Calendar
Parliament in Tudor Times
Dresses and Houses
Colleges and Schools
Old Style and New Style, or the Change in the Calendar
Part Five: The Stuarts 1603-1714.
Note
Chapter 51. James Stuart, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland. 1603-1625
How a Stuart became King of England
The New King and His Subjects
The Doctrine of "Divine Right."
The Beginning of Troubles
The Pilgrim Fathers
The Gunpowder Plot
James Quarrels with the House of Commons
The Ancestors of King Edward VII.
The Translation of the Bible
The Union with Scotland, and the Plantation of Ulster
Chapter 52. Charles I. How the King Angered the Parliament. 1625-1630
Cavaliers and Roundheads
The Quarrel Grows
The King Sets Aside Magna Charta
Charles as an Absolute King
The Petition of Right: a Storm in the Commons
Chapter 53. The King defies Parliament. 1630-1642
Ship-money
Two Evil Counsellors
The Long Parliament
The Arrest of the Five Members
Chapter 54. How Parliament punished the King. 1642-1649
War
Cromwell and the "Ironsides."
The Rise of the "Independents" and the "New Model."
The King's Crown Goes Down
The Death of the King
Chapter 55. The Commonwealth of England. 1649-1660
The Commons Triumphant
Cromwell in Ireland
Dunbar and Worcester
The Quarrel with the Dutch
The Fight for the Carrying Trade
The End of the Long Parliament
His Highness the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth
The End of the Commonwealth
The Restoration
Chapter 56. Charles II. 1660-1685
A Fair Beginning
The Dutch in the Medway; or, England Disgraced
Pestilence and Fire
The "Cabal" -- The Test Act -- "Habeas Corpus."
Chapter 57. James II. and the End of Absolute Monarchy in England. 1685-1688
A Bad Beginning
Sedgemoor
From Bad to Worse
The Throne becomes Vacant
Chapter 58. William III. and Mary The Revolution and Limited Monarchy. 1689-1702
Whigs and Tories
The War in Ireland: Enniskillen and Derry
England in Peril
Fighting It Out
The Last Years of King William
The following chapters are not scheduled for AO. In fact, the links won't work. If you'd like to view those chapters, they are here.
Chapter 59. Anne The Last of the Stuarts. 1702-1714
Chapter 60. Constitutional History of the Stuart Period
Chapter 61. Literature in the Stuart Period
Chapter 62. Writers of the Later Stuart Period
Chapter 63. Science, Art, and Daily Life Under the Stuarts
Part Six: From the Accession of the House of Hanover to the Present Time. 1714-1901.
Note
Chapter 64. George I. 1714-1727
Chapter 65. George II. 1727-1760
Chapter 66. Clive, Wolfe, and Washington
Chapter 67. George III. 1760-1820
Chapter 68. The Act of Union with Ireland
Chapter 69. The French Revolution
Chapter 70. The Great War with France. Part 1
Chapter 71. The Great War with France. Part II
Chapter 72. George IV. and William IV. The Great Peace. 1820-1837
Chapter 73. The Days of Queen Victoria. 1837-1852
Chapter 74. The End of the Great Peace and the Story of our own Times 1852-1901
Chapter 75. The Conquests of Peace
Chapter 76. Steps on the Path of Freedom
Chapter 77. Literature and Art since 1714
Part 2 (chapters 59-77) is here.
PART ONE. FROM THE ROMAN TO THE NORMAN. 55 B.C.-A.D. 1066.
Note.
The first part of this book contains a short account of the early history of our country. As will be seen from the dates given above, it covers a great period of time more than eleven centuries. It is very important to bear this fact in mind. In this book, and indeed in every History of England great or small, the space which is given up to describing the events which took place between the landing of the Normans in 1066 and our own time is much larger than that which is given up to a description of the eleven centuries which went before. It is natural that this should be so, because the later we come down in history the more numerous are the records from which we learn what took place. We have much greater knowledge of what occurred in the reign of Queen Elizabeth than we have of what took place in the time of Egbert or Alfred. But it must not be supposed that because we have comparatively little knowledge of what took place in England a thousand or fifteen hundred years ago, the events of those days are without importance, or fail to have their effect in forming the character of the English people as they now are. If we look at the chart which appears at page 104 we shall see at a glance what is the true proportion in the two periods of English history of which we have been speaking, and we shall learn to remember that eleven centuries passed between the day when Julius Caesar landed at Deal, and that on which William the Conqueror landed at Hastings; while, from the time of the Norman landing to the days of King Edward VII. is less than nine centuries.
The great points on which we should fix our attention in reading the history of this period may be shortly put thus:
THE ROMAN CONQUEST, which throws the first light upon our island, and which gives us some knowledge of the Britons who then inhabited it.
THE GREAT ANGLO-SAXON, OR ENGLISH INVASION, which laid the foundation of our people and of our language.
THE CONVERSION TO CHRISTIANITY.
THE STRUGGLE WITH THE DANES, which helped to unite the English people under one head.
THE NORMAN CONQUEST, which gave the nation discipline y strength, and law.
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Chapter 1. The Romans in Briton. 55 B.C. to A.D. 436.
|
Principal events during the time of the Roman occupation of Britain: |
Britannia (Ch 1)
"Britain, the best of islands, is situated in the Western Ocean, between France and Ireland . . . it produces everything that is useful to man. with a plenty that never fails." -- Geoffrey of Monmouth's Chronicle (1140).
Fifty-five years before the birth of Christ, Julius Caesar, at the head of a Roman army, landed on the shores of England. It is on that day that the history of England begins.
Long before the coming of Caesar, men and women had lived and died, and worked and fought, in the land which we now call England. But of their sayings and doings we have no record; no historian has told us of their fortunes, and for all that we know of them, they might never have existed.
Suddenly a great ray of light was thrown upon what before was darkness. Not only did Julius Caesar land upon the shores of our country, but he wrote down in words which may be read at this day the story of the strange new people he had found, and a description of the far-off country in which they lived. And thus it is true to say that the History of England begins with the landing of Julius Caesar, fifty-five years before the birth of Christ.
It is now nearly two thousand years since the landing took place. At that time there was but one great Empire in the world, and one great people who ruled half Europe and vast possessions in Africa. This was the great Roman people, whose chief city was Rome, in Italy, and whose language was the Latin tongue in which Julius Caesar wrote.
News had already come to the Romans that there existed, far away in the Northern seas, an island, or a number of islands, which had never been conquered by the Roman arms. Traders from the Mediterranean sailing up the coast of Spain, and of that country which we now know as France, but which was then called Gallia, or Gaul, had found land far out in the Atlantic, and landing, had discovered rich deposits of tin which they had worked and brought back to Italy. But the stories of adventurous sailors and merchants were soon to be replaced by a much closer acquaintance. Towards the middle of the last century before Christ, a great man, the greatest of all the Romans, had been appointed to the command of the armies in the Roman province of Gaul. [Gallia, or Gaul, was divided into two parts: Gallia Cis-Alpina, or "Gaul this side of the Alps," and which included that part of North Italy which is now known as Piedmont; and Gallia Trans-Alpina, or "Gaul beyond the Alps," which is now the French district of Provence.]
This great man was Julius Caesar. Not content with defending the Roman provinces, he carried war into the whole country of the Gauls. Step by step he came nearer to the northern coast, until at length the Roman camps looked down upon the narrow waters which divide France from England. It is only twenty-two miles from Calais to Dover, and from the coast the Roman soldiers must have seen as clearly as we can at the present day the great white cliffs of an "unvisited land," standing high out of the water to the north.
Already they had given a name to this country, and they knew it to be an island. A great Roman writer who lived in Caesar's day, speaks of Britain separated by almost the entire world. ["Penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos" -- "The Britains almost all the world away". -- Virgil.] And the name which the Romans gave to our land we know and are proud to own at the present day. "Britannia rules the waves.'" Our King is King of Great Britain and Ireland, and the coins with which we do the business of our daily lives still bear upon them the Latin inscription and the name by which Caesar called our country. [The words "Britt: Rex" on the five-shilling piece (see p. 7) are short for "Britanniarum Rex" or, King of Britain. The words written round the penny in the picture stand for "Georgius V. Dei gratia Britanniarum Omnium Rex Fidei Defensor Indiarum Imperator." The meaning of which is "George V, by the grace of God, King of all the Britains, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India."]
The Landing of the Romans. (Ch 1)
"But Rome! 'Tis thine alone with awful sway
To rule mankind, and make the world obey,
Disposing peace and war thy own majestic way;
To tame the proud, the fettered slave to free:
These are imperial arts, and worthy thee."
-- From Virgil's Aeneid, Book VI., translated by Dryden.
Caesar was not the man to leave this new country unexplored and unconquered. In the year 55 B.C. he collected eighty ships and 12,000 men upon the other side of the Channel, close to the place where the town of Calais now stands.
A few hours' sailing and rowing brought the fleet to the foot of the "White Cliffs," but on the shore were to be seen a large number of the Britons who had come down to oppose the landing. The Romans were disappointed, for they hoped they would have taken the Britons by surprise. They feared to land, and they took their ships farther along the coast, until they came to the place where the town of Deal now stands.
There they made up their minds that they would land; but they found that the water was not deep enough to allow their ships to get to the shore. Here, too, were large numbers of Britons, who were ready to fight them as soon as they got to land. At first it seemed as if they would have to sail away once more, but at this moment a brave Roman soldier came forward. This soldier was the standard-bearer of the Romans. Each regiment in our own army has a flag, which is carried with the regiment, and of which all the soldiers are proud. The Roman regiments were called legions, and each legion, instead of a flag, had a standard, on the top of which was the figure of an eagle, made in gold or brass. The standard-bearer, when he saw that the soldiers who were with him in the ship were afraid to land, seized the "eagle" of the legion in his hand, and jumped into the water. "Follow me, my comrades,'" cried he, "if you would not see your eagle taken by the enemy. If I die, I shall have done my duty to Rome and to my General." When the Roman soldiers saw this brave act, they, too, threw themselves into the water, and though it was deep, they waded to the land. The Britons fought courageously against the newcomers, but the discipline and military training of the Roman soldiers prevailed, and the Roman troops disembarked with safety.
In less than three weeks, however, they were compelled to return to Gaul, and it was not till the summer of the next year (54 B.C.) that Caesar returned with a large army to complete his conquest. This time the resistance he met with was serious. The Britons had had time to collect a large army, and under a chief of the name of Cassivelaunus were able for some time to hold the Romans at bay. The Britons fought in a way to which the Romans were not accustomed. They went into battle driving at full speed in chariots. To the wooden wheels of the chariots, scythes or sharp blades were fastened; and as long as the chariot was moving fast the sharp blades on the wheels cut down those who came near it.
But though the Britons had their chariots, the Roman soldiers proved too strong for them, and at length Caesar forced his way as far north as the river Thames, near Wallingford, and the Britons, defeated for a time, consented to make peace, to give hostages, and to promise, if not to pay, a yearly tribute. Having thus added another victory to his long list of triumphs, Caesar returned to Gaul, and thence to Rome, where ten years later (44 B.C.) he met with his death, stabbed by the traitor Brutus and other political enemies in the midst of the Roman senate.
Britain and the Britons. (Ch 1)
"Who can see the green earth any more
As she was by the sources of Time?
Who imagines her fields as they lay
In the sunshine, unworn by the plough?
Who thinks as they thought,
The tribes who once roam'd on her breast,
Her rigorous, primitive sons?"
-- Matthew Arnold: "The Future."
So far we have looked at Britain from a Roman point of view; it is time to inquire what sort of people lived in our island when the Roman invasion first threw the light of history upon it.
Of the early Britons, their life and their habits, we know little but what has been told us by the Roman writers. It is fortunate for us that the age of Julius Caesar was one in which some of the great Roman authors lived, and two of these authors have left us interesting accounts of the Britons. The first account is that given by Caesar himself, who not only was a great general and a great statesman, but one of the clearest and best writers of any age.
A second account we get from the pen of one who, as a writer, was even more famous than Caesar. In a book called the "Agricola," Cornelius Tacitus has written an account of the Britons as they were a hundred years after the date of Caesar's landing.
Agricola, the father-in-law of Tacitus, was at that time governor of Britain, and it is the account which he gave to his son-in-law which is contained in the "Agricola."
From what Caesar and Tacitus tell us we can form some idea of what the Britons were like. By the Romans they were regarded as savages, but it is easy to see, by what the Romans themselves tell us about them, that the Britons were not really savages at all. English people in our own time sometimes make the same mistake which the Romans made, and treat the people of other countries as savages and far below them, just because their habits are strange and their ways of thought are not like our own.
We do not know a very great deal about what the Britons were really like, but we do know some things about them. The men were tall and handsome, and fought bravely in battle; but it seems as if they were rather too fond of fighting, for not only did they fight against the Romans and other enemies who came from abroad, but they often quarrelled and fought amongst themselves. They lived in villages made up of a number of small houses or huts surrounded by a high wall. They lived chiefly by hunting and fishing, and there were always plenty of wild animals to kill and fish to catch, for we must not forget that at the time we are speaking of, England was very different from what it is now; the country was covered with thick forests, and the rivers, instead of being shut in between close banks, often spread over the land and made great swamps and marshes. In the forests there were wolves, wild boars, and many other animals which are quite unknown in England in our own day. It was of the skins of these animals that the Britons made their clothes.
The Britons did not drink wine, but they made a strong drink of honey. This drink is sometimes made now; it is called mead. The Britons were heathens and believed that there were many gods. Their priests were called Druids. These Druids were very strange people; they used to pretend that they had great and terrible secrets which were known to them and to nobody else. They said that their gods lived in the very thickest and darkest parts of the woods, and they used to go to pray to their gods under the great oaks in the forests; they wore long white robes, and the people held them in great awe.
The Druids have been dead hundreds of years, and their religion has long been forgotten; but there are still some things in England in our own time to remind us of the white-robed Druids and their strange religion.
If we take the train to Salisbury, and then take a carriage and drive rather more than ten miles over Salisbury Plain, we shall suddenly come to a very strange sight. In the middle of the plain we shall see a number of great stones -- some of them lying on their sides on the grass, others standing straight up, and some of them resting upon other great stones in the way shown in the picture. The stones are of enormous size and very heavy -- many of them are from twenty-three to twenty-eight feet high.
It seems a wonder how such heavy stones ever got to be set up in this way; but we shall find a still more wonderful thing about some of the stones when we come to look more closely at them. We shall find that they are not of the same kind as the stones which are found upon Salisbury Plain, but that they are of a kind which must have come from a long way off.
The place in which these strange stones have been set up is Stonehenge, in the middle of Salisbury Plain, and the stones were set up there before the time of Julius Caesar by the Druids whom we have been reading about. Stonehenge was one of the places where the Druids used to worship their gods; and though no one quite knows why they set up the stones, it is certain that they were looked upon by the Britons as being very sacred.
Once there were a great many more stones standing up than can be seen now. If the stones which have fallen down were still in their places, we should see that the Druids had made two great circles, one inside the other; the outside one of big stones, and the inside one of smaller ones. On page 11 there is a picture of what Stonehenge must have looked like before any of the stones fell down. There are other rings of stones in England, but the one at Stonehenge is the largest and most interesting. All these stones were put up by the Druids; and they can be seen to this day by Englishmen, and will help to remind them of the Britons who lived in our land two thousand years ago.
There is another thing besides the great stone circle which ought to remind us of the Druids. Most of us, whether we live in town or country, have seen the sprigs of green leaves with white berries which are put up among the holly and the laurel leaves at Christmas. They are the Mistletoe leaves and berries which are gathered from plants which grow on the stems of the trees in Herefordshire, Gloucestershire, and in many other parts of England.
It is not easy at first to guess why it is that Mistletoe is hung up in so many houses at Christmas time. To find out the answer to the question we must go back a very long way in history, until we come to the time of the Druids. It was the Druids who first used the mistletoe. They thought that its berries were sacred or holy, and they often put them up in the places where they prayed to their gods.
We have long forgotten all about the gods to whom the Druids prayed, but we have not forgotten about the mistletoe they were so fond of. The Romans came over and conquered the Britons, the great stones at Stonehenge tumbled down, and many changes, good and bad, took place in England, but the use of the mistletoe bough was never quite forgotten; and when the people of England learned to pray to another God, and found that the gods of the Druids were false gods, they still went on using the sacred mistletoe. And thus it happens that when, in our own time, we come to Christmas Day, the day on which we commemorate the birth of Christ, we still put up in our houses the mistletoe berries, which the old Druids first prized in the time of the Britons.
"In the Year of Our Lord." (Ch 1)
"For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." Luke ii. 11.
It was not till nearly a hundred years after Julius Caesar had gone away that the Romans came a second time into Britain. Julius Caesar was dead, and the Roman Emperor was Claudius. Claudius determined that he would follow the example of Julius Caesar, but that this time the Britons should be really beaten, and that their country should belong to Rome.
But, before we follow the fortunes of the army which Claudius sent to Britain, there is one thing which we must notice. If we wish to write down the year in which Julius Caesar came to Britain, we write it in this way "55 B.C."; but if we want to write the year in which Claudius sent an army, we put "A.D. 43."
What do "B.C." and "A.D." mean? The letters "B.C." mean "before Christ," and, therefore, "55 B.C." means fifty-five years before Christ was born. The letters "A.D." stand for two Latin words Anno Domini which mean "in the year of our Lord." "A.D. 43" means forty-three years after the year in which Christ was born.
People now sometimes write the year in which we live in this way they say "A.D. 1900," or "A.D. 1910," meaning that the year in which we live is the one thousand nine hundredth, or the one thousand nine hundred and tenth year after the year in which Christ was born. Now, we can easily understand that, between the year 55 B.C. and the year A.D. 43, a great thing must have happened.
It was in the years between the coming of Julius Caesar and the coming of the Romans in the time of Claudius that the great event which divides the history of the old world from that of the new had taken place, and that Christ was born in Bethlehem. While the memory of the Roman general who had defeated their armies was still fresh in the minds of the people of Britain, and while they were anxiously looking out for the return of the Roman galleys, a Roman Emperor had issued a Decree "that all the world should be taxed," and a Roman officer commanding in the Province of Judaea had carried out the Imperial order. A Roman magistrate, sitting in the Judgment Hall at Jerusalem, had allowed sentence of death to be passed upon the Prisoner whom the Jews had brought before him. Jesus had been crucified, and His death had been the birth of a new hope, of a new life, and of a new faith which was to spread throughout the world. The birthday of England as we know it is almost the same as the birthday of Christianity, and the twentieth century of the Christian Era is the twentieth century in the history of our country.
And thus we see that if we want to know when the history of our country, so far as we know anything about it, begins, we have only to remember that it began just before the birth of Christ, and that, if we know the year in which we live, we shall know the number of years which have passed since the Romans first came to Britain.
Caraetacus and Boadicea. (Ch 1)
"When the British warrior Queen,
Bleeding from the Roman rods,
Sought, with an indignant mien,
Counsels of her country's gods." -- Cowper.
When the Romans came with Julius Caesar, they only stopped in Britain for two years, but when they came a second time under Claudius they, and their descendants after them, remained for over three hundred and sixty years. At first they brought nothing but war and misery with them. The Britons fought fiercely. This time they were led by a chief called Caractacus, who for a long time was able to keep up a successful resistance to the Roman armies. But at last he was beaten in a great battle, and was taken prisoner. He was sent to Rome, and there brought before the Emperor Claudius (A.D. 51).
When Caractacus was brought before Claudius, he spoke to him boldly and told him that he was not ashamed of what he had done, but proud of it -- that he had only fought for his country. "I am in your power," said he to the Emperor, "and you can do what you please with me; but I am only here because I was true to my country, and because I would not promise to obey your laws and to be your servant. You can put me to death, but you will gain more honour if you spare my life." When Claudius and the Roman officers who stood with him heard these brave words, they could not help admiring the proud Briton. Claudius commanded that the prisoner's life should be spared and that he should be well treated.
But the war between the Romans and the Britons did not end when Caractacus was taken prisoner. There arose among the Britons a fresh leader, whose name has become famous in our history. This leader was Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni, the widow of one of the British Chiefs.
Boadicea hated the Romans, and she had good reason to do so; for not only had they been very unjust to her husband when he was alive, but when she went to complain to the Roman Governor, instead of doing justice, he ordered her to be seized and to be beaten with rods. Boadicea therefore hated the Romans, both because they were enemies of her country and because they had been cruel to her. She called upon her countrymen to join her in resisting the enemy, and many of them gathered round her, prepared to follow wherever she led them.
It is said that Boadicea was tall and beautiful, with long flowing hair, and that she appeared before her people clad in a long robe and with a gold chain about her waist. Her beauty and her courage made her loved by the Britons, and the Romans soon learnt to fear her. In more than one battle the Britons, under Boadicea, defeated the Roman soldiers, and for a time it seemed as if the brave queen would succeed in driving her hated enemies out of the land.
The Romans had built a town upon the banks of a river which we now call the Thames. The name of the town was Londinium, a name which we now know much better as London. Already Londinium had become a large place, and besides the Romans who lived there, there were many Britons who had taken the side of the Romans. It was to Londinium that Boadicea now led her army. As she came near the town, the Roman soldiers saw that there were not enough of them to resist the great army of the Britons, and they marched away, leaving behind them all their friends who had trusted them. Soon Boadicea came to the gates, and, once inside the town, the fierce Britons showed no mercy. Thousands of the people of Londinium were killed, and the town was all but destroyed.
But the British Queen had won her last victory. The Roman general, whose name was Suetonius, collected his scattered troops, and marched against the Queen. Boadicea, on her side, was ready for the battle. She called upon the Britons to fight like men, to rid their country of its enemies, and to avenge the cruelty which had been done to herself. She stood in the midst of the army, and declared that she would rather kill herself than allow herself to be taken prisoner by the Romans. The battle began. The army of the Britons was far larger than that of the Romans, but the Roman soldiers had long been taught how to fight together, and to obey the orders that were given them. It was not long before the battle was over. The Britons were quite unable to resist the Romans. No less than eighty thousand of them were killed. Boadicea herself was true to her promise. Rather than be taken prisoner by the Romans, she took poison, and thus ended her own life (A.D. 62). With her death ended the hopes of the Britons, and from that time the Romans were masters of the whole country.
Roman Camps and Roman Roads. (Ch 1)
"Thine, Roman, is the pilum:
Roman, the sword is thine,
The even trench, the bristling mound,
The legion's ordered line."
-- Macaulay: "Prophecy of Capys."
[pilum is a short, broad-headed heavy spear borne by the Roman soldiers.]
After the death of Bcadicea, the Romans soon became masters of nearly all that part of Britain which we now call England. At first they had to fight many battles, but after a time the Britons submitted to the Romans and agreed to obey their laws. For nearly four hundred years the Romans stopped in this country, and in our own day we can still find many marks of the things they did while they were here.
It would indeed be strange if, after they had been so long in Britain, the Romans had not left something by which we might remember them. They were a very wonderful people, and have set an example in many things to all the nations who have come after them. The Roman soldiers were the wonder of the world. During time of peace they were always practising what they would have to do in time of war. They could fight well, and they could march well. Nor was this all; they knew how to protect themselves against an enemy as well as they knew how to attack an enemy when they wished.
Whenever the Roman soldiers came to the end of a day's march, in whatever part of the world they were, they did the same thing. They built a wall of earth, and made a ditch round their camp, and, as all the soldiers knew how to work, and all worked together, the ditch was dug, and the wall was built, before the soldiers lay down to sleep. Sometimes they built much larger camps than those which were wanted for one night only. These camps had deep ditches and high walls, and they were usually placed on the top of a hill. In many parts of England these Roman camps may still be seen; and not only are the camps themselves still to be found in England, but the very names by which the Romans called them are used by Englishmen every day. The Latin word for camp is "castra"; and though we have not got exactly the word "castra" in English, we have something like it. We have all heard of Chester, the capital of Cheshire, which stands on the river Dee. The word "Chester" is really the same as "castra" and Chester got its name because in the time of the Romans there was a camp or strong place full of soldiers there.
But Chester is not the only place where we find a Roman name. We have Chi-chesber, Ro-Chester, Man-Chester, and many others; and we have also the word castra written caster, in such places as Lancaster, Doncaster, Tad-caster. The names of all these places tell us quite plainly that the Roman soldiers once upon a time built their wall and dug their ditch there in the days that came after the landing of Julius Caesar.
The Romans, too, were great builders; they knew how to erect large buildings of stone and specially of brick. Most of the buildings which they built in Britain have fallen into ruin, but parts of them have been found in many places; and enough is left to show how beautiful the buildings must have been when they were new. The floors of the houses were paved with tiles in artistic patterns; there were carved pillars inside and outside the houses. There were baths supplied with hot water, and there were many comforts which we sometimes think were not known before our own time. In some places beautiful statues have been dug up, and many thousands of gold and silver and copper coins have been found which have stamped on them the heads of the Roman Emperors, and Latin words which tell us something about the coins. But though the Romans were famous as builders of houses, they were still more famous as makers of roads. The Romans were the first people to make great roads fiom one end of England to the other. The roads were paved with stone, and they ran in a straight line up hill and down dale from one town to another. Nowadays it would not be considered wise to take the roads straight up the hills; it is more usual to go round a hill rather than to go up it. But the Romans were quite right to do as they did in their time. If we want to go from one place to another, the shortest distance between the two places is always a straight line. In the picture on this page are two points, A and B, and there is a straight line joining them. We may try as long as we like, but we cannot find a shorter way from A to B than the straight line.
The reason why we do not make our roads go in a straight line now is that we use a great many carriages and carts, and it is very hard for a horse to pull a carriage or a cart up-hill. But when the Romans were in Britain, carriages and carts were scarcely used at all, and those who went on long journeys travelled either on foot or on horseback; their luggage was taken from place to place on the backs of horses or mules. The hills, therefore, did not matter very much, and a straight road enabled the Roman soldiers to get from place to place very quickly. There are many places in England where the roads still follow exactly the same line as the old Roman roads.
Sometimes we come to a stretch of road which goes on quite straight for several miles; we may generally be sure that we are on the line of a road which has never changed for eighteen hundred years, and which was first planned by one of the Roman officers under the command of Vespasian or Severus, or Titus, or some other Roman general. The best known Roman roads in England are called "The Watling Street," which goes from London to Chester; "The Fosse Way," which goes from Bath to Lincoln; "The Ermine Street," which goes from London to Lincoln and on to York; and "The Seaside Road," [Via Maritima] which runs all along the sea-coast of Wales down into Pembrokeshire.
Besides their buildings and their roads, the Romans have also left us a very wonderful mark of their work on the border between England and Scotland. After the Romans had made peace in that part of Britain which is now called England, and had begun to rule quietly there, they found that they were often troubled by enemies who came down from the country which we now call Scotland; these enemies were known as the "Picts."
The Romans fought and beat the Picts many times, but they found them so troublesome that at last they built a great wall right across the country to keep them out. The Roman Emperor Hadrian ordered the wall to be built (A.D. 121), and after Hadrian's death another Roman Emperor, named Severus, built a second wall. This wall is called "The Wall of Severus," and many parts of both are still to be seen in our own day. So that there are many things still left in our country to remind us that the Romans once ruled over it.
Roman Christianity -- Departure of the Romans. (Ch 1)
"And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time."
Longfellow: "Psalm of Life."
There is one other thing which the Romans gave to this country, and which would have been the most important of all their gifts had it lasted. This great gift was Christianity, which was first introduced into England during the time of the Roman occupation. After many struggles and much suffering the Christians had obtained permission to carry on their worship at Rome. Gradually their teaching spread until, in the year 312, Constantine the Great, the first Christian Emperor, ascended the throne.
In the year 306 Christianity had been already introduced into England under the rule of Constantine, whose British mother, Helena of York, became known in after years by the name of St. Helena. But though Constantine was a Christian, he was unable to protect those of his own religion from the fierce persecution of the Emperor Diocletian. Many of the British Christians, it is said, were put to death for refusing to give up their religion, and the name of Alban has been handed down to us as that of the first martyr in the British Church. His name is still preserved by the famous Cathedral of St. Albans, in Hertfordshire. The persecution, however, did not prevent the spread of Christianity. Bishops were created, and churches were built. Of these churches traces have been found in our own day, but for the most part they were destroyed in the terrible years that followed the departure of the Romans from Britain. Roman Christianity was indeed swept away, and Britain once more became a pagan land.
The Romans stopped in Britain for nearly four hundred years, and during the greater part of that time there was peace and quiet in the country. So long as the Roman soldiers were here, there was little fear of any fresh enemy coming and taking the country. But at length there came news from Rome that a formidable enemy was marching against Italy, and that the Emperor was afraid that Rome itself would be taken. At such a time every Roman soldier was needed to defend Italy and Rome; and orders were therefore sent that the armies which were in Britain should return to Italy.
This was sad news for the Britons, for by this time they had come to look upon the Romans more as friends than as foes, and they feared to lose the Roman soldiers who had so long protected them from every enemy. Besides, the Romans had built towns in Britain; many of them were married to British wives, and they had begun to teach the Britons the arts which they had brought with them from Italy.
For all these reasons, the Britons were naturally grieved when the order came for the Roman legions to sail across the Straits of Dover and to leave the white cliffs of Britain behind them. But a soldier must do what he is ordered, and the Romans were too good soldiers to disobey the orders which they received from Rome. The legions marched down to the sea-coast, got into their ships, and sailed away across the sea on their road home to Italy.
What happened to the legions when they got to Rome, and how the great city of Rome, which had conquered so many countries, was at last itself conquered, can be read in the history of Rome. But we are reading the history of England, and we must now bid farewell to the Roman soldiers as we lose sight of the sails of their ships crossing the Channel between England and France.
Chapter 2. The Coming of the Saxons. 436-449.
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Famous persons who lived during the period described in this chapter: Principal event during the period described in this chapter: |
The Gathering of the Storm (Ch 2)
"Dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming on of storm."
-- Longfellow.
Now that we have seen the last of the Roman soldiers sailing back to their own country, we must return once more to the story of Britain and of the Britons now left behind without the protection of the Roman sword. For nearly four hundred years the Britons had been ruled over by a people stronger than themselves, and, though they had doubtless gained much from their masters, the very fact that they had not had to depend upon their own valour for their own safety had made them less fit to resist an enemy than on the day when they stood on the shore at Deal, ready to face the legions of Julius Caesar.
A people which has ceased to rely upon itself for its own defence must always be in danger. The Britons had learnt to rely upon the Romans to fight their battles for them, but now they would have to fight their own battles themselves. It was not long before their strength was put to the test by an enemy more terrible than any they had yet had to encounter.
It sometimes happens that before the beginning of a great storm, when the sky has already become overclouded and the air has become still and hushed, a few big drops of rain come splashing down by themselves, and seem to tell us of the downpour which will so soon drench the earth. Something like this happened in Britain in the years which passed just before the Romans sailed away.
From time to time there reached the shores of Britain ships filled with fierce soldiers from a land across the seas; these men were tall, strong, fair-haired, armed with swords and axes, and talking a language quite different from that of either the Britons or the Romans. Wherever they landed they brought fear and alarm with them. They robbed the people and killed those who resisted them; and, after they had taken what plunder they could get, they launched their ships and sailed away again to the land from which they came.
But so long as the well-drilled Roman soldiers remained, these warlike strangers did not do more than visit the coasts of Britain and sail away again. The Roman armies were always ready to meet them and to protect the Britons. But these short visits were like the raindrops; they foretold the terrible storm which was soon to break over Britain.
The Sea Rovers (Ch 2)
"Thirty men they each commanded,
Iron-sinewed, horny-handed,
Shoulders broad, and chest expanded;
Tugging at the oar.
These, and many more like these,
With King Olaf sailed the seas,
Till the waters vast
Filled them with a vague devotion,
With the freedom and the motion,
With the roll and roar of ocean,
And the sounding blast."
-- Longfellow: "The Saga of King Olaf."
And now it is time to ask who these new-comers were, and from what land they had sailed in their ships.
The country from which these people came is now a portion of what we call Germany. It touches the shores of the Baltic Sea, and of the German Ocean, and it comes down close to that part which we now call Holland. The people who came from these countries belonged to three tribes or nations. These tribes or nations were called the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes.
We cannot tell exactly what it was that made the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes leave their own country and sail across the sea to Britain. Perhaps it was that they thought their own country was a poor one, and they wished to find some more fertile land in which to live. It is very likely that they had such a thought, for even now the north of Germany and the south of Denmark, which are the countries in which the Jutes and the Angles lived, are barren and sandy, covered in many places with forests of fir-trees, and unfit to grow wheat upon.
There were other reasons, too, which made the Jutes, the Angles, and the Saxons wish to cross the sea. There were other nations behind them who kept attacking them and driving them forward down to the sea; and when they got there, they were glad to seek for a new country in which no one would disturb them.
And, last of all, there was, no doubt, another reason which made the Jutes, the Angles, and the Saxons leave their homes. They had just the same love of adventure which many English people have nowadays. They loved to travel, and to find new lands; and if, when they came to a new land, they had to fight for it, they did not object. Indeed, they liked fighting quite as well as being at peace -- perhaps better; and in this matter, too, they were not unlike some Englishmen in our own day, who like adventures all the better if there be danger in them.
No sooner had the last of the Roman soldiers left the shores of Britain, and the strong power of the Romans been taken away, than the storm which had been so long hanging over England began to break. The Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes came over the sea in their ships, not as before, a few at a time, but in great numbers. They did not, as before, land to plunder and sail away again, but they landed upon our shores and stopped there, with no thought of going back to their own country. All along the south coast of England their ships were to be seen. Everywhere the Britons resisted, but everywhere, in the long run, the result was the same. The new-comers were victorious, and step by step they pushed the Britons further back from the coast.
The Ford of the River Medway (Ch 2)
"History repeats itself."
Among the earliest of the invaders were two great Saxon chiefs named Hengist and Horsa, who are said to have landed at Ebbsfleet, in Kent, in the year 449. For a time they settled in the Isle of Thanet, but picking a quarrel with the Britons, they marched with their armies upon London. The story runs that a great battle took place upon the River Medway, in the year 455, at a place called Aylesford, and that in this battle Horsa was killed. It is not certain whether the story of the death of Horsa be more than a legend, but it seems clear that at or about the time named a great battle did take place between the Saxons and the Britons, in which the Britons tried to prevent the Saxons crossing the Medway and getting to London, and that in this battle the Britons were defeated.
It is interesting to remember that, over and over again, battles have been fought upon the River Medway for just the same reason as this battle between the Saxons and the Britons. If we look at the map, we shall see that the part of England which is closest to the continent of Europe is the county of Kent, and that anyone who lands in the county of Kent, and wants to get to London, will have to cross the River Medway. He will not try to cross where it is very broad, but he will be forced to go up as far as Chatham, where the stream is narrow, and where there is now a bridge over it. The easiest and the shortest way from the coast of Kent to London, is across the Medway at Chatham; and it is for this reason that, all through English history, those who wanted to defend London against an enemy, have made a great fortress at Chatham.
If we go to Chatham now, we can still see what is left of the fortresses which our forefathers built at different times. The Romans, who were very great soldiers, always knew which was the best place for a fortress, and they were the first to make a great "camp" close to Chatham. The towns of Rochester and Chatham touch each other. Now "Chester," as we have already learnt, is really the Latin word for a "camp," and we know, therefore, from the name that there was a Roman camp at Rochester.
After the Romans had gone, the Britons in their turn made a strong fortress at Chatham, and when the Saxons came, this fortress prevented them crossing the river at this place. They were forced to come up the bank of the river till they reached Aylesford. Then the Saxons built a strong fortress at Chatham, and after them the Normans, of whom we shall read later on, built a great stone castle, of which there is a picture on the next page, and which, though it is in ruins, can be seen at the present day. After gunpowder was invented, the Norman castle was not strong enough to defend the crossing of the Medway, and another fortress, built of earth and brick, was made in its place. The greater part of these earth and brick walls still remain, and we can see them any day if we go to Chatham. And now, quite lately, a new fortress has been built all round Chatham, to prevent an enemy crossing the Medway, and to protect the ships of war which lie at Chatham.
And so we see that though times have changed, and though many years have gone by, the reason which made the Britons defend the Medway in the time of Hengist and Horsa, more than fourteen hundred years ago, is the reason which makes us defend it with a great fortress in the days in which we live.
Chapter 3. The Saxon Conquest 449-597 (Ch 3)
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
The Breaking of the Storm; or, Britons and Saxons (Ch 3)
"Cold is Cadwallo's tongue,
That hush'd the stormy main:
Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed:
Mountains, ye mourn in vain
Modred, whose magic song
Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head."
-- Gray: "The Bard."
From the time of the landing of Hengist and Horsa, the history of England ceases to be an account of either the Britons or the Romans, and is occupied with the spread and final settlement of the great flood of German invaders which now began to pour into the country. For two hundred years the invasion continued, one wave following another. At the end of that time we find the various tribes of invaders firmly established in England; we find them divided into many separate kingdoms under various leaders. The Britons have been driven out and are no longer to be feared, and the new-comers have begun to quarrel fiercely among themselves.
Nearly four centuries pass, during which first one Saxon kingdom, and then another, becomes the most powerful, and defeats its rivals. At last, in the year 827, Egbert, King of the West Saxons, becomes the first king of all England. The chief work of the king of the united country is to defend it against the attack of fresh invaders, the fierce Danes, who for a time seem likely to treat the Saxons as the Saxons treated the Britons. And lastly, Saxons and Danes together are forced to give battle to yet another invader, and are defeated by the Normans at the Battle of Hastings in the year 1066.
The story of the events which have just been referred to must be told at greater length; but it is well to look forward a little at this point in our history, in order that we may understand how great a period of time elapsed before the first landing of the Jutes in 449, and the conquest of England by the Normans in 1066.
In this book, as in every other history of England, great or small, far more space is given up to the events which took place after the year 1066, than to those which took place before that date; and yet, if we look at the scroll which is unfolded at page 104, we shall see that the portion of our history which is so fully described occupied far less time than that of which so scanty an account is given. From the landing of Julius Caesar to the time of the Norman Conquest is little more than eleven hundred years; while the period which elapsed between the landing of Hengist and Horsa and the coming of the Normans in 1066, which is described in a few short chapters in this book, was no less than six centuries.
It is easy to understand why our history should contain much shorter descriptions of early times than of late times. The historian can only write of things which he has learnt through books and records. In our own day everything which takes place, is written down, and the great difficulty of the historian is to know what things are important enough to be told by him; but in the early Saxon days there was little writing, and in those times of fierce wars even the few written documents which did exist had little chance of escaping destruction.
It is important to remember these things, because we are sometimes liable to forget that the life of a people goes on just the same in days of which history gives us little or no account, as in days when every event is written down and recorded. Although we know less about the six hundred years which passed between the landing of Hengist and Horsa and the landing of the Normans, than we do of the eight hundred years which followed the last-named event, we must not suppose that they were, on that account, less important, or had less effect in making our country and our people what they are, than the last eight centuries of which history tells us so much.
The two hundred years of our history which follow the landing of Hengist are occupied with the invasion of our islands by the Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes. Not in one year, nor, indeed, in many years, was the invasion accomplished. Fierce battles were fought, in some of which, if the old British legends sung by the Bards can be believed, the Britons won the victory. Of one great battle, of which the name has come down to us, the battle of Badon Hill, the legend seems undoubtedly true. [Fought probably in the neighbourhood of Bath, or some think at Badbury, in Dorsetshire.]
But though victory sometimes cheered the Britons, the end was always the same. Checked for a moment, the new-comers waited until fresh ships could come over the sea bringing more of their friends to help them.
The fight between the Saxons and the Britons was very different from that which had taken place five hundred years before between the Briton and the Romans. The Roman armies had beaten the people of Britain and made them obey the laws of Rome. But the Britons, who remained in their land, had learnt to live peaceably and quietly under the Romans. Many of the Romans married British wives, and the Romans taught the Britons many arts and accomplishments which the Britons were quite ready to learn. But it was quite different when the Saxons came. They did not spare their enemies; they drove all before them, and those who did not fly they put to death. They took the lands of the Britons for themselves, and drove from them all those who had formerly lived on them. And so it happened that, at the end of the long fight between the Saxons and the Britons, nearly the whole of England was inhabited only by the Angles, the Jutes, and the Saxons; and the Britons who had been left alive were shut up in a small part of this island.
If we look at the map on the opposite page, we shall see a broad line which runs down one side. This line runs from Carlisle to Chester, from Chester to Cardiff, and from Cardiff to Plymouth. On the left hand that is to say, on the West side of this line we shall see marked Cornwall, Wales, and Strathclyde. We know Cornwall and Wales nowadays, but we no longer know anything about Strathclyde. Strathclyde is really that part of England and Scotland in which the counties of Cumberland, Westmorland, Renfrew, Lanark, Ayr, Dumfries, Kirkcudbright, and Wigtown now are. It was into these three parts of our island that the unfortunate Britons were pushed by the Saxons, and it is easy to see how this came about.
The Saxons, the Jutes, and the Angles came over from the North of Europe, and landed on the East side of England. As they pushed the Britons before them, it was only natural that they should at last push them up against the farthest edge of the island; and thus it was that the Britons came to be found in Wales, Cornwall, and Strathclyde only. Many of those who live now in these parts of the kingdom are descended from the ancient Britons; and the beautiful and interesting language of Wales is really that of our British forefathers. In Cornwall this language is no longer spoken; but if we go across the Channel to France, we shall find that in the province of Brittany, the province whose very name reminds us of Britain, a language is still spoken which is almost the same as that which is spoken by many Welshmen today in the counties of Merioneth and Carnarvon. Although the greater part of England is now inhabited by men and women of Saxon race, and who naturally speak English, it must not be forgotten that the ancient British race still is to be found in Wales. To those who only know English, many of the Welsh names appear strange, difficult to pronounce, and impossible to understand; but that is only because Englishmen do not, as a rule, know the meaning of the Welsh names. When we find such names as Wells, Bath, Red-ditch, Cold-stream, and so on, we think them natural enough, because they are made up of simple words with which we are familiar. But when we see such names as Llwmpia, Llwyn Helig, and Pontrhydvendigred, we think them strange, forgetting that to those who know the language to which they belong they are just as simple, and have as much meaning, as our own English names, and that "Magpies' Grove," "Willow Grove," and the "Bridge of the Blessed Ford" tell their own stories quite plainly to those who still speak the language of the Britons.
The defeat and expulsion of the Britons meant also the defeat and expulsion of Christianity from all that part of England which the heathen invaders made their own. The churches which had been built in Roman times were destroyed; the priests were put to death, or barely escaped with their lives to the mountains of Wales. Once more the land was inhabited by a heathen people worshipping idols.
But though the worship of Christ was for the time almost entirely banished from England, there still remained in the western part of our island a small remnant of the British population, who did, undoubtedly, preserve their faith and maintain their churches through all the dark years of the early Saxon invasions. In Wales Christianity never altogether died out; and though it does not appear that the Welsh Christians ever attempted to teach their religion to the Saxons, they rendered a great service to England in another way. From the Welsh coasts Christian teachers found their way over to Ireland, and there preached and taught with great success. We shall see how, in later days, Irish teachers came back to England, and how they helped to convert the Saxons, whose ancestors had destroyed the Church of the Britons and had driven the British Christians across the Irish Channel.
Names New and Old (Ch 3)
The waters murmur of their name;
The woods are peopled with their fame;
The silent pillar, lone and gray.
Their memory sparkles o'er the fountain;
The meanest rill, the mightiest river,
Rolls mingling with their fame for ever."
-- Byron.
And now we must return to the history of the invaders who had succeeded in winning for themselves the possession of our country. We know that, for the most part, they were made up of three great tribes or nations -- the Jutes, the Saxons, and the Angles. Let us see whether we know anything about them nowadays. We certainly do not know the name Jutes in England; but we have only to cross the North Sea to Denmark, the land from which the Jutes came, and we shall find there the province of Jutland, or the land of the Jutes; so the name of the Jutes is not yet forgotten. Do we know the name of the Saxons in England? We do not, but of the Saxons who live in the kingdom of Saxony, in the German Empire, we all know something; yet the name of Saxon is not altogether unfamiliar to us in England itself. The Highland Scots still call the English-speaking Lowlanders "Sassenach," or Saxon, and there are few who have not heard the English people themselves called "Anglo-Saxons." The term describes the people descended from the Angles and the Saxons together; and thus, though we have no Saxons, so called, in England, we have millions of people who are often described as Anglo-Saxons.
And now we come to the last of the great invading peoples, the Angles. Do we know anything of the Angles in England at the present day? We have seen that there is Jutland, the land of the Jutes; that there is Saxony, the land of the Saxons -- is there also an Angleland, the land of the Angles? Undoubtedly there is. It is true that we do not call that land "Angleland," but we call it by a name so similar that there is no difficulty in guessing in a moment what that country is. If, instead of Angleland, we say England, we shall see that the Angleland to which the Angles came is our own England in which we live and whose name is so famous throughout the world. It is to the Angles that we owe the name of our country and the great English language which we speak.
The Saxons who drove out and defeated the Britons were heathens and worshipped idols. Their gods were called Thor and Woden, Freia, and Tu, or Tuesco; these were their chief gods, and there were others besides. It is many hundred years ago since anybody living in England worshipped Thor, Woden, Freia, or Tuesco. We shall read further on how the Saxons became Christians, and how they gave up their belief in their old gods. But though we who live in England no longer worship the gods of the Saxons, it would not be true to say that we have forgotten all about them; on the contrary, not a day passes on which we do not mention the name of one or other of them. This seems strange at first, but it is quite true. When we say that we will do a thing on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, we are really giving the names of four of the old gods of the Saxons. This is clear when we come to think over the names of the days of the week.
What does Tuesday mean? It means Tuesco's Day, which we have cut short and made into Tuesday. It is not hard to guess that Wednesday is the same thing as Woden's Day; Thor's Day only needs to be altered by one letter to become Thursday; while Friday, as we can guess in a moment, is the day of the goddess Freia. [Sunday is, of course, the day of the Sun; Monday, the day of the moon; while Saturday, or "Saeterday," means Saturn's day.]
And so we see that, when we speak of the days of the week, we are really going back into the history of England, and are using words and names which were first brought into England by the Saxons who landed on our shores with Hengist and Horsa. History becomes more real when we find out things like this. They show us that we have really and truly come down from the Saxons who landed in England fourteen hundred years ago; and the words which Hengist and Horsa and their followers used then, we use in our daily speech.
For a long time the Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes kept separate from one another. There was not one great Saxon people in England, but a number of small tribes, each tribe under its own king or chief. If we want to know the names of some of these nations, or tribes, we have only got to look at the map. But, it will be said, how can we find these names on the map? There were no atlases in the time of the Saxons; and all these nations and tribes have come to an end long ago, and their names will not be marked in any map of England which we have now.
Let us see. If we go back to the old Saxon histories, we shall find that some of the Angles landed on our shores near where the town of Yarmouth now stands. They divided into two tribes; some of them went north, and some of them stayed where they were, or went south. Those who went north were called the "North Folk"; those who stayed in the south were called the "South Folk."
Then we find that the Saxons, like the Angles, divided themselves up into several tribes; some went south, some west, some east, and a fourth tribe was to be found in the middle of the other three; and soon people began to talk of the country of the South Saxons, the West Saxons, the East Saxons, and the Middle Saxons. Then, too, we read of a tribe which was called the "Dorsaetas," and of another which was known as the "Wiltsaetas," and there were many other tribes whose names might be given.
Now it will be said that, however long we look upon the map of England, we shall never find marked upon it the country of the "North Folk" and the "South Folk," of the "West Saxons" or the "East Saxons," the "Wiltsaetas," or the "Dorsaetas." It is quite true that we shall not find these very names, but we shall find names so very like them that it does not require to be very clever to guess that they are really the same. We have not the country of the "North Folk" or the "South Folk," but we shall find the counties of "Norfolk" and "Suffolk" on the map in a moment. We do not talk of the "Middle Saxons," the "East Saxons," or the "South Saxons," but we do talk of "Middlesex," "Essex," and "Sussex." And, in the same way, though we have not got the "Wiltsaetas" nor the "Dorsaetas," we all know something about the counties of "Wilts" and "Dorset." We see that, though more than a thousand years have passed since the Saxons first came to live in England, and first gave Saxon names to the places in which they lived, we have never forgotten those names, but still use them every day just as the Saxons did who first gave them to us.
If we look at the map on the previous page, we shall see that it is divided into no less than twelve different districts, of which the greater number are in that part of the British Islands which is now known as England. It will be well to study the map closely, and to learn the names of the different divisions. Our special attention should be given to the divisions which are marked Kent, Northumbria, Mercia, and Wessex; for each of these became in turn the most important of the Saxon kingdoms.
On the west side of the island are three districts, Strathclyde, North Wales, which is the whole of Wales as we now know it, and West Wales, which now bears the name of Cornwall. These are the districts which, for a long time after the first coming of the Saxons, remained British. Strathclyde has long ago become Saxon; West Wales has lost its British language, and though it is still distinguished in many ways from the other Saxon and English-speaking counties, it is really as much a part of Saxon England as the neighbouring county of Devon. In North Wales and parts of South Wales alone the British tongue and the British race still hold their own, and the Welsh language of to-day is really the same as that which was spoken by the Britons of the fifth and sixth centuries.
Chapter 4. How the Saxons Became English, and the English Became Christians 597-837
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
Gregory and the Angels. (Ch 4)
"Non Angli sed Angeli."
It is no longer to the British parts of the island that we must now turn our attention, but to the new Saxon kingdoms which were growing up in the south and west, and which were to become the foundation of modern England as we know it. The first to be noticed in point of time, though not in point of importance, is the little kingdom of Kent, in the south-eastern corner of the island.
The history of the kingdom of Kent, as we know it, is a very short one; but, though short, it has the greatest possible importance for our country. In a previous chapter we read that the Saxons, when they first became masters of England, were heathens, and that they worshipped gods named Woden, Thor, Freia; but the name of these gods is but a memory among us, and for centuries England has been a Christian land. We have now to read how it was that the pagan Saxons learnt the story of Jesus Christ, cast aside their old heathen religions, and became Christians. It is a very beautiful and interesting story, and it is well to tell it as nearly as possible in the very words of those who were living at the time when the change took place, and who wrote down what they saw with their own eyes and heard with their own ears.
The Romans, as we know, had introduced Christianity into England, but with the departure of the Romans and the arrival of the Saxons and the other heathen tribes, the Roman churches were destroyed, and the Britons who had become Christians were put to death, or driven to take refuge in Wales or Ireland. England under its new masters once more became a heathen land. We shall learn how Christian teachers from Rome landed a second time in England, and a second time set to work to convert the heathen whom they found there.
In the city of Rome, about the year 580, there lived a great and good man named Gregory, a monk. One day Gregory was walking in the streets of Rome, and, as he walked, he came to the market-place where slaves were sold; for at that time, and for many hundreds of years afterwards, men, women, and children were often sold as slaves both in Rome and other places. Among the many slaves were some little children from that part of England which was then called "Deira," but which we now call "Yorkshire." They were fair-haired children, their faces were beautiful, and their skins were whiter than those of the little Roman children who had become browned with the heat of the warm sun of Italy.
When Gregory saw the little English children, he went up and asked from what country they came. He was told that they came from the island of Britain. Then he asked whether the people of Britain were heathens, or had become Christians. He was told that they were still heathens. When Gregory heard this, he gave a deep sigh. "Alas," said he, "what a pity that such beautiful children as these should come from a land where men have not yet learnt about Christ." Then he asked what was the name of the nation to which the children belonged. He was told that it was the nation of the Angles. "Rightly are they so called," said Gregory, "for they have the faces of angels."
Then Gregory made up his mind that the Angles should be taught the story of Christ, and after he became Pope (590), he looked about him to find the best man whom he could send over as a teacher or missionary. The person whom he chose was named Augustine, who now is often spoken of as Saint Augustine. Augustine lived in Rome, and had never been in England; but when he received the order from Gregory to go, he went at once.
The Story of Augustine. (Ch 4)
"My heart is inditing of a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made unto the King." Psalm xlv. i.
The story of Augustine, and how he came to England, is contained in a book written by an Englishman. The name of this Englishman is Bede, a truly good and pious man. He was not alive at the time when Augustine came over to England; he was not born until nearly a hundred years after Gregory had seen the little English children in the market-place in Rome. But Bede may easily have heard the story which he tells from those persons who really saw the things happen about which he wrote. This is the story as it is written by Bede, the Englishman.
At the time when Gregory sent Augustine to England, there was a king in that part of our country which we now call Kent. The name of this king was Aethelbert (560), and he had a wife named Bertha. Now Bertha came from the land of the Franks or, as we say now, from France, the land of the French. Aethelbert himself was a heathen, but Bertha was a Christian, and the king, her husband, allowed her to go to church and to keep her own religion.
If we look at the map of Kent, we shall see that in one corner of it there is a part which is called "The Isle of Thanet." It is in the Isle of Thanet that the towns of Margate, Ramsgate, and Broadstairs now are. In our own day the Isle of Thanet is a part of the county of Kent, but in the time of King Aethelbert it was really an isle, or an island, for there was a stream of water all round it, which separated it from the west of Kent. This stream, which was called the Wantsum, began near where the town of Sandwich now is, and ended near the place which is marked on the map as The Reculvers. It was possible in the time of Aethelbert to sail all the way from Sandwich to The Reculvers. Now there is no longer any stream there, but there is dry land instead.
It was in the island of Thanet that Augustine landed when he first came to England, more than thirteen hundred years ago. Before he landed, he sent a messenger to King Aethelbert to ask leave to come into his country. Perhaps the king would not have given him leave if it had not been that his wife Bertha was already a Christian. But Bertha, when she heard that Augustine was coming, was very pleased, and she persuaded the king to receive him kindly.
There is a place in the county of Kent called Ebbsfleet. It was here that Augustine, with forty companions, landed from the ship that brought him to England (597). He did not at once go to King Aethelbert, but he sent one of his friends to tell the king that he had brought him a most joyful message, and that he had come to tell him about the true and living God.
When the king got the message, he made up his mind that he would go and hear what Augustine had to tell him. He went to the Isle of Thanet, and sent for Augustine. He sat on a chair in the open air when Augustine came. He would not go inside a house, for he did not understand what this new teacher had come to tell him, and he feared that there might be some plan to do him harm or to kill him; he would, therefore, only let Augustine speak to him out of doors. Then Augustine, and those who were with him, came before the king. As they came they sang and prayed, and then Augustine told the king about the new religion and about the story of Christ.
The king heard him in silence, and when Augustine had finished Aethelbert said, "Your words and your promises are very fair; but as they are new to us, and as we are not certain what they mean, I cannot agree with them now, nor can I give up the religion of my people . . . but because you have come to my kingdom from so far off, and because I believe that you really mean to say what is right and to do what is good, I will be kind to you, and will take care of you, and will let no one do you harm. If you can make people believe you, I will not prevent you."
Then the king told Augustine that he might stay in the city of Canterbury, which is in the county of Kent, and not very far off from where Augustine had landed. So Augustine and his followers went to the town of Canterbury, and there they built a church and lived for some time, teaching and preaching to the people.
Soon the people began to find out that the strangers were good men, and that they not only taught what was good, but that they lived good and honest lives. Then many of the people began to believe the words of Augustine, and to become Christians; and before very long Aethelbert himself became a Christian, like his wife Bertha; and in a few years all the English people in the kingdom of Aethelbert became Christians.
This is the story of the coming of Augustine to England, and of his teaching the religion of Christ to the English people. Canterbury was the first place in which a church was set up, and to this day a great cathedral stands in the city of Canterbury upon the place on which Augustine and his companions from Rome first taught the story of Christ thirteen hundred years ago.
King Edwin, and the Conversion of Northumbria. (Ch 4)
"It is reported that there was then such perfect peace in Britain, wheresoever the dominion of King Edwin extended, that a woman with her newborn babe might walk throughout the island, from sea to sea, without receiving any harm." -- Chronicle of the Venerable Bede.
We now pass from the history of the little kingdom of Kent to that of a larger and much more important division, namely, the kingdom of Northumbria, which stretched from the Humber to the Firth of Forth, and which has left its name in our own northern county of Northumberland. In the year 547 a Saxon chief of the name of Ida landed on the east coast and established the kingdom of Bernicia, which stretched from the Tees to the Firth of Forth. Forty-six years later (593), in the reign of Athelfrith, the kingdom of Bernicia was united with the Saxon kingdom of Deira the modern Yorkshire under the name of the Kingdom of Northumbria. Aethelfrith, King of Northumbria, was a heathen, and he was a great warrior. He led his armies against the Britons, who still maintained themselves in the north of Britain; he destroyed their churches and killed their priests.
A story still remains of how he besieged the last army of the Britons in the fortress of Chester (607), and how, in the massacre that followed his victory, two thousand monks, fighting to the last on behalf of their religion, were cut down without mercy. For the first time the Saxons had established their dominion from sea to sea. It seemed as if the cause of Thor and Woden were about to triumph finally over the cause of Christianity.
But only ten years before the capture of Chester, Aethelbert, King of Kent, had accepted the teaching of St. Augustine, and ere another twenty years had gone by the teaching of St. Augustine was acknowledged by the successor of Aethelfrith -- Edwin, the great King of Northumbria.
In the year 617 Aethelfrith died, and was succeeded by his brother-in-law, Edwin. A tie of marriage now united the kingdoms of Kent and Northumbria. King Edwin married Aethelburga, the daughter of Aethelbert, King of Kent. It was Bertha, the wife of King Aethelbert, who persuaded her husband to send for Augustine. In like manner, Aethelburga, who, like Bertha, was a Christian, now persuaded King Edwin to send for a teacher who could tell him about the new religion. The teacher whom Edwin sent for was called Paulinus, a friend and follower of Augustine. Paulinus came and preached to the king and his counsellors. Bede, who has given us the account of the coming of Augustine, has also told us the story of how Paulinus came to the court of King Edwin, and how the heathen King of Northumbria accepted the new religion.
At the court of King Edwin there was a certain man called Coifi, who was high in favour with the king, and was the high priest of the country. When the high priest had heard what Paulinus had to tell, he learnt that the gods in whom he had believed were false gods. He went to King Edwin, and said to him, "O King, I advise you at once to give up your false gods; and I advise you, in order to show that you do not believe in them any longer, to break the idols which stand in the temples, and to burn the temples."
Then Edwin said that he would do as he was asked. "But who," said King Edwin, "is the right person to break the idols and burn the temples?" Then the high priest said to the king, "There can be no person more fit to do this thing than I myself."
Then Coifi mounted on a horse and fastened on a sword, and took a spear and threw it against one of the temples. This was to show that he no longer believed in the idol; for, up to that time, no one had been allowed to wear a sword or carry a spear when they went near a temple. Then he set fire to the temples and threw down the idols and broke them. And thus it was that Paulinus led Edwin to give up idols and to believe in Christ (626).
For a time the people of Northumbria became Christians; but the greater part of England still remained heathen.
The Conversion of Mercia; or the Story of Aidan and Cuthbert. (Ch 4)
"The same year that King Egfrid departed this life (685) he promoted to the bishopric of the Church of Lindisfarne, the holy and venerable Cuthbert, who had for many years led a solitary life in great continence of body and mind, in a very small island called Farne, distant about nine miles from that same Church, in the Ocean." -- Chronicle of the Venerable Bede.
Among the parts which had not yet been reached by Christianity was the great central kingdom of Mercia, of which it is now time to speak. Mercia, the kingdom of the March, or Border, had been founded by the Anglian tribes in the sixth century, about the time when Aethelbert was reigning in Kent. The name tells us that when the Mercian kingdoms were first set up, the Britons were still in full possession of the centre of England; for the men of the March were those who lived on the borders of a hostile country. At the date we have now reached, however (626), the Mercians were spreading over the whole of the Midlands, and occupied the country which now comprises the counties of Lincolnshire, Derbyshire, Cheshire, Warwickshire, Herefordshire, and some other counties. Under a king named Penda, the Mercians had now become very powerful, and, free from all alarm on the side of the Britons, they turned upon their kindred in the North, and invaded Northumbria. Edwin of Northumbria, of whose conversion by Paulinus we have just read, was killed in battle (633), and his people, deprived of his example and encouragement, went back again for a time to their old heathen beliefs, which, indeed, many of them had given up only in name, and in obedience to the orders of the king.
Fortunately, Christian teachers of even greater power and influence than Paulinus came to the rescue of Northumbria in these dark times. The names of Aidan and Cuthbert will always be memorable in the history of Christianity in the North of England. Both of them have received the title of Saint, and many churches to this day preserve the names of St. Aidan and of St. Cuthbert.
The life of St. Aidan has been written, and it is certain that few people did more than he to convert the people of our country to Christianity -- as much, perhaps, as St. Augustine. Earnest and sincere, he moved those with whom he had to do as much by the beauty and goodness of his life as by his preaching. We can judge what sort of man he was from the pupils whom he taught.
Among these pupils was Oswald, King of Northumbria, who had succeeded Edwin in 635. In his youth, Oswald had been driven out of his country by King Edwin and had sought refuge in Scotland. There he had found his way to the lonely cell of Columba, an Irish Christian, who, having escaped from persecution in his own country, had found refuge in the little rocky island of lona, off the coast of Argyllshire. Columba had gathered round him other missionaries like himself, and it is clear that Oswald never forgot what he saw and learnt during his visit to lona.
After he became king, he sent to Columba and begged him to choose one of his monks to come and teach the people of Northumbria and to bring them back, if possible, to the Christian religion which they had forsaken. Aidan was chosen for the task. He came southward, and following the example of his master Columba, settled on the little island of Lindisfarne, or Holy Isle, just off the Northumberland coast. Thence he passed through Northumbria teaching and preaching, and under his influence both Northumbria and its king learnt to understand and believe in his message.
Oswald himself became a pupil of Aidan, and an active helper in his work. Coming from a far-off country, the preacher could only speak the language of the Scots, among whom he had lived. But Oswald, too, had been among the Scots and knew their language. He offered his services to Aidan as interpreter, and as Aidan preached, the King translated into a language which the people could understand. "It was delightful," says Bede, who wrote the life of Aidan, "to see the King helping the preacher."
Under the wise guidance of the new teachers Oswald's reign prospered, and Northumbria recovered from the defeat and death of Edwin. But as long as Penda, the fierce heathen King of Mercia, lived, there was no real safety for Northumbria, nor, indeed, for any Christian kingdom in England.
East Anglia (now the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk) had become Christian. Penda marched into the land of the East Angles and slew their king. Oswald hastened to the rescue, but in his turn was defeated and killed in the battle which took place between the Northumbrians and the Mercians (642). Once more Northumbria was overrun by the Mercians, but once again under its new king, Oswy, it regained strength, till at last fortune turned in favour of the Christian army, and the Mercians were defeated, with terrible loss, in the battle of Winwid Field, near Leeds (655). Penda himself fell in the battle. Enough is known about him to show that he was really a great man, and his name still lives in more than one English place name.
The work of Aidan was continued by Cuthbert, who also lived at Lindisfarne, or Holy Isle. As a teacher and preacher, his fame was even greater than that of Aidan, and the stories of his goodness and of the wonderful things which he did have come down to us from the time in which he lived. He died in the year 687, and was buried at Dunelm (now called Durham), where the stately cathedral church of St. Cuthbert still commemorates the life and work of the great Northumbrian teacher.
Offa, King of Mercia, and the Rise of the West Saxons (Ch 4)
"I, Offa, King of the Mercians, have sealed with the seal of the Cross, this my aforesaid gift." -- From a Charter of grant of land, by King Offa to the Church of St. Andrew, Rochester.
We must now leave Northumbria, and return for a while to the Midland kingdom. Northumbria never recovered its full power after the death of King Oswy (670), and as its influence declined, that of Mercia grew. Wulfhere, a Christian, a son of Penda, became king. Under his leadership the Northumbrians were defeated, and Mercia was freed from the authority of the Northumbrian king who had claimed the right to interfere with its government ever since the death of Penda. Wulfhere extended his kingdom to the south and west, and Mercia took without dispute the first place among the English kingdoms. While the fortunes of Mercia grew brighter, those of Northumbria faded. In the year 685, Egfrith, King of Northumbria, marched against his Northern enemies, the Picts in Scotland, but in a terrible battle at Nectansmere, in what is now the county of Fife, he was slain, and his army destroyed. Thus ended the once powerful Northumbrian kingdom.
For a hundred and sixty years Mercia remained the first among the English kingdoms under its kings, of whom the greatest were Aethelbald and Offa. Offa, King of the Mercians, has been dead and buried for hundreds of years: but though he has been dead so long, his name is not yet forgotten in England, and this is how it came to be remembered.
When Offa was King of Mercia, he fought a great many battles with the Welsh. Sometimes he marched with his army into Wales, and sometimes the Welsh, in their turn, marched into his country. At last Offa made up his mind that the Welsh should come into his country no longer, and, in order to keep them out, he set his people to work to dig a long ditch and to build a wall of earth between his own kingdom of Mercia and Wales.
This long ditch stretched all the way from the River Dee, which is in the county of Cheshire, to the River Wye, which runs into the mouth of the Severn, in the county of Monmouth.
The great ditch was called "Offa's Dyke" or "Offa's Ditch." Years went by. Offa himself died and his kingdom disappeared; but to this day part of the work which he did still remains. There are places where the ditch and the wall of earth can still be seen, and English people living in Shropshire or in Herefordshire at this very day can walk along the bank which Offa, King of the Mercians, built, and which bears his name.
The fame of King Offa was known not only in his own country but on the continent of Europe, and he appears to have been treated as an equal in rank by Charles, King of the Franks, who is generally known in history as Charlemagne, and who was at that time at the height of his power in his great kingdom, which extended over half of France and half of Germany. But on Offa's death the power of Mercia soon came to an end, for in 823, Beornwulf was defeated in battle by a new enemy, Egbert, King of the West Saxons, who only two or three years later won another victory over the Mercians under Wiglaf.
We must look once more upon the map to see where the kingdom of the West Saxons lay. It is the fourth of the Saxon kingdoms whose fortunes we have had to follow, and its history is of special importance because it is from Wessex that there came at last a king who was to unite all the English kingdoms under his rule.
It must not be supposed that the kingdom of Wessex suddenly sprang into existence at the time of King Wiglaf of Mercia. Wessex, or the kingdom of the West Saxons, had, indeed, been founded three hundred and six years before in the year 519 by a king of the name of Cerdic, and several kings had succeeded Cerdic during the two hundred and sixty-six years between his death (534) and the days of Egbert. Of these West Saxon kings some record still remains to us. The most famous of them was Ine, who reigned from 688 to 726, and who drew up a code of laws for the West Saxons of which a copy still exists. He died 728.
It was in the year 800 that Egbert became King of Wessex. His life before he became king had been one of misfortune, for he had been exiled from his country, and compelled to take refuge at the court of Offa, King of Mercia. Thence he had been compelled to fly a second time to the Continent, where he put himself under the protection of Charles the Great, King of the Franks. At that time Charles was engaged in conquering the Frankish and German kingdoms, which he at length formed into one great kingdom or empire. Perhaps Egbert was moved by the example of Charlemagne, for no sooner had he come to the throne of Wessex than he set to work to win over or subdue the other kings of England, and to make himself master of the whole country.
He first fought against the kings of Kent, Essex, and Sussex, and joined their kingdoms to his own. He then turned his arms against Mercia, which he compelled to submit to him after the Mercians had been defeated at the great battle of Ellandune, in Wiltshire (823). In the west he conquered the district now known as the county of Devon, and added it to Wessex. The Britons, or Welsh, as the Saxons called them, were driven into Cornwall and the river Tamar was fixed as their boundary.
There now only remained the kingdom of Northumbria outside the dominion of Egbert; but Northumbria was no longer strong enough to fight against so powerful an enemy as the King of Wessex, and the Northumbrians, of their own accord, submitted to Egbert, who thus became the first king or "Overlord" of all England (827).
Chapter 5. The Northmen 837-871.
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[The name Welsh means "foreigner."] Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
The Coming of the Danes. (Ch 5)
"When Denmark's raven soar'd on high
Triumphant through Northumbria's sky
And the broad shadow of her wing
Blacken'd each cataract and spring."
-- Scott: "Rokeby," canto iv.
We have just read above how Egbert, King of Wessex, became master of the other English kingdoms; but the rule of Wessex was not long to remain undisputed, and the Saxons who had so long fought among themselves, were now to be brought face to face with a common enemy, who threatened to treat them as their ancestors three hundred and seventy years before had treated the Britons.
These new enemies were the Danes, a people whose name from this time forward becomes very closely connected with the history of England. The peninsula of Denmark stands out from the northern coast of Europe; its most northern point is on a level with the city of Aberdeen, and its western shore can be reached in thirty-six hours' steaming from the mouth of the Tyne.
The Danes of our day are a sturdy and industrious people, not unlike Englishmen in appearance, and speaking a Scandinavian language which is not altogether unlike the language of the Eastern Lowlands of Scotland.
It was this land of Denmark that gave its name to the new invaders who appeared in England in the time of King Egbert. But it was not from Denmark only nor, indeed, principally that the Danes came. Many of them came from further north from the Fjords of the wild Norwegian coast and hence, in the histories of the time, we constantly find them spoken of as the Northmen. The Northmen, or Danes, were great sailors. The country in which they lived was wild and bare, and it is not wonderful that they longed to sail over the sea to some richer land than their own. They were a cruel but brave people, fierce in war and eager for plunder.
Each year parties of them sailed further and further from home, and it was not long before some of their ships reached the coast of England (787). They first appeared in Northumbria, in the reign of Aethelred (794), and from that time forward their visits continued during many years.
They soon found that England was a richer and pleasanter country than their own, and their first thought when they landed was to kill the English, to take from them all they possessed, and to sail back again with the plunder they had taken. Ship after ship sailed across the sea, and soon the English began to know too well the vessels of their terrible enemies. When they saw the Danish ships coming they fled from their homes into the woods, or took refuge in some strong town.
Soon the Danes began to act on a new plan. They no longer came only to plunder and to sail away again, but they stopped in England and made their homes there. Their Long-ships sailed into all the rivers on the east side of England; and when the Northmen had landed, they built forts to protect themselves, and marched against the English, destroying their towns, killing all who could not escape, and taking cattle and everything of value they could find.
It must have been a terrible sight for the English to see the Danish "Long-ships," or "Keels" as they came up into the river-mouth. At the front of each great ship was a tall prow, which was often made into the figure of a dragon or of some other fierce animal. On the mast was spread a broad painted sail, which swelled with the east wind as the ship swept through the water. If the wind blew off the land, the ship was driven forward by the long rows of oars on either side, worked by the strong arms of fifty rowers. On the outside hung the bright shields of the Danes, and in the ship itself could be seen the fierce Northmen armed with their heavy axes and spears, and with their standards in their midst. The standards themselves seemed to tell of the fierce, cruel men who bore them. Sometimes they were in the form of a raven or an eagle, sometimes of a serpent or dragon, sometimes of a bear or wolf. No wonder that the fear of the Danes was great, and that the news of their coming spread terror through the land.
Nor was it only to England that the Danes came. Some of them sailed to the north, round the coasts of Scotland, till they came to Ireland. Others sailed away to the south until they came to France. There they landed and set up a kingdom of their own.
We must not forget about these Northmen who sailed to the south and landed in France, because we shall read about them again further on. When we come to them, we shall find they are called, not Northmen, but Normans; and when we read the story of the Normans, we must remember who they were and where they came from.
But the Northmen of whom we are now to read are those who came to England, not those who went to France. It was in the time of King Egbert that the Danes or Northmen began to come to the south of England; but it was not till the time of Egbert's son, Aethelwulf (837), that they came in great numbers. It was in his day that the Danes sailed up the River Thames and plundered London (851). This was a great blow to the English, and they determined to try and get rid of their terrible enemies once for all. King Aethelwulf marched against them with a large army, and a fierce battle was fought at a place called Ockley, in Surrey. The Danes were beaten, and for a time it seemed as if England would be freed from them.
But, alas! this was not to be. More ships came across the sea; and this time the Danes found friends among the Welsh, who were only too glad to find some one to help them against their old enemies the English.
From this time, for more than a hundred years, the history of England is full of stories of battles with the Danes and of accounts of the misery and suffering of the people of England. It seems strange that Danes and English should have been such bitter enemies, for really they belonged almost to the same people. They both came from the northern part of Europe, and the Danes spoke a language not very unlike that which was spoken by the English.
But, by the time of King Aethelwulf, the English were very different from what they had been when their forefathers first landed in England. They were Christians, and, moreover, had ceased to be wandering tribes. They had become rich and settled, and had already learnt to make good laws and to live at peace among each other.
But the Northmen who now came over the sea were still heathen. They cared for no laws, they wandered from place to place in search of plunder, and they knew neither pity nor justice. So great was the terror of the Danes among the English, that it became the custom to put into the prayers which were offered up in the churches this prayer: "From the fury of the Northmen, good Lord deliver us."
Chapter 6. The Reign of King Alfred 871-901.
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
Alfred, the "Truth-Teller." (Ch 6)
"In the whole of the kingdom the poor, beside him, had few or no protectors."
"So long as I have lived I have striven to live worthily. I desire to leave the men who come after me a remembrance of me in good works."
-- Asser: "Life of Alfred."
Now that we know something of this terrible people, we must go back to the story of the English, and learn how a great Englishman arose who saved his country in a time of trouble, and who prevented the Danes from becoming masters of the whole of England.
The name of this great Englishman is Alfred.
King Alfred (871) was the youngest son of Aethelwulf, King of Wessex. He was born in the year 849, which is over a thousand years ago. When he was young, no one ever thought that he would become king, for his three brothers all had a right to come to the throne before him. But it so happened that though each of his three brothers became king in turn, each of them died a very short time after he had come to the throne. And so, after all, Alfred became King of the West Saxons.
We must remember that Egbert, King of the West Saxons, who was Alfred's grandfather, had made himself king over very nearly the whole of England; but between the time when Egbert was king, and the time when Alfred came to the throne, there had been a great change; for it was during this time that the Danes had begun to come in large numbers into England. They had become so powerful and so numerous, that Alfred, when he came to the throne, instead of being a powerful king like his grandfather Egbert, had for many years to fight hard for his own life, and to protect his own kingdom of Wessex. We shall see how bravely he fought, and how in the end he gained a great victory.
But before we come to the story of Alfred's success, we must learn something about his early days, and how it was that he overcame the difficulties and dangers by which he and his country were surrounded, and became at last victorious. It is truly said that "the boy is father to the man"; and in order to understand the character of any man or woman, it is necessary to know something of how their character was formed in youth.
Fortunately we know far more about the early years of King Alfred than we do about those of any of the Saxon kings before his time. Although he lived more than a thousand years ago, books were written in his time which tell us truly what he did, what he said, and what he learnt. Some of these books were written by the hand of Alfred himself, for he was a great scholar in times when scholarship was rare. It seems strange nowadays to think that any grown-up person, especially such a person as a king, should not be able to read and write easily, but in the days of King Alfred very few could read or write; and there have even been kings of England at a much later time who, though they were great soldiers and men of much ability, could not write their own names. But Alfred learnt to read and write when he was quite young, and was always a great lover of books.
Alfred also learnt as he grew up many other useful things. He had a tutor who taught him to read books. This tutor's name was Swithin, the Bishop of Winchester. The name of Swithin, or St. Swithin, still sounds very familiar in our ears. The 15th day of July is called "St. Swithin's Day" and there is a saying that if it rains on St. Swithin's Day, there will be forty wet days to follow. There are probably few people who talk of St. Swithin nowadays who know that he was a real person, and was the tutor who taught King Alfred when he was a young man.
But Swithin taught his pupil other things which were more useful to him than book-learning. He taught him to be true and just in all his dealings, to love what was right, and to speak the truth. There is one name by which Alfred was called both by his friends and his enemies. It is a name which should not be forgotten, for it was one of the greatest and most honourable names that could be given to a king or to any other man. He was called "Alfred the Truth-Teller."
In many other ways besides those which have been mentioned, Alfred fitted himself for the battle of life while he was young. There is a proverb which tells us that "home-keeping youths have ever homely wits," and undoubtedly those who stay at home and never travel will learn little of what is going on in the world, and are sometimes very ignorant. Travel is always good for those who know how to travel wisely, and a knowledge of how other people live, and of what is going on in foreign countries, is useful to anyone, especially to one who has to be a king.
When he was quite young, Alfred travelled on the Continent. He visited France, where he met many learned and wise men, and where he learnt much which was afterwards of value to him. He was skilled in various accomplishments. We have already seen that he loved to read and write, and knew Latin well. He was fond of music, and learnt to play upon the harp. Nor did he forget to learn those things which strengthened his body as well as those which improved, strengthened, and instructed his mind. He practised shooting with the bow, he learnt how to use the sword, how to ride, and how to hunt. In such stormy times of war and danger as those in which Alfred lived, it was, above all, necessary that the king should be brave and active, a warrior able to lead his people in battle. A master of all these accomplishments, Alfred grew up strong, brave, and wise, and in every way fitted to be a king.
Alfred's Defeats and Victories. (Ch 6)
"The darkest hour comes before the dawn."
It was fortunate that Alfred had learnt the work of a soldier while he was still young, for it was not long before he had plenty of fighting to do. Before he reached the age of twenty-two his three elder brothers, Aethelbald, Aethelbert and Aethelred, had died, and Alfred was called to the throne of Wessex. It seemed, indeed, a misfortune for the West Saxons that at the time when a great and growing danger threatened them, their king should be little more than a boy. For indeed the time was one of great peril.
The Danes, who for a while had been beaten back, began to come over in larger numbers than ever. Their Long-ships sailed into every river along the east coast of England, and into many harbours on the south coast. They made themselves masters of Northumbria and Mercia, and Alfred had not been king more than a month when they marched against his own kingdom of Wessex. It seemed as if all England would fall into the power of the Danes. Alfred, alone with the people of Wessex, was left to fight against them.
Many battles were fought. Sometimes Alfred was victorious, sometimes the Danes were victorious. But at last the Danes became so numerous that Alfred's soldiers no longer dared to face them, and they either fled or made submission to the Danish chiefs. Alfred, deserted by his army, was forced to take refuge in flight from his fierce enemies.
For a long time he lived with a few of his most faithful followers in the marshes near Athelney, in Somerset. At last, in order to escape being taken and killed by the Danes, he was obliged to dress himself up as a peasant, and to serve a shepherd who lived in a little hut among the marshes of Athelney.
It is at this period of Alfred's life that the famous story is told of King Alfred and the cakes. The shepherd's wife little suspected who the forsaken stranger that did the humble work of the homestead really was. One day she bade the king watch a batch of cakes that were being cooked before the fire. He was to be sure not to forget to turn them from time to time, so that they might not become burnt. But Alfred's thoughts were far away. He was shaping a bow, and thinking of the day when he might once more lead his West Saxons into battle. The shepherd's wife returned, and finding her precious cakes burned and spoiled, gave her unhappy servant a sound rating and a beating for his negligence. To such a strait had the king been brought.
It seemed as if all hope of Alfred ever regaining his throne were gone, but better days were in store. While the king was hiding in the shepherd's hut, the Danes advanced into Devonshire, the next county to Somerset. The Devonshire men met them and beat them. When Alfred heard that the Devonshire men had been victorious, he came out of his hiding-place, and calling together his friends, he once more put himself at the head of the people of Wessex,
Many fierce battles were again fought between the English and the Danes, and with varying fortune. One great battle was fought near Uffington, in Berkshire. The English won the day, and when the fight was over, Alfred's soldiers thought they would make some mark which for ever afterwards would remind people of the battle.
The hills near Uffington are made of white chalk, and on top of the chalk there is fine, short green grass. The soldiers drew out upon the grass the figure of a great horse. Then they cut away all the turf up to the edge of the figure of the horse, so that the white chalk underneath showed through. In this way they made a big white picture of a horse, which could be seen upon the hillside from a long way off. It is now a thousand years since Alfred's soldiers first cut the white horse in the turf after their battle with the Danes. But ever since that time the white horse has been taken care of, and the grass has been kept from growing over it, so that it is still white and clear. And now in our own day, as we travel by train from London to Exeter, if we look out of the window between Didcot and Swindon,we can still see the "white horse" high up on the hillside. The valley below is called the "Vale of White Horse" up to this very day.
At length, both sides, weary of the strife, agreed to make peace. The Danes on their part promised to leave Alfred in undisturbed possession of his kingdom of Wessex, while the king on his side gave up the greater portion of England north of the Ouse to the new-comers. Guthrum, the principal Danish chieftain, was baptised and became a Christian. A Saxon chief or Alderman, [or Elderman] named Aethelred, who had married Alfred's daughter, whose name was Aethelfleda, was made governor of the southern part of Mercia. [This arrangement was called the "Peace of Wedmore."]
England's First Navy, and the Work and Wisdom of King Alfred. (Ch 6)
"This year died Alfred, the son of Aethelwulf, six days before the Mass of All Saints. He was King over the whole English nations, except that part which was under the dominion of the Danes; and he held the kingdom one year and a half less than thirty years." --"Anglo-Saxon Chronicle."
But it was a bad plan to trust the Danes; their promises were only made to be broken. Moreover, the fresh invaders who kept coming over the sea cared nothing for the promise which had been made by those of their countrymen who were already in England, and they altogether refused to be bound by them. It was not long, therefore, before war broke out again. The Danish fleet sailed down the Channel and came up the river Exe as far as Exeter. They were there defeated; but the victorious Saxons could profit little by their victory, for the enemy, retiring to his ships, sailed away and was safe.
Alfred was not slow to learn the lesson which was thus taught him. He perceived that as long as the Danes were masters of the sea, there was no hope of ending the war, for the long-ships of the enemy could always move from point to point by sea more rapidly than his own armies could move by land. Moreover, if the Saxon troops arrived in time to prevent a landing, or to defeat an invading force as they had done at Exeter, they were quite powerless to prevent their enemies from taking to sea again and landing at some other point of the coast to burn and pillage. It was plain to Alfred that, in order to succeed, he must fight the Danes with their own weapons.
Eleven centuries before, in the long wars between the Romans and the Carthaginians, the Romans, whose armies were invincible on land, found themselves at the mercy of an enemy whom they despised, but whose fleets, nevertheless, commanded the sea. The Romans were no sailors, but they determined that they would have a fleet. Hundreds of galleys were commenced, and while the ships were being built, the crews, seated on benches, practised on land the art of rowing, and the methods of fighting which they were to put into force as soon as they went to sea. Their efforts were rewarded. The Carthaginian fleets were driven from the Roman coasts, the Romans pursued the Carthaginians to their own city, defeated them by sea and by land, and destroyed the city of Carthage itself.
It may be that King Alfred remembered the history of the Roman fleet, for we have seen that he was a Latin scholar; but, be that as it may, he followed the Roman example. Ships were built, sailors were trained, and the Danes for the first time were beaten on the water. They could no longer disappear without fear of being followed, or move with greater rapidity than the Saxons. For the first time in our history an English fleet was master of the English Channel, and as long as it remained master of the Channel, England was safe from an attack. What was true a thousand years ago has been true at all times in our history, and is true at this day. It may be indeed said that Alfred was the first ruler of England who learnt and put into practice the truth that the safety of England depends upon her fleet, and that the real protectors of our country are our sailors.
Hitherto we have spoken of Alfred's reign as one of war and fighting only. But it would be a great mistake to suppose that Alfred was nothing more than a great soldier. While it was his first duty to protect his people, he never forgot the duties of peace-time. He drew up a code of laws, and, what was even more important, he caused the laws to be plainly written down, so that those who had to obey them might know what they were. He invited to his Court wise and learned men from other countries, from Paris and from Rome, and he used their knowledge for the benefit of his people. To him we owe the beginning of what may be called the first history of England, the famous Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a work which was commenced at this time, and which, happily, still exists, and is the source from which we learn most of what is known of the events which took place in the later Anglo-Saxon times.
Alfred himself was active in good works. He was the author of various books, he wrote poetry, he translated famous Latin books into English, he began a translation of the Bible, which, however, was never finished. Diligent in his work, he was unwilling to waste the time he found too short for what he had to do. To measure the hours appointed for each task he set himself, he caused a candle to be made to tell him the time in a day when watches and clocks were unknown. The candle, we are told, was made in different colours or bands, dividing it into equal parts, and in every hour, one such part was burnt away, and thus the king noted the passing of the hours. Such are some of the stories which have come down to us of this great king. We know enough of him and his life to be sure that the honour in which he was held by those of his own day was not misplaced, and that the title which was given to him in later days was one which truly described him, and that men had reason to speak of him as "Alfred the Great." Other titles he also bore which, perhaps, tell us even more of his greatness, and of the reasons why he was beloved. We still speak of him as "Alfred the Great," but his people also spoke of him as "Alfred England's Comfort," and "Alfred the Truth-teller."
He died at Winchester, the capital city of his kingdom of Wessex, in the year 901, at the age of 52.
Chapter 7. The English Kings from Edward "The Elder" to Edward "The Martyr" 901-979.
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
Edward the Elder -- The Normans in France (Ch 7)
". . . the same forces which merged the Dane in the Englishman told even more powerfully on the Dane in France. No race has ever shewn a greater power of absorbing all the nobler characteristics of the people with whom they came in contact, or of infusing their own energy into them." -- Green: "History of the English People."
On Alfred's death, his son Edward (901) came to the throne. Edward is known to us as Edward the Elder, and is so called to distinguish him from another King Edward, who lived a hundred and fifty years later, and whose history we shall read. Edward the Elder proved a worthy successor to his father. He continued the war against the Danes, and was frequently victorious. He received valuable aid from his sister, Aethelfleda, whose husband, Aethelred, the Alderman of the Mercians, was now dead, Aethelfleda soon became a well-known figure in the National War. Clad in armour, with a sword in her hand, and mounted on a white horse, she herself led the Mercian troops into battle. She was known to her people as "The Lady of the Mercians," and she bore herself as a worthy daughter of her father, King Alfred.
Not content with defeating the Danes in battle, Aethelfleda had the wisdom to guard against their return when lapse of time and help from across the sea should have made them strong enough to renew the attack. She built a line of castles and fortresses along the northern frontier of her Mercian kingdom, and provided regular garrisons, ready to take the field in case of war.
So successful were Edward and his sister in breaking the power of the Danes, that the latter, for the first time, began to settle down in the country which they had conquered, and to give up the thought of further invasion. The border of the country occupied by the Danes, which was known as the "Danelagh," was marked by the five principal towns or boroughs, as they were called, and which are now known as Lincoln, Derby, Leicester, Stamford, and Nottingham.
Freed for a time from the fear of Danish invasion, Edward the Elder turned his arms against the Welsh, the Scots, and against those parts of Strathclyde, and what had been formerly the kingdom of Northumbria, which still refused to admit his authority. On the death of Aethelfleda he added Mercia to his kingdom, and took the title of King, or Over-lord of England. In 925 Edward died, and was succeeded by his son Athelstan.
And here we must leave the history of England for a space, in order to follow the fortunes of those Danes whom Edward's victories and the terror of his arms had driven from our shores. It must not be supposed that because for a time the field of plunder was closed to them in England, the Northmen were content to stay in their own country. When they found that they could no longer land in England, and plunder and burn as they had been accustomed to do, they turned their boats to sea again, and sailed away to lands where conquest was easier and spoil more plentiful. Some, passing round the north coast of Scotland, reached the east coast of Ireland; others, sailing southward, landed on the north coast of France. We shall hear something more at a later stage of those who sailed to the north. Of those who sailed to the south, something must be said here.
At the head of these rovers was a chief named Rolf, known to his followers and in history as "Rolf the Ganger." The name of Rolf is still known in our day; in its commoner forms of Ralph or Rollo it is familiar to us. The story runs that Rolf the Ganger was so-called on account of his great stature; so tall was he, that when he rode on a horse his feet touched the ground on either side, and he was forced to gang, or "go on foot." From which story we may learn two things: in the first place, that the horses on which Rolf the Ganger and his comrades rode were very small ones more like ponies than horses. No doubt they were like the little Shetland ponies which children ride. These small horses are still commonly used in Norway, and we can well imagine Rolf's long legs touching the ground as he bestrode one of these tiny animals.
In the second place, we may learn that the language which these Northmen talked was not unlike the language which is still talked in some parts of England and Scotland.
A Yorkshire man or a Southern Scot still talks of "gang" and "ganging" instead of "go" and "going" and to them the name of Rolf the Ganger tells its own tale; and if we write it "Ralph the Goer" it seems very familiar to our English ears, even though it be the name of a fierce Danish chief who lived a thousand years ago.
But the reason why the course of the story of our English history has been interrupted to give an account of Rolf and his followers, is not that we may learn lessons from the name of "The Ganger," but in order that we may read in its proper place the story of an event which was, in years to come, to have a very great effect upon our history and upon the fortunes of England.
The Northmen who sailed with Rolf landed on the French shore of the English Channel, and there set to work to rob and plunder, as their comrades had so often done in England. Charles the Simple, the French king, did his best to drive them out, but was unsuccessful, and was at length compelled to follow the example of King Alfred, and to hand over to them a certain portion of his kingdom, as the price of peace, in order to save the remainder (911). The portion of France which was handed over to Rolf and his followers became known at a later day as "Normandy,"' or the country of the Normans or Northmen. Rolf received the title of Duke of Normandy, and fixed his capital in the town of Rouen. As Duke of Normandy, Rolf was supposed to rule only by leave of the King of France, but it soon became clear that the claim of authority made by Charles had little value.
The leader of the Northmen was summoned to Paris, and was bidden to kneel and kiss the foot of the French king, in token that he was ready to be true to him and to obey him as his chief. To have done so would only have been to follow the common example, for to kiss the foot of an Over-lord was an ordinary sign of obedience and submission. But the proud Norman already looked upon himself as the equal of the King of France. When he approached the throne, instead of stooping down to kiss the royal foot, he caught hold of the King's toes, and throwing him backwards, chair and all, exposed him to the ridicule of his own subjects, and to the scorn of the Normans.
But though the Normans first came into France as pirates, and conducted themselves as savage conquerors, supported by no power except the sword, they soon became a great deal more than either pirates or mere conquerors. Like the Danes in England, they settled down in the rich land they had made their new home. They learnt much from the French who surrounded them, and with their strong character and their bright wits they made the best use of what they learnt. They adopted the religion, and in a great part the speech of those whom they had conquered. They became a Christian people, and it is to them that France owes many of the splendid churches which are to be seen in Normandy to this day. They learnt to read and write, and some of them became famous as authors. They learnt to be expert workers in metal. The armour that they wore and the weapons with which they fought remain to this day as proofs of their skill. As architects and builders, their name became famous throughout the world; and to this day we speak of "Norman Architecture" to describe the style of building which they chose for their churches and for their fortresses.
Above all, they became a disciplined people, governed by strict laws, both in peace and in war. Accustomed to practise all military exercises, they learnt that victory was to be obtained as much by obedience and order as by valour and strength. When we meet with these Normans again in our history, we shall then find them no longer the fierce, uncivilised warriors who landed with Rolf in 876, but disciplined, well-trained soldiers, men skilled in all the learning of their day, law-makers, and statesmen, as fit to conquer as the followers of Rolf, and far more fit to rule.
The Victories of Athelstan (Ch 7)
"Here Athelstan, King,
Of Earls the Lord,
Of heroes the bracelet-giver
And his brother eke,
Edmund Etheling,
Livelong glory
In battle won
With edges of swords
Near Brumby." -- "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle," 937.
And now we must return to the course of events in England.
When we remember how completely the Danes seemed to have been defeated and subdued by Alfred and Edward the Elder, it seems strange to find that the greater part of Athelstan's reign was occupied in defending his kingdom from Danish invasion. But such was the fact. Many of the Danes had settled down among the English, had married English wives, and learnt the English tongue, but the emigration from Norway and Denmark was by no means yet over. We have already seen how some of the Northmen had found their way southwards, and had founded the Norman State in France. Others, afraid to land in England, had sailed round to Ireland, in the reign of King Edward, and had planted a colony at Dublin. And now, both from Norway itself and from Ireland, there came a fresh invasion, and England once more had to defend itself. The Welsh, suffering from their defeat in fighting Edward, joined the Danes; and among their countrymen already settled in England, the Danish invaders found allies.
Athelstan advanced against them, and at a great battle at Brunanburgh (937), of which the exact locality is unknown, gained a complete victory. Five of the Danish kings and seven of the great Danish chiefs, or Earls, [Our title of "Earl" is the same as the Danish "Jarl."] were killed in the battle.
The story of the fight may still be read in a long poem which was written at the time. The poem is not in English such as we speak now, but it is written in the Anglo-Saxon language, which was the language which the people of England talked in the time of King Athelstan.
The poem is made up of a number of very short lines, or verses, and no doubt it was sung by the harpers, who pleased the king and his soldiers by singing to them of their brave deeds, and of their great victory over the Danes. It tells us how fierce the fight was, how bravely the English fought, and how at last the Danes were beaten, and fled. The poem has been translated into English, and here is an extract from it:
There lay many a warrior
Slain by the spear;
There lay the Northmen
Shot over the tops of their shields.
And there were the Scots
Weary and sad;
The bands of West Saxons
All day long pursued
The hated strangers.
* * * *
The Northmen departed
In their nailed ships. *
* * * *
On the roaring ocean
O'er the deep water,
Dublin to seek;
And to Ireland again,
With minds full of shame.
* * *
Greater bloodshed
In this island
Has never been seen
Before this day
As the books tell us,
As the old writers say,
Since the time when there came here
The Angles and the Saxons
From the East,
Over the broad seas
To England.
* This means that the planks of which their ships were made were fastened together with nails.
Dunstan. (Ch 7)
"For Church and State."
Three years after the battle of Brunanburgh, Athelstan died, and was succeeded by his brother Edmund (940). Edmund was only eighteen years of age when he became king, and, encouraged by his youth, the Danes again renewed their attacks. But the new king showed himself not less courageous and successful than his brother, and defeated his enemies in several battles. Unfortunately, his reign was cut short in a tragic manner. A certain Liofa, well-known as an outlaw and a robber, was captured by order of the King, who spared his life and exiled him from the country.
After a few years had passed, Liofa returned, and finding his way to the English court, entered the great banqueting hall where Edmund was feasting. He had the boldness to walk up the hall and seat himself at the table. Indignant at the insult, Edmund ordered his servants to expel the intruder, and make him a prisoner. Liofa drew a dagger, and sought to defend himself, and the King, in a passion, caught the robber by the hair and threw him to the ground. But the outlaw, suddenly leaping to his feet, plunged his dagger into the King's heart. He was cut down and killed, but Edmund's wound was mortal. He died at the age of twenty-four, after a short and brilliant reign of six years. His brother Edred was chosen king in his place.
Edred (946) reigned a very short time; but his reign is memorable because during it we find the first mention of a very famous name -- that of Dunstan, who, without doubt, was for many years the greatest man in England. Dunstan was born near Glastonbury in the year 925; he became a priest at a very early age, and when only eighteen was made Abbot of Glastonbury. In our own day we are familiar with many of the great abbeys of England. Some of them, such as Fountains, Tintern, and Glastonbury itself, are in ruins; others, such as Westminster and Romsey, are still used as churches. At the time when Dunstan was appointed Abbot of Glastonbury, he was at the head of a body of monks who lived in the Monastery surrounding the Abbey. The monks were men who had agreed to live together and to obey certain rules; they promised never to marry, and they undertook to give up their lives to religion and good works. The Nunneries resembled the Monasteries, but were occupied by women who bore the name of nuns, and who were usually under the rule of an abbess. The name of Hilda, the Abbess of Whitby (657), is still remembered, both on account of the pious life and good works of its bearer, and on account of the great Abbey Church of St. Hilda, of which the ruins are to be seen on the cliff at Whitby to this day.
At the time when Dunstan lived, the monasteries were the centre of almost all the learning and education of the country, and the arts of reading and writing were chiefly known and practised by the monks and nuns. Many of the monks devoted themselves to good works, but many among them undoubtedly took a bad advantage of the safety which their religious position gave them and lived bad lives, doing harm rather than doing good.
King Edred, hearing of Dunstan and of the knowledge and ability which he showed, sent for him and made him his most trusted counsellor. The reign of Edred lasted for nine years, and that of his nephew Edwy, who succeeded him, lasted only three years. It was not till Edgar (959), Edwy's brother, came to the throne, that Dunstan became really powerful. Edwy had sent Dunstan away from the Court, but Edgar recalled him, and made him his chief adviser in all that he did.
We know enough of the life of Dunstan to be able to form some idea of what kind of a man he was. Like all other men, he was a mixture of good and evil, and certainly had many faults; but he was beyond doubt a wise and honest adviser to those who asked for his advice and followed it. He had two great ambitions -- the one to make England great and powerful; the other to make the Church, and all those who belonged to the Church, powerful and rich. He was a stern, harsh man, and always anxious to have his own way; to those who disagreed with him, he was rough and cruel. Such a man was sure to make enemies, and Dunstan made many; but he did much that was good, and his name has always been justly remembered as that of a great Englishman. He was made Archbishop of Canterbury by King Edgar, and he used his power in that high position to do all the good he could to the Church of which he was the head. As Abbot of Glastonbury, he had learnt that many of the monasteries were in very bad order, and that priests and monks were leading lives that brought shame upon the Church. He caused inquiry to be made, drove out the evil-doers, and put better men in their places. After his death men called him a saint, and many strange stories were told of the wonderful things he was said to have done while he was alive. The name of Dunstan is still to be found in many places in England, and there are no less than nineteen churches which are called "St. Dunstan's" after the great man of whom we have been reading.
In the middle of the busy streets of the city of London, in Fleet Street, there stands a church with a tall tower, which recalls the name of King Edgar's great Archbishop, for it is called the "Church of St. Dunstan"
Edgar. (Ch 7)
"Was no fleet so insolent,
No host so strong,
That in the English race
Took from him aught
The while the noble King
Reigned on his throne!"
-- Description of Edgar in the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle."
With Dunstan's help, Edgar became a great king, and in his time there was peace in England. All the "Under-Kings" or chiefs, obeyed him, and were willing to serve him. There is a story told of the king which shows how powerful he was. It is said that Edgar was rowed in a boat on the River Dee, near Chester, and that every one of the eight rowers was himself an English, Scottish, or a Welsh king who had submitted to the great King of England.
There is another story told of King Edgar and his times which helps us to understand what a change has taken place in our country since his day. In his reign there were thousands of wolves in Wales, and they were so fierce, that at last Edgar determined to get rid of them. At that time the Welsh paid to the king a sum of money in the form of a tribute. Edgar sent to the Welsh and told them that for the future they need not pay any tribute in money, but that, instead, they must send him each year the heads of three hundred wolves. The Welsh obeyed, and many hundreds of wolves' heads were brought to the King. But though so many were killed, it is certain that very many must have been left alive; for there were plenty of wolves in Wales, and in England too, long after the days of King Edgar.
It seems strange to think of these savage animals running wild in our country. Now, the largest wild animal that eats other creatures which is left in England is the badger; and as there are very few badgers, and as the very few that are left generally take their walks between one and three o'clock in the morning, when most of us are in bed and asleep, not many people ever see a badger at all. It is true that there are other wild animals of the same kind still left, but they are even smaller than the badgers. There are the foxes; but if it were not that foxes were kept for hunting in some parts of the country, there would soon be no foxes left alive. There are also a few otters, and there are weasels and stoats, which are fierce little creatures. But the day has long gone by when Englishmen have anything to fear from any wild beast, such as the wild boars and the wolves, which were common in every part of the land in the time of King Edgar.
King Edgar died when he was thirty-two years old. He had been twice married. His first wife was called Aelfleda, and she had a son named Edward. Edgar's second wife was called Aelfrida, and she also had a son whose name was Aethelred. There was a division among the people as to which of the young princes should succeed to the throne, and two parties were formed. Dunstan took up the cause of Edward, who was only a boy of fourteen, and whom the great Archbishop could easily guide. But though Edward had succeeded in gaining the crown, his life was but a short one, and had a tragic ending. Jealous of her step-son, and longing to see her own boy Aethelred made king, Aelfrida plotted against the young king's life, and soon found means to carry out her plan. One day, as Edward was out hunting, he stopped, as he rode back from the hunt, at the door of Corfe Castle, in Dorsetshire, where his step mother lived. When Aelfrida heard that the king was at the door, she came out and begged him to dismount, and enter the castle. The king, however, refused to enter. No doubt he knew that his step-mother was jealous of him, and wished to do him an injury. He would only stop to drink a cup of wine, he said, and then ride on again. The wine was brought, but while the king was drinking, a man, paid by Aelfrida to do the deed, stabbed him in the back, and killed him. The people heard with regret of the murder of the young king, but Aelfrida rejoiced, because nothing now stood in the way of her own son Aethelred.
Aethelred now, in an unlucky hour for his country, ascended the throne. As for Aelfrida, she soon found that her crime had not brought her happiness. Overcome by remorse, she shut herself in a nunnery, and passed the rest of her life sorrowing over the wrong she had done.
Chapter 8. The Danish Conquest 979-1016.
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
Aethelred, "The Un-redy." (Ch 8)
"The prince that wanteth understanding is also a great oppressor." Proverbs xxviii. 16
The reign of Aethelred (979) was an unhappy one for England. Aethelred was called The "Unready." This name did not mean that the King was unpunctual, or that he was not ready to do things when they had to be done; it really meant something quite different. There is an Anglo-Saxon word "rede" which means "counsel," and Aethelred the "Unready" really meant Aethelred the Un-redy -- that is to say, a man who was not well counselled or well advised in what he did.
The very first thing which Aethelred did when he became king showed that he was indeed without "rede"; for he quarrelled with the wisest counsellor he had. This wise counsellor was Dunstan, who was soon obliged to leave the king's court and to go and live far away, to escape from his enemies, who were the young king's friends.
The wise old man saw that the king would bring misfortune upon his country, but he could do nothing to stop it. Dunstan died in the year 988, nine years after Aethelred had come to the throne; he was sixty-three years old when he died. Seven kings had reigned in England during his life, and he had been the friend and adviser of four of them.
Other people besides Dunstan soon saw that Aethelred was a weak man, and without counsel. Among the persons who saw this was Sweyn, King of the Danes. Sweyn, who was called by his people "Sweyn of the Forked Beard," or "Fork-beard," was a great and powerful king, and he longed to come over to England and win victories over the English, as so many other Danish kings had done before him. At last he persuaded Olaf, King of Norway, to join with him, and the two kings sailed together with their fleet into the River Thames.
The English in London fought bravely, but Aethelred was less brave than his people. He thought of a way of getting rid of the Danes which would save him the trouble of fighting them. He offered to pay them large sums of money if they would go away and leave England in peace. It soon became plain that this was very nearly the worst plan he could have chosen; the Danes found out that Aethelred was afraid of them, and when they knew that they could get money by coming over, they came again and again.
Ethelred now put a tax upon the English; each man had to pay so much a year towards the sum which was to be given to the Danes. This tax was called the "Dane-geld," or the "Dane Money." [The German word for money is still "geld."] Naturally enough, the Danes, as soon as they learnt that the Danegeld was ready for them, lost no time in coming over to get it. And thus matters became worse than when the English had shown a brave front to their enemies.
Once more Ethelred showed how "un-redy" he was, for he thought of a new plan of getting rid of the Danes which was even worse than that of paying them money to go. He gave secret orders that on a certain night all the Danes who were living in England were to be killed. The night which was chosen was that of St. Brice's Day, which is on the 13th of November (1002). On that night a great many of the Danes, who suspected no harm, were cruelly put to death.
Among those who were killed, was the sister of Sweyn, King of Denmark. When Sweyn heard what had been done, he was terribly angry, and he vowed that he would come to England and destroy all that he could find there.
He sailed with an army, and came to Exeter. He took and burnt the city of Exeter, and killed many of the English. The next year he came to England again, and this time he landed near Norwich. The English were foolish enough to promise to pay the Danes a great sum of money if they would go away and not injure their town. The Danes took the money, and then burnt the town they had promised to spare.
Ethelred the Un-redy could do nothing to beat back the armies of the Danes, and soon misfortunes multiplied, for Edric Streona, one of Aethelred's own generals, and a great chief among the people, went over and joined the Danes with some of the English ships.
St. Alphege. (Ch 8)
"Then was it in every wise a heavy time because the Northmen never ceased from their evil doings." -- "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle." A.D. 1000.
At last Aethelred had scarcely any towns left in his possession. Every one had been taken by the Danes except London and Canterbury.
Soon a strong army of Danes marched to Canterbury. They took the city and burned it to the ground. The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was called Alphege. He was made prisoner by the Danes.
They told Alphege that if his people would pay a large sum of money, he should be set free. Then the Archbishop replied: "My people are poor and in distress. They had little before you came, and now you have taken from them the little that they have. I will never make my people pay to set me free."
At first the Danes did not believe him. They thought that he would be afraid of death, and that he would ask his friends to pay the money. But Alphege was as brave as he was good. He took no trouble to try to get the money, but he spent his time in trying to convert to Christianity the Danish soldiers who guarded him.
The Danes now became angry; and one day, when their chiefs were feasting together, they sent for Alphege, their prisoner, and had him brought before them. In their fierce drunken anger they cried out to the Archbishop, "Where is your gold? Give us the gold!" Alphege stood calm and unmoved. Then the feasters dragged Alphege out of the hall, and began to throw at him their drinking cups and the bones which were left from the meat upon which they had been feasting.
The Archbishop fell upon his knees; and as he knelt, one of the Danes struck him to the ground with his axe, and killed him.
It is not wonderful that the English people were proud of their good Archbishop, and that they soon learnt to call him "Saint Alphege."
There is a church in the town of Greenwich called the church of St. Alphege, and in it these words were written up, and could be read by anyone until a few years ago, when the church was altered:
"This Church was built to the Glory of God and in memory of St. Alphege, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was here slain by the Danes, because he would not ransom his life by an unreasonable sum of money."
At last Aethelred gave up all hope of fighting against the Danes, and fled like a coward from his country. Thereupon Sweyn, King of Denmark, became the real King of England (1013), and for the first time there was a Danish king upon the English throne.
When Sweyn died, the people of England sent for Aethelred, and made him return to his country. They preferred to have a king of their own, even though he were a bad one, rather than a foreigner.
But Aethelred had not learnt wisdom while he was in exile; and though he and his son Edmund fought against the Danes, and tried once more to free the country from them, the English were again beaten and the Danes left masters of the field.
Aethelred was twice married. His first wife was named Aelflaed. His second was Emma of Normandy, sister of Richard "The Good," Duke of Normandy.
Aethelred died in Iho year 1016, when he was forty-eight years old. He had been king for thirty-seven years. Seldom has England been so unhappy and so unlucky as it was in the days of "Aethelred the Un-redy."
Chapter 9. The Danish Kings and Edward the Confessor 1016-1066.
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
Edmund Ironside and Canute. Harold and Harthacanute. (Ch 9)
"Canute, King of England, Denmark, Norway, and part of the Swedes, to Aethelnoth, Metropolitan, * and Elfric, Archbishop of York, and to all bishops, nobles, and to the whole nation of the English high and low, health." -- From a Letter of King Canute to the English.
[Metropolitan -- The Archbiship of Canterbury; the head, or Metropolitan of the Church in England.]
After the death of Aethelred, his son Edmund became king (1016). Edmund was a brave man and a good soldier, and justly gained the honourable title of Edmund Ironside. He fought many battles against Canute and the Danes; and at last both sides, weary of fighting, agreed to divide England between them. Canute was to have one part, and Edmund Ironside was to have the other part.
But this plan of having two kings did not last long; for after he had been king only seven months, Edmund died, leaving two little children, called Edward and Edmund. We must not forget Edward, the son of Edmund, for although he himself played no part in our history, his son, Edgar Atheling, and his daughter, Margaret, were both important personages, and became famous in their day. For the time they fled to Sweden, where they found a refuge.
When King Edmund Ironside died, Canute, the Dane, became king over all England (1017), for there was now no serious rival to fight against. Although Canute was a foreigner, he proved to be a very good king. He made up his mind that he would make friends with the English, and that he would govern the country in the way they wished. He sent away many of the Danes who had come over with him from Denmark, and gave the offices which they held to Englishmen. He said that the English laws should be observed, and not the Danish ones, and that equal justice should be done to Danes and English alike. He divided the English kingdom into four great divisions, each of which he put under the government of a "Jarl" or Earl. We shall see that these Earls became very important persons before many years had gone by. He married Emma of Normandy, who was the widow of King Aethelred the Unready.
It is not wonderful that, when the English saw how friendly King Canute was to them, they should be ready to help him and to obey him. So popular did he become with his new subjects, that, when he crossed the sea to fight against his enemies in Sweden, many of the English went with him, to fight as his soldiers. An English army, under King Canute, fought against the Swedes, and defeated them in a great battle.
While Canute was king, the people of foreign countries learnt to fear and respect England; and the name of Canute was well known throughout all Europe.
A well-known story is told of Canute, which shows that the king was a wise as well as a powerful monarch. One day, so the old chronicle tells us, the king, surrounded by his courtiers, stood on the sea-shore at Southampton. Willing to flatter him, and thereby to win his favour, his courtiers began to praise him, and to speak with awe of his power and authority. "Give the command," said one of them, "and even the waves of the sea would obey you, and the on-coming tide cease to flow." The king heard with indignation the words of the flatterer, and turning to his courtiers, he bade them bring his chair of state and place it on the beach in front of the advancing waves. He then solemnly ordered the tide to stop its advance. But the resistless tide swelled and rose, as the king knew full well it must, until the water washed Canute's feet as he sat on his throne. Then turning to his courtiers he sternly rebuked them.
Canute died when he was forty years old (1035), and after his death misfortune once more fell upon England. Canute had three sons -- Harthacanute, Sweyn, and Harold. Sweyn became King of Norway, Harthacanute became King of Denmark; but the question as to which of the three should be King of England brought about a sharp division. There were two parties, one in favour of Harold, the other of Harthacanute. One of the great Earls, Leofric of Mercia, supported Harold; another, Earl Godwin, supported Harthacanute.
It was at length agreed to divide England between the two kings, but this arrangement did not last long, for two years later, in 1037, Harold became sole king. On his death, however, Harthacanute succeeded him as king (1040). He was a very different man from his father; he was violent, unjust, and tyrannical. His attempts to raise taxes from the people led to a revolt, which was put down with great cruelty. Fortunately, after a short reign of two years, Harthacanute died; it is said that he killed himself through excessive drinking.
Edward the Confessor and the Great Earls. (Ch 9)
"King Edward came to Westminster at midwinter, and there caused to be consecrated the Minster which himself had built to the Glory of God, and of St. Peter, and all God's saints; and the Church-hallowing was on Childermass Day (December 28th)." -- "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle."
On the death of Harthacanute the English thought that the time had come to rid themselves for ever of Danish rule. The Danes in England were divided among themselves, and Harthacanute had left no son to claim the throne. The people were determined to have an English king once more, and there was no difficulty in deciding upon whom the choice should fall.
Edward, the second son of Aetlielred and Emma, had taken refuge in Normandy before the reign of Canute. Messages were now sent to him, inviting him to come over and occupy the throne of his father, Aethelred. Edward accepted the invitation the more readily because it was supported by the powerful influence of Earl Godwin, who at this time was the most important person in England. Godwin himself sought to increase his power over the king by giving him his daughter Edith in marriage.
At first all seemed to go well. The English were delighted to have once more an English king, and thought that at last their country would be free from foreign interference. Unluckily, they were doomed to disappointment.
During his long stay at the Norman Court, Edward had made many friends among the Normans and had acquired the tastes and adopted the manners of those among whom he lived. That he should bring over many of his Norman friends to share his good fortunes in England was natural, but not wise. The English nobles soon found that the power had passed from the hands of the Danes only to fall into that of the Normans. An English party soon grew up. It was led by Godwin, supported by his three sons, Sweyn, Harold, and Tostig. It was not long before an open quarrel broke out between the Norman and the English parties. The people of Dover attacked Eustace of Boulogne, a Norman noble, who had married King Edward's sister. They charged him with having insulted one of their townsmen. A riot followed, and Eustace barely escaped with his life.
Godwin supported the people of Dover, Edward stood by his Norman friends, and both sides openly took up arms. At first, fortune favoured the king, and he succeeded in driving Godwin and his three sons out of the country, but it was not long before the earl returned, stronger than ever. The people refused to support the king, whose whole favour was given to the Normans, and nothing was left for him but to submit to Godwin and to receive him into his favour.
Shortly after his return, Godwin died (1052), lamented by the English. His sons, Harold, Sweyn, and Tostig, became as great and as powerful as their father had been before them. Of the three brothers, Harold was the most powerful, and the weakness of Edward served to increase his influence.
The remaining years of Edward's reign are, indeed, occupied far more with the history of Harold than of the king himself. Step by step Harold succeeded in overcoming the other great nobles who might have disputed the mastery with him, till at last he was, without question, the foremost man in the kingdom.
Meanwhile, the king lived on; but he had no son, and it was clear that on his death there would be a struggle for the throne. The true heir would, no doubt, have been another Edward, a son of the king's elder brother, Edmund Ironside. Edward, with his three children, Edgar, Margaret, and Christina, was in Hungary. He was invited over to England, and would, no doubt, have been chosen king on his uncle's death had he not died within a few days after reaching England. His place should naturally have been taken by his son Edgar, known as "Edgar Atheling." But though Edgar Atheling played a great part in English history at a later date, and though his descendants became kings and queens of England, he himself never sat upon the throne.
It may seem strange that in this short account which has been given of the reign of King Edward so little should have been said about the king himself. It seems all the more strange when we remember that the name of this weak and unsuccessful king is, perhaps, better known to us than that of any of the Saxon kings, with the exception of Alfred. It was not till after his death that Edward received the title of "The Confessor." ["Confessor" meaning one who had suffered for his religion.]
By this name he will be always remembered, and the name of Edward the Confessor will always be connected with one great monument in English history. The king himself was a man of weak character, and did little for his country in stormy times; but he was pious and studious, a lover of books, and preferred the company of priests and students to that of soldiers and statesmen. From priests and students, therefore, he received due honour; and as in those days the priests were the only writers of history, it was natural that they should have spoken with praise and admiration of one who was friendly to them and to their Church. It has been said that the name of Edward the Confessor will always be connected with one great monument: it is that in which his own tomb may still be seen. In his day there lay in the middle of the River Thames a little island, named Thorney Island. On either side of it were marshes, and the Thames flowed broad and shallow, very different from the deep, swift stream which we see now. If we stand on Westminster Bridge, in the heart of London, we look down upon the spot where the Island of Thorney lay eight hundred and thirty years ago. It was on this island that King Edward built his church, which was dedicated to St. Peter. As we stand on Westminster Bridge, we can see two towers rising close to the Houses of Parliament; these are the towers of the "Church of St. Peter."
On the opposite page is a picture of the church. It is very different from that which Edward built more than eight hundred years ago, for many English kings and queens have added to the work which Edward began, and the beautiful building which we see in the picture has grown bit by bit, until it has become one of the greatest and most famous churches in the world. It is called by the name which King Edward gave to it "The Church of Saint Peter"; but all Englishmen know it still better by another name, and speak of it as "Westminster Abbey."
It is in Westminster Abbey that many of England's greatest men lie buried, and under its tall pointed arches we can see the graves of many famous men whose names are known to all the world. And when we see them we must not forget to ask which is the grave of Edward the Confessor, King of England, who first built the church of Saint Peter on Thorney Island more than eight hundred years ago.
Chapter 10. The Norman Conquerors 1066.
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Principal events during the during the period described in this chapter: |
The Last of the English Kings. (Ch 10)
"And this year also was Harold consecrated King; and he with little quiet abode therein, the while that he wielded the Realm." "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle."
On the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold at once came forward and claimed the throne. We have seen that he was not the true heir, but that Edgar, The Atheling, was alive. But at that time the rule that the Kings of England should succeed to the throne by right of birth was not fixed, nor always followed. Harold was on the spot, and powerful; Edgar was afar off, young, and without friends. It was not unnatural, therefore, that the Witanagemot, or Assembly of Councillors, should have agreed to choose as their king the great and powerful Earl of Wessex.
Harold showed himself not unworthy of the choice; and as long as he had only to contend with enemies within his own kingdom, he proved successful in all he undertook. He attacked and defeated the Welsh, who had made themselves a terror to the English on the bunks of the Severn. He defeated, or he won to his side, the great nobles who threatened his throne, and he won the confidence of the people, who saw in him a brave and wise sovereign of the same race and the same speech as themselves.
Unfortunately, the reign, so happily begun, was to end in a disaster, and Harold himself was partly to blame for the fate which was so soon to overtake both himself and his people.
Before we recount the last chapter in the history of our Saxon kings, we must go back for a moment to those Northern warriors who had settled on the coast of France, and who had founded the great Duchy of Normandy. Five dukes had ruled since the days of Rolf the Ganger. Now, in Harold's time there reigned in the city of Rouen a great soldier and a powerful ruler, known as William, Duke of Normandy. William and Harold were no strangers. About two years before the death of Edward the Confessor, the English earl was sailing down the Channel. A storm arose, the ship was wrecked, and Harold was cast ashore on the Norman coast. The duke heard that Harold was in his country. He sent messengers, and begged him to come to Rouen. While there, so at least the Norman historians declare, Harold made a promise, that on the death of Edward the Confessor, he would recognise the claim of William to the throne of England, and would assist him to make his claim good. The duke called upon Harold to swear to fulfil his promise with his hand placed upon a silver casket. Within the casket, we are told, were contained sacred relics, which, as it was believed at that time, made the oath more solemn and binding than it would otherwise have been, and made it a great sin on Harold's part to break it. It may well be asked what claim William of Normandy had to the crown of England. It was, in truth, a very slight one. His aunt, Emma of Normandy, had married King Aethelred, and Edward the Confessor, therefore, was his cousin. But William declared that there was something which gave him a greater claim than the mere fact of his being a relation to King Edward. He declared that when on a visit to England he had spoken to King Edward about the succession to the throne, and that the king had named him as his heir and successor.
It cannot be said that either the promise made by King Edward, or the oath sworn by Harold, gave William a just claim to the crown. It was soon seen that if William's claim was weak, his power of making other people admit it was strong. Harold had scarcely ascended the throne, when the duke demanded a fulfilment of the promises which he declared had been made to him. He styled himself King of England, called Harold a usurper, and persuaded the Bishops of the Church in Normandy to support his claim. He immediately set to work to collect an army for the invasion of England, and 900 ships and 60,000 soldiers were assembled on the Norman coast. To make the task of invasion easier, William sought for allies in England itself. He found them without difficulty. Tostig, Harold's brother, was angry because he himself had not been chosen king by the people. He readily promised aid to the Normans. Nor was this all. He sent to Norway, to Harold Hardrada, one of the most powerful of the chiefs of the Northmen, and invited him to come over with his army. Harold Hardrada agreed, and, landing in the North, joined his forces to those of Tostig.
The Battle of Hastings. (Ch 10)
"The Romans in England they once held sway,
The Saxons they after them led the way,
They tugged with the Danes till an overthrow
They both of them got from the Norman bow."
King Harold was watching the English Channel, when he heard his new enemies were marching to York. He started immediately for the North with all the troops he could collect. As soon as the two armies approached each other, a messenger was sent from Tostig to ask whether Harold would make peace and agree to divide the kingdom with his brother. Harold answered like a brave Englishman. "To my brother Tostig," said he "I will give the kingdom of Northumberland, and I will make peace with him, for he is an Englishman. But to Harold Hardrada, who is a foreigner and an enemy, I will give him six feet of English ground; or, as I hear that he is taller than most men, I will give him seven feet, but that is all the English ground he will have from me."
All hope of agreement was now gone, and nothing remained but to fight for the mastery. The battle that followed was long and fierce, but at length the enemy were defeated, and both Harold Hardrada and Tostig were killed. The spot where the battle was fought is known as Stamford Bridge, on the River Derwent, in Yorkshire. It was the last triumph of the English arms.
Harold, with his victorious army, marched off in haste to the south, to fight against his second enemy, William the Norman, but this time no victory awaited him. Four days after the battle of Stamford Bridge the Norman army landed at Pevensey, near Hastings. As William stepped on shore, he fell, but as he rose he picked up a clod of earth from the ground. "See," said one of the duke's followers, "our Duke has already taken the soil of England." Had Harold been at Pevensey with his army, he might have prevented the Normans from landing; but, unfortunately, he came too late.
The whole of the Normans got safely on shore, and marched to a place about five miles north of Hastings. It was not for some days that Harold was able to get an army strong enough to meet the enemy; his troops, it is said, had dispersed for the purpose of salting the meat which was to form their winter store. At last, upon the 14th day of October, in the year 1066, the English and the Norman armies met.
At first the Normans were beaten back by the English. The English soldiers stood with their shields and their axes in a great ring round King Harold. Again and again the Normans tried to break through the ring, and each time they were beaten back.
At last William ordered the Normans to pretend to run away. Then the English broke their ranks and followed them; but as soon as they had broken their ranks, the Norman horsemen rode among them and cut them down without difficulty. But still the great ring round the king remained unbroken. Then William thought of another plan he bade his archers fire their arrows up into the air, so that they should fall on the heads of the English.
It so happened that one of these arrows struck King Harold in the eye. The king fell to the ground mortally wounded. Then those who had stood round him began to give way, and when the English saw that the Royal Standard had fallen, and that their king was dead, they fled on every side.
Soon the battle was over, and the Normans had won the victory. Fifteen thousand of the Norman soldiers had been killed, and a still greater number of the English. The body of King Harold was found the next day upon the battlefield. It was buried under a heap of stones, but it was afterwards taken away and buried again at Waltham Abbey, in the county of Essex.
And so ended for many years the story of our English kings. William the Norman became King of England (1066), and for more than a hundred years England was ruled by foreigners, and was under the power of the Normans. A great abbey was built on the battlefield in memory of the great fight, and it is called to this day "Battle Abbey."
Chapter 11. The Story of the English
Our Forefathers in Germany.
"The history of the English people begins among the forests of Germany."
The last few chapters have been given up to the story of the Saxons in England, and the rule of the Anglo-Saxon kings. A few pages further on we shall read of the fall of the Anglo-Saxon kings, and of the rise of another power in England that of the Normans. This is, therefore, a proper and convenient place to say something more about our Anglo-Saxon forefathers, and to ask not only what they did, but what manner of men they were, what language they spoke, and what were their customs and their laws. Anyone who desires to learn the history of his country must follow the events which took place, must acquaint himself with the names of the kings, must know something of the battles which were fought, and of the portions of the various kingdoms, which, one after another, became powerful in England. It is for this reason that a brief account of these matters has been given in the preceding chapters of this book; but it must not be supposed that when the nature and order of these events has been learnt we have made ourselves master of what is really important in the history of Saxon England.
The fact that a particular King of Mercia was named Offa or Penda, that Aethelred was a poor creature, or that Edmund lost his life by treachery, makes very little difference to us who are now alive.
But there are parts of the history of the Anglo-Saxons which are of the greatest importance to us, because they explain much in the story of our country which would otherwise be difficult to understand, and because to them may be traced the things which we see and do, the words which we use, and the laws which we live under at the present day.
Once more, it is well to call to mind the fact that the number of pages in a history book does not always represent the number of years in that people's history. Scarcely seventy pages have been given up in this book to telling the story of the early English, but if we remember that between the time when Hengist and Horsa landed at Ebbsfleet in 449, and the time when Harold, the last of the Anglo-Saxon kings, lost his life in 1066, is a space of no less than six hundred and seventeen years, we shall see that there was plenty of time for England to become a very Anglo-Saxon country. That it did so become, and indeed from that time to this has never really been anything else, we shall soon see.
But it is not much use saying that England became an Anglo-Saxon or an English country unless we know what the Anglo-Saxons or English were like. To learn this, it will be well to go back to the earliest account of our ancestors which exists. If we had to depend upon the fierce companions of Hengist and Horsa for our accounts, we should know very little about the subject; for, though in later days there were many famous Anglo-Saxon writers, both poets and historians, the earliest invaders of our shores were far greater masters of the sword than of the pen. Luckily, the same great writer who told us much of what we know of the ancient Britons has given us an account also of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors. Caius Cornelius Tacitus, the Roman who, in his book the "Agricola," left us an account of Britain, also wrote another book called "Germania," or Germany, which has happily been preserved down to our own day. In this book an account is given of the German tribes who inhabited the northern part of Central Europe, and with whom the Romans, in the time of Tacitus, were often at war.
But it will be asked -- what have these German tribes to do with our Anglo-Saxon forefathers? As a matter of fact, they have a great deal to do with them; for it was from these very German tribes that the Anglo-Saxon invaders came, bringing with them their language, their customs and their laws. An historian who set to work to write the history of the people of the United States of America, and made no mention of those European countries from which the white inhabitants of the United States first came would be making a great mistake; and in the same way, anyone who wrote the history of the Anglo-Saxons without enquiring who they were and where they came from would be only half telling the story.
Tacitus was one of the greatest of the Roman writers, and he manages to tell in a few words more than many other writers tell in a whole book. We may be sure that the description which he gives us of the Germans tells us all that he knew or believed with respect to them. This is how he describes them: "A fine, unmixed, and independent race, unlike any other people . . . with stern blue eyes, ruddy hair, of large and robust frames, but with a strength which only appeared when roused to sudden effort." Such were the Germans in appearance. "They would be the slaves of no man; they respected their women, and held them in love and honour. They considered no disgrace equal to that which was the sure reward of a man who showed himself a coward in battle. Fierce and cruel in war, they were content, when the war was over, to lay aside the sword and spear, and to plough their fields and to cultivate their land in peace and quiet."
They were free men, living in little villages scattered throughout a great uninhabited country. Their habits and their laws grew naturally out of the life they lived. In the centre of the little settlement was the village, and all round it for miles lay the uncultivated land, forest, barren heath, or marsh-land. A people which has once settled down to a fixed home soon has to give up hunting as a means of living, and has to take to cultivating the soil. This the Germans did. The head of each family cultivated a plot for himself. That was his own. The pastureland was common to all. Newcomers or old settlers who wanted more land could only have it if it were given to them by the whole village. Sometimes then, as now, people wanted land only for a short time, and for a certain purpose; in that case, it was "let" or "leased," to them. [The land which belonged to the first settlers was known as "Ethel." Land which was given to newcomers or old settlers out of what belonged to the whole village was called "Bocland," because it was given by a charter or "book." Commonland belonging to all the people, or 'folk,' was the "Folkland." The land which was let was the "Laen" or "Loan" land.]
The heads of the village were the "Elders," or "Eldermen," and the meeting in which the rules of the village were made was known as the "Folk-Moot," or People's Council. Each village governed itself, but that did not prevent the people of the same tribe or nation joining together for the purposes of war. The expeditions which from time to time advanced against the neighbouring peoples, and which finally reached the shores of England, were led by chiefs who had made themselves famous by their success in war. Each chief was surrounded by a band of young warriors, who swore to follow him and to serve him. To these he often gave lands which were taken in war, and by reason of their friendship with the chief, the followers, in time, came to be looked upon as persons of special distinction, or noblemen.
The chiefs themselves were, as a rule, chosen from those families of noble birth whose members claimed that they were descended from the gods. They were chosen for their bravery, their experience of warfare, and their bodily strength. Cowardice in the field was considered, as we have seen, to be the greatest of all crimes, the only crime for which it was impossible to atone. Tacitus, who has described the appearance and manners of the Germans, has given us a special account of the band who followed their chiefs. "In the field of battle," he tells us, "it is disgraceful in the prince to be surpassed in valour by his companions. . . . All are bound to defend him and to succour him in the heat of battle, and to make even their own actions add to his renown. This is the bond of honour, the most sacred duty."
The language which these free and warlike Germans spoke did not very greatly differ from that which is spoken at the present day in the country from which they came. In many parts of North-western Germany a language is still spoken which is called "Platt-deutsch," or "Low German," and this Low German is really very like the English which is spoken in Yorkshire and the North of England -- so like, that it is possible to understand very many of the words, and even whole sentences, without knowing any German. The language which the German invaders brought to this country has gone through great changes in the fourteen hundred years which have passed since the landing of the Jutes; but if we compare it with the English which we speak now, we shall see in a moment that it is to the early German invaders, and not to either Romans, Britons, or Normans, that we owe the greatest part of our English language.
Our Forefathers in England. (Ch 11)
"In the two little words, 'shire' and 'county,' if you could make them render up even a small part of their treasure, what lessons of English history are contained!" -- Trench: "On the Study of Words."
We have now learnt something about the men whose descendants became the English people; we have seen them in their German homes, we must now follow them across the sea and inquire what sort of people they became, and what were their manners, customs and speech when they became masters of England. It is very important indeed to do this, because, unless we know something of the life and manners of the Anglo-Saxons, we cannot hope to understand some of the most important of the institutions of our own country in our own day. The chiefs who led the Saxon invasion brought with them their faithful companions, and as land was taken from the Britons it became the property of the new-comers; some was kept as the common property of the whole tribe, some was taken by the chief, and some was given to his followers. As the land became more settled, the custom grew up of choosing the chief or king from the same family; and at last there came to be in each kingdom a royal family, some member of which was always chosen as king.
The customs which had been brought from Germany became in time the laws of the new land. Several sets of Anglo-Saxon laws were drawn up by different kings. We have already read of the laws of Ine, King of Wessex, and of Alfred, and these and others still remain, and may be read in our time. From them we learn many interesting things about the way in which justice was done.
Each village or settlement was made answerable for the crime that was committed in it; it was the business of the village to punish the guilty persons, and to pay the fine which the law imposed.
The Village Council governed the village, and a person who was charged with crime had to prove his innocence to his fellow-villagers; as they had to pay for his fault, it was their business to find out whether he were really guilty and thus we see the beginning of an institution which has lasted down to our own day, namely, the trial of a man by his neighbours and equals. To this day the decision as to a prisoner's guilt or innocence depends upon the verdict of twelve men of the county or town in which the crime he is charged with is committed; and it is the business of these twelve men who form the "Jury" to "well and truly try" the charge.
Besides the village council, there soon came to be councils of more importance. The country as it was conquered was divided up into "shares" or "shires" and in each of these there was a Shire Council, or Shire-Moot. The Shire-Moot both made laws and rules, and tried people for offences. We have nothing quite like this at the present day, but we have a County Court, or Shire Court, which decides disputes, and we have a County Council, or Shire-Council, which makes rules and laws for the shire. Even where a custom has long died out in England, if it be a good one, English people are fond of going back to it.
Not long after the Saxons became Christians, the country was divided up into "Parishes" as well as shires, and now we have gone back to the old names and the old things, and we have a Parish Council and a County Council once more. It is strange to read in the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle," written a thousand years ago, of the doings of the Shire-Moots of Kesteven, Holland, and Lindsey, and then to take up a Lincolnshire newspaper of to-day and read about the County Councils of Kesteven, Holland, and Lindsey. It cannot be said that there was an English Parliament in exactly the same sense as we speak of Parliament now, but there was in the latter part of the Anglo-Saxon times a great Council known as the "Witanagemot," or Council of the Wise. The members were not elected, but were chosen by the king from the great families; perhaps there were some persons who had the right to attend. But though the Witanagemot was not elected, it often had great power, and questions which interested the people were freely discussed at its meetings.
But it is not only in the parish councils and the juries of the early English that we find things which remind us of what is very familiar to us at the present day, There is scarcely a name of a common thing, or a common custom mentioned in the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle" which has not got a meaning in our own day. We still have Dorsetshire, the "Share" of the Dorssetas; the Beadle of the County Court might have been an officer under King Alfred. It is a "furlong," or a "furrow-long" from the County Court to the Parish Church of St. Edmund the Martyr, or St. Edward the Confessor. The Alderman still takes a high place in the Town Council. The names of places, also, remain to teach us our history wherever we go throughout England.
It was in the eastern part of our island that the invaders first settled down, after having driven out or put to death the British population. The names which the followers of Hengist and Horsa gave to the new country, are the familiar names in daily use among us at this day. It is a thousand years ago since a gift of land was made to the Abbey of Medeshamsted. Those who drew up the Charter were careful to see that there should be no mistake as to what the gift was, and they wrote down the boundaries of the property as carefully as a lawyer would at the present day. The Abbey of Medeshamsted has now become the Cathedral of Peterborough; and if we look at the map of the counties of Northampton and Cambridge, we shall be able to follow the description given in the Charter almost as easily as if it had been drawn up yesterday.
Here are the words of the gift:
"This is the gift from Medeshamsted to North Burh, and so to the place which is called Folies, and so all the Fen right to Esendic, to the place which is called Fethermuth; and so on the straight way ten miles on to Cuggedic, and so to Raggewilh; and from Raggewilh five miles to the straight river that goes to Aehm and to Wisbec, and so about three miles to Throkonholt, right through all the Fen country to Dereword, which is twenty miles long, and so to Cynate Cross, and so on through all the meres and fens which lie towards Himtendun Port, through Welmesford, Clive, Aestun, Stanford, and from Stanford as the water runs to the aforesaid North Burh."
Some of these names do not seem quite familiar to us, but there is not one of them that we cannot find on the map in a form so like that given in the Charter that there can be no mistaking it. Northburgh exists now as it did in the days of Wolfhere, who made the grant. We have no Raggewilh, but Bothwell marks its place. The Great Northern Railway runs through Wisbech and Huntingdon. Clive, in in its old form is forgotten, but in its newer form of King's Cliffe is still familiar to us. Aehm has given place to Elm. Throkonholt survives as Throckenholt. Dereward, in the Fens, is still to be found in the Fens as Dereworth. Cynate Cross is Great Cross, Welmesford is Walmsford, Aestun is Aston, and Stanford, with the change of a letter, has come down to us as Stamford.
Chapter 12. The Historians and Writers of England Before The Norman Conquest
"And in truth after his time there were those among the English race who essayed to write religious poems, but not one was able to come on a level with him. For he learnt the art of song, not from man, nor from any human source, but received it as a free gift by Divine grace." -- Bede, describing Caedmon and his Poetry.
Now that we have come to an end of one long chapter in our history, it is natural to ask how we know anything of the facts which took place in days so long ago as those of the Britons, or even in the later times of Edgar and Alfred -- who are the historians that have preserved for us a record of these events, what are the books which they have written, and in what language can the story which they told be read? Happily for the world, the great conquests of Rome spread the Latin language over all Europe; and, at a later date, the Christian Church, in its effort to reach the heathen to whom it sent its missionaries, preserved the Latin language as the language of the Church. And thus it came about that for many hundred years almost all the books in the world were written in Latin -- a language easy to understand, clear and certain in its expressions, and which tells us about the events which it records as plainly as it told the story to the friends of Caesar in Rome, or to the monks who surrounded the Venerable Bede in his abbey in Northumberland eight hundred years later.
We have already seen how two great Roman writers have told us in Latin the story of the Conquest of Britain; and the works of Caesar and of Tacitus are books written in the best time of a great literature.
NENNIUS, GILDAS, ANEURIN, AND TALIESIN.
Of the Britons themselves we know very little from British writers. A few fragments of the works of writers of the ancient British or Celtic race have, however, come down to us; but it is in Ireland that the fullest Celtic records are to be found. The name of Nennius is attached to a history of the Britons written in Latin. Nennius, it seems, was of Celtic race, but he must have lived as late as the eighth or even the ninth century, long after the Britons had been driven out of the greater part of Britain.
The name of Gildas has come down to us as that of another writer who has given us a glimpse of the Britons; but Gildas himself does not seem to have been a Celt, and little is really known of him.
Wales preserves the name of a Celtic writer named Aneurin, and of Taliesin, the chief of the Bards. Both these writers are said to have lived in the sixth century, but neither is to us much more than a name. The famous legends of King Arthur, the heroic king of the Britons, have really come to us from Saxon or Continental writers of a much later period.
BEOWULF, CAEDMON, AND ALDHELM.
It is not, indeed, till we come to Anglo-Saxon times that we find the first traces of a real English literature -- a literature which becomes fuller and more splendid from year to year and from century to century. There are two kinds of writers who tell us the true story of our ancestors. There are the historians and chroniclers, whose task it has been to write down a record of what the men of their day said and did. There are also the poets, who in their way tell us as much as, and more than, the chroniclers; for they tell us what was in the thoughts and the minds of men, what were the things they believed in, loved, or feared. Luckily, we find both historians and poets at a very early date in our history. The great poem entitled "Beowulf" must have been written as far back as the seventh century, at a time when Oswy was king of Northumbria. It is written in Saxon. It contains over six thousand lines, and gives an account of the life and adventures of Beowulf, the hero, who sailed the northern seas and fought with monsters, conquered in battle, and ruled his people with wisdom and mercy. Whenever it was written, the poem was early known in England, and may be looked upon as really the first English poem.
Of about the same date is a great religious poem written by Caedmon of Whitby. The poem is called "The Paraphrase," and it tells part of the Bible story in verse, and speaks of the work of God, the power of evil, and the life of man. Bede, another great writer of whom we shall shortly have to speak, tells the story of the beginning of Caedmon's great poem. "As Caedmon slept," so writes Bede, "there came one to him and said, 'Sing, Caedmon.' 'I cannot,' replied he. 'I came hither from the feasting in the hall because I cannot sing.' 'But,' said the figure in the vision,' it is to me you should sing.' 'What ought I to sing?' inquired the poet. 'Sing the beginning of creatures,' was the reply." Having received which answer, Caedmon, so Bede tells us, began immediately to sing in verse the praises of God the Creator; and when the vision passed away he continued to write verses on the subject which had been sent to him, and in the end completed his great poem "The Paraphrase."
We must pass over the name of Aldhelm (b. 656), who, in the monastery of Malmesbury, wrote much in verse and prose. His work has not been preserved, and we only know of it through others.
BEDE.
We must hasten on to speak of the most notable of all Anglo-Saxon writers -- of Bede, the famous author of the "Ecclesiastical History, or History of the English Church." Born in 673, Bede was brought up first in the monastery of St. Peter at Wearmouth, afterwards at the monastery of St. Paul at Jarrow-on-Tyne. He wrote much, and he wrote well; and in his history of the Church he included much that is of the deepest interest to all Englishmen who wish to know what their country was like twelve hundred years ago, and how men acted and thought in the days before Alfred was king. The works of Bede, which were written in Latin, have been preserved, and have been many times translated into English, so that all who desire can read them. That the writer himself was a man loved and honoured in his day we have clear proof. The story of his death is a well-known, but beautiful one, and so simply told that it will be well to repeat it here.
Four years before his death Bede finished his great history. He was then fifty-nine. Four years later he was engaged in writing a translation of the Gospel of St. John. He was at work in his cell at the monastery at Jarrow when his last illness overtook him. One of his pupils said to him: "Most dear master, there is still one chapter wanting. Do you think it troublesome to be asked to answer any more questions?" "It is no trouble," said Bede. "Take your pen, make ready, and write fast." Then a little later the pupil spoke once more: "Dear master," said he, "There is yet one sentence not written." He answered: "Write quickly." Then said the pupil: "The sentence is now written;" and the master replied: "It is well; you have said the truth -- it is ended. Receive my head into your hands, for it is a great satisfaction to me to sit facing my holy place, where I was wont to pray, that I may, also sitting, call upon my Father." And thus, on the pavement of his little cell, singing, "'Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,' he breathed his last, and so departed into the heavenly kingdom." Such is the story of the death of Bede written by his own pupil. It is told here because it is a beautiful story in itself, and because it shows us that we have now come to a time in English history when we can begin once more to picture men and women to ourselves as real people of whom we know something, and can read accounts of what happened in the actual words of eye-witnesses. It was in the year 735, when Aethelbald was King of Mercia, that Bede died. The tomb, bearing the inscription which tells us that within it lie the bones of the "Venerable Bede," may be seen to this day in the venerable cathedral of Durham. [The inscription runs thus: "Hac sunt in fossa Boedae venerabilis ossa."]
ALFRED AND ASSER.
If not the greatest, Bede is certainly the most important of English writers before the time of the Norman Conquest, because so much of what he wrote has been preserved and may still be read; but there are two other names which must certainly be mentioned in this chapter. In the first place there is that of King Alfred himself, who wrote many books both in Latin and in English, or Anglo-Saxon. He translated the Church History of Bede from the Latin into a language the people could understand; he translated a portion of the Bible, and he also turned into English a famous Latin book by a writer named Boethius. The book deals with religious subjects, and is meant to be a help to Christians in leading a good life.
Not less important, perhaps, than what Alfred himself wrote was the "History of England" which was begun by his orders and under his direction. This history is known as "The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle" and in it were written down the events in each year as they took place. It begins with the history of the early Britons, but what it tells us of events which took place before the reign of King Alfred cannot be depended upon, as those who wrote it had no personal knowledge of the things they described; but from the time of Alfred, "The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle" becomes a really important record of the history of England. It was continued for many years, and the last event which is mentioned in it is the accession of Henry II. in 1154, two hundred and fifty years after the death of Alfred.
A word must be said of Asser, a Welsh monk of St. Davids (d. 910), for to him we owe "The Life of Alfred" from which most of the information about that great king has been gathered. There is no copy of the "Life," as Asser wrote it, in existence, but copies of the original made at a later date were preserved; and, though some alterations have no doubt been made, much of the old book has been kept.
There are a few other names which might be mentioned in this chapter if space permitted, but enough has been said to give an idea of how it is that we know anything of the events which took place in Anglo-Saxon England, and to whom it is that we owe our knowledge.
PART TWO. THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE ACCESSION OF EDWARD I. 1066-1272.
Note.
The second part of our History deals with the period of 206 years which elapsed between the landing of William the Conqueror at Hastings in 1066 and the accession of Edward I. in 1272. The time was one of great and far-reaching changes in England. The Normans who landed on our shores as foreigners and enemies gradually became mixed with the English whom they had conquered. The Norman kings ceased to be Norman, and began to rely upon their English subjects whom they had once despised, but whom they soon learnt to respect. The very speech of the people changed. While Norman-French ceased to be the language of the nobles, the people themselves learned to speak and write in a new language which, though it was English in the main, owed much to the tongue of the masterful conquerors. At length the distinction between Norman and English passed away altogether, and the kings of England became English in fact as well as in name.
Meanwhile, other great changes were taking place in the laws, habits, and thoughts of Englishmen. When we come to the story of Henry II. and Becket we shall learn how, in those days, the great struggle between the civil power on the one hand, and the Church on the other, had begun a struggle which was to last for many years, and was to have a great influence upon the history of our country. The story of Magna Charta is the story of the beginning of our laws, and of the foundation of our liberties. The life and death of Simon de Montfort carry us through the first years of our Imperial Parliament; and thus, when we come to the accession of Edward I., we find a real English nation, with its own language, its own laws, its own place in the world, strong enough to hold its position, and ready to risk its fortunes in war for the purpose of adding to its territory and strengthening its power. In the chapters that follow, we shall learn how England, in its new-found strength, plunged into war a war which, with various changes and various fortunes, occupied the energies of the country for more than a hundred years.
Chapter 13. William I, The Norman Conquest 1066-1087.
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Principal events during the reign of William the Conqueror: |
The Norman Conquerors. (Ch 13)
"Voe victis." ["Woe to the vanquished."]
We read in Chapter 10 an account of the great Battle of Hastings, in which William the Norman, whom we know of in history as William the Conqueror, defeated Harold, King of England. We saw how Harold lost his life in the battle, and how William and his Normans gained the mastery. Battle Abbey, near Hastings, still stands to tell us of the victory which was won on October 14th, 1066.
Now we have to inquire whether the Battle of Hastings, and the victory of the Normans, have left any other marks behind them in the history of our own country -- marks which we can see with our own eyes and in our own time.
First, we must understand what was the condition of poor England after the defeat at Hastings. It was poor England, indeed. Its king had been killed and its best army cut to pieces. The English people themselves were divided into Saxons and Danes, who had only ceased fighting against each other a short time before. On the north, beyond the river Tweed, were the Scots, ever ready to carry war into England; and on the west were the Welsh, all that was left of the old Britons whom the Saxons had long ago turned out of their country. And now, in addition to all the troubles that came from Danes, from Scots, and from Welsh, there was an army of Normans, under their great Duke William, standing as conquerors on the shores of Sussex.
It was not for long, indeed, that William and his army stood still. No sooner had the day been won than the Normans pressed forward to London, and made themselves masters of the whole of the southern part of England. At first, William determined that he would try to put himself in the place of King Harold, and hoped that the English, now they had been beaten, would submit to him, and recognise him as their king.
It seemed as if what he hoped for were likely to take place. Many of the English came and submitted themselves to him, and among them Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury. An English archbishop, Aldred of York, was found ready to crown William King of England, at Westminster. When the great crowd of Englishmen who had come together from all parts were asked whether they would accept William for their king, they cried out, "Yea, yea!" And so it seemed that without any further struggle the country was about to fall into the hands of a foreign king and a foreign army.
Those were dark days for England. Within the limits of the country there were people of four races -- Saxons, Danes, Normans, and Welsh -- all speaking different languages, and having different customs and different ideas. It is true that the Saxons and the Danes had at last become united, and that Canute and Harold had reigned over both Saxon and Dane alike, but the difference between Norman and English was one which seemed as if it could never be healed.
William the Conqueror could not speak a word of English. He and his barons talked and wrote in Norman-French. The English whom he had conquered talked and wrote a language from which our English speech really comes, but which was so unlike it that few who read this book could understand it. This language was Anglo-Saxon.
Here is a passage taken from an old rhyme, and written in AngloSaxon. It is a puzzle to readers of modern English:
"Merie sungen the muneches binnen Ely
da Cnut ching reu der by:
Rowel cnites ncer de land,
And here we bes muneches sceng."
The verse in its English form is more familiar:
"Merrily sang the monks of Ely
As Canute the king was passing by.
Row to the land, knights, said the king,
And let us hear these Churchmen sing."
Norman and Saxon. (Ch 13)
"It is to the stern discipline of our foreign kings that we owe not merely English wealth and English freedom, but England herself. And of these foreign masters the greatest was William of Normandy." J. K. Green: "History of the English People."
Here, then, were two peoples living in the same country, hating each other, and neither of them understanding what the other said.
Soon matters were made worse, for William had brought over with him from Normandy a great number of greedy barons, who would not rest content until they had received as a reward for their services broad lands and estates in England. William was compelled to give great grants of land to his followers, but before he could give the lands to the Normans, he had, of course, to take them away from the English, to whom they belonged.
Naturally, this gave rise to great ill-feeling, and still further increased the hatred of the English for the Normans. Attacks upon the Normans by the English were common, and all such attacks were punished with great severity and cruelty.
An order was given that all Englishmen should put out their fires at sundown, and that they should remain within their houses after nightfall. A bell was rung to mark the hour when the fire was to be extinguished, and an iron hood or cover had then to be put over the fire by every English householder. This hood was called the "Curfew," from a French word, "couvre-feu" which means, "Cover the fire."
The curfew bell, which was the signal for putting out the fires in the house, was for many a long year rung in almost every English town, and there are many places, such as Sandwich and Shrewsbury, where the old custom is, or was till very recently, kept up, and the curfew still "tolls the knell of parting day," although the hard law which the curfew bell gave notice of in the time of William the Conqueror has long since ceased to exist.
Soon the discontent of the English broke out into open war. The last descendant of the English kings was Edgar Atheling, grandson of Edmund Ironside. His name was one which was loved by the English, and more than ever loved now that he represented all that was dear to them, and all that had been taken from them by the Norman invaders.
Edgar Atheling does not seem to have been a man of great bravery or skill, but his name brought him many supporters. The chief among them were Edwin and Morcar, Earls of Mercia and Northumberland. The earls made war upon William, in the hope of putting Edgar upon the throne. They called to their aid Welsh, Scots, and Danes. But they did not know the man they had to deal with in William. He was too quick for them. He attacked them before help could come from their allies, defeated them, and destroyed their army. Edgar himself fled to Scotland. This was the beginning of many battles fought between the Normans and the English.
The Normans built strong castles on the great roads and on the rivers, so as to keep the English in check, and to enable them to hold the lands which they had taken from their enemies. The English fought bravely, but time after time they were beaten by the skill and strength of their enemies.
In one point the Normans had a great advantage over the English. They knew the value of discipline and good order in war. They had learnt the lesson which everybody has to learn before he can be successful in war, or in any undertaking which has to be carried out at the risk of life and involves danger "that he who would command must first learn to obey." No army has ever been successful in which there has not been discipline, and in which men were not ready to give up their own opinions as to what is best to do, and to obey the orders of those who have been put over them.
It would be a long story to tell of all the fighting that took place in England, but one or two incidents must be recalled. The first shows how skilful William was in making use even of his enemies.
In 1073, seven years after the Battle of Hastings, the king heard with alarm that his brother Robert in Normandy was threatening to take his duchy from him. He went over to France in great haste, and the army which he took with him was very largely made up of English soldiers, who, when they got into a foreign country, fought bravely enough against the enemies of the Norman king, whom they had so much reason to hate. With his English army William soon put down all his enemies in Normandy, and returned again to fight in England.
Now we come to the other incident which it is well to recall. After Edgar Atheling had fled into Scotland it seemed as if the last hope of the English had gone, for they were quite without leaders. But there was still one man who showed himself worthy of Alfred and Edgar. This was Hereward, the son of an English noble of Danish descent. He took up arms against the Conqueror, and resisted him with success for a long time.
At length, however, he was forced to take refuge in the Fen country around what is now the city of Peterborough. Protected by the impassable marshes, he defied the Normans. But William was not to be beaten. He had a number of flat-bottomed boats made, in which he placed his soldiers. He built a road, supported on wooden posts, or piles, two miles long through the marshes, and at last reached the English camp. Hereward's small forces were destroyed or taken prisoners, but Hereward himself managed to escape, and continued the war, landing from his ships upon the sea-coast and attacking the Norman towns.
At last, weary of pursuing his active enemy, or else thinking that he could no longer do harm, William made terms with Hereward, and gave him back his lands, and restored him to his former honours. The English long cherished the memory of the brave soldier who had fought for their cause after all seemed lost; and the name of Hereward the Wake, ["The Wake," meaning Awake, or Watchful.] England's Darling, lived long in the hearts of his countrymen.
But despite the gallantry of Hereward, the Norman power gradually spread over the whole of England, and not only over England. Marching into Scotland and into Wales, William defeated first the Scots and then the Welsh, and spread terror wherever his name became known. Within five years of the Battle of Hastings, William was complete master of the whole of England.
King, Barons, and People. (Ch 13)
"There never had been a moment from his boyhood when he [William the Conqueror] was not among the greatest of men." -- J. R. Green: "History of the English People."
And now that we have seen what happened after the Battle of Hastings, and how William became a king in fact as well as in name, it is time to inquire what the Conqueror did with the country he had conquered, and how he treated the people whom he had defeated.
It certainly appeared a very gloomy prospect for the English, and it seems wonderful that such great changes should have taken place since that time. We know that in our own day the differences which existed in William's reign have passed away, and that in England we have but one people, speaking one language, governed by one law, and under one Sovereign. We shall notice as we read on how these great changes came about. At first there seemed very little chance of any of them ever coming about at all, but really they were already beginning in a way which we can now see and understand.
We saw that William came over from Normandy accompanied by a great army of barons, all expecting to be paid for their services. They thought that because in Normandy they were nearly as great lords as their duke, and because they had done so much of the fighting under his leadership, they could make what terms they liked with William, and that they could compel him to give them whatever they wanted. But in this they were mistaken. William was determined that whatever he might be in Normandy, he would be a real king in England, and it so happened that things made it easy for him to gain greater power in England than he had ever had in Normandy.
In the first place, he very wisely said that all the laws of England should be kept. This meant, however, that they were to be kept when it was to his advantage that they should be kept, and that they should only be broken when it suited him.
Now, the English had been accustomed to make payments to the king and to the nobles for a great many purposes, and when William had killed their king, Harold, and taken away their land from their nobles, he declared that the payments which had been made to the king and to the English nobles should in the future be made to him only. This gave him very great sums of money, and money always gives power to him who has it.
Then, again, under the English kings there had been rules by which every town and district was compelled to send a certain number of men to fight the king's battles when called upon. William now said that, as he was king, these men should be sent to fight his battles; and thus he got an army besides the Norman army which he had brought with him. These English soldiers, though they did not love William much, hated the Norman barons more, and were always ready to support the king against his barons.
And lastly, the king, having taken their land from the English, gave a great deal of it to his followers. When he gave it, he made a bargain with everyone who received land from him that he should give some service in return, and that this service should be the sending of a certain number of armed soldiers to fight under the king's orders in case of need. If this service were not paid, the land was to be forfeited.
Thus, in many ways, the king got great power into his hands; and when the Norman barons became, as they often did, dissatisfied with him, and thought they ought to have a greater share of land or money, they found they were quite unable to frighten the king into giving them what they wanted. The king was so much stronger than they were, that if they threatened him or made war upon him, he was sure to march against them, defeat their soldiers and burn their castles.
It is easy to see that the king himself, strong and powerful as he was, had to depend a great deal upon the conquered English, for they alone could enable him to put down the fierce Norman barons, who all thought themselves as good as the king. And thus it came about that very soon the English began to look to William as their protector; and though they feared him very much, they found that greater justice was to be got from him, and from the judges whom he appointed, than from the savage barons who fought each for himself, and who did not care what injustice they did.
It was in France that William met with his death. He had gone over to make war upon the King of France. He marched to Mantes, a town not far from Paris, took the town, and burnt it to the ground. But as he rode through the burning streets, his horse, treading on a hot ember, started violently, and bruised the king. The injury proved fatal. William was carried to a monastery in Rouen, and there died on the 9th of September, 1087. He was sixty-one years of age, and had reigned as King of England twenty-one years.
Chapter 14. Feudalism
What Feudalism Means.
"Hear, my lord: I become liege-man of yours for life and limb and earthly regard, and I will keep faith and loyalty to you for life and death, God help me." -- A Vassal's Oath to his Feudal Lord.
Whenever we read the history of the English people and the early history of England, we are sure to come across the words "Feudal" and "Feudalism" very often. We shall find a great deal written about the "Feudal System." If these words were in common use now, it would not be necessary to explain what they mean, for we should often hear them, and should know what they meant; but the reason why many of us do not know what the words mean, is that the things which they describe are things of the past, and no longer familiar to those who live at the present day.
But there was a time when feudalism and the feudal system were very important matters in England, and we cannot possibly understand the past history of our country unless we know something about them. This chapter, therefore, will be given up to explaining what feudalism means, and what the feudal system was.
We have seen how, when William the Conqueror came over to England, he defeated the English and took from them all their lands. We saw also how he rewarded his own followers, the Norman barons, whom he had brought over with him, by giving them a great part of the land which he had taken from the English.
But William was a wise man as well as a great soldier. He had no intention of giving up the lands to his barons without getting back something in return for what he gave. We know that nowadays if one man has land which he "lets" to another, he expects to get in return a payment in money, which is called "rent." And in the same way, when one man lets a house to another, he expects to receive rent either weekly, monthly, quarterly, or yearly, according to the agreement which is made.
But this was not the kind of agreement which was made between William and those to whom he gave the land. What he did was to say to his barons, "I will give you so much land over which you shall be lord and master; but if I do, you must always give me certain services in return. In the first place, you must always be ready, whenever I go to war, to follow me and to fight for me; and not only that, but you must bring with you a certain number of armed men to fight my battles for me. You are to be their chief, but I am to be your chief and lord. The number of men whom you are to bring depends upon the size of the piece of land I give you, or upon the help which you have given me up till now.
"There are several things which you must do besides coming yourself to fight and bringing your men with you. When my daughter is married, you must pay a certain sum of money to me in order that I may be able to give her a good dowry or wedding gift. When my son comes of age and puts on his armour and becomes a knight, you must also pay me a sum of money. If I am taken prisoner, you must pay a sum of money towards my ransom in order that I may be set free."
These were the three things which the person to whom the land was given generally had to promise to do. They were called the three "Feudal Aids." Sometimes there were other things, but these were the commonest. The king who gave the land was called the "feudal lord," the land which was given was called the "fief," and the person who received it was called the "vassal," and was said to hold his fief from the king.
As a sign that he accepted the land on the conditions laid down, the vassal knelt before the feudal lord bareheaded and unarmed, and placed his hands in the hands of his lord, and then made his promise of obedience in these words: "Hear, my lord: I become liege man of yours for life and limb and earthly regard, and I will keep faith and loyalty to you for life and death, God help me." Then the feudal lord kissed the vassal, and the vassal became the owner of the land, and after his death his son succeeded him.
The making of this promise by the vassal to the feudal lord, and the acceptance by the vassal of his land as a fief from the king as his feudal lord, was called "doing homage," and every vassal was called upon to do homage for the land which he held.
But the king was not the only feudal lord. Sometimes, as we know, a landlord lets a piece of land to another man, who is called his "tenant," and this tenant again lets it to a third person who, becomes tenant of the first tenant. In the same way it often happened that vassals of the king granted parts of their land to vassals of their own. These vassals had to make promises to their lord, just as he had had to make promises before to the king, and the vassals, in their turn, only held their lands as long as they performed the services which they had undertaken to perform.
But King William, and those who came after him, very soon saw that if they allowed their own vassals to have too many vassals under them, there would soon grow up a very strong party who would care little for the king, and a great deal for their feudal lords.
The kings of England, therefore, always made their under-vassals pay homage to them as well as to their feudal lords. In the same way, every man, whether he were a vassal of the king or an under-vassal, bound himself before all things to serve the king.
This plan of giving of lands in return for the promise of services was called the "Feudal System," and all through the early part of English history it was the way in which nearly all the land of England was held. When the king went to war, he sent notices to his great vassals bidding them come and bring their soldiers with them. They, in their turn, sent notices to their under-vassals to come with their men, and thus the king was able to get together a large army in a short time, sometimes as many as sixty thousand men.
The chief thing for which the Feudal System was started was to enable the king always to get a sufficient number of soldiers to fight his battles.
Chapter 15. William II., The "Red King." 1087-1100.
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Principal events during the reign of William Rufus: |
The Sons of the Conqueror.
"If anyone would fain learn what manner of man the king was, let him know that he was of a square-set figure, with ruddy complexion and yellowish hair, and an overhanging brow; he had a shifting eye somewhat bloodshot; his strength was exceptionally great, and that despite his moderate stature. His stomach protruded slightly. Eloquence he had none, but had a marked stutter in his speech, especially when angered," -- William of Malmesbury: "Character of William Rufus."
William the Conqueror had ten children. Of these we may name Robert , the eldest; William, who became King of England, and who is known in English history as William Rufus, or "The Red"; Henry, who also became King of England; and a daughter named Adela, whom we shall hear of again, and whose son, Stephen, also became King of England.
We must remember that William the First was Duke of Normandy as well as King of England, and when he died, the question naturally arose as to who should succeed him as duke and as king. Robert, being the eldest, would have come first, and William himself declared that after his death Robert was to become Duke of Normandy. By the same rule which would have made him Duke of Normandy, he should also have become King of England.
But the three brothers had very little regard either for their father's wishes or for each other's rights. Robert's younger brother, William, came over in all haste to England, and immediately claimed the throne. He found plenty of supporters. Robert was the leader of the Norman barons, and the English, who hated the Norman barons, at once took sides against Robert, and with William. With the aid of the English, William succeeded in defeating the army of the barons, and in forcing them to acknowledge him as king.
Nor was he content with being King of England. Normandy had been left by William the Conqueror to his eldest son. But Robert was in want of money, and he had sold his right to the duchy to William. The king now hastened over to Normandy to take possession of the duchy which he had purchased. With the aid of his new English subjects, who were now seen following the banner of a Norman king, William obtained a complete victory; the Norman rebels were defeated, and Normandy as well as England was compelled to submit to the "Red King."
William Rufus, a fierce and cruel man, did little good to the country over which he was king, but his strength of will and his bravery soon made him undisputed master of England.
One or two things still remain to remind us of his life and death. Like all the nobles of his time, the king was a great lover of the chase, and his cruel and selfish nature made him think little of ruining others to serve his own pleasure.
Great tracts of country were set aside as royal forests. In them no man was to live. They were to be given up wholly to the deer, the wolves, and the wild boars which the king delighted to hunt. To kill the king's game was a crime punishable with death.
One of the best known of the great forests thus set aside, or perhaps enlarged, by William Rufus was in what we now know as the county of Hampshire. To make this forest, the inhabitants were driven off thousands of acres of land, their houses were destroyed, and those who lived in them were turned out into the world to live as best they could.
Everything has a beginning, and eight hundred years ago, in the time of William Rufus, this great royal forest was new. It was natural enough, therefore, to call it the "New Forest," and by that name it has been known down to the present day. When we take the train, and pass through the beautiful country which lies between Lyndhurst and Christchurch, in the county of Hampshire, we may remember that we are passing through the New Forest which William Rufus helped to make.
This bad and selfish act had a consequence which the man who did it could not foresee, but the act has been a fortunate one for us who live nowadays.
In the time of the Norman kings, the crown land of England belonged to the king, just as any private person's park belongs to him now, and the king could do what he liked with it. But in the years which have gone by since the time of William Rufus, there has been a great change made in this respect. Land which belongs to the "Crown" now really belongs to the "People," and as it belongs to all the people alike, they have a right to prevent private persons from enclosing it, or keeping people off it.
Anybody can now go freely throughout the whole of the New Forest, from end to end, and can enjoy the beauties of its scenery. No bit of land can be sold in the New Forest without the leave of a Minister appointed by Parliament; and thus, though we have little enough to thank William Rufus for, we may still thank him for the fact that, eight hundred years after his death, we are all able to enjoy a drive or a walk in the New Forest.
It was in this very forest that the king met his death (1100). He had gone out hunting and did not return. At last his body was found, pierced by an arrow, lying in the thick of the forest. It has never been known for certain whether the king was shot by accident, or whether he was murdered by someone who wished to avenge himself for the cruelties which had been done to those who had been turned out of their homes to make room for the wolves and for the deer. But that William Rufus fell by an arrow in the New Forest is certain.
Westminster Hall. (Ch 15)
"It was the great hall of William Rufus, the hall which had resounded with acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers, the hall where the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment awed and melted a victorious party inflamed with just resentment, the hall where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has half redeemed his fame." -- Macaulay: "Trial of Warren Hastings."
One other relic of the reign of William Rufus has come down to us. Everybody who has been in London knows Westminster Hall. It is the great hall which leads to the Houses of Parliament. It is very famous in our English history. Many important trials have taken place there, and many striking and memorable scenes are connected with it.
Till a few years ago the Courts of Law used to sit in a number of rooms which were built on the right-hand side of the hall. These rooms had been built a long time after the rest of the hall. They were very ugly and very inconvenient, and at last it was decided to pull them down and to make a new place for the Law Courts where they now stand, in the Strand, in London.
When the buildings were pulled down, underneath the walls were found a number of great buttresses, supporting the side of Westminster Hall. The buttresses were very old, and the stone was crumbling. It was plain that they were the very oldest part of the great hall. A clever architect was asked when they had been put up, and he said that they were part of the old wall which had been built by William Rufus. The stone of which the buttresses were made was so worn that it was not possible to leave them in the state in which they had been found. They were therefore strengthened, and covered up with fresh stone. But the shape of the old buttresses was kept, and we can still see them any day if we go down to Westminster. On preceding pages we see pictures of Westminster Hall and of William Rufus's buttresses.
Chapter 16. Henry I. 1100-1135
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Principal events during the during the reign of Henry I: |
Englishmen and Normans. (Ch 16)
"By easy stages we may trace
Our Saxon-Danish-Norman-English race."
When William Rufus was dead, the question arose as to who should succeed him as King of England.
It must be remembered that William the Conqueror had four sons -- Robert, Richard, William, and Henry -- Robert and Henry now remained, after the death of their brothers. Robert was the elder, and ought, by rights, to have become king; but Robert's friends were mostly in Normandy, and Henry's were in England. With the aid of his English friends, Henry seized the crown and proclaimed himself king. He reigned for thirty-five years, and, on the whole, his reign was a good one.
It is not necessary to follow Henry into all the wars which he fought, in England and in Normandy, nor to trouble ourselves about quarrels which are long forgotten. The chief point we have to notice is that during his reign the mixing together of the Normans and the English really began, and that the king himself was foremost to set an example of friendship between his subjects.
We saw in the last chapter how the Norman Conquest had led to a great division in England -- the Norman barons and their French followers on the one hand, and the defeated English on the other. Normans and English kept apart from each other; the Normans despising the Englishmen, and the Englishmen hating and fearing the Normans.
We know well enough that nowadays there is no distinction between Norman and English; they are one people, with one law and one language. The two peoples have become so mixed together that they are now really and truly one.
It was in the time of Henry the First that this mixing together of Normans and English first began. Henry, like William the Conqueror, saw very plainly that if he wanted to become a strong king, and to be able to hold his own against the Norman barons, he must make friends with the English, and look to them for support. In order, therefore, to obtain their goodwill, he decided to do a thing which at once won the hearts of his English subjects. He married Matilda, an English princess.
Who was this Princess Matilda? Let us see if we can trace back her history. In Chapter 13 we read of a prince named Edgar Atheling, the grandson of Edmund Ironside. We saw how the hopes of the English were fixed on him as the last of their royal family, and how, despite the bravery of Hereward, he was at last forced to give in to the Normans. Edgar Atheling had a sister named Margaret, who had married Malcolm, King of Scotland. Malcolm and Margaret had a daughter, and this daughter was Matilda, who was now to become the bride of the Norman king. It was, of course, a great joy to the English that a true English woman, the niece of their own prince, Edgar Atheling, should be raised to the throne. But while the English rejoiced, the Norman barons could not hide their anger when they saw their duke take as his wife one of the people whom they despised, and whom they had so deeply wronged.
It soon became plain that Henry had done wisely in thus choosing his wife. It was no small thing to have won the goodwill of the English. They only wanted leaders, such as William the Conqueror and Henry, to make them some of the best soldiers in Europe.
And this the king's Norman enemies soon found, to their cost. A number of the barons, friends of the king's brother Robert, rose in revolt against the king. Then Henry called to his aid his English subjects, and marching against his enemies, won a complete victory over them. The English, who at last had an opportunity of revenging themselves on their Norman oppressors, fought gladly under the king's banner.
But though Robert's friends were the weaker, Robert himself still kept up the war in Normandy. Henry crossed the Channel, took Robert prisoner, and defeated his army at the battle of Tinchebray (1106). Robert was imprisoned by his brother in Cardiff Castle, and remained in prison for the rest of his life. He died twenty-eight years after the battle of Tinchebray. The capture of Robert allowed Henry to make himself master of Normandy.
We shall remember that Henry had married Matilda. His daughter was called "Matilda," after her mother. While quite young, this little girl was married to Henry the Fifth, Emperor of Germany. Besides his daughter, Henry had also a son named William, of whom he was very fond. He hoped that William would become king after his death; but this was not to be.
"Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore,
Return or aid preventing:
The waters wild went o'er his child,
And he was left lamenting."
-- Campbell: "Lord Ullin's Daughter."
In the year 1120 the king was on his way back from Normandy, accompanied by his son. In one ship sailed the king, in another, called the "White Ship" was William, with a party of his friends. The king's ship started first on her journey, the "White Ship" followed. Her fifty rowers rowed with all their might to overtake the king's vessel. The prince and his companions made merry on board. Suddenly the "White Ship" struck on a rock and began to fill rapidly with water. A boat was lowered, and Prince William was placed in it.
It seemed as if he were saved, but as he left the side of the "White Ship" he heard the cries of his sister Mary, who had been left on board. The prince ordered the boatmen to return; but no sooner was the boat alongside the sinking ship than those on board the wreck sprang into the little boat. In a moment she was upset, and in a few minutes the whole of the gay company who had started that night from Barfleur was overwhelmed in the waves. One man alone, Berauld, a poor butcher, regained the shore.
Soon the news reached the English Court, but for a long time no one dared to tell Henry of his son's death. At last the terrible news was broken to him. The king was overcome with grief; not only did he lament the death of a son whom he dearly loved, but he foresaw that now that he had no longer an heir, there would be no peace after his death. So great was the king's grief, that it is said that after hearing the fatal news, he was never seen to smile again.
Although Henry had no son, we must not forget that he had a daughter, Matilda, who had been married to Henry V. of Germany. The Emperor Henry soon died, and left his young empress a widow. But she did not remain long unmarried, for she soon became the bride of Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. Anjou was a great province in France of which Angers and Tours were the principal towns.
There is not much to be told in this story about Geoffrey of Anjou, but there is one thing which we may remember him by. We often in English history meet with the word "Plantagenet." King Henry II., Richard I., John, and all the kings down to the accession of Henry VII., are spoken of as Plantagenet Kings, or kings of the Plantagenet family. What is the meaning of Plantagenet?
The word is taken from the Latin Planta genista, which means the common "Broom" plant. Most of us know the common broom, with its bright yellow flowers. It happened that Geoffrey of Anjou was accustomed to wear in his helmet as a crest or sign a sprig of yellow broom. From this, people began to call him "Plantagenet," or the Wearer of the Broom. The Empress Matilda married Geoffrey Plantagenet, and their son Henry became Henry II., King of England. And thus it is that Henry II. is known in English history as Henry Plantagenet.
In England it has always been the rule that the eldest son of the king or his children should come to the throne on the death of the king, and that if the king has no son or grandson, but only a daughter, then the daughter shall come to the throne and be queen. It is because of this rule that we have had several Queens of England -- Queen Mary, the great Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Victoria. But in France there was a different rule from that which we have in England. This rule was called the "Salic Law." It prevented a woman from coming to the throne of France, and so there have been no queens of France. As Henry I. had no son, after the death of William his daughter Matilda would have come to the throne after his death according to the English rule.
But England and France were so much bound together at that time that it was not wonderful that many people should have said that the French rule ought to be followed in England, and that there should be no queen. There was one person who was very much in favour of the French rule, and this was Stephen of Blois, the nephew of Henry I. We need not go far to find out what was Stephen's reason for believing that the French rule was the best. If the French rule were followed, Stephen himself would become King of England, and his cousin Matilda would be prevented from coming to the throne.
Soon a fierce quarrel broke out between the friends of Stephen and the friends of Matilda, and the last years of Henry I. were made miserable by the constant quarrels among his relations.
King Henry died (1135) at the age of sixty-seven years, after a reign of thirty-five years. He was a wise king and a learned man, and his learning won for him the name of Beauclerc, or "The Scholar." Unluckily, the times in which he lived were times in which the sword had more power than the pen.
Chapter 17. King Stephen 1135-1154.
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Principal events in the reign of King Stephen: |
A Miserable Reign. (Ch 17)
"On the death of King Henry, who had given peace to the realm and was the father of his people, his loss threw the whole kingdom into trouble and confusion. During his reign the law was purely administered in the seats of justice; but when he was removed, iniquity prevailed and they became the seed-beds of corruption. Thenceforth, England, before the resting-place of right, the habitation of peace, and the mirror of piety, was converted into an abode of malignity, a theatre of strife, and a school of rebellion. The sacred bonds of mutual concord before reverenced by the nation, were rent asunder; the ties of near relationship were dissolved, and the people, long clothed in the garments of peace, clamoured and became frantic for war." -- Acts of King Stephen.
This is going to be a very short chapter, about a reign in which the people of England went through great suffering and misery, a reign which has left very little mark behind it, whether for good or for evil. It is the reign of Stephen, who came to the throne on the death of his uncle, Henry I., in the year 1135, and who reigned nineteen years. During nearly the whole of Stephen's reign there was a fierce war going on in England between Stephen and his friends on the one side, and the Empress Matilda, the daughter of Henry I., on the other side. Sometimes one party gained the day, and sometimes the other; but whatever happened, the unfortunate people of England suffered. The barons built great castles, where they lived safely behind their strong stone walls. From these castles they sallied forth to rob and plunder all those who were defenceless and who were worth robbing.
A terrible description has been given of the state of England at this time. This is what the writer tells us of the cruelties of the savage barons: "They hanged up men by their feet, and smoked them with foul smoke. Some were hanged up by their thumbs, others by the head, and burning things were hung on to their feet . . . They put men into prison where adders, and snakes, and toads were crawling, and so they tormented them." And the barons did many terrible things besides these, about all of which the writer of whom we have spoken tells us in his book. At last the great quarrel between Stephen and Matilda came to an end. A treaty was made at Wallingford (1153). It was agreed that Stephen should be king as long as he lived, and that after his death, Henry, who was Matilda's son, should become king.
There is one more point to be noted with respect to this young Henry, of whom we shall read more in the next chapter. We said that, though Geoffrey of Anjou was not a very important person, we should hear something more of him in this book. Geoffrey, it must be remembered was the second husband of Matilda, and the father of the young Henry.
It was Geoffrey who carried a Sprig of Broom in his helmet, and who got the name of "Plantagenet" He was Geoffrey Plantagenet, and his son Henry was Henry Plantagenet. So we see that there was to be a change in the family from which the Kings of England came. Stephen was of the same family as William the Conqueror. He was his grandson; but when Stephen died his family ended, and another family came in, the family of the Plantagenets, and Henry was the first Plantagenet King. His mother, Matilda, was the granddaughter of William the Conqueror, but his father was a Count of Anjou.
Stephen died in the year 1154, having reigned eighteen years.
Chapter 18. Henry II. 1154-1189
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Principal events during the during the reign of Henry II: |
Canterbury Cathedral. (Ch 18)
". . . . the architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones."
-- Longfellow: "The Golden Legend."
I want my readers to come a short journey with me. We will start from Victoria Station in London, and will take tickets by the express train on the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway. In about an hour and a half the train stops. We are at Canterbury. We alight, and a short walk brings us to the door of the great cathedral of Canterbury, the Metropolitan Church of England.
Let us pause for a moment before we enter, and look at the wonderful building, with its three towers, its graceful windows, and its beautiful carving. It must have been a famous architect who built Canterbury Cathedral. Who was he? Does history tell us anything about him? Yes, certainly it does; and, unfortunately for our pride as Englishmen, history tells us that it was no countryman of ours who planned the greater part of the stately church.
The greater part of the cathedral of Canterbury as we now see it was built in the year 1174. A short time before, there had been a great fire, and part of the old building (for Canterbury Cathedral was old 700 years ago) was burnt to the ground. It was necessary to find a good architect to do the work. At last it was decided to employ a Frenchman, named William, who came from the town of Sens, in the North of France, and who is generally known as William of Sens. Now we know who the architect was and where he came from, we shall not be surprised to learn another thing about the cathedral. Canterbury Cathedral is a most beautiful building, as everyone who has seen it knows; but beautiful though it be, it is not the only church of its kind in the world; there is another like it.
If, instead of stopping at Canterbury station we had gone on in the train to Dover, had crossed over the English Channel to Calais, and had taken the train through the north of France, we should have come, after a long journey, to the town of Sens. There we should see another cathedral, not quite so beautiful, perhaps, as the one at Canterbury, but still very much like it. Many parts of it, indeed, are exactly the same as parts of our English cathedral; the shape of the windows is the same, the carvings are the same. It is plain that either Sens has been copied from Canterbury, or Canterbury from Sens.
Now that we know who it was that planned the chancel of Canterbury Cathedral, we can easily guess that it was Canterbury which was copied from Sens, or, rather, that William of Sens, when he was brought over to work in England, thought the best thing he could do was to repeat at Canterbury the beautiful work he had done in his own country.
Before we go inside the cathedral, let us stop to ask whether there is anything else which we already know about it. We must carry our minds back into the history of England even further than the time of William the Conqueror.
We must go back to the very beginning of our history, to the days when Augustine, the Roman bishop, came into our land, and taught to the Saxon people of Kent the story of Christ. It was to Canterbury that Augustine came, and it was there that, by permission of King Aethelbert, he built the church which was to become the centre of all the Christian churches of England.
From the time of Augustine down to our own day, the city of Canterbury has been the home of the archbishops of the English Church. It is the story of one of the greatest of these archbishops that we are now going to read. And now let us go inside the doors. We walk up the long nave, go up a few steps, and to the left into a little chapel at the side.
Let us stop here for a moment, and if we have a knowledge of English history, and especially of that part of English history which has to do with the cathedral of Canterbury, we shall most certainly give a thought to a terrible event which once took place upon the very spot on which we now stand.
For here, in the very midst of the great cathedral, was committed a savage and dreadful murder, which seven hundred years ago startled all Europe, and which filled the people of England with wonder and alarm.
What is this terrible story? Whose blood was it that was shed here? And who were the men who did this violent deed within the walls of the cathedral itself? That is what we are now going to read.
The King and the Archbishop. (Ch 18)
"Law in his voice and fortune in his hand,
To him the Church, the realm, their powers consign;
Through him the rays of regal bounty shine,
Turned by his nod the stream of honour flows,
His smile alone security bestows:
Still to new heights his restless wishes tower,
Claim leads to claim and power advances power,
Till conquest unresisted ceased to please,
And right submitted, left him none to seize."
-- Johnson: "Vanity of Human Wishes."
When, to the great joy of all men, King Stephen died, there followed him on the throne of England a king whose name ought not to be forgotten by those who read the history of England. This king was Henry II., the son of Matilda, and the cousin of Stephen. He came to the throne in the year 1154, and reigned thirty-five years. He was a man of great courage, wisdom, and strength of mind. Like most other men, he had many good, and at the same time many bad, qualities. His reign was one of great difficulty and trial, and though he was successful in many things, and overcame many of his enemies, he had great disappointments, and died defeated and miserable.
There is not room in this book to tell the whole story of the long reign of Henry II., so we will content ourselves with that part of it which has to do with Canterbury Cathedral and its great archbishop.
But first, let us try to understand what sort of a man King Henry was. Even though he lived so long ago, we can picture him to ourselves, for those who knew him well have left us an account of his appearance which tells us almost as truly as a photograph what the king was like.
A man rather above middle height, square, and solidly built, and rather stout. His head was round and well shapen, his short reddish hair sprinkled with grey. His face was fiery, or, as a more polite writer of his time describes it, "lion-like." His eyes were grey, but often rather bloodshot. He was short-necked and square-chested, his hands were coarse and clumsy. Such was Henry II., as drawn by those who saw him from day to day.
And now we come to the other great personage of his reign. In the year 1118 there was born a child called Thomas Becket, or Thomas A'Becket. Thomas's father was a Norman by birth, and came from the town of Rouen, but he had lived long in England, and had become so good an Englishman, and was so much liked by his neighbours, that he had been made Port Reeve, or, as we should now call it, Mayor, of the City of London.
Thomas soon showed signs that he was a clever boy, and his cleverness won for him the friendship of Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. He became a priest, and was sent by the archbishop on several important journeys to Rome. Soon he attracted the attention of the king, who was struck by his cleverness and by his agreeable character. It was not long before he received from Henry a great mark of his favour, for he was made Chancellor, or Keeper of the King's Seal: an office of great dignity and importance.
Many stories are told of Thomas A'Becket and his life at this time. He lived in great luxury, keeping hundreds of servants and many horses, and rivalling the king himself in the splendour of his house. During this time King Henry and Becket agreed together well enough -- so well, indeed, that King Henry, not content with making his favourite Chancellor, raised him to the still higher office of Archbishop of Canterbury. From that day there came a change, and enmity arose between the king and the archbishop, which only ended in the death of the latter.
In order to understand how it was that King Henry and Thomas A'Becket quarrelled, and how it was that the archbishop came to lose his life as the result of the quarrel, we must try to understand something of what was going on in England at the time in which Henry and Becket lived.
The days of Henry II. were days in which much violence and cruelty were practised by those who were strong against those who were weak. The Norman barons, living in their strong castles and clothed in suits of armour, cared little for the sufferings of the poorer and worse-armed people among whom they lived. The king himself was wiser than the barons. He knew that he would be stronger if he did justice to all, and did not give himself up altogether to the wishes of the barons. He tried, therefore, in many ways to make laws which should do justice to everybody in the kingdom. But though he often wished to do well, it was not always easy even for a good king in such a time to protect the poor and the defenceless.
There was, however, another great power in England beside the king and the barons, which we must know something about if we want to understand rightly the history of England. This power was the power of the Church. It was felt not only in England, but in France, in Germany, in Italy, and in Spain. At the head of the Church was the Pope in Rome, and in England there were the archbishops, the bishops, and the clergy in all parts of the country.
In many ways the Church was very different then from what it is now. It was the Churchmen * who alone opened schools, who taught people how to read and write; and, indeed, there were very few except the clergy who could read or write at all. All over England there were great abbeys and monasteries, in which there lived priests, monks, and nuns. In these abbeys and monasteries books were to be found and teaching was to be got.
[* It should be understood that in the time of Henry II. a "Churchman" meant not only a priest or clergyman, but anyone who was in any way in the service of the Church. Monks, clerks, teachers, and often the servants of a church or monastery, were called "Churchmen," and had the right to be tried in the bishop's Court. The fact that a man could read and write was often held to be proof that he was a Churchman. We must remember these things in order that we may understand what is said in this chapter.]
Nor was this all. In many of the churches there was a place called a Sanctuary, to which anyone who was in danger of his life might fly, and in which he was safe from harm. At a time when so much injustice was done, and when so many cruel men used their power to injure the weak and defenceless, it was a great thing to have places to which those who were persecuted could go, and in which they could be safe. In an age, too, when there was so much ignorance, it was a good thing that there should be men who could teach reading and writing, and who could prevent the learning of all the wise men who had gone before from being forgotten.
And last of all, but most important of all, it was a good thing that in the midst of so much violence and cruelty there should be men and women who tried to teach the difference between right and wrong, between good and evil, and who kept England a Christian land. It is not wonderful, therefore, that when the Churchmen did all these things, they should be looked upon with favour and treated with honour.
But, unluckily, it often happens that too much good fortune spoils men. The clergy became so great and so powerful that many of them forgot that it was their duty to help and protect the poor against the strong. And not only did the clergy get strong, but they soon got very rich, and many of the abbeys and monasteries had lands of great extent; and thus it happened that in the time of Henry II. the Church of England did both harm and good. When it protected the poor, taught those who were ignorant, and set an example of a holy life, it did good. When it joined with the king and the barons to try to get riches and power, or when it tried to get power for itself, it did harm.
The Quarrel. (Ch 18)
"Ye take too much upon you, ye sons of Levi." -- Numbers xvi. 7.
And now we come back to the day on which Henry II. made Thomas A'Becket Archbishop of Canterbury, and put him at the head of the Church we have been talking about. We have seen that while he was Chancellor, Becket was gay and fond of pleasure, a friend of the king, and ready to share with him in all his sports. But from the very day on which Becket was made Archbishop of Canterbury it seemed as if a change had come over him. From that day he gave up all his time to trying to strengthen the Church, to give it more power, and to make it free from all interference, on the part either of the king or of the barons.
It was not long before the new archbishop and the king found cause for a quarrel. The Church at that time claimed that all clergymen, and everybody who was connected with the Church in any way, should only be tried, in case they committed offences, by judges belonging to the Church. They said that the king's Courts, in which persons who had committed crimes were usually tried, had no power over those who belonged to the Church, and that the king's judges had no right to try Churchmen. Now, it is easy to see that there was sure to be a quarrel before long over this claim made by the Church to set up its own judges, and to have its own courts of justice.
We saw that Henry was doing his best to improve the Courts of Justice in England, and to appoint Judges who would do justice to all alike. When the king's Courts decided against any man who was accused of a crime, they were able to punish him. And so also when two persons who had a dispute came before the king's Courts to have their case tried, the one who was declared to be in the right was able to make the other give up his claim, and do what the Court said was just.
But when King Henry found that Becket would not allow Churchmen to be tried by the judges, he was angry; for he said that every man, rich or poor, Churchman or not, ought to be equal in the king's Courts and obey the order of the judges. Becket, on his side, would not give way, and refused to allow Churchmen to go into the king's Courts.
There was also another cause of quarrel between the king and the archbishop. Many of the bishops and other clergy had great quantities of land. We read in Chapter 14 that in feudal times every man who had land had to "do homage for it." Henry said that the Churchmen ought to do "homage" to him for their land; Becket said that they should not do so. Then Henry called together a meeting of the barons, and he made a set of rules or laws. The place at which the meeting of the barons was held was called Clarendon, and the rules that were made there were known as "The Constitutions of Clarendon" (1164). One of these rules was that Churchmen should be tried in the king's Courts when they had committed crimes. Another was that all Churchmen should do homage to the king for their lands.
It is not easy now, so long after these things happened, to say whether Henry or Becket was in the right. In those days things were very different from what they are now. The judges whom the king appointed were not always just, nor did they always know the law. Sometimes, no doubt, justice was better done in the courts in which the bishops were the judges than in the king's Courts. Besides, it must be remembered that it was no new thing for which Becket fought, for at the time in which he lived the courts held by the Church were to be found in every country in Europe, and in every country Churchmen had the right to be tried and condemned only by Churchmen.
Of course, in our own time it would be quite wrong for Churchmen to refuse to be judged in the same courts as other people. In our own time, happily, the judges are just; they know the law, and they do justice equally to all men, rich or poor, whether they be Churchmen or whether they be not. If we can find excuses for Thomas A' Becket, we certainly ought not to blame Henry because he tried to make all people equal before the law.
But though it may be doubtful whether Henry or Becket was most in the right, one thing is certain, and that is that the king and the archbishop soon quarrelled with one another. In his anger, the king banished Becket from the land. The archbishop fled to the town of Sens, in Normandy. [It was here that Becket met with William of Sens, who, we saw, came over to England, and rebuilt a great part of the cathedral of Canterbury, in imitation of his own cathedral at Sens.]
After a time Henry and Becket became friends again, and Henry gave Becket leave to return to England. Becket crossed over, leaving Henry behind in France. When the archbishop came to Canterbury, thousands of people came out to welcome him back. The poor people looked upon him as their friend and protector against the barons. When Henry heard of the way in which Becket had been welcomed back, he flew into a great rage. He could not bear that a man who had been his enemy, and who had dared to disobey him, should be so beloved.
In his anger, Henry broke out into wild, hasty words. His eyes flamed and his face grew pale with passion. "What!" cried he, "a fellow that has eaten my bread has lifted up his heel against me -- a fellow that I loaded with benefits, dares insult the king and the whole royal family, and tramples on the whole kingdom -- a fellow that came to Court on a lame horse, with a cloak for a saddle, sits on the throne itself, and no man interferes? What sluggard wretches!" he cried, "what cowards have I brought up in my Court, who care nothing for their duty to their master! Not one will deliver me from this low-born priest!"
We cannot tell whether the king really wished that someone should take him at his word. We sometimes make hasty speeches and say things which we hope others will act upon, though we dare not act upon them ourselves; and then, when others have done the harm which we wished, but were afraid to do, we try to pretend to ourselves that it is not we who are to blame. And so, perhaps, when Henry, in his anger, cried out, "Not one will deliver me from this low-born priest!" he half hoped that some of those who stood by would take him at his word, and commit a crime which he was ashamed and afraid to commit himself.
It happened that there stood among the king's courtiers four knights -- Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, Richard le Bret, Reginald Fitzurse. * The four knights overheard the king's words, and it was not long before they had formed a cruel plot to murder Becket, and thus to "deliver" the king from the "low-born priest."
[Fitzurse means "Son of the Bear," a name which well suited the savage Norman knight to whom it belonged. The English home of the Fitzurses is called to this day Bear-ham, or the village of the Bears. Some of the Fitzurses crossed into Ireland, and there their name took an Irish form, and they became the founders of the well-known family of the MacMahons -- MacMahon meaning in Irish exactly the same as Fitzurse in Norman: viz., "the Son of the Bear."]
Two reasons joined together to urge them to commit this crime. In the first place, no doubt they loved the king a little, for he was their lord, and they depended upon his favour. In the second place, they hated Becket far more than they loved the king. When he had been Chancellor, Thomas had despised the fierce barons, and had enjoyed the favour of the king. Since he became archbishop he had made many of the barons give up the lands which they had taken from the Church, and he had often helped those whom the barons had oppressed.
And so it happened that the hasty words of King Henry had fallen into the hearts of men who wanted no persuading to kill the king's enemy. Mounting their horses, the four knights rode off at full speed to the sea-coast. There they took ship across the Channel, and on a cold dreary day at the end of December, 1170, they came within sight of the three great towers of Canterbury Cathedral.
We now come to the story of the terrible deed which they did on that wintry day within the walls of the great cathedral.
The Murder. (Ch 18)
"Where is the Archbishop, Thomas Becket?"
"Here. No traitor to the King, but Priest of God,
Private of England. I am he ye seek.
What would ye have of me?"
"Your life."
-- Tennyson: "Becket."
It was late in the evening of the 29th December, when the winter's night was already setting in, that the dwellers in the archbishop's palace were suddenly alarmed. A crash was heard as the wooden door of the orchard outside was broken down, and soon it was known by all that the archbishop's enemies were outside, longing to get in, and to take the life of the man whom they hated.
Many of the monks who surrounded Becket fled like cowards at the approach of danger. Some few stood by their master, and did all they could to get him to take refuge in the cathedral. Within its walls they thought he would be safe. But, great as the danger was, Becket scorned to fly. He walked calmly along the passage which led into the cathedral. Before him walked an attendant bearing the cross, which was always carried before the archbishop.
At last, however, the frightened monks could no longer bear the slow pace at which the archbishop advanced, and they half-dragged and half-carried him into the cathedral. They shut the door and turned the key. Soon cries were heard outside. It was the four knights and their friends, who were driving before them the friends of the archbishop, and who were seeking to find their way into the cathedral.
When Becket heard the cries of his own friends outside, he bade those who were with him throw open the door, in order that those who were in danger might escape from the fury of the knights. But this brave act cost the archbishop his life. No sooner had the door been thrown open than Fitzurse and his companions rushed in.
Then all but the bravest fled from the archbishop's side, and he was left alone with but three faithful friends: Robert of Merton, his old teacher; William FitzStephen, his chaplain; and Edward Grim, a Saxon monk. With these three Becket reached the little chapel on the left-hand side of the cathedral, of which we read at the beginning of this chapter, and there the four murderers found him.
It was nearly dark, and at first the knights could not see Becket. "Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the king?" cried one of them. Then Fitzurse exclaimed, "Where is the archbishop?" Becket knew the voice. "Reginald, here am," said he: "no traitor, but the archbishop and the priest of God. What do you wish?" As he said these words he advanced towards Fitzurse, who sprang back.
The four knights then began to upbraid Becket, and to bid him undo the harm that he had done. "I cannot do other than I have done," replied the archbishop. "Reginald, you have received many favours at my hands; why do you come armed into my church?" For answer, Fitzurse placed his axe against Becket's breast, saying, "You shall die!"
Another of the knights struck him with the flat of his sword, and told him to fly, or he was a dead man." I am ready to die for God and the Church," was the archbishop's answer. Then the knights fell upon him, and tried to drag him outside, for they feared to kill him in the church. But Becket was a strong man, and resisted their efforts.
There was a fierce struggle, and at last Fitzurse, mad with passion, cried out, "Strike! Strike!"
Then Becket saw that death was near, Fitzurse struck off his cap. Tracy aimed a blow at him with his sword, and wounded the brave Grim, who strove to defend his master. The same blow which struck down Grim wounded Becket, and the blood began to flow. Then the knights attacked him fiercely with their swords, and he fell dying on the floor of the chapel. A last blow on the head put an end to Becket's sufferings, and the murder was completed.
The four murderers ran hastily out of the cathedral, and after plundering the archbishop's house rode off unharmed.
Thus died Thomas A' Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, within the walls of his own cathedral. What became of the murderers is not certain. Some say that they went on a voyage to Jerusalem to do penance for their sins. Others say that they all of them died by some shameful death. But it seems as if they were really received back into favour again by the king, and that they were never punished for the crime they had committed.
What Henry thought of the cruel murder of his enemy remains to be told. The news was brought to him in France, and he received it with every sign of the deepest sorrow. Whether or not he really wished that Becket should be killed we do not know, but now that he was dead the king was overcome with remorse.
As a sign of his grief, he went to do penance at Canterbury. Barefooted, and without his royal robes, he walked to the cathedral, attended by a crowd of bishops and monks, with whom were many of his own courtiers. Kneeling before the tomb of Becket, he bade each of the bishops scourge him on his bare shoulders. Then throwing himself down upon the tomb, he lay there all night without food.
Such is the story of Henry and Becket. It is a story which should be remembered, because it shows how great a power the Church was in the early days of our history, and how even the strongest kings sometimes found their match among the archbishops and bishops of the Church.
The Pope's Gift. (Ch 18)
"Adrian the bishop, the servant of the servants of God, to His most dear Son in Christ, the noble king of England, sendeth greeting and apostolick benediction . . . we do grant that you do enter to possess that land, [Ireland] and there to execute according to your wisdom whatsoever shall be for the honour of God, and the safety of the realm.
"And further also do we strictly charge and require, that all the people of that land do with all humbleness, dutifulness, and honour, receive and accept you as their liege Lord and Sovereign."
-- From the Bull of Pope Adrian IV. to Henry II.
One or two other things which happened in the reign of Henry II. must not be forgotten. Henry was successful in his wars in Wales, in Scotland, and in Ireland. He defeated the Scots, and William the Lion, the Scottish king, was taken prisoner while leading an army into England.
Ireland was at this time divided among many kings and chieftains and its people were split up into numberless tribes, who were always fighting one against the other, and constantly plundering each other's lands. Henry thought that the time had come to make himself master of Ireland in fact as well as in name, for even before his time the Kings of England had claimed to be Lords of Ireland. He therefore gave leave to some of the Norman barons to conquer Ireland for him. He found help in a strange quarter. The Pope, who at that time was supposed to have the right to give away lands that were not under any regular king, wrote a paper, or "Bull," as it was called, in which he "gave" Ireland to Henry.
The Norman knights, under Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, landed at Waterford, in the south-east corner of Ireland, and made themselves masters of a large part of the country near the coast. From that time forward the English power increased in Ireland, and the Kings of England were known as Lords of Ireland. It was not, however, till many years later that the whole island submitted to English rule.
Although Henry had been great and powerful during his reign, and though he had been victorious in so many wars, his life ended in misery and defeat. His enemies in France took up arms against him, and when he hurried over to lead his armies he found that among his enemies was his own son, John. The defeat of his army and the treachery of his son broke down the old king's spirit, and he died an unhappy death at Chinon, in France, in the year 1189, and the 56th year of his age.
Chapter 19. Richard Coeur De Lion 1189-1199
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Principal events in the reign of Richard I: |
The Crescent and the Cross. (Ch 19)
"Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart
And fought the holy wars in Palestine."
-- Shakespeare: "King John."
The next two chapters give an account of two brothers: Richard and John. Both brothers are remembered in English history, but for very different reasons. There was, indeed, a great difference in their characters and their lives.
Richard spent nearly all his reign outside England; John stayed in England. Richard was famous for his generosity, for the victories which he won over foreign enemies, and for his bravery in war. John, though, no doubt, also a brave man, is remembered as a cruel and unwise king, who was defeated in his own country by his own people. And yet it is true to say that we who are alive now owe more to John's defeats than to Richard's victories.
Richard was the first King of England of that name; he is therefore known as Richard I. He is also known by another name, which those who lived in his time gave him, and by which he is still called to this day. His friends and enemies were agreed in calling him Richard Coeur de Lion. "Coeur" is the French word for "heart," and Richard Coeur de Lion means "Richard of the Lion Heart," or "The Lion-hearted." We may ask why a King of England should have a French name, but we shall cease to wonder when we understand that Richard was really just as much a Frenchman as he was an Englishman.
It will be remembered how the Dukes of Normandy became Kings of England, and how after the time of Stephen the Princes of Anjou reigned in their stead. Now, as we all know, both Normandy and Anjou are in France, and the Norman and Angevin l kings were really quite as much French as they were English. They had lands and castles in France as well as iii England, and they probably talked French much more easily than they talked English. We can therefore understand why Richard came to be called "Coeur de Lion" instead of "The Lion-hearted."
Richard was a man of very great strength, bold as a lion, and a terrible enemy to meet in battle as he rode on his great warhorse, clad in armour, and swinging his battle-axe round his head. He loved nothing so much as war and fighting, and he lived at a time when everyone who was fond of fighting could easily get as much as he wanted. But most of the fighting which Richard did was done far away from England, and brought little profit to our country. How was it that a King of England came to be fighting so far away from his own land? This is how it befell.
It happened that two years before Richard I. came to the throne, the country which we know as Palestine, or the Holy Land, had been invaded and taken by the Turks. The Turks were not Christians, but believed in a man called Mahomed, who they said was the Prophet of God. From the name of Mahomed they took the name of Mahometans, and at the time of which we are speaking they were a very great and warlike people. Wherever they met the Christians, they fought against them, and when they were victorious they took the lands of the Christians, and made those they conquered declare that they believed in Mahomed instead of in Christ. Those who refused they either put to death or made slaves of.
We have learnt that the Turks had taken Palestine, and, as we all know, the capital of Palestine is Jerusalem, the city built by David, and in which Jesus Christ was crucified. It is not hard to understand that Christian people were sorry when they saw the city of Jerusalem fall into the hands of the Turks, and there were many of them who were determined that the Turks should be turned out of it if possible, and that the Christians should be put back there again. But this was more easily said than done, for the Turks were a brave and warlike people, and for a long time it seemed more likely that they would conquer the Christian people of Europe than that the Christians would conquer them.
The Crusade. (Ch 19)
"High deeds achieved of knightly fame,
From Palestine the champion came;
The Cross upon his shoulder borne,
Battle and blast hath dimmed and torn.
Each dint upon his battered shield
Was token of a foughten field."
-- Scott
Already the Christians had tried their best to beat the Turks. In the year 1094, nearly one hundred years before Richard became king, and long before the Moslems had re-taken Jerusalem, there appeared in Europe a man who not only had made up his mind that the Turks should be turned out of the Holy Land, but that he himself would be the first to lead on the Christians to the fight.
The name of this person deserves to be remembered. He was called Peter. He was one of those priests who at that time were known as "Hermits"; that is to say, he lived apart from all men in a solitary dwelling, and gave himself up to prayer and reflection. For this reason he is known in history as "Peter the Hermit."
It was in the year 1095, in the reign of William Rufus, King of England, that Peter the Hermit first called upon the kings and princes and peoples of Christian Europe to give up all their work and all their pleasure, and if need be their lives, to the task of beating the Turks and defending Jerusalem. He went about from place to place, preaching and exhorting the people to follow him. In his hand he bore a cross, and he bade all those whom he addressed prepare to leave all they had and fight for the cause of the Cross, which was the sign of the Christian religion.
It is for this reason that we speak of Peter the Hermit as being the first to preach a "Cross-ade" or, as we usually call it, a "Crusade"; that is to say, a war on behalf of the Cross. * In all parts of Europe the people responded to the call of Peter the Hermit, and rich and poor, high and low, armed themselves, and made ready to sail eastwards to the Holy Land, to fight for the cause of the Cross and for the recapture of the Holy Land.
[The Cross was the sign of the Christians, and all who went on the Crusade wore a cross on their flag, on their shield, or on their breast. On the other hand, the Mohamedans had for their sign the Crescent, such as we see nowadays upon the flag of Turkey. The wars of the Crusade are, therefore, sometimes spoken of as the "Wars of the Crescent and the Cross."]
No doubt the reasons which moved the minds of the Crusaders were very various. Some went because they loved adventure and fighting; others went in the hope of obtaining power or plunder; and lastly, there were very many who truly believed that in thus fighting against the Turk they were serving the cause of Christianity, and doing a right action. Of such we must speak with respect; for whether we think they took a wise course or not in thus going forth to fight on behalf of the cause in which they believed, we must at least admit that they risked their lives and their fortunes and gave up their comfort to fight for what they believed to be right.
The kings and princes of Europe were foremost to join the ranks of the Crusaders, and for the first time, princes who had been engaged in long rivalry at home were seen fighting side by side against a common enemy. Among the kings who came forward as leaders of the Crusade, none was more famous or more active than Richard of England. The adventure and the danger which accompanied this war, fought in a strange country against an Eastern enemy, were just what his bold spirit loved.
The history of Richard's valiant deeds in Palestine, of the great battle which he fought at Jaffa, of his attack upon Jerusalem, and of his quarrels with his companions, the King of France and the Archduke of Austria, may be read in any history of England. Perhaps the pleasantest way of learning something about them is to take up Sir Walter Scott's great novel, "The Talisman." It is a most delightful book, and no one can read the stories of Richard, of Saladin the Sultan of the Turks, of Edith Plantagenet, of Berengaria, Richard's wife, of Kenneth of Scotland, and of the crafty Duke of Austria, without pleasure.
But we need not give up much time to following Richard in his far-off Eastern battles, for the victories which he won and the courage which he showed, are not of much importance to the history and progress of the English people. What is really important to notice is not what Richard did when he was away from England, but what those whom he had left behind in England did during his absence. So occupied was the king with the Crusades, and so frequently was he engaged in fighting battles in France to preserve his French dominions, that the time which he spent in England was very short indeed.
It is an old proverb which says, "When the cat's away the mice will play"; and there is no doubt that when the strong hand of the king was taken away, the nobles and barons whom he had left behind found a good opportunity for strengthening themselves and preparing for a struggle against the king himself. We shall see in the next chapter what use the nobles and barons made of the power which they got into their hands, and we shall then have no difficulty in understanding how it was that King Richard's love of adventure, and his distant expeditions, did really make a great difference to the history of England, and to us who now live in the country.
It seems at first sight as if the battles fought by Richard Coeur de Lion under the walls of Jerusalem have little to do with the lives of those who read this book at the present day; but when we come to read the story of Magna Charta, to understand what it was, and how it was obtained, we shall then see that the two things have more to do with one another than we supposed.
On his way back from Palestine, Richard passed through the country of his enemy, Leopold, Archduke of Austria. By an act of treachery, which even in those rough times was condemned by all men, Richard was seized by order of the duke and thrown into prison. For twelve months he lay in prison, and it was long before his friends in England even knew where he was.
The story is that his whereabouts were discovered by his old friend and companion, the musician Blondel, who, roaming through Europe in search of his master, sat down under the wall of an unknown castle, and touching his harp, sang a tune which he remembered as being a favourite one with his royal master. Richard, from his prison, hearing the familiar air, recognised his friend and played an answering note. Blondel took the news back with him to England, and in course of time a ransom was paid, and Richard was restored to his country and his throne.
But his restless spirit would not allow him to remain long at ease. He started off again to France to fight against Philip, who threatened his Norman possessions there. While besieging the castle of Chaluz he was struck by an arrow from the bow of a soldier named Bertrand.
As he lay in his tent dying, the king was informed that the castle had fallen, and that Bertrand had been taken prisoner. The unhappy archer was brought before the king, trembling for his life, but Richard, with the generosity which was perhaps the best part of his nature, forgave the man to whom he owed his death, and ordered that his life should be spared. Unfortunately, those who served the king were not as kind as their master, and Bertrand was cruelly put to death. But the incident should be remembered, as one that does credit to the king.
Chapter 20. John -- The History of the Charters. 1199-1216.
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Principal events during the during the reign of John: |
John and Arthur. (Ch 20)
KING JOHN -- "Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?
Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?
Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but thou had'st none to kill him.
HUBERT -- No had, my lord! Why, did you not provoke me?
KING JOHN -- It is the curse of kings, to be attended
By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant."
-- Shakespeare: "King John."
When the news of King Richard's death reached England there were confusion and disorder on every side. There were two claimants to the throne. One was strong and the other was weak. Right was on the side of the weak, but, as too often happens, Might was on the side of the wrong. The law by which the Kings of England succeeded to the throne was the same then as it is now: the eldest son came first, then his children if he had any. If the eldest son had no children, then the second son succeeded, and the second son's children. After the second son and his children came the third son. It was only when neither the eldest nor the second nor the third son had children that the fourth son could lawfully come to the throne.
Now let us remember how things stood at this time. Henry II., of whom we read in Chapter 18, was the father of Richard I. Henry had four sons. Henry, the eldest, was dead and had left no children. Richard I. was the second; he had become king and was now dead: he also left no children. The third was Geoffrey, who had married Constance of Brittany. He too was dead, but had left a son, named Arthur, Duke of Brittany, who, at the time of Richard's death, was only a boy of eleven. By the law and custom of England, Arthur should have become King of England on the death of his uncle Richard.
But we saw that Henry II. had four sons. The youngest of these was John, a cruel, hard, clever man, who could not bear to see the throne of England go to a boy, and he made up his mind that, if he could prevent it, that boy should never sit on the throne of England. So it is not hard to see how, when the news of Richard's death reached England, there were all the makings of a quarrel. On the one hand were the friends of Arthur, who was king by "right," on the other were the friends of John, who were determined that he, and not Arthur, should be king by "might."
The story of the death of Arthur is a melancholy one. Those of us who have read Shakespeare's great play of King John will remember how John, the cruel uncle, threw his nephew into prison, how he sent one of his followers, Hubert by name, to burn out the boy's eyes, and how Hubert, touched by the boy's pleadings, refused to obey the cruel order of the king. How John, fearing the anger of the English, took Arthur away, and shut him up in a French prison, and there, as it was believed, slew him with his own hand.
There is a proverb that "ill-gotten gains never prosper"; and even at a time when fighting never ceased, and when murder was common, John's violence and lawlessness had made him many enemies. Many of the barons, who, during Richard's long absence, had strengthened themselves, had built strong castles, and had got together small armies of followers, now appeared in arms against the king.
Nor were the barons without friends among the people. King John, a cruel and rapacious man, made enemies both among the rich and among the poor. From the barons and nobles he took large sums of money, and tried to deprive them of their lands and their rights. The poor he treated with cruel injustice, and those who had money he robbed without mercy, in order to fill his own coffers. John thus united against him the hatred of all classes among the people, and it soon became clear that there was to be a trial of strength between him and his many enemies, in which one side or the other must be beaten.
What Charters were, and How They were Won. (Ch 20)
"Litera scripta manet." [A Latin maxim meaning "The written word endureth."]
Now that we know who King John was, and when he lived, it is time to turn our attention to the great event which happened in his reign, and on account of which the name of King John will always be remembered. The great event I speak of is the signing of Magna Charta. Most of us have heard the words "Magna Charta," but to hear words used is not always the same thing as to understand what they mean. Let us inquire, therefore, first, what the words mean; and secondly, what is the thing which they describe.
"Magna" and "Charta" are both of them Latin words. "Magna" means "great," and "Charta" (sometimes written "Carta") means a "Charter," or written statement of rights. The particular Charta of which we are speaking is called the "Great Charter," because, though there were many other charters in English history, this one is the greatest and most important.
We may ask, why should a Latin name be used? The answer is that at the time when the Great Charter was made, or granted, by King John, all important writings were in Latin. The Bible used by the clergy was in Latin; the histories and chronicles which were written by the monks were in Latin; and all the laws of the country were in Latin.
Very few people in the time of King John could read or write at all, but those who could read and write all learnt Latin. This was a great convenience in some ways, for Englishmen, Frenchmen, Italians, and Germans, who were quite unable to understand each other's languages, could always talk or write in Latin, and thus make themselves understood in any country.
Now that we know what the words Magna Charta mean, it is time to ask what the Charta was, how it came to be granted in the time of King John, and why it is that Englishmen have always given it so important a place in the history of their country. To understand these things we must go back to the story of King John; and, indeed, we must go back even further than the time of King John, to the reigns of the kings who preceded him.
It will be remembered that in an earlier portion of this book, we learnt how William the Conqueror made himself master of all the land of England, and how he gave part of it to his own followers as a reward for their services. We saw, too, how, in order to keep down the powerful nobles, by whom his authority was threatened, he called upon the conquered English to help him against the barons. The English did help him, and so strong were the king and the people together, that the king, with the aid of the English, soon got the upper hand, and became master of the barons.
The next thing we saw was that first William the Conqueror, then William Rufus, his son, and in turn all the other kings who came after them, led their armies into France or Scotland or Wales, and fought battles against the French, the Scots, and the Welsh. In order that they might fight these battles, two things were needed money and soldiers. By the custom of the time, and by what was called the Feudal Law, the king had the right to call upon his nobles to follow him to war, and to bring a certain number of soldiers with them. He also had the right to demand the payment of fixed sums of money by the barons. In the same way he had the right to take money from the citizens of the towns, and to call upon each town to send a fixed number of soldiers.
But it is not hard to understand that at a time when laws and customs were often disregarded, and might was often more powerful than right, there were many disagreements between the king and those who were called upon to furnish men and money. The wars in France, and the Crusades in Palestine, soon swallowed up all the men and all the money, and then the king had to find a way of getting more. If the king were very strong, and the nobles or the citizens from whom he wished to get men or money were weak, then the plan was simple enough. The king said what he wanted, and if it were not given to him he took it, and punished those who dared to refuse him.
But sometimes it happened that the king was not strong enough to take what he wanted by force, and then he had to bargain. For instance, if he demanded men and money from some powerful baron who was strong enough to keep what he had got, and to hold his castle against the king's troops, the king had to make some promise of future favours to induce his unruly subject to do what he desired.
One of the commonest ways in which the barons took advantage of the king's needs was as follows. The king's promise was written down on parchment, and the Charter, or written record of his promise, was kept as a proof to all people that the rights which were mentioned in it had really been granted.
The same thing happened in the cities and towns, especially as they grew rich and populous. The king wanted money or men, the town had both money and men, but was in no hurry to give them away. "I want the aid of my loyal citizens," wrote the king. "Your loyal citizens will be quite ready to give you the aid you desire, but --"; and then the citizens, through their mayors or sheriffs, used generally to say that if the king would be pleased to give them the right to build a bridge, and take a toll from all the king's subjects who crossed over it; or if the king would allow them for ever afterwards to appoint their own judges and try their own disputes without any interference from the king and his successors, then they, the citizens, would be very happy to give the king what he wanted.
Perhaps, if the king were strong enough to take what he required, he marched a troop of soldiers into the town, threw the mayor and the chief citizens into prison, for daring to try to make a bargain with him, and kept them in prison till the money was paid and the men were provided.
But there were often reasons why the king thought a bargain the shortest way of getting what he wanted. He had already, perhaps, many enemies, and did not want to make more. It was easy to make promises for the future so long as he got what he wanted at the moment; and, besides, it was always easy to make a present of what really belonged to someone else. And so in many cases the bargain was struck, and the terms of the bargain were written down in a charter, which was duly signed and sealed, and kept among the city records.
Thus in the time of King John, the town of Nottingham agreed to pay a large sum of money every year for the right to appoint and elect its own Port-Reeve or Mayor, and its own magistrates, and in the time of Henry II. the town paid some more money to the king, who promised that in return all the citizens of Nottingham should be free to buy and sell in any market in England.
This was a great advantage, for, as a rule, those who had goods to sell in a market were made to pay a tax or toll before they were allowed to sell anything. The promises which were made to the people of Nottingham by William the Conqueror and Henry II. were written down on parchment and sealed with the king's seal, and these very parchments are still kept among the charters of Nottingham.
There are many of these ancient charters preserved to the present day, and they may be seen in the great public libraries in London, Oxford, and other places; and also in the British Museum in London. The City of London became at a very early date in our history the most powerful and important of English cities, and the citizens of London were among the first to use their power and their riches to obtain charters from the king. Each new charter which they received made them stronger than before, and enabled them to get better terms from each king in turn.
But it is easy to understand that in such troubled and warlike times as the days of William the Conqueror, Henry II., and John, a parchment writing, however carefully signed and sealed, was not always a certain protection.
It was easy for kings to make promises when they were weak; it was almost equally easy for them to break them when they became strong again. And so it often befell. Time after time we find that the kings broke faith, and failed to keep the promises which they had made, and which were written down in the charters. Then the struggle had to begin over again, and be continued until the king was compelled to "confirm" the charter, or to grant a new one in its stead.
The Sealing of the Great Charter. (Ch 20)
"Magna Charta was signed by John,
Which Henry the Third put his seal upon."
Old Rhyme.
We saw how the Norman kings with the help of the conquered English, had got the better of the barons. No sooner had they done so than they began to demand from the barons men and money beyond what the feudal laws and customs allowed them to take. When the barons were weak, as in the time of William the Conqueror and William Rufus, they gave what they were asked for. When, in their turn, the barons became strong and the king weak, they either refused the aid altogether, or gave it on condition of their receiving something in return.
As early as the reign of Henry I. we read of a charter being given by the king to the barons and people. King Stephen was also obliged to grant a charter which was full of promises which he had very little intention of ever performing. We have already seen that Henry II., who came after Stephen, was a great and powerful king, and, having the English on his side, he soon became more than a match for the barons. Indeed, the king had by that time become so powerful that neither the barons nor the people alone could resist his will successfully.
At last the barons saw that if they were to stand against the king at all, they must follow the example which William the Conqueror had been the first to set, and must get the people to join with them. As long as they fought only for themselves and for their own advantage, no one was likely to help them, and they were at the mercy of the king. But they soon saw that, by joining their own cause with that of all the people, they would be able to win success.
It was in the reign of King John that the barons thought the time had come for standing up once for all for their rights. It was not wonderful that they should think so. In the first place, John was a violent and cruel man, always ready to take by force what he could not obtain fairly. In the second place, John was engaged in quarrels both at home and abroad.
Abroad he had begun a war against the King of France. At home he had quarrelled with the clergy; and, in order to carry on his wars, he had made great demands upon the barons, and upon the people, for money and men. What he could not get as a gift he took by force, paying no attention to the rights of his subjects, nor to the promises which had been made by his father and his greatgrandfather.
It is easy to understand why John made many enemies. The Clergy hated him because he refused to obey the orders of the Church, and because he brought in foreign priests whom he set over the heads of the English clergy. The Barons hated him because he took their lands, broke the promises made in their charters, and brought in foreigners to whom he gave some of the richest lands in the, kingdom. The People hated him because he robbed them of their money, treated them with cruelty, and broke the laws.
At last the king's enemies would submit no longer, and they joined together in arms to fight against him. The barons met at Brackley in Northamptonshire (1215). At their head were Fitz Walter, William Marshall, and Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, the wisest and most famous of them all. They sent a message to the king, and told him plainly that they would no longer allow him to break the law and to overlook their rights. They threatened that, unless he would give a solemn promise in writing to observe their rights in the future, they would make war upon him and drive him from the throne.
The barons were wise enough to get all the help they could against the king. Many nobles from all parts of England joined them, and the Mayor and citizens of London sent word to them to say that the Londoners were on their side. The messengers found John at Oxford; they came before him and told him what were the demands they had been ordered to make. "These are our claims" said they, "and if they are not instantly granted, our arms shall do us justice." The fury of the king was terrible. "And why do they not demand my crown also?" cried he. "I will not," he continued, with a great oath, "I will not grant them liberties which will make me a slave."
But the barons were not to be terrified, or driven from their purpose. They at once declared themselves to be "the army of God and His Holy Church," and sent to all parts of the kingdom to call people to their aid. First there came a message in reply from London, saying that the Mayor and citizens were on the side of the barons, and then from all parts there poured in lords and knights, and friends of every degree. It is said that only seven knights remained with the king. Then John saw that, for the time at any rate, he could not resist, and he therefore agreed to meet the barons.
The meeting took place in a field by the side of the river Thames, not far from Windsor. The king came from Windsor, the barons from Staines. If we take a boat and row down the river from Windsor, we shall come to a broad meadow, about three miles from Windsor Bridge. It has a name which is very famous in English history; it is called Runnymede. It was at Runnymede that the Great Charter was agreed to by King John in the presence of the barons. (June 15, 1215.)
And now it may be asked, Why has this long chapter been given up to the story of Magna Charta, and of the other charters which went before it? What is this Great Charter, and why is it so famous?
The answer to the first part of the question is, that if we have carefully read and properly understood all that has been said in this chapter, we shall understand how most of the laws and liberties of England were obtained in the early part of our history. What the Great Charter was, and why it is so famous, we shall see in the next chapter.
Chapter 21. What the Great Charter Did for Englishmen.
An Englishman's Rights.
"Only law can give us freedom." -- Goethe.
Magna Charta, which was sealed by King John and the Barons at Runnymede on the 15th June, 1215, is a long paper or parchment containing Forty-nine Articles or divisions [afterwards increased to sixty-three.]. At the foot of the parchment are the seals of the king and of the barons.
We know exactly what Magna Charta was like, for we can actually see a copy of it at this very day at the British Museum. There were probably several copies made, and this is one of them. The Charter was written in Latin, as almost all laws and charters were at that time. It contained, as we have already learnt, forty-nine clauses or paragraphs.
Of these forty-nine clauses, only a very few are of much interest to us nowadays. The reason for this is easy to understand. The barons who made King John sign the Charter, did not pretend to be making a set of new laws. What they did was to write down clearly the laws and customs which they declared the king had broken, and which they wished to make him keep and observe in the future. A great many of these laws and customs had to do with things which were very important at the time, but which have ceased to be important in our own days.
For instance, a great many of the clauses of the Charter speak of the feudal rights of the nobles. Others had to do with the rights of the towns, some clauses gave permission to merchants to travel freely, and to carry on their business without interference, and some had to do with less important matters.
All these things mattered very much at the time, for the "Feudal law" was the law under which the barons lived. The feudal law has now been done away with, and is nearly forgotten. At that time the people in the towns had often hard work to protect themselves against the king or against the nobles. Nowadays all the people of England, whether in town or country, live under the same just laws, so there is little need for those parts of the Charter which have to do with the towns.
It is the same with many other clauses. So many things have changed in England, that the clauses no longer matter very much to us who live nearly seven hundred years after the time of King John. For these reasons we can leave out those parts of the Charter which are no longer important, and can turn our attention to the parts which are best known, and which really make a difference even in the present day.
The following are the clauses, or Articles, as they are called, of the Charter, which we ought specially to remember:
Article 40. "To none will we sell, to none will we refuse, to none will we delay, Right and Justice."
Article 17. "The Court of Common Pleas shall not follow the King's circuit, but shall be held in a certain fixed place."
Article 18. "We, [i.e., the King] or if we are absent from the kingdom, our Chief Justiciary, shall send four times a year into each County, two Judges who . . . shall hold the Assizes at the time and place appointed in the said County."
Article 39. "No Freeman shall be arrested, or imprisoned, or dispossessed of his tenement, or outlawed, or exiled, or in any wise proceeded against, unless by the legal judgment of his Peers, or by the Law of the Land."
Article 20. "No Freeman, Merchant, or Villein, [husbandman] shall be excessively fined for a small offence; the first shall not be deprived of his means of livelihood; the second of his merchandise; the third of his implements of husbandry."
It would not be a bad plan to learn these Articles by heart; it would be well worth while; and we ought to try to understand clearly what they mean. This is not difficult, for they are most of them written in plain language.
Let us take them in order, and see what they mean and how far they concern us.
Article 40. "To none will we sell, to none will we refuse, to none will we delay, right and justice." Such is the promise made by King John on behalf of himself, and of those who were to come after him. It is well that such a promise should have been solemnly made to the people of England so long ago. Without justice to all alike, a country can never prosper. It had been the practice of King John, as it is still the practice of rulers in some parts of the world, to give judgments in favour of those who paid money for them: in other words, to "sell justice." Sometimes the judgment was delayed for months and years, so that the person who sought justice, and who had right on his side, was kept out of his rights all his life. King John promised that for the future, justice should never be "delayed." So, too, he promised that it should never be "refused" to those who asked for it.
These were great promises to make, and if they had been faithfully carried out, it would have been much better for England, and those who lived in it. Unfortunately, John himself was the very first to break these solemn promises which he had made, and many of the kings who came after him forgot or neglected the 40th Article of the Great Charter, and allowed justice to be sold, to be refused, and to be delayed to their subjects. But, thanks to the Charter, every king who acted thus knew that he was doing wrong, and breaking the law which he had promised to keep. It was a great thing to have this right rule always there to point to, and to fight for.
And now, happily, in our own time, we have very nearly got all that King John promised, for it can truly be said that in England, justice is never sold, that it is never denied to any man, rich or poor, high or low. It is true that justice is still sometimes delayed, and that it often takes a man a long time to get a judgment as to what are his rights; but every year more is being done to make going to law easier, and to make it possible for every man to have a judgment on his case in a short time.
The Judges of Assize. (Ch 21)
"In the first class I place the judges as of the first importance. It is the public justice that holds the community together." -- Burke.
But it was no use promising to give justice to all men, if there were no way in which justice could be done, and in which the rights and wrongs in any case could be heard.
In order that justice shall be done, there must be judges. To provide the judges, Articles 17 and 18 were put into the Charter. In the time of King John all justice was supposed to be done by the king himself, and as, of course, he had not time to try all the cases that arose, he used to appoint judges for the purpose.
Wherever the king went, the judges followed him. This was, of course, very inconvenient, for the king was constantly travelling about, sometimes in France, sometimes in Scotland, sometimes hunting, sometimes amusing himself in other ways. The consequence was that many people never got justice done to them at all, and though there were judges, they were of little use.
It was for these reasons that Articles 17 and 18 were put into the Charter. Article 17 says, "The Court of Common Pleas shall not follow the King's Court, but shall be held in a certain fixed place."
Article 18 says "We, or, if we are absent from the kingdom, our Chief Justiciary, shall send four times a year into each County, two Judges, who . . . shall hold the Assizes at the time and place appointed in the said County."
A few years ago, anyone who went to Westminster, in London, and entered the great hall close to the Houses of Parliament, which is known as Westminster Hall, would have seen on one side of the Hall as he went up, five doors, and above them written in order, "Queen's Bench," "Common Pleas," "Exchequer," "Lords Justices," "Lord Chancellor." These were the doors of the Courts of Law, in which the judges sat.
The second door was that of the "Common Pleas," and there sat the judges hearing cases brought before them from all parts of the kingdom. They sat just as they were commanded to sit in Article 17 of Magna Charta, and ever since the time of King John down to the time of Queen Victoria, the Judges of the Common Pleas have sat all the year round at Westminster, during the law terms, to hear cases and to give judgment. It did not matter where the king or queen might be, everyone knew that the judges were to be found "in a certain fixed place," namely, the Court of Common Pleas at Westminster.
In the year 1884 the old Courts at Westminster were pulled down, new ones having been opened two years earlier in the great building which stands in the Strand, in London, and which is called the Royal Courts of Justice. The Court of Common Pleas, the Court of Exchequer, and the Court of King's Bench are now all joined together, and all the judges who sit in them are called Judges of the King's Bench. [Or King's Bench Division of the High Court of Justice]. But though the name is changed, the thing is the same, and the Courts which sit at the Royal Courts of Justice in London are really the same Courts which are spoken of in Article 17 of Magna Charta.
But if everyone had to come to London to get justice, there would be very little justice done. This would be true even nowadays, when, thanks to railways, travelling is so easy and rapid. It would have been much more true in the time of King John, when there were scarcely any roads, and when it took weeks to get from York to London.
It was plain, therefore, that when those who wanted justice could not come to the judges, the judges must go to them. To provide for this, Article 18 was put into the Charter. It runs as follows: "We, or, if we are absent from the kingdom, our Chief Justiciary, shall send four times a year into each county, two judges, who . . . shall hold the Assizes at the time and place appointed in the said County."
Here we see it is provided that the judges shall go into every county, and shall hold the Assizes at some appointed place. Article 18 was written in the year 1215, but to this very day the rule which is laid down in it is carried out. Everyone who has lived in, or near, a County Town knows what is meant by the Assizes. Once or twice every year the Judges of Assize come to York, to Leeds, to Plymouth, to Manchester, to Norwich, to all the big towns in the country, and to some of the small ones, such as Bodmin in Cornwall, and Lewes in Sussex.
The two judges generally come into the town in state. The High Sheriff of the county goes to meet them in a grand carriage. Trumpeters ride before and blow upon their trumpets, and sometimes soldiers are sent to form a guard of honour for the judges. Two Courts are opened. In the one sits a judge clothed in a scarlet robe. He is called the "Crown Judge." All the prisoners who are in gaol waiting their trial are brought before him, to be tried by him and by a Jury, to be punished if they be guilty, and to be let free if they be innocent.
In the other Court sits the second judge in a black robe. He is called the "Civil Judge," and before him are brought all sorts of disputes between persons who have "gone to law" with each other.
Thus we see that the rule laid down in the 18th Article of Magna Charta is still observed. For more than 650 years the Judges of Assize have taken their journeys through England, doing justice to the people in the name of the king or of the queen. The next time we read in the paper the words "Assize News," or the next time we see the judges with their trumpeters coming into a town, we shall do well to remember that we owe their coming to Article 18 of Magna Charta.
Personal Liberty and Trial by Jury. (Ch 21)
"You shall well and truly try, and true deliverance make between our Sovereign Lord the King and the Prisoner at the Bar, and a true verdict give according to the evidence. So help you God!" -- The Oath administered to the Jury in a Criminal Case.
But we must not forget that the judges were appointed by the king, and that an unjust king might easily appoint unjust judges; and that if the king wished to harm any of his subjects, it was as easy for him to injure them through the judges as to do the harm himself. If, therefore, Magna Charta had stopped at Article 18 it would have been very incomplete. Something more had to be done. We shall see what that something was when we read Article 39. Article 39 was as follows: "No freeman shall be arrested, or imprisoned, or dispossessed of his tenement, or outlawed, or exiled, or in anywise proceeded against, unless by the legal judgment of his Peers, or by the Law of the Land."
In the first place we must notice that Article 39 talks of "Freemen." Nowadays all men in England are free, but in the time of King John this was not so. In those days, and for many years afterwards, there were many Englishmen who were actually slaves, while there were others who were known as "Serfs," and who, though not slaves, were something very like it. They were prevented from leaving the land on which they lived, and they were compelled to do a large amount of work for their "Lord" without payment. To such as these, the 39th Article of the Charter did not apply. But as everybody in England is now a free man, every Englishman is concerned in the rule contained in the article.
What the rule says shortly is this, that no man shall be punished in any way except by Law, and that whenever he be charged with any crime, he shall have the right to be tried before a jury of his countrymen before he is found guilty. We have got so accustomed to the enjoyment of these rights now, that we hardly understand how valuable they seemed to those who first got them acknowledged as part of the laws of England. Those who do wrong must be punished, and it is often quite just that they should be put in prison; but if the right to put them into prison were left to those whom they had injured, or to any person who was powerful enough to carry them off against their will, there would soon be no peace in the land.
Over and over again it has happened in our history, that persons have been put into prison by powerful enemies, and their liberty taken away from them by force. But whenever this has been done, Article 39 of the Charter has been broken and set aside. The words of the Charter are very plain: "No man shall be arrested, or imprisoned, or dispossessed of his tenement (this means turned out of his house or land), or in anywise proceeded against (which means that no steps shall be taken to punish or to injure him), except by the legal judgment of his Peers."
If we want to know what is meant by "The legal Judgment of his Peers," we have only to go into any court where prisoners are being tried at the Assizes. There we shall see a Jury of twelve men chosen by lot from a long list of persons unknown to the prisoner. The jury will hear the whole of the case against the prisoner, and it is they who will have to say whether he be "Guilty," or "Not Guilty," of the crime which is laid to his charge. If they say that he be "not guilty," nothing more can be done to him, and no one can touch him.
It may be asked, What is the meaning of the word "Peers"? Peers here means "Equals," or persons in the same class of life. It was thought by those who drew up Magna Charta that it was only fair to a man that he should be tried by those of his own rank, and in his own way of life. For instance, they meant that a Baron should be tried by other barons, that a Churchman should be tried by other churchmen, and that a merchant, or a farmer, should, in the same way, be tried by those who were in the same rank of life as himself.
They thought that injustice would be done if those in one class were allowed to try those of another, for then there was always a danger that a jury of barons would be unfair to a churchman or to a merchant, that a jury of merchants would be unfair to a baron or a churchman, and so on. This was the more important, because, at the time when Magna Charta was signed, there were different laws for the churchmen, for the nobles, and for the merchants and farmers. Now that there is only one law for all, it is not necessary to make any distinction between the juries by which different people are tried.
How the Law Protects the Weak. (Ch 21)
The law is no respecter of persons.
We must not suppose that because we are so accustomed to the idea of every man being judged according to law only, that even in our time the danger against which Article 39 of Magna Charta was intended to guard us is unknown. It is not so long ago, indeed, since men were put into prison and their property taken from them in England by order of the king, or by order of the House of Commons, contrary to the law of the land.
In the reign of Charles I., the king himself did many things which were contrary to the law. Among other things, he tried to take prisoners five Members of Parliament in the House of Commons itself. But the House of Commons would not let the king take the Members prisoners. It was long before Charles could be punished for his illegal deeds, but at last, as we know, the Parliament and the people rose against him, and drove him from his throne, and put him to death.
The very first thing that his son, Charles II., was made to do when he was put back upon the throne was to sign a solemn promise that he would always act according to the law, and that he would obey the rules which had been laid down in Magna Charta, and in the other laws of England.
Thus we see that Magna Charta has been a protection for the people and Parliament of England against the king, when the king became too strong. But it was not the king only who broke the law and disobeyed the rules of Magna Charta. In the reign of George III., the House of Commons ordered some men who had written down the speeches made in Parliament to be put into prison.
At that time no one was allowed to give an account of what was said in Parliament. The House of Commons sent a messenger to take one of these men, named Wheble, prisoner. But Wheble had never been tried according to the law, which says that no man shall be imprisoned unless he has been tried and found guilty by a jury, or according to law. So when the messenger of the House of Commons came to take Wheble prisoner, Wheble turned the tables on him, and had the messenger himself made a prisoner.
The messenger was brought before the Lord Mayor of London to be tried, and the Lord Mayor said that it was plain that he had broken the law, for he had sought to imprison a man who had never been tried and found guilty. So the Lord Mayor sent the messenger of the House of Commons to prison. Then there was a great quarrel between the House of Commons and the Lord Mayor, but it ended in Wheble being allowed to go free. And thus we see that even the House of Commons has to obey the law, and is not allowed to break the rules laid down in Magna Charta.
And just as the king, when he was very powerful, tried to break the law, and just as Parliament, when it became very strong, tried to break the law, so also the very people for whom the law was made have sometimes tried to break it.
There was a time, not very long ago, when there were great trouble and alarm in the town of Sheffield. A Trades Union had been formed among the workmen who ground saws in Sheffield. It was called the "Saw Grinders' Union." All the saw grinders in Sheffield did not join the union, but those who belonged to it thought they were strong enough to make the others join. They tried to frighten the men who did not belong to the union. They broke their grindstones, they stole their tools, and they even killed some of the non-union men.
All these things were contrary to law; and so at last Parliament had to put a stop to this cruel work. They sent down men who made inquiry about all that had taken place, and who showed how the law had been broken. Then those who had broken the law were told that if ever they dared to offend in the same way again they would be severely punished.
Thus it will be seen that the Law is strong enough to punish King or Parliament, or People. It is a very good thing that the law is so strong and so clear, for history teaches us that those who have great power, whether they be king, or whether they be Members of Parliament, or whether they be working men, will often use their power to injure those who are weaker than themselves, and it is a good thing to have a law which will stop any man, whether he be rich or poor, high or low, from being unjust to others.
And even now, in our own time, there are many parts of the world in which people have been violently and unjustly put in prison, and their land and their property taken away from them, without any regard for the law, and without those who were thus unjustly treated receiving a fair and open trial. It is a most happy thing for us in England to know that no man, whether he be rich or poor, high or low, can be punished in any way, or deprived of his property, without a full and fair trial.
Magna Charta and the Seamstress. (Ch 21)
"He shall keep the simple folk by their right; defend the children of the poor, and punish the wrong-doer." Psalm lxxii.
And now we come to Article 20 of the Charter, which is as follows: "No Freeman, Merchant, or Villein [husbandman] shall be excessively fined for a small offence; the first shall not be deprived of his means of livelihood; the second of his merchandise; the third of his implements of husbandry."
This is a very important Article, and a very interesting one. Shortly put, it says, that however much one man may owe to another, he shall never be deprived of those things which are necessary to enable him to get a living.
The law nowadays is not exactly the same as that laid down in Article 20, for in our day a man's merchandise may be taken in payment of his debts, but the law still says that a man's bed, and a man's tools with which he gets his living, may not be taken away from him.
Thus, not long ago, it happened that a woman in London owed money to a man. The man to whom she owed the money, the "Creditor,'" as he is called, went to law and got an order from the judge which enabled him to take from the woman who owed him the money, and who is called the "Debtor" enough of her property to pay the debt. Now, the woman was a seamstress, and earned her living by her sewing machine.
The creditor sent bailiffs to take a sufficient amount of her property to pay the debt. Among other things the bailiffs took the sewing machine. This was against the law, and they had no right to do it. The woman in her turn went to the magistrate and told him what had been done. The magistrate said at once that the Law had been broken. He ordered the creditor to give back the sewing machine, and to pay a sum of money as a punishment for having broken the law.
This is a wise and reasonable rule, for it is only fair that all men and women should be allowed to keep the means by which they get their living. It is only good sense too; for if one man be owed money by another, it is no use taking from the debtor the very things by which he earns his livelihood. In the same way the law forbids a creditor to take the bed on which a man sleeps, or to take the tools with which he does his work. These rules, we shall see, were first laid down in Article 20 of the Great Charter.
"Things New and Old." (Ch 21)
"The old never dies till this happen, till all the soul of good that was in it get itself transformed into the practical new." -- Carlyle.
Now we have gone through the most important Articles of the Charter, and have seen how much these rules, which were drawn up and agreed to nearly seven hundred years ago, have to do with our own lives at the present day; and from this we may learn a lesson. It is said by some persons who do not think very carefully, that old laws must be bad ones, and that because a law has been a law for very many years, it must be old-fashioned or unreasonable. The moment we come to think, and to remember what we have just learnt about Magna Charta, we shall see how foolish such an opinion as this is.
Some laws which were made a long time ago are useless now, because the habits and customs of the people of England have changed so much that there is no longer any sense in the laws or use for them. For instance, laws were made at one time providing for the keeping up of castles on the border between England and Scotland, and on the border between England and Wales, and for making certain people answerable for finding soldiers to defend the castles. Now there is no need for such castles, and the law, therefore, has long ago become useless.
Then there was also a very strange law made in the time of Queen Elizabeth which is of no use nowadays. In the time of Queen Elizabeth it became the fashion to wear tall, starched "ruffs," or collars, stuck up all round the head, like the one in the picture. The ruffs grew taller and taller, for everybody thought that the way to become fashionable was to wear a "ruff" a little higher than his neighbour. At last a law was made which forbade people to wear "ruffs" more than a certain height, and those who did so were punished. There may, perhaps, have been some good in the law when it was made, but there is certainly no good in it nowadays. Nobody now wants to wear "ruffs" high, and if they did they would receive no worse punishment than being laughed at.
There are also laws which were bad laws when they were made, or which were made at a time when people did not know things which we have since discovered. For instance, many laws were made against witchcraft, and terrible punishments were inflicted upon those who were suspected of being witches. We now know that witchcraft and witches are foolish inventions, and all the laws against them, therefore, which were never wise, have long ago ceased to be part of the law of the land.
But there are some things which were right and true nearly 700 years ago, and which are as right and true now as they were then. It was right nearly 700 years ago that justice should be done to all men; it is also right now. It was right 700 years ago that no one should be punished except by law, and it is right now; and so we have to thank those ancestors of ours who lived in the time of King John because they were wise enough to make laws in their own time which were so just and so useful that the need for them is still felt.
And we must not forget that Magna Charta is still a part of the Law of the Land just as much as any Act of Parliament that was passed last year. Magna Charta was first signed by King John, but it was afterwards altered several times, and it was signed again by Henry III., the son of King John.
If we look in the law books which contain the statutes or laws of England, we shall find there, near the beginning, a statute which the lawyers call "Cap. IX., Hen. III." which means the ninth chapter of the statutes passed in the time of King Henry III. Ever since that time Magna Charta has been part of the law of England, and it is interesting to remember that when Charles II. came back to England after the death of Oliver Cromwell, and was put back upon the throne, he was made to promise that he would observe the rules of Magna Charta.
The Famous "Fifteens." (Ch 21)
"What hath this day deserv'd? What hath it done
That it in golden letters should be set,
Among the high tides in the Calendar?"
-- Shakespeare: "King John" Act III.
We saw that the Charter was signed in the year 1215. It is interesting to observe how many of the important things in the history of England have happened in a year ending in the number "15."
In 1215 Magna Charta was signed. In 1415 Henry V. won the great victory of Agincourt over the French. In 1715 took place the "Jacobite Rebellion," when the Pretender tried to lead his Scottish army into England, a rebellion which is generally known in history as "The 'Fifteen." In 1815 was fought the great battle of Waterloo. Here are four famous dates which we shall find it very easy to remember -- 1215, 1415, 1715, and 1815.
Chapter 22. Henry III. The Parliament of England. 1216-1272.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Henry III: |
Henry III. and his Foreign Friends. (Ch 22)
CHAMBERLAIN -- "Is't possible, the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
SANDS -- New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
* * * * *
CHAMBERLAIN . . . . now, I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre."
-- "Henry VIII" Act I., Scene 3.
When John died he was succeeded by his son Henry. Henry was a boy of nine years of age when he became king. He reigned longer than any English sovereign except King George III. and Queen Victoria. But the reign of Henry was one of misery and disturbance for the people of England.
Little good was done for this country by the king. One thing, however, he did which was a good thing, and by which we may remember him. It was Henry III. who rebuilt the beautiful Abbey at Westminster, and a great deal of the Abbey as it now stands dates from the time of Henry III.
But if Henry did little that was good or worthy, some things happened during his reign which were of great importance, and which have made a great difference to the people of England. When we go through the reigns of the different kings and queens of England, and try to put down what is the chief thing to be remembered in each of them, we shall see when we come to the reign of Henry III. that the chief thing to be remembered is that the first English Parliament sat in the reign of Henry III.
If we take up a newspaper we often see the words "Imperial Parliament," and underneath them an account of the speeches which are made, and the Acts which are passed in the House of Lords and the House of Commons. This great Parliament, which everybody knows something about nowadays, has come down to us from the stormy reign of Henry III.
We must try to understand how it was that this came about. One thing we can hardly help noticing, and that is, how often good comes out of evil. We saw how in the time of King John there were injustice and cruelty throughout the land. We saw also how this very injustice and cruelty led to King John being forced to sign Magna Charta. And now again in the time of Henry III., we shall see how troubles and disturbances led to the founding of the Parliament of which we are so proud.
The whole story cannot really be told so shortly as it must be told here. A great deal must be left out which can be read in larger books, but the chief part of the story can be told in a few pages.
We shall find, as a rule, that whenever a great change is made in the history of a country, there has always been one great man whose name is remembered because of the part he took in helping to bring about that change. And so it is in this case. The name which Englishmen ought always to think of when they speak of the first Parliament, is the name of a very great man, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.
And now let us go back to the history itself. It seemed at first as if things would have gone on smoothly after the death of King John, for John had made promises of good behaviour in Magna Charta, on behalf of himself and of his son. But it was soon seen that there were many difficulties to be overcome.
As soon as the king grew old enough to be married, he took as his wife Eleanor of Provence. Provence is in the south of France, and Eleanor was, of course, a foreigner, and all her friends were foreigners too. These friends came over in numbers to England, and they all expected to receive from King Henry some of the riches of England, either in money or in lands. Some were given castles and lands, others were made archbishops or bishops. Nor had these strangers the good sense to use their fortune wisely. They despised the English people, and were cruel and insolent to them. We can easily understand that the English, both rich and poor, soon began to hate these ill-mannered foreigners, who took their land and their money, and who treated them so badly.
A party of barons formed themselves together. At the head of them was Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester. Simon was the son of a Frenchman who had become famous as a great soldier. Simon, the younger, came over to England when he became Earl of Leicester, at his father's death, and he soon learnt to share the feelings of the English barons and the English people. They, too, on their side, learnt to trust him, for they saw that he was a strong man, true and brave. Quarrels soon broke out between the king and the barons. The king broke the promises which had been made by his father in Magna Charta. Simon de Montfort and the barons took up arms against him, as the barons had done against John, and made him swear once more that he would keep to the Charter. In order that the barons and the people might have some way of making the king keep his promise in the future, Simon de Montfort declared that there must be a Council called to help the king in the government of the country.
Laws, and Law-makers. (Ch 22)
"Be it enacted by the King's most excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:" -- From the commencement of a modern Act of Parliament.
We now come to a very important time in the history of England. The story which is to be told in this chapter is the story of the beginning of Parliament. We all know pretty well what Parliament is, and we know something about what it does. Parliament is made up of the King or Queen, and the Two Houses, called the House of Lords and the House of Commons. Every law that is made has to be agreed to by the House of Commons, and by the House of Lords, and then by the King or Queen. It is with the House of Commons that we now have to do.
The House of Commons is made up of a great number of Members who have been chosen or elected by the people living in the counties and towns of England, Scotland, and Ireland, to speak on behalf of those who have elected them. In this way the people of England, Scotland, and Ireland make their own laws, and whether they be good laws or bad laws depends upon those who make them. If the laws be bad, the people of England, Scotland, and Ireland have nobody to thank but themselves. But if they be made in this way, they are more likely to be good laws than if they are made in any other way; for, as it was said by those who wrote about Parliament so long ago as the time of Simon de Montfort and Henry III., "They who are ruled by the laws know those laws best; they who make daily trial of them are best acquainted with them; and since it is their own affairs which are at stake, they will take more care, and will act with an eye to their own peace."
What was true in the time of King Henry is true now. Those who have to obey the laws are most likely to know whether the laws injure them or not; and, as a rule, people will more readily obey those laws which they have had some share in making.
Now let us see how it happened that the people of England first began to think of this way of making laws in the time of Henry III. It seems simple enough in these days, but it was a new thing then, and a great deal of hard work and hard fighting had to be done before our Parliament could be made such as we now know it.
In the time of Henry, nearly all the government of the country was carried on by the king and the king's Ministers; that is to say, by those officers whom he appointed. Armies were got together by order of the king; the king himself often led his soldiers in battle. Great buildings, such as Westminster Abbey, were built by order of the king.
To do all, or indeed any, of these things, money was wanted and often a great deal of money. At first, when William the Conqueror came over, and when the English had little power and could do nothing to protect themselves, it was not hard for the king to ask for whatever he wanted, and to take it, whether the owners liked or not. But by-and-by, as we have seen, the king found that this plan did not always succeed.
We read in another chapter how the barons forced King John to promise to do justice, and to keep to the rules laid down in Magna Charta. One of these rules was that the king should only take a "fair" amount of money from the barons and the people whenever he wanted money to spend. It was very easy to say that the king was only to take a fair amount, but who was to decide what was fair? If the king were strong, the king decided, and took what he chose, for "might was right." If the king were weak, then the barons or the citizens of the towns decided for themselves what they thought fair, and the king did not get what he wanted.
Neither way was a very good way, and both sides soon found this out. It has often been said of Englishmen, "that they are easier to lead than to drive"; they are often more ready to give a thing because they are asked to give, than to give it because they are commanded to do so. Simon de Montfort knew this very well, and after King Henry had been beaten at the battle of Lewes (1264), Simon formed a plan by which he thought that the quarrel between the king, who was always in want of money, and the barons and people, who had got to pay the money, could be put an end to.
"Let the king," said Simon, "call together the barons and the citizens, and let him tell them how much money it is that he wants, and what he wants it for, and then it will be for the barons and the people to say how much money they will give, and in what way it shall be collected. If the king asks what is right and just, then what he asks will be given to him, and it will be given all the more willingly because those who have to pay it will know for what purpose it is to be used, and will have given it of their own free will.'"
With this thought in his mind, Simon de Montfort and his friends advised the king to call together a Parliament, to help him to govern the country. And now, for the first time, a real Parliament was called. There sat in the Parliament only twenty-three barons. Some of the barons were enemies of Montfort, and some thought they would offend the king by coming; others were afraid to come. There were also a hundred and twenty Churchmen, and besides these there were the "Members," as we now call them, chosen from each county and town. The county members were called "Knights of the Shire," and, indeed, that is what they are called to this day.
When a new Parliament is called together, notices are sent to the Sheriff of each County Division, telling him to send to Parliament a "Knight of the Shire" for that part of the country. There are eight knights of the shire for Devon-shire. Little Rutland-shire has only one, and York-shire has no less than twenty-seven.
But when we talk about Knights of the Shire, we generally call them "County Members." Those who are sent to Parliament to speak on behalf of the towns were called "Burgesses." We now call them "Borough Members," which is very much the same thing.
The First Parliament. (Ch 22)
"Now call we our High Court of Parliament,
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best-govern'd nation."
-- "Henry IV.," Part II., Act V., Scene 2
This first Parliament, which was called together six hundred years ago, did not do very much. The country was still divided into two parties, and Montfort had many enemies. The king was glad enough to get rid of the Parliament, and Parliaments were not then as strong as they are now, and so this first Parliament very soon came to an end. But though it was the first, we know very well that it was not the last, and from that time to this there has been a long chain of Parliaments, some good, some bad. Through them the people of England have been able to speak, and to say by what laws they wished to be governed, and what money they wished to pay.
One thing we ought to notice. It was thought when Parliaments first began, that it would be very hard for the king ever to get enough money to do what was needed for the country. It was feared that when the people of England were asked to give money, they would always say "No," and would keep as much of their money in their pockets as possible.
But this fear has not turned out to be well founded, and the reason is that English people have generally had good sense. They know well that a great deal of money must be spent in order that a great country such as England may be properly governed, and they have, therefore, nearly always been willing to give very large sums of money out of their pockets to enable the king to govern their country.
Nowadays the king or queen does not govern the country in the same way as King Henry II. or King William I. used to do. In the time of King Edward VII. it is Parliament which really decides who shall govern the country. But money is wanted now just as much as it was wanted in the time of King Henry, and every year Parliament is asked to give many millions of pounds, which have to be paid by the people of England in order that the Army and Navy may be kept up, that the Judges and the Police may be paid, that the Post Office may be carried on, and for many other purposes.
It is true that in the reign of Henry III. England seemed for a time to be split up into two parties the party of the king on the one hand, and the party of the barons and the people on the other and that these two parties were always at war with each other. But it would be a great mistake to think that this was always the case in the history of England. Over and over again, the Parliaments of England gladly gave the money that they were asked to give. It was only when they thought the king was breaking the law, or doing some unjust act, that they used their right to refuse to give him the money for which he asked.
The Fall of Montfort. (Ch 22)
"When the Barons in arms did King Henry oppose,
Sir Simon de Montfort their leader they chose;
A leader of courage undaunted was he,
And ofttimes he made their enemies flee.
"At length, in the battle on Evesham Plain,
The Barons were routed, and Montfort was slain."
-- "Sir Simon de Montfort," from Percy's "Reliques."
And now we must go back for a short time to Simon de Montfort, and see what happened to him after he had persuaded the king to call together a Parliament. It seemed as if from that time good-fortune had forsaken him. Many who had been his friends left him, and his enemies were always ready to do him harm.
Before long King Henry thought himself strong enough to take up arms a second time against De Montfort. He was soon joined by his son Edward, who had fought bravely by his father's side at the battle of Lewes. Montfort, like a brave old soldier, put himself at the head of his troops, and went out to meet the king. But this time everything seemed against him. His army was small, and that of King Henry was large; and, worst of all, the king's army was under the command of Prince Edward, whom Montfort himself had long ago instructed in the duties of a soldier and a general.
At last the armies came face to face with each other near Evesham, in Worcestershire (1265). Simon rode out in front of his troops to look at the army of the enemy. When he saw it drawn up in good order, and arranged with great art, he knew at once who must be the general who had displayed so much skill. "By the arm of St. James!" he cried, "they come on in wise fashion; but it was from me that they learnt it." He knew that his pupil, the young Prince Edward, was leading this great army against him.
The battle began, and soon the small band with Simon were cut down or forced to fly. Everywhere the victory rested with the young prince. Simon himself was struck from his horse, and, at last, fighting bravely, was killed upon the field of battle. Thus died Simon de Montfort, one of the greatest men of whom we read in the history of England.
Simon de Montfort was a foreigner by birth, but he had learnt to become as English as the English themselves. He was true and just in all his dealings, and, perhaps because he was so true and just, he made many enemies, for many men had unjustly taken that to which they had no right, and when they were made to give up that which did not belong to them, they were angry with the man who stood up for what was right.
A story is told of Simon which shows us what kind of a man he was. The king promised that all the foreign barons should be made to give up their castles. Now Simon himself was a foreigner, and held the two great castles of Kenilworth and Odiham.
But Simon was not going to be the first to break a law which he had helped to make. He gave up his two castles at once. But if he was to obey the rule, he was determined that others should do so too. His enemy, William of Valence, Earl of Pembroke, vowed that, whether the king ordered it or no, he at any rate would not give up his castles. Simon turned fiercely upon him: "You shall either give up your castles or your head," said he. William of Valence was wise enough to know that what Simon de Montfort said he meant, and in order to keep his head he soon gave up his castles.
Perhaps the most noble thing to be remembered about Simon de Montfort is the way in which he was always true to England and to his friends. No man fought harder for King Henry, or did better service to the king than Simon, and yet King Henry was always ready to desert him, and to honour and reward the enemies of England, rather than the man who was the friend of England.
Very different was the conduct of Simon. Once when Henry had treated him with great injustice, and taken from him a large sum of money, and many of his castles, Simon received from the King of France the offer of a much larger sum of money, and greater and stronger castles, if he would serve Louis instead of King Henry; for throughout all Europe the name of Simon de Montfort was known as that of a great leader and a wise counsellor. But Simon refused the offer of the King of France with scorn, and would never consent to serve any other country than England.
His name deserves a much higher place in the history of England than that of his sovereign. The memory of King Henry should be held in scorn by every Englishman, because he honoured and rewarded the enemies of England, and hated and ill-treated those who were true to England.
Henry III. died in the year 1272 in his sixty-sixth year.
PART THREE. ENGLAND UNDER ENGLISH KINGS. 1272-1485.
Note.
The Third Part of our history deals with the period of two hundred and thirteen years which elapsed between the accession of Edward I. and the death of the last of the great line of Plantagenet kings, Richard III., on Bosworth field. The period is one of chequered fortunes. We shall read first how under our kings, now real Englishmen, the limits of the kingdom as it was to exist for more than three centuries were decided: how the great soldier Edward I. added Wales to his dominions, and how his feeble son lost Scotland.
With Edward III begins the story of the terrible Hundred Years War, which drained the resources of England and France, a war in which brilliant triumphs were succeeded by melancholy failures, and in which English kings and English soldiers first won and then lost the fair kingdom of France.
Lastly we come to the history of the civil conflict known as the "Wars of the Roses," and of the sordid quarrels which followed in its course; we see how the destruction of the great nobles led to the growth of a new aristocracy, while the crown obtained a power and influence in the country which even our greatest kings had never hitherto secured.
Something is said of the social life of the country; of Wycliffe, the great religious teacher; of Chaucer, the great English poet, the creator of our modern speech, and of Caxton the printer, the man to whom we owe the fixing of our language in forms which have become possessions for ever.
Chapter 23. Edward I. and "The Breaking of Wales." 1272-1307.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Edward I: |
England at War. (Ch 23)
"In the person of the great Edward, the work of reconciliation is completed. Norman and Englishmen have become one under the best and greatest of our later kings, the first who, since the Norman entered our land, . . . followed a purely English policy." --Freeman.
We now come to the reign of three kings -- father, son, and grandson: Edward I., Edward II., and Edward III.
These three reigns cover a long period in the history of England, for from the day when Edward I. came to the throne, to the day on which his grandson, Edward III., died, is no less than one hundred and five years.
These one hundred and five years are full of interest; much happened in them that Englishmen ought to know and care about, but we have not room here to follow every subject in detail and we must therefore try to choose those which are the most important.
The reigns of the three Edwards must always be remembered as times of war. It is not always that the wars which take place during any part of a country's history are the most important things to read about and to remember.
We sometimes give up too much time to reading about battles and fighting just because they are interesting and exciting, and forget that the battles sometimes make really very little difference to the country, and that what happens during many years of peace is often far more important than what happens during a few years of war. But we cannot say about the wars of King Edward I. and of his son and grandson, that they were unimportant, and that they made no real difference to the history of England. On the contrary, we shall see they made a very great difference indeed, and that England would not have been what it is if these wars had not been fought.
Three countries touched or lay very close to the borders of England. With each of these countries England, during the reign of the Edwards, was at war. Wales, Scotland, and France were in turn invaded, and the red cross of "St. George" was seen on the Severn, the Forth, and the Seine.
The wars which began with the accession of Edward I., and ended, or rather ceased for a time, at the death of his grandson, Edward III., had very different results for the three countries in which they were carried on. It may be said that the one hundred and five years which passed between 1272 and 1377 saw "The Breaking of Wales," "the Making of Scotland," and "the Ruin of France."
We shall learn in the next chapters what is the meaning of these three sayings, and how far it is true to say that the wars of the Edwards "broke" Wales, "made" Scotland, and "ruined" France.
"The Breaking of Wales." (Ch 23)
"The Divine Providence having now, of its favour, wholly transferred to our dominion the land of Wales, with its inhabitants, heretofore subject to us in feudal right, all obstacles ceasing; and having annexed and united the same unto the crown of the aforesaid realm as a member of the same body; we therefore . . . . desiring that the people of those lands who have submitted themselves to our will should be protected in security, under fixed laws and customs, have caused to be rehearsed before us and the nobles of our realm, the laws and customs in those parts hitherto in use; which, having fully understood, we have, by the advice of the said nobles, abolished some of them, some we have allowed, and some we have corrected, and we have commanded and ordained certain others to be added thereto." -- From the Preamble to "The Statutes of Wales," passed by the Parliament held at Rhuddlan in Flintshire, 1284.
The Saxons in the long wars that followed the landing of Hengist and Horsa, broke down bit by bit the power of the Britons. The Saxons landed on the south and east coasts of England, and as they marched on towards the west, they drove before them the British tribes who refused to submit, and who were lucky enough to escape from the swords of their pursuers.
Step by step the Saxons advanced, and step by step the Britons retreated before them. The Saxons reached the sea at Carlisle, at Chester, the border between England and Wales, at Bristol, and at Plymouth. It seemed as if the unhappy Britons must either be pushed into the Irish Channel, or be utterly destroyed by their fierce enemies.
But if we take a map of England and draw a line joining Plymouth, Bristol, Chester, and Carlisle, we shall see that to the west of this line there lie two great pieces of country which form the most western parts of England, and which we know to be Cornwall and Wales.
In these distant corners the retreating Britons at last found refuge. Cornwall was very far off, and in Wales the steep mountains and thick forests formed a protection against the Saxon armies. It was in Cornwall and Wales, therefore, that the Britons at last settled, and it is in Cornwall and Wales that their descendants are to be found to this day.
But it was not long before the Saxons made their way into Cornwall. Between Devonshire and Cornwall there is no great natural division, no broad river like the Severn flows between them, nor are there in Cornwall high mountains like Snowdon and Cader Idris. Besides, it was easy for the sailors of Dover, Portsmouth, and Plymouth to sail down to the Land's End and into the harbours of Fowey, Falmouth, and Penzance without fear of being interrupted by the British tribes on land. And so it happened that before the time of Edward I. Cornwall had become a part of the Kingdom of England, and that the Saxons and Britons had already begun to mix together in the west. It is true that Cornwall was more British than any other part of England, and so it is now.
There is a well-known rhyme which says that
"By Tre, Pol, and Pen,
You may know Cornishmen."
The rhyme means that if a man has a name which begins with "Tre," such as "Trevenen," or with "Pol," such as "Poltimore," or with "Pen," such as "Penrose," he is most likely a Cornishman. Now Tre, Pol, and Pen are all British words. "Tre" means a village, "Pol" means a pool, and "Pen" means the top of a hill: so even now we can see marks of Cornwall being more British than Saxon. But nowadays we may go from Saltash [Saltash is the first town we reach on entering Cornwall from Devonshire by the Great Western Railway. Penzance is the last town in Cornwall before we reach the Land's End.] to Penzance without hearing a word of any other language than English; and even so long ago as the time of Edward I. Cornwall was fast becoming an English county.
But the history of Wales is altogether different. If we travel from Bangor to Barmouth, we go through village after village where all the old people, and nearly all the young ones, talk Welsh instead of English, and in which there are still some people who can talk no language but Welsh. These people are the descendants of the Britons who held their own against the Saxons a thousand years ago, and who have lived in the land, and who have kept their own language from that time to this.
Up to the time of Edward I. the Kings of England had never been able to make the Welsh submit to them. Armies had often been sent across the Severn into the mountains of Montgomery and Brecknockshire. Sometimes the English and the Normans had gained a victory, but the bravery of the Welsh, and the difficulty of fighting in pathless valleys and on steep mountain sides, had always been too much for the invaders in the end. They had been driven out, and the Welsh princes, though conquered for a time, had always got back what had been lost.
But now they had to deal with a man who was both a great soldier and a wise king; and at last, in spite of their own bravery, and in spite of the protection which their mountains and their forests afforded, the Welsh were forced to admit that they had found a master.
In the reigns of John and Henry III. there had been a great deal of fighting along the border-land between England and Wales. The Norman barons had built strong castles on the border, or sometimes beyond it, in lands which they had taken from the Welsh. And the Welsh on their side often crossed the border into England to rob and plunder the English.
In the reign of Henry III., while the long war between Henry and the barons was going on, the Welsh had become more powerful than before. Under their Prince Llewelyn they joined together to take back from the English all that they had lost, and even made an attack upon the English town of Shrewsbury.
At first Llewelyn was victorious, and the Welsh, proud of the bravery of their prince, came from all parts of the country to fight for him, and for their land. The Welsh have always been lovers of music and song. To this day some of the best and most sweet-voiced choirs in the kingdom are those which come from Wales. Each year there is held in Wales a great meeting called an "Eisteddfod," pronounced "Eistethvode," at which poems and songs which have been written on purpose are read and sung, and at which prizes are given to those who have done best. Six hundred years ago the Welsh were the same song-loving, musical people that they are now; and when Llewelyn, Prince of Wales, came forward to lead his people against the English, and when it seemed as if he were going at last to lead his countrymen to victory, there came from all parts, harpers, and poets, or "Bards," as they were called, who sang his praises, and foretold the great deeds which he was to do.
But, alas! for the Welsh, neither their own courage nor the promises of victory made to them by the Bards, were enough to save them from defeat. Weary of the attacks made upon the English border, King Edward at last determined to march into Wales. He sent a message to Llewelyn bidding him do homage to him as King of Wales. Llewelyn refused to obey, and the English army marched into his country.
At first it seemed as if victory were to be on the side of the Welsh; the English were defeated in North Wales. But ere long the fortune of war changed, and the Welsh were everywhere beaten. Llewelyn, the last Welsh Prince of Wales, was killed in battle in South Wales (1282), and Edward was soon master of the whole country, from Bangor on the north to Pembroke on the south.
The king used his victory wisely and well. Strong castles were built throughout the country to guard against another rising. On page 195 is a picture of one of them, which is standing to this day, and which may be seen by anyone who pays a visit to North Wales. The country was divided into twelve counties. English laws took the place of the old Welsh laws, and the king's son, the little Prince Edward (20) , who was born in Carnarvon Castle (1284), was made Prince of Wales (1301).
From that day to this the eldest son of the king or queen of England has borne as his first and highest title, the name of Prince of Wales. From the time of Edward I. the history of Wales as a separate country comes to an end. The people of Wales kept their old language, their old customs, and their old history, but they gave up their old laws and their old princes. Thus we see how the first war of the three Edwards ended in the "Breaking of Wales," and in joining together once more all the people of England who had been separated for a time by the fight between Saxon and Briton.
Chapter 24. Scotland.
"Over the Border."
"At the park afterward his parliament set he,
The good King Edward, at Lincoln his citie;
At St. Catherine's house the Earl Marshal lay;
In the Broadgate lay The Bruse, erle was he that day.
The King lay at Middleham; it is the bishop's towne:
And other lords came, in the countrie up and downe."
-- Longtoft, describing the Parliament of Lincoln.
We now come to the second set of wars which was fought during the reigns of the three Edwards, and which ended in the "Making of Scotland." Before we can understand how these wars began, and how they ended, we must turn our attention for a short time to the history of Scotland.
We are accustomed to think of England and Scotland as having been in old times two quite distinct countries, like England and France. We think of the English living on the south side of the "Border" and the Scots on the north side as people of two different nations, each governed by its own king and having its own separate Government.
It is true that a time came when the two countries were really divided in this way. But up to the time of Edward I. there was no such distinction. The division between England and Scotland is very different from the division between England and Wales. Between Somersetshire and Glamorganshire, there runs the broad water of the Bristol Channel; and the traveller has scarcely crossed the border between England and Wales, at any place between Chester and Cardiff, before he finds himself among the steep mountains and narrow valleys in which the Welsh armies were accustomed to take refuge.
But it is quite possible to go from England into Scotland and never know when the border has been crossed. It is true that at the eastern end the valley of the Tweed is deep, and makes a clear line between the two countries; but further to the west there is scarcely anything to show where England ends and Scotland begins. If we take the train from Carlisle to Dumfries, we shall stop first at a little station called Gretna Green. Gretna Green is in Scotland, but one must keep a very sharp look-out from the carriage window to know at what moment the train crosses the little stream of the Gretna which here divides the two countries.
Nor is there any very great difference between the way people talk in the North of England and in the South of Scotland. The Welsh which is spoken in Carnarvonshire is quite a different language from the English which is spoken in Shropshire, but there is really very little difference between the talk of Cumberland-men and Peebles-men. Indeed, there is no reason why there should be much difference, for they are all really part of the same people.
But if we go further north, across the Firth of Forth, and beyond Stirling, we shall find a very different state of things. Here the traveller leaves behind him the fertile fields and broad plains of the Lowlands, and begins to climb the steep sides or thread his way through the narrow passes of the Highland mountains. Here, even in our own day, we find a people speaking a language which is not English, but which is more like Welsh. It is called "Gaelic" and the Highlanders, who talk Gaelic, are quite a different people from the English-speaking Lowlanders.
When the Saxons came into England, and drove the Britons back before them, they did not stop either at the Tweed or the Gretna. There was no reason why those who had made their way into what is now Yorkshire, Durham, Cumberland, and Northumberland should not find their way into what we now call the Scottish counties of Peebles, Berwick, Selkirk, and The Lothians.
The Saxons, indeed, spread far and wide throughout the Lowlands of Scotland, and either drove out the Scots and Picts whom they found there, or became mixed up with them. The south of Scotland became nearly as Saxon as the north of England. In the same way, when William the Conqueror had made himself master of England, the Norman barons who had followed him passed on quite as a matter of course into the south of Scotland. Lands were given to them in Scotland as well as in England. They held these lands from the Scottish king, but at the same time they kept their lands in England, and looked to William and the kings of England as their real feudal lords.
Scotland itself was divided among many tribes and clans, and the early Kings of Scotland had but little power over the whole country. The people of Scotland had not at that time become one people; we shall see in this chapter how they became so. The kings of England, for a long time before the reign of Edward I., had claimed to be kings of Scotland, and English armies had sometimes marched far into Scotland. But the English kings had, as a rule, too much to do near home to allow of their taking much trouble to make good their claim to Scotland.
But when Edward I. came to the throne, a great change had come over England. The long wars between Henry and the barons were over. Edward himself was a true English king. The Normans and the Saxons had learnt to live together without quarrelling. The Norman barons, who spoke French, and who were looked upon by the English as foreigners and enemies, had now become the barons of England, many of whom talked English and were as ready to fight for England as they had formerly been to fight against England.
The king himself was beloved by all the people. The English hailed him as the first really "English" king since the death of Harold. Nor was Edward beloved for this reason only. Tall, handsome, and strong, with golden hair, he seemed to the English to be a real Englishman. He was proud and wilful, but he was a true lover of his people, seeking to do what was just and honest. His soldiers loved him for his courage, and for his readiness to share in all their hardships. The people looked upon him as their protector against the nobles. He was a religious man, a hard worker, and was always true to England and to the English people. It is not wonderful, therefore, that the English people, though they often feared him, learnt to love him, and were ready to follow him.
The Fight for the Scottish Crown. (Ch 24)
"Nemo me impune lacessit."
"Who dare meddle wi' me?"
[This is the Latin motto which accompanies the "thistle," the emblem of Scotland. It means, "No one can touch me with impunity." It is freely, but not incorrectly translated in the famous motto of the great Scottish family of the Campbells "Wha dare meddle wi' me?"]
We have seen how Edward led his armies into Wales; how he defeated and killed Llewelyn, the last of the Welsh princes, and how he added the twelve Welsh counties to the kingdom of England. It was, perhaps, not strange that when he had thus conquered one part of our island, he should turn his attention to another. Llewelyn was killed in the year 1282. In 1296, or fourteen years later, Edward was marching at the head of an English army into Scotland.
On the death of Alexander III., King of Scotland (1285), the next heir to the throne was a little girl named Margaret, grand-daughter of the late king, and daughter of Eric, King of Norway. Margaret, or as she was sometimes called, "The Fair Maid of Norway," was sent for, and she started from her home to become Queen of Scotland. But the child fell sick on the long voyage from Norway, and died ere the ship reached Scotland.
Then there came a terrible dispute. No fewer than thirteen persons claimed the crown of Scotland. Foremost among the claimants were two Norman barons, who held lands in both Scotland and England. One was John of Balliol, and the other was Robert Bruce. Balliol was Lord of Galloway in Scotland; Robert Bruce was Lord of Skelton in Yorkshire, and was also Lord of Annandale and Carrick in Scotland.
As no agreement could be come to as to who should become king of Scotland, it was at last decided to bring the matter before King Edward, and to ask him to decide. Edward heard the case and decided in favour of John Balliol, and so Balliol became King of Scotland. Edward now thought that a good time had come for making the Scottish king admit once for all the right of the King of England to be the feudal lord of the King of Scotland; and he commanded Balliol to do homage to him. Balliol was willing to do this, but the Scots would not allow him to yield, and at last he had to send a message to Edward refusing to admit his claim.
Edward's anger was roused. He summoned his army and marched northwards. Among the barons who followed him was Robert the Bruce, Lord of Skelton, Annandale, and Carrick, the, grandson of Robert Bruce, who had claimed the Scottish throne. Soon the royal army came to Berwick-on-Tweed, which was then a Scottish town. The townsmen refused to give up the city, and Edward attacked it with fury. Berwick was taken (1296), and thousands of the enemy were put to death. It was decided that the city should for the future belong to England, and from that time to this it has formed part of England. It has always been remembered, however, that it once was a part of Scotland, and so it became the custom, when speaking of the dominions of the King of England, to say, England, Ireland, and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed.
The English kings would have liked to say that they were Kings of England, Ireland, and Scotland, but they could never make themselves masters of Scotland, and the only bit of Scottish land which they were able to keep was the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. And so it was that instead of saying that they were kings of England, Ireland, and Scotland, they had to content themselves with saying that they were Kings of England, Ireland, and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed.
It was not till four hundred years after the death of Edward I. that the kings of England and Ireland could call themselves kings of Scotland also. Until a few years ago, at the beginning of the laws which were made by Parliament, and which had to do with England alone, and not with Scotland, it was written that the law was to be obeyed in England and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed.
But we must get back to King Edward and his army. The king was everywhere victorious. He beat the Scots in the great battle at Falkirk (1298), where the English archers, who afterwards became so famous, broke the ranks of the Scots with their flights of arrows. The English army got as far as Scone, and took thence the famous Stone, called "The Stone of Destiny,'" upon which the Kings of Scotland had always been crowned. Edward brought the stone to Westminster, where it was placed under the Coronation Chair built by his order for the King of England, and there we may see it to this day if we pay a visit to Westminster Abbey.
But defeat taught the Scots a good lesson which they were not slow to learn. Their quarrels were for a time put aside, and all Scotsmen began to join together against the English enemy.
It was at this time that a great leader arose among the Lowland Scots, a man whose name is justly famous throughout Scotland to this day. This leader was William Wallace. His courage, his skill, and his fierce hatred of the English, all helped to make him a great hero in the eyes of the Scots. He had the most wonderful adventures; his life was often in danger, but over and over again he surprised and defeated the English troops.
He did what was even more important than this. He put courage into the hearts of his countrymen, and he made them feel that it was a right and good thing to fight, and if necessary to die, for their country. A great Scotsman has written a wonderful book which contains the story of the adventures of William Wallace. Everyone should read this book. It is called "The Tales of a Grandfather" and it is written by Sir Walter Scott.
But despite the bravery of Wallace, there seemed little chance for Scotland as long as Edward I. was alive. Wallace himself was taken prisoner, sent to London, and put to death (1305), and Edward, though he had now grown old and feeble, marched with a great army towards Scotland determined to put down the Scots once more, and for all.
But the old man's strength was fast failing. He was carried in a litter as far as Cumberland, and reached a little place named Burghon-Sands, from which he could see Scotland. But here ended his journey and his life. He died before he could cross the border (1307).
The first Edward was a great and wise king, and had he lived Scotland would hardly have escaped conquest. But his death saved Scotland, for his son who came after him was as weak and unfortunate as his father was strong and successful.
Chapter 25. Edward II. -- "The Making of Scotland." 1307-1327.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Edward II: |
Edward II. (Ch 25)
"It is not easy to imagine a man more innocent and inoffensive than this unhappy king [Edward II.], nor a prince less fitted for governing that fierce and turbulent people subjected to his authority." -- Hume.
The reign of Edward II., son of Edward I., is not a pleasing one for an Englishman to read about. It is a story of bad government and violence and defeat.
It was a long reign, lasting from 1307 to 1327, and there is much that might be told about it, but we have only space here to speak at length of one great event for which it must be remembered.
We said in an earlier chapter that during the reigns of the three Edwards, we should find the story of "The Breaking of Wales," "The Making of Scotland," and "The Ruin of France" It was in the reign of Edward II. that the Making of Scotland took place.
We saw at the end of the last chapter how Edward I., angered at the resistance of the Scots, had marched northward with a great army, intending once more to subdue them. We saw how Edward died within sight of Scotland, and how that country was freed from fear of an attack by its greatest and most powerful enemy.
It is impossible to say what might have happened to Scotland had Edward I. lived long enough to lead his army into the country a second time. Edward was a brave and skilful soldier, and had already won great victories both in Wales and Scotland; but the man who came after him was as weak as Edward I. was strong. He was no soldier, and had neither the power nor the wish to lead armies in battle. It was a great gain to Scotland that the king against whom her people had now to fight was so different from the great King Edward.
But there was another thing which was even more fortunate for Scotland than the death of Edward I. We shall remember that when Margaret, the "Fair Maid of Norway," died, no fewer than thirteen persons came forward to claim the throne of Scotland. Among them were John Balliol, whom Edward had made king, and Robert Bruce.
We saw how, when Balliol had offended King Edward, the English king marched against him and drove him from his throne. We also saw how, when Wallace came forward to fight for his country, he in turn was attacked and defeated by Edward. Nor should we have forgotten how Robert the Bruce, the grandson of Robert Bruce of whom we read just above, was one of the barons who rode with the English king, and who fought against the Scots under his banner.
When, however, Balliol had been driven from the throne, and Wallace had been defeated and put to death, there came a change.
William Wallace, by his bravery and success, had put courage into the hearts of the Scots, and the idea of freeing their country altogether from the English, and from the power of the English king, had grown quickly among them. The time had come when Bruce could hope to claim the crown of Scotland, and he determined to do so. At first secretly, and then openly, he deserted the English party, and soon placed himself at the head of the Scots who had followed the brave William Wallace, and of all those who were ready to fight for Scotland against the English.
No sooner had Robert Bruce put himself at the head of the Scottish army, than the hopes of Scotland began to brighten. There is no name of which Scotsmen are more proud than that of Robert the Bruce, and rightly so: for he was indeed the man who did more than any other to free their country and to defeat their enemies. Bruce was a man of great strength and courage, tall and handsome, and skilled in all the arts of war. He had also learnt how to win the love and trust of the Scottish people. The history of Scotland is full of stories of the bravery and adventures of Robert the Bruce; and both Robert and Bruce have been favourite names in Scotland ever since the days of the great king.
Bannockburn. (Ch 25)
"And the best names that England knew
Claim'd in the death-prayer dismal due.
Yet mourn not, land of fame!
Though ne'er the leopards * on thy shield
Retreated from so sad a field
Since Norman William came.
Oft may thine annals justly boast.
Of battles stern by Scotland lost;
Grudge not her victory,
When for her free-born rights she strove
Rights dear to all who freedom love,
To none so dear as thee!" -- Scott: "Rokeby."
[Refers to the "Leopards" or "Lions" in the coat of arms of England.]
Thus we see that, on the death of Edward I., matters looked more hopeful for the Scots than they had done for a long time past. At first they feared lest the English army which lay upon the border should continue its march upon Edinburgh; but the new King of England, who cared little for success in war, gave up the task which his father had begun, and returned to London. He soon showed himself unfit to rule. He took as his friend and favourite an unworthy man, named Piers Gaveston. He loaded Gaveston with favours; nor was this all. He allowed Gaveston to insult the proud barons who had been faithful servants to Edward I., and who saw with anger the riches and the power which were being given to an upstart stranger.
A long quarrel followed, between the king and Gaveston on the one side, and the barons on the other, which ended at last in the death of Gaveston. The barons joined together, and by force compelled the king to dismiss his favourite from all his offices. Nor were they content with this. Some of the fiercest of the barons, led by the Earl of Warwick, seized Gaveston themselves and put him to death (1312).
But while the king and the barons were thus quarrelling between themselves, the government of England was going from bad to worse. Men ceased to fear the king or to obey his orders. Instead of fighting against the enemies of the country, the best soldiers in England were fighting against each other. Nothing was done to help the English soldiers in Scotland, and Robert Bruce was now fighting fiercely against them in every part. Town after town was taken from the English, till at last only the strong fortress of Stirling was left to them. The Governor of Stirling Castle, Sir Philip Mowbray, a brave soldier, sent a message to King Edward. "If you do not come and help me before midsummer," said he, "I must give up your castle to the Scottish king."
Then at last King Edward was forced for very shame to try and do something to save his last fortress in Scotland. He raised a great army, and the barons, eager to regain what Edward I. had won, came from all parts to follow the king. The first thing to do was to reach Stirling, where the brave Sir Philip Mowbray was shut up. But between the English border and Stirling Castle lay Robert the Bruce with his army. Soon the two armies came face to face. On the English side there were not less than 100,000 men, of whom 3,000 were clad in armour. Among them were the greatest nobles in England. King Edward himself was at the head of the army, but he was not a general like his father, and it would have been better for England if he had stayed behind.
The army of the Scots numbered 40,000 men. At their head were Robert the Bruce, James Douglas, and Randolph. There is no space here to tell the story of Douglas or Randolph, but we must not forget their names, for we shall find them very often when we come to read the history of Scotland. They were three brave and practised generals, and those whom they led were ready to follow them to the death.
The place at which the two armies met was the village of Bannockburn. It was on the 24th of June, in the year 1314, that the great battle which has made Bannockburn so famous was fought. A story is told of an adventure which befell Bruce the night before the battle, and which shows us what kind of man he was.
There was a knight among the English, called Sir Henry de Bohun, who thought this would be a good opportunity to gain great fame to himself, and put an end to the war, by killing King Robert. The king being poorly mounted, and having no lance, Bohun galloped on him suddenly and furiously, thinking, with his long spear, and his tall powerful horse, easily to bear him down to the ground.
King Robert saw him, and permitted him to come very near; then suddenly turned his pony a little to one side, so that Sir Henry missed him with the lance-point, and was in the act of being carried past him by the career of his horse. But as he passed, King Robert rose up in his stirrups, and struck Sir Henry so terrible a blow on the head with his battle-axe that it broke to pieces his iron helmet as if it had been a nutshell, and hurled him from his saddle. He was dead before he reached the ground.
This gallant action was blamed by the Scottish leaders, who thought Bruce ought not to have exposed himself to so much danger, when the safety of the whole army depended on him. The king only kept looking at his weapon, which was injured by the force of the blow, and said, "I have broken my good battle-axe." [Part of the account on this page is taken from Sir Walter Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather."]
The next day, the 24th of June, the battle began. The English archers rained arrows upon the enemy, but the Scottish horsemen rode in among their ranks, cut them down, and dispersed them. Then the English horsemen came on at the charge, and they, too, soon fell into confusion.
The night before the battle, the Scottish king had given orders that steel spikes, or caltrops, as they were called, should be scattered about on the grass, and that pits should be dug. As the heavily-armed English Horse came on at full speed, their feet were pierced by the caltrops, and they fell headlong into the pits which had been prepared.
While the troops were in confusion, the Scots fell upon them, and soon it was clear that the battle was lost for the English. The king himself turned and fled. With great difficulty he reached the sea at Dunbar, after riding sixty miles at full speed. Thirty thousand of the English were killed, and all the waggons of provisions belonging to the English army fell into the hands of the Scots. It was a great defeat for England, and a great victory for Scotland.
From that time forward Robert Bruce was hailed by all as King of Scotland; and from his time down to the reign of James VI. of Scotland (three hundred years) the kingdom of Scotland held its own against all enemies. Nor did Scotland ever again come under a foreign king.
When King James VI. left Scotland it was only to go to England, there to reign as King of England as well as of Scotland; and ever since the happy day when England and Scotland became united together under one king, the two countries have been but one not because one country had beaten the other in war, but because the people in both were agreed that "in union there is strength" [James VI. of Scotland became James I. of Great Britain and Ireland in the year 1603.]
The reign of Edward II. was as unfortunate for the king himself as it was for his country. He quarrelled again and again with the barons and at last he was taken prisoner by them, deprived of his crown, and shut up in Berkeley Castle (1327). There he was cruelly murdered; but there were few among his subjects who regretted that this weak and unwise king had been driven from his throne.
Chapter 26. Edward III. -- "The Ruin of France." 1327-1377.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Edward III: |
The Beginning of the Great War. (Ch 26)
"Fly, countrymen and citizens of France!
Sweet-flow'ring peace, the root of happy life,
Is quite abandon'd and expuls'd the land:
Instead of whom ransack-constraining war
Sits raven like upon your houses' tops:
Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets,
And, unrestrain'd make havoc as they pass."
-- From the Play of "Richard III," written about 1596.
This chapter is entitled "The Ruin of France" because it tells us of the beginning of the great war which lasted for one hundred years, and which brought ruin and desolation to France. Those who lived at the time tell us of the misery which the French people went through; how their fields were laid waste, how their houses were burned down, how thousands were killed in battle, and how many thousands more died of the famine which followed the laying waste of the fields.
But though the story tells us of the ruin of France, it tells us also of one very good thing that happened to the French people during these long years of war and suffering. It often happens that out of evil there comes good, and so it was in this case. For many years before the reign of Edward III., the French people had fought amongst themselves, and the kingdom of France had been divided up into a number of small divisions -- kingdoms, duchies, and counties each under a separate king, or duke, or count.
In the case of Normandy, the duke had been not only an enemy to the King of France, but was himself King of England. The dukes of Burgundy and Berry were rivals of the King of France; and though, at the time of Edward II.'s death, Normandy no longer formed part of the dominion of the English king, yet a great piece of the south of France, called Guienne, was still claimed by the King of England.
The wise reign of Louis IX., whose death took place in 1270, when Henry III. was King of England, had done much to strengthen and unite France; but much more had to be done before France became a really united nation. It was only when the French people were obliged to fight for their lives and their liberties against the foreign armies of Edward III. and Henry V. of England, that they really began to understand that all quarrels at home must be set aside until the foreign enemies had been driven out of France. We shall see, when we come to the reign of Henry VI. how they did at last put aside all their quarrels, and did succeed in turning the English out of France.
Now we must see how it came about that the French began to learn this lesson in the reign of Edward III. The reign of Edward II. was taken up, as we know, with the Scottish war. The English barons had never forgiven the Scots for the defeat at Bannockburn, and by the time Edward III. had come to the throne they were ready and willing once more to march into Scotland. Robert Bruce was dead (1329), and his son David had neither the courage nor the wisdom of his father. Edward Balliol, son of John Balliol, who, as we may remember, was king before Robert Bruce, made his way into Scotland and attacked David Bruce. David fled and Balliol was declared king.
But he did not long remain king. He was unwise enough to promise to do homage to Edward III. The Scots could not forgive him for this, and he in his turn was driven from the throne. All these quarrels and misfortunes in Scotland had given a great advantage to the English, and when Edward III. again crossed the border it seemed as if he were going to repeat the victories of his grandfather, Edward I. Indeed, there can be little doubt that if England had only had to fight Scotland at this time, Scotland would soon have lost all that it had won at Bannockburn.
But fortune favoured Scotland. It was at this time that a quarrel broke out between England and France, and Edward had to turn his attention to a more dangerous enemy than David Bruce. Both sides were ready to quarrel, and so it was not hard to find an excuse. The King of France declared that the Scots were his allies, and that he was bound to help them. King Edward replied that the Scots were his enemies, and that if the French helped them, they were his enemies too; and what was more, he said that if right were done, he himself ought to be King of France, and not Philip, who then sat upon the French throne.
It matters little nowadays what were the rights or the wrongs of the quarrel. Both sides were ready for the fight, and if one excuse had not been enough, they would soon have found another.
Crecy. (Ch 26)
"Lances in rest; Advance banners; Archers, bend your bows; cry, 'St. George for England!'"
The war began. French ships took English merchantmen in the Channel. Edward sent out an English fleet, and for the first time English sailors beat the French at sea. Then Edward crossed over to France with an army of 30,000 men, and landed at La Hogue. He intended to march into Flanders, where he hoped to find his allies, but he was only able to advance with great difficulty, and he lost many men from sickness or in battle.
At last he reached a little village called Crecy, which we shall see marked on the map. Here he halted his army, hoping to receive help from his allies. But the King of France was close by with a large army. At the head of no less than 120,000 men, he marched rapidly from Abbeville towards Crecy. The English soldiers, who were about 20,000 in number, were drawn up in order by the king. They were in three divisions, one of which was in command of Edward, Prince of Wales (eldest son of the king), who was at this time only sixteen years old.
It was the 26th of August, 1346. The king, mounted on a white horse, rode through the ranks early in the morning, cheering up his men, and telling them how great would be the glory if they gained the victory over this great French army.
By this time the French were getting nearer. When they came within a few miles of Crecy, Philip sent on an officer to find out where the English army was, and how it was arranged. The officer came back and said that the English were in good order, and had had time to rest. It would be better, he thought, to wait a day and let the French soldiers rest too. Philip commanded his army to halt, but the French soldiers, who believed that they would easily beat the small army before them, pressed on to the attack.
The battle began between the archers. The French had with them 15,000 Italian soldiers from Genoa, armed with crossbows. On the English side, the archers were armed with the long-bow. It is said that just before the battle, a great thunderstorm took place, and that the bows of the Genoese, who had been marching as fast as they could to get to the field of battle, got wetted with the rain. When they were thus wetted, the strings became slack, and the bow would no longer shoot as hard and as straight as it did before. The English archers, on the other hand, had kept their long-bows dry in their cases. After the storm was over, the bows were drawn forth, and they shot as strong and as true as ever. It was soon seen that on this day, at any rate, the long-bow was a better weapon than the cross-bow.
The English archers shot so fast that, as an Italian who wrote an account of the battle says, "It seemed to snow." The Genoese could bear it no longer; they cut their bow-strings, threw away their bows, and turned to fly. As they fled, they broke in amongst the French horsemen, and all was confusion. Then the French cavalry came under the storm of arrows, and many of them fell pierced even through their armour. As they fell from their horses, the Cornish men and Welshmen who were with King Edward stabbed them on the ground. When the French king saw that his archers had given way, he ordered his knights to charge, and a great battle took place between the knights and men in armour on both sides.
In the middle of this fight was the Black Prince. He fought bravely, and was in great danger of his life. So great was his danger, that the Earl of Warwick sent a messenger to King Edward begging him for help. "Is my son dead?" said the king. "Not so," replied the messenger, "but he needs help" "Nay, then," said the king, "he has no aid from me. Tell him that I know that he will bear him like a man, and show himself worthy of his knighthood." The prince did indeed show himself worthy of his knighthood, for at last he and those who were with him succeeded in putting to flight the French and making victory certain.
King Philip himself rode full speed from the field of battle. It was dark when he reached the castle of Broye. He blew with his horn at the castle gate. The warder on the castle walls called out into the darkness, "Who comes there on such a night?" "It is the Fortune of France," said the king; and almost alone, "Philip the Fortunate," for so men had called him, escaped with bare life from the field of Crecy.
A Chapter of Victories. (Ch 26)
"Telling me--
It was great pity, so it was,
That villainous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier."
-- Shakespeare: "King Henry IV.," Part I.
The story of the battle of Crecy has been told at some length for several reasons. In the first place, Crecy was a very great and memorable fight, of which Englishmen have a real right to be proud. The French lost on that day two kings -- the Kings of Majorca and Bohemia -- 11 princes, 80 bannerets, 1,200 knights, and 30,000 men. In the second place, the success which Edward won on the field of Crecy no doubt encouraged him to go on with the cruel war which for a hundred years made England and France bitter enemies.
And, lastly, there is one other thing which makes Crecy very memorable among the many battles of which history tells us. If we had been upon the battle-field of Crecy we should have heard all the fierce and terrible noises which are always to be heard upon a battle-field; the shouts of those who are fighting, the cries and groans of the wounded, the trampling of the horses, and the clash of arms.
But at Crecy we should have heard another sound, different from all these other noises, a sound which was not heard at Hastings, at Bannockburn, nor at any of the great battles which had already taken place in the history of England. We should have heard a loud, deep report, which came from neither man nor horse. It was not the sound of charging cavalry, nor yet that of the clash of steel.
What was this sound? It was the thunder of the Cannon, heard for the first time in any battle in which English soldiers were engaged. For the first time, at the battle of Crecy, the gunpowder which some say Roger Bacon, an English monk, first showed English people the use of, and which was certainly quite new to the world, was used in cannon.
The cannons were small, weak affairs, made of wood, hooped with iron. The balls which they threw were scarcely larger than a cricketball, and no doubt the long-bow and the broad-sword killed many hundreds more at the battle of Crecy than did the cannon.
But from that day onwards the power of gunpowder began to grow greater than that of the long-bow and the broad-sword, until at last in our own day the arrow is forgotten, and the sword has become little more than an ornament.
The great thing to remember about the use of gunpowder is not that more people have been killed in battle since gunpowder was used -- for indeed, it is probable that quite as many men were killed in the old battles as in the battles which are fought now -- but that gunpowder did this: it made the weak equal to the strong, and the small equal to the great.
No amount of strength will protect a man against a rifle bullet or a cannon shot, and a rifle will shoot quite as hard if it be held by a small and a weak man as when it is held by a giant. We shall see, as we read our English history, how, from the time of the battle of Crecy, the knights in armour, who had been masters of all the world up to that time, gradually lost their power as their strength and their armour ceased to protect them.
Crecy, however, was not the only great victory which was won by the English during the reign of King Edward III. In the year 1333 King Edward defeated the Scottish army at Halidon Hill. In 1340, seven years later, an English fleet defeated a French fleet at Sluys, off the coast of Flanders, or Belgium as we now call it. In 1347, after the battle of Crecy, King Edward took the town of Calais, after a siege which lasted twelve months; and in 1356 a great victory was won by the English over the French at Poitiers, in which John, King of France, was taken prisoner. In 1360 peace was at last made with France at Bretigny, but the terms of the peace were not kept to by either side, and the war went on.
The reign of Edward III. was a very splendid one, if we think only of the victories which were won by English armies under his command. It is quite right to be proud of these victories, for they were won by our forefathers against great odds, and every Englishman should be proud that he belongs to the same race that won the victories of Crecy and Poitiers. We, however, must not forget that the war was a cruel and perhaps a useless one. A very large part of France was ruined and laid waste, and England too was much weakened by the loss of men and money. But while we regret the war, we can still admire the courage and skill of King Edward and of his warlike son, the Black Prince. King Edward III. was certainly one of the greatest of our kings. The king died in the year 1377, in the fifty-first year of his reign.
Chapter 27. Richard II. 1377-1399.
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Principal events during the reign of Richard II: |
Wat Tyler. (Ch 27)
"And you, that love the Commons, follow me.
Now show yourselves men: 'tis for liberty.
We will not leave one lord, one gentleman:
Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon,
For they are thrifty honest men, and such
As would (but that they dare not) take our parts."
-- "King Henry VI., Part II."
Richard II. came to the throne after the death of Edward III. He was the grandson of Edward III. and son of Edward the Black Prince, who died before his father.
King Richard was an unfortunate and an unwise king, and his life ended in misery and disgrace. There is not room here to tell the story of his reign at great length, but there were one or two very important things that happened in it which cannot be left out.
Richard was only eleven years old when he came to the throne. The most powerful man in the country was the king's uncle, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the fourth son of King Edward III. The king had two other uncles, The Duke of York, and The Duke of Gloucester. The three brothers, John of Gaunt, Edmund of York, and Thomas of Gloucester, played a great part in the story of Richard's reign.
One of the most remarkable events which took place in the reign of Richard II. was the rebellion which was got up by Wat Tyler (1381). We shall remember that during the reign of Edward III. there had been much fighting between England and France, and between England and Scotland. These long wars had cost much money, and heavy taxes had to be raised to pay for them. The people were poor, and they found these taxes very burdensome. One tax in particular was most unpopular. This was the Poll Tax, which was a tax of twelve pence upon every head or "poll" in the country; that is to say, it had to be paid by every person over fifteen years of age. Twelve pence does not seem very much nowadays, but in the time of Richard II. twelve pence was worth as much as eighteen shillings in our time. The collection of the Poll Tax gave rise to great discontent, and at last led to open rebellion.
[By 2016 US standards, that would be a few hundred dollars, depending on how it's assessed with inflation. https://www.measuringworth.com/]
One day the tax-collector came to the house of a man named Walter the Tiler, or "Wat Tyler" as he was called, who lived in the town of Dartford in Kent. He asked Wat Tyler to pay a heavy tax, and at the same time added to Wat's anger by insulting his daughter. In a fury Wat knocked the man down and killed him. The townspeople approved the deed, and soon the news of it spread far and wide, and all those who were discontented praised the Tiler of Dartford for what he had done. Soon, from all the southern and eastern counties of England the people began to gather together, and at last in a great body, 60,000 strong, they set off to march to London. Wat Tyler was put at the head of the people's army, and he led them to Blackheath, which is close to London. By this time there were no less than 100,000 men gathered together. The king and his court, and all the wealthy people of London, were greatly alarmed, especially when they heard that Wat Tyler and his friends had declared that they would upset the Government, take all they wanted from the rich, and divide what they took among the poor.
Although the followers of Wat Tyler had much to complain of, and they did some violent things, they were not all robbers and plunderers, as the people of London thought they were; many of them were honest men who really wanted to get right done to them, and they believed that the king was on their side and would help them. They asked for four things: 1. That they should no longer be made slaves to any man, nor be compelled to give their work without payment. 2. That the rent of the land they lived upon should be paid in money, and that they should no longer be compelled, as they often were, to do work as payment for their rent. They frequently found that the work which they were made to do was really worth much more than the rent which they owed. 3. That they should be free to buy and sell where they liked, and to take their goods freely to market. 4. That none of them should be punished for what they had done since the rebellion began.
The king met the people, and gladly promised to grant these things if they would go home. Most of them were content with the promise, and many went home; but Wat Tyler and Jack Straw, another leader, and some of the worst men among them, would not go home. They marched to London; they got possession of the Tower of London; they threatened the king's mother.
Richard himself rode out to meet them. He found them in front of St. Bartholomew's Church in Smithfield. There were 20,000 men, and Wat Tyler was at the head of them. Wat Tyler went up to the king, bidding his followers stay till he gave them a sign; they were then to come forward and kill all but the king. "He is young" said Wat Tyler; "we can do with him as we please; we will lead him with us all about England, and so shall we be lords of the kingdom without doubt."
As Wat Tyler was speaking to the king, there came up Sir William Walworth, Mayor of London, with twelve horsemen. He was angry with Wat Tyler, and he cried out, "Ha! thou knave; darest thou speak such words in the king's presence?" Tyler made a sharp answer, and Walworth at once killed him with his sword. At first it seemed as if the crowd would avenge the death of their leader. "They have killed our captain," they cried, and they bent their bows. Then Richard with great courage and readiness rode forward, saying, "Sirs, what aileth you? I will be your leader and captain. Follow me, for I am your king." The people, pleased with Richard's courage, did what he bade them, and soon dispersed again to their own homes. And thus came to an end what seemed at one time to be a very dangerous rebellion. As to the promises which the king had made, some were fulfilled; but most of them, unfortunately, were broken and forgotten.
The end of Richard's reign was less happy than the beginning. He was a mere child when he came to the throne, and during his early years he had submitted to be ruled by his uncle, John, Duke of Lancaster, commonly known as John of Gaunt. But after Wat Tyler's rebellion had been put down, Richard, who had reached the age of manhood, determined to take the reins of government in his own hands. He found little difficulty in carrying out his resolves, for John of Gaunt, while governing in the king's name, had made himself unpopular in the country. The king appointed new ministers chosen from among his own friends. The chief of the new ministers was Michael de la Pole, who received the title of Earl of Suffolk. Richard further strengthened his own position by his marriage with Anne of Bohemia, daughter of the emperor. John of Gaunt, deprived of Richard's favour, was compelled to take refuge in flight, and the king seemed for the time to be master of the situation. But the departure of the Duke of Lancaster had really only left the field open to his brother Thomas, Duke of Gloucester. Thomas, who it will be remembered was the youngest son of King Edward III. was greatly offended at the king's choosing De la Pole as his minister. De la Pole had been a merchant and did not belong to one of the great families of the nobles, and Thomas was easily able to persuade his friends among the nobility that their rights and their power were likely to be endangered if such persons as the Earl of Suffolk were allowed to hold the highest offices in the kingdom.
The Banishment of Bolingbroke. (Ch 27)
"Herald: Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,
On pain to be found false and recreant,
To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king, and him;
And dares him to set forward to the fight."
-- Shakespeare: "King Richard II."
It was not long before a party was formed among the nobles. At the head of it was Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, and its leaders were the Earls of Warwick, Arundel, and Nottingham, and Henry of Bolingbroke, son of John of Gaunt. The first step taken by the new party was to "appeal" the king's ministers of treason, [To charge them with being guilty of high treason.] and hence they came to be called "Lords Appellant." They took up arms to enforce their claims, seized the king, and called together a Parliament, the members of which they knew would be favourable to their cause. The Earl of Suffolk fled from the country, several of the ministers were put to death, and the king was compelled for a time to bow to the storm which he could not resist. It was not long, however, before he found an opportunity of avenging the insult which had been put upon him. In the year 1387 he reached the age of twenty-one, and he soon showed that he was determined to prove to all the world that he had come of age and could act for himself.
One day as he sat in his great Council he turned to his uncle the Duke of Gloucester, with these words, "How old do you think I am?" "Your Highness," replied the duke, "you are in your twenty-second year." "Then" said the king, "I surely am old enough to manage my own concerns. I have been longer under the control of guardians than any ward in my dominions. I thank you, my Lords, for your past services, but I require them no longer."
[A ward is a minor; a person under the age of 21.]
Richard was not long in giving effect to his words. The Duke of Gloucester and the other Lords Appellant were dismissed from their offices, and a king once more chose his own ministers from among his own friends.
Queen Anne had died in the year 1394, and Richard now further strengthened his position by a marriage with Isabella, daughter of King Charles VI. of France (1396). The marriage was not popular among the English people, but it proved an advantage to the king because it insured, for the time at any rate, peace with France and left the King free to deal with his enemies at home.
For a time Richard seemed content with the victory he had won, but in reality he was only waiting until he should be strong enough to punish the man who had so grievously offended him. He was content to wait ten years until his opportunity came; but in the year 1397 he struck the blow he had so long intended. Gloucester, Arundel, and Warwick were charged with plotting a new rebellion. Arundel was beheaded, Gloucester was thrown into prison and murdered while there, Warwick was banished. For a time it seemed as if Bolingbroke and Nottingham would escape. The king even showed them special favour, and made the one Duke of Hereford, and the other Duke of Norfolk. But he had not forgotten his grudge, and he skilfully contrived a quarrel between the two dukes. It was decided that after the custom of the times the quarrel should be settled by a fight between the two parties, and arrangements were made for a tournament to be held in the presence of the king at which the Dukes of Hereford and Norfolk were to meet in single combat. At the last moment, however, and just as the two combatants had entered the lists, the king threw down his staff between them, and ordered the heralds to stop the fight. This done, he sentenced Norfolk to banishment for life, and Hereford to banishment for ten years.
It seemed at length as if the king had freed himself from all his enemies, but, as events showed, this was far from being the case. The Duke of Gloucester and the Earl of Arundel were dead, and "dead men tell no tales" and do no mischief, but Bolingbroke, though banished from the country, was still alive and eager to regain the power he had lost, and the estates from which his father, John of Gaunt, and he had been driven.
Before long a favourable opportunity arose. In the year 1399 Richard started at the head of an expedition to Ireland. English rule in that country was threatened by an armed rebellion, and the king determined to go over himself to restore order. But in those days a voyage to Ireland was often a matter of many days, and the king, once on the other side of the Irish Channel, soon lost his power over the government in London. His enemies at once saw that the time had come when they might safely return and claim their own again.
While Richard was still in Ireland, Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, landed at Eavenspur in Yorkshire. At first he declared that he sought nothing but the restoration of his father's estates, but success soon taught him to claim a still greater prize. He was joined by the Earl of Northumberland, and by his son Henry Percy, known on account of his hasty and impetuous character as "Harry Hotspur." He soon was surrounded by a considerable army. The news of this fresh rebellion reached Richard in Ireland and he hastened to return. But the wind was contrary, and many days passed before he was able to set up his standard in England. It was then too late, and his enemies were too powerful to be resisted.
Despairing of success, he gave himself up to the Earl of Northumberland, and shortly after, yielding to the threats of his enemies, he consented to abdicate the crown in the hope of saving his own life. Parliament was persuaded to declare that the claim of Henry Bolingbroke to the crown of England was a good one, and to proclaim him King. Richard was confined a close prisoner in Pontefract Castle, and there, he was murdered. For a long time after his death many people believed that he was still alive, and that he would one day return and take the crown. Nor were all doubts removed when the new king, anxious to prove to all men that his rival was no longer to be feared, caused the body of Richard to be brought up from Pontefract and publicly exhibited to the people of London. There were still some who said that the body was not that of the king, but of some person who resembled him. But as time passed on, the fact of Richard's death ceased to be disputed, and there can indeed be no doubt that he was put to death shortly after his imprisonment in Pontefract Castle. He ceased to reign in the twenty-third year after his accession to the crown.
Geoffrey Chaucer. (Ch 27)
"Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,
On Fame's eternal bead roll Worthie to be fyled."
-- Spenser: "Faerie Queene"
There are three things that we must bear in mind when we read of the reign of Richard II., for they are all of great importance in English history.
About the year 1328, fifty years before Richard came to the throne, there was born Geoffrey Chaucer, the first great English poet. The name of Chaucer will always be remembered, for two reasons. First, he was a real and great poet, whose best known poem "The Canterbury Tales" is still read with pleasure by thousands of Englishmen.
In the poem we read how a number of travellers met on their way to the tomb of Thomas A' Becket at Canterbury. They met at an inn, and as they ride along the road together they tell each other stories, and give an account of their adventures. There are a Sailor, a Farmer, a Priest, the Landlord of the inn, a Soldier or Knight, a Student, and many others. Their stories are very amusing, and they are also very interesting, because we learn from them just how people lived, what they thought and talked about, how they dressed, how they made their money, and how they spent their money five hundred years ago. We can learn a great deal more history from the stories in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" than we can from many history books. We see that there is every reason for remembering Chaucer, because he was a great poet.
The other reason for which he must be remembered is that he was really the first great writer who wrote English in the way in which we now speak it. Before his time there were a great many people, chiefly the rich, the barons, and the courtiers, who talked French, or a language very like French. The poorer people, and most of the merchants and tradesmen, who were of Saxon families, talked English, but English very different from what we speak now, and when they wrote, they wrote in Anglo-Saxon, which we should find it very difficult to understand at the present time.
But gradually those who spoke French, and those who spoke Anglo-Saxon, got mixed up together, and as they got mixed up, the language they spoke also got mixed, and soon a new language came to be used, which was neither French nor Anglo-Saxon, but which was made up of both. This language was really the English Language which we talk now, and in which there are very many Norman and French words, and a still greater number of Saxon words.
This new language was spoken before Chaucer's time, but he was the first person to write it down in the form of poetry. When it was once written down, other people followed the example, and wrote in the same way, and thus began the writing of all those tens of thousands of English books which have been written and read in England since the time of Chaucer.
The Black Death -- John Wycliffe. (Ch 27)
"As thou these ashes, little brook! wilt bear
Into the Avon, Avon to the tide
Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas,
Into main ocean they, this deed accurst
An emblem yields to friends and enemies
How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified
By truths shall spread throughout the world dispersed."
-- Wordsworth: "To Wycliffe."
We said that there were three special things to be remembered about the reign of Richard II. One is the life and writings of Geoffrey Chaucer, the second is the "Black Death." The Black Death was a terrible sickness which spread over England and Ireland between the years 1348 and 1407. Thousands of people died of it in a very short time. It is said that over a million persons died of this terrible disease in England alone.
The third thing to be remembered is the life and death of John Wycliffe. John Wycliffe was born in Yorkshire in the year 1324. He was a great preacher and teacher of the people. Many of the priests at that time were bad and ignorant, and he preached against them, saying that men should live better lives, and that many of the things which the priests taught were untrue.
He had many followers, who were known as "Lollards." The great work for which Wycliffe is known is his translation of the Bible into English. This Bible was not the same as that which we use now, and very few copies of it were made, for in the time of Wycliffe nobody in England knew how to print books. But we must not forget that Wycliffe was the first English translator of the Bible. Wycliffe died in 1384, and was buried at Lutterworth, in Leicestershire.
After his death his bones were dug up and burnt by order of the Pope, and his ashes were thrown into the little river "Swift" which runs past Lutterworth. But though Wycliffe was dead, and his bones burnt, the work he had done was not forgotten.
His ashes were thrown into the Swift, the Swift bore them into the Avon, the Avon to the Severn, the Severn to the Sea, and the Sea to the Wide World; so has his name been carried down in English history, till it has become one which all readers of English history throughout the world now know and are proud of.
Chapter 28. Henry IV. 1399-1413.
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Principal events during the reign of Henry IV: |
A Troubled Reign. (Ch 28)
"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
-- Shakespeare: "Henry IV." Part II.
The reign of Henry IV. is an interesting and important one, and for several reasons. In the first place it must be remembered that Henry was not the true heir to the throne, and that he had by force dethroned and imprisoned Richard, the rightful king, and indeed after Richard's death it was not Henry but the descendants of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, who, by the law and custom of England, ought to have succeeded to the crown. One of these descendants was living. His name was Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, who was the great-grandson of Lionel, Duke of Clarence. Henry knew well that his own claim was not a good one, and it was for this reason that he made haste to call together a Parliament, and to get from it a declaration that he was the true heir. Parliament could not indeed alter the fact, but it could do much to strengthen the hands of the new king by giving him its support.
But Parliament did not give its support for nothing. Over and over again during King Henry's reign Parliament made demands upon the king, which he granted because he knew that his power depended not upon his own good title, but upon the support of Parliament. He thus did many things which he would certainly never have done had he felt himself quite firm upon his throne, and Parliament gained more power during his reign than it had possessed for many years past.
The reign of Henry IV. is interesting for another reason. As we have just read, he was not the true heir to the crown, and he lived in constant fear of losing in war what he had won by war. By his skill and bravery he gained a victory over his various enemies at home, and was able to hand on the crown to his son. But he was never free from the fear of civil war, and we shall see that in the end this fear of war at home led his son to begin a war abroad which he thought would turn people's minds away from the questions which had led to so much quarrelling at home. There seems little doubt that the long war with France, which began in the reign of Henry's son, was in a great part owing to the uncertain title by which King Henry held his crown.
It was indeed not long before civil war broke out again in England, and Henry, who had attacked and defeated Richard, the lawful king, now found himself attacked in turn in more than one quarter. Within a few months of his coronation a rising took place on behalf of King Richard, but Henry easily put it down, and the Earls of Kent and Huntingdon, who were the rebel leaders, were taken and executed.
The next rebellion was a more serious one. It began in Wales, where a Welsh gentleman named Owen Glendower, a former follower of King Richard, put himself at the head of an army, and declared himself Prince of Wales and crossed the English border. With the Welsh alone it would not have been difficult to deal, although Glendower proved himself a formidable leader, and the skill with which he escaped pursuit earned for him among the English soldiers the name of "The Magician." But matters became much more serious when the Scots, in their turn, rose on behalf of King Richard who, they declared, was still alive. Luckily the English Parliament was still in a good humour with the king, and sufficient money was found to put an army into the field. An English force under the Earl of Northumberland, and his son Harry Percy, or "Hotspur" met the Scots and totally defeated them at the battle of Homildon Hill in Northumberland (1402), and the famous Earl of Douglas was taken a prisoner by Hotspur.
But out of the victory grew yet another trouble for the king. Henry ordered Hotspur to hand over his prisoner Douglas to him, but this Hotspur refused to do, and the quarrel between the king and the great house of Northumberland soon became so bitter that at last the Percies, with their prisoner Douglas, openly joined a party of rebels, and made common cause with Owen Glendower and with Edmund Mortimer, uncle of the Earl of March, who had now become an ally of the Welsh leader, and had given him his daughter in marriage. With all these enemies arrayed against it, the royal cause seemed to be in great danger. Fortunately for Henry, his enemies were divided in their councils, and had not really all the same end in view. Fortunately, also, the people of England were not very eager to support the party which had among its leaders a Welsh chief and a Scottish earl both long known as bitter enemies of England, and which received help from France, sent by Queen Isabella, the widow of Richard II.
The king advanced against the rebels, who at once declared Edmund Mortimer, the young Earl of March, to be the true king, and prepared to maintain their cause in battle. Like a good general, Henry managed to meet his enemies before they could unite their forces. He attacked the army of the Percies at Shrewsbury (1403) before Glendower with his Welsh troops could come up. The battle ended in the entire defeat of the rebel army. Hotspur was killed and Douglas was taken prisoner. The loss on both sides was very great, and included very many gentlemen of name.
[Edmund Mortimer, the young Earl of March, was at this time only a boy of eleven years of age. If we look at the table on page 266, we shall see that he was the true heir to the crown, his father, Roger Mortimer, having been killed in the year 1398. His title came to him through Philippa, the daughter of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, who, as we have seen, was the third son of Edward III. His title was clearly a better one than that of the descendants of John of Gaunt, or of Edmund, Duke of York.]
But even after this success the troubles of King Henry were by no means over. The Earl of Northumberland was pardoned, but both the Scots and the Welsh remained in arms; and the French, taking full advantage of the disturbed state of England, made fierce attacks upon the coast. Jersey and Guernsey were taken by them. A French expedition landed in Plymouth Sound and burnt the town of Plymouth. Another expedition landed in the Isle of Wight. The English in their turn sent out ships to attack the French coast, and there was fierce fighting all down the Channel. The Scots were still threatening, but the danger from that quarter was diminished by the capture of James, the heir to the crown of Scotland. The young prince was on his way to France when the ship which bore him stopped off Flamborough Head. He was taken from the ship, made prisoner (1405) by order of King Henry and brought to London, where he was kept till the end of Henry's reign.
From this time forward the dangers which threatened the king grew less. Not that the civil war was by any means over. Northumberland, though he had been pardoned and received into favour, had by no means forgotten his old quarrel. He escaped to Wales from Scotland, and shortly afterwards reappeared in the north of England at the head of an army. He was, however, met by the royal troops and defeated at Bramham Moor, near Arthington, in Yorkshire (1408), and was killed in the battle. The French continued to attack England, and a French fleet, sailing into Milford Haven, brought aid to the Welsh under Glendower. For a time this strange alliance between Welshmen and Frenchmen baffled the royal troops, but not for long. The command of the army in Wales was given to the king's eldest son, young Henry of Monmouth, who showed, in the war that followed, the bravery and some of the military skill which afterwards made him famous as a victor in the great battle of Agincourt.
In the year 1409 the struggle ended, the Welsh were defeated, and the country compelled to submit to the English rule. The French were no longer able to do mischief, for France itself was distracted by civil war and had no time for interfering with the affairs of other countries. It seemed as if at last Henry had obtained rest and peace, but the rest he had so hardly won he was not able to enjoy. He was attacked by the terrible disease of leprosy, and the last few years of his life were passed as a bedridden cripple. On the 20th of March, 1413, he died in a fit, in the Jerusalem Chamber, Westminster Abbey.
The story of his last moments is told in Shakespeare's play of Henry IV., Act iv., Scene 5, of the Second Part, which contains the famous scene of young Harry of Monmouth sitting by his father's bedside under the belief that the life of the old king had passed away, and placing on his own head the golden crown. But the king still lived, and with returning consciousness saw the act of his son, and rebuked him in the words which, as Shakespeare records them, are so dignified and touching.
The prince, starting at finding that his father is still alive, says:
"I never thought to hear you speak again."
Then the king answers him thus:
"Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought;
I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair,
That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine honours
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee."
Whether or not this strange scene really took place is not certain. It is doubtful, too, whether the story be true, which represents Henry of Monmouth, before he came to the throne, as a wild young man, keeping bad company and following lawless courses; it is certain, however, that the crown which Henry IV. had won by force, and had fought so hard to keep, passed on to his son without difficulty, and with the full agreement of the people of England.
Henry IV. was twice married. His first wife was Mary Bohun, daughter of the Earl of Hereford. She died in 1394. Nine years later, in 1403, Henry married Joanna, daughter of Charles, King of Navarre, who survived her husband.
One very evil thing in the reign of Henry IV. must be remembered. It was in his day that persecution for religion received special encouragement from the law. The teaching of Wycliffe had borne fruit, and there was a large party in the country who refused to believe all that was told them by the priests. They believed that the Church had become corrupt, and that great changes were needed. Those who held these views were known as Lollards. They soon aroused the enmity of the bishops, who gave them their name, and, who declaring that they were "tares" in the wheatfield, and must he rooted out, set to work to persecute them. At the request of the bishops, Parliament passed an Act * punishing the heretics, as the Lollards were called, with the penalty of death.
[Lollards, from the Dutch "lollard," a mumbler of prayers.]
[De Heretico Comburendo, or "Concerning the Burning of Heretics." From that day forward, and for many years, the wicked and cruel practice of burning men to death on account of their religious opinions was practised in England.]
Chapter 29. Henry V. 1413-1422.
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Principal events during Henry V: |
Agincourt. (Ch 29)
"Upon St. Crispin's day
Fought was this noble fray,
Which Fame did not delay
To England to carry;
O when shall English men,
With such acts fill a pen,
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry?"
-- Michael Drayton (1563-1631): "Ballad of Agincourt."
Henry V. stands out as an heroic figure in the history of England. During his lifetime he won the praise which is always accorded to the young, the successful, and the brave. His brilliant victory over the French made him a popular hero in his lifetime, and the misfortunes which overtook England after his death, under the feeble rule of his son, made men look back with regret to the "brave days of King Harry," and contrast the splendour of his rule with the humiliation and disaster of their own time. There was much in Henry's character to justify the admiration of his people. He was brave, open, and straightforward, and, above all, successful in war, but there can be little doubt that the country paid a great price for the glory which he won. In the fifteenth century England was a small and poor country compared with France, and the opportunity which enabled Henry to take advantage of the divisions among Frenchmen, and to make himself master for a time of half the kingdom of France, left England drained of men and money, and utterly unable to retain the prize which her soldiers had won.
But that Henry was popular, and indeed beloved, during his lifetime can scarcely be doubted, and he had no sooner ascended the throne than he gave ample proof of his desire to reign justly, and to put an end to those internal quarrels which during his father's lifetime had divided the kingdom. A story is told of Henry when he was still a young man, before he became king, which deserves to be remembered. It is said that one of the prince's gay companions was one day arrested for some brawl, and brought before Gascoigne, the Lord Chief Justice. The young prince, angry at his friend's capture, and believing that, as a son of the king and heir to the throne, he would be able to terrify the Chief Justice, appeared in the court, and, with threatening words, laid his hand upon his sword, and ordered the judge to release the prisoner.
But Gascoigne remembered that the law is no respecter of persons. So far from releasing the prisoner, he gave orders that Henry himself should be sent to gaol for daring to insult one of the king's judges. To prison, therefore, the prince went, according to the story, and to his credit it is said that, instead of blaming the act of the judge, he recognised the courage and wisdom which Gascoigne had shown. When King Henry IV. was told of what had happened, he said, "Happy is the king who possesses a judge so resolute in the discharge of his duty, and a son so willing to yield to the authority of the law."
One of the first acts of the new king on ascending the throne was to send for the Chief Justice, to assure him that he bore no ill-will towards him and to receive him into his favour.
Nor was this the only proof that he gave of his respect for the law. Unluckily, he extended his favour equally to bad as well as to good laws. We have seen how in the two previous reigns a sect known as the "Lollards" had grown up, and how the teaching of Wycliffe had fixed itself in the minds of many men. The archbishops and bishops fearing lest the teaching of the Lollards should diminish the power of the Pope and draw people away from the Church, had persuaded Henry IV. and his Parliament to pass a savage law by which "heretics" might be burned to death for their opinions. It was not long before Henry V. was persuaded in his turn to attack the Lollards, who soon found themselves the object of terrible persecutions. Sir John Oldcastle, afterwards known as Lord Cobham, was a man of distinction and a personal friend of the king's, but he was a Lollard, and had not hesitated to attack the Pope and the clergy, and to declare himself a follower of Wycliffe. He was tried and condemned, and imprisoned in the Tower, whence he managed to escape, but was at length recaptured, and was put to death, with many of his followers (1417).
There were, however, greater difficulties to be encountered at home than the enmity of the Lollards, and Henry well knew that the only way of escaping from the endless civil wars which had distracted the kingdom during his father's reign was to turn the thoughts and the weapons of Englishmen against a foreign enemy. From the outset he had determined upon a war with France. It was not hard to find a pretext, and whether the pretext were a good one or a bad one mattered little. As the heir to Edward III. he boldly claimed the crown of France. The French at that time, divided by internal quarrels, sought to avoid war, and offered him the hand of a French princess, the French province of Aquitaine, and a large sum of money in satisfaction of his claim.
But Henry would have all or none. He refused the offer and declared war. Parliament was summoned and voted money, and the Church, grateful for Henry's punishment of the Lollards, gave large sums towards the war. Whatever may be thought of the cause of the quarrel or of the consequences of the war, there can be no doubt that the campaign which now took place was one of which Englishmen may well be proud. An English army under an English king successfully invaded the kingdom of France, and though ill supplied, moving in an enemy's country, and confronted by great odds, achieved a victory which startled all Europe.
It was on the 25th October, 1415, [St. Crispin's Day.] that the two armies met in the battle which decided the campaign. The English army, exhausted with constant marching, ill-fed, and reduced in numbers, came upon the enemy close to the castle of Agincourt. The records of what took place upon that day are clear and certain, and they tell us of a victory more complete and more surprising than any which had ever been won by an English army over a civilised enemy. The two armies were most unequal in numbers. The French had 50,000, the English 15,000; and yet, rather than have cowards or unwilling men in his ranks, Henry bade all those who feared to risk their lives to go home before the fight began. The French loss amounted to 10,000 killed and 14,000 prisoners, that of the English to 1,500.
Some of the finest lines in Shakespeare are about King Henry and the battle of Agincourt.
The poet tells us how, the morning before the battle, the Earl of Westmoreland, seeing how small the English army was, exclaimed--
"'Oh! that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!'"
Then King Henry replies--
'What's he, that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? -- No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But, if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. Oh! do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he that hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian;
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home
Will stand a-tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
And say, 'To-morrow is St. Crispian';
Then will he strip his sleeve and shew his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,--
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,--
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered:
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."
In the city of Oxford there stands the famous College of All Souls, and in the chapel of the college there is a lofty screen covered with life-sized statues. The college and the chapel alike are memorials of the battle of Agincourt. It was in memory of those who fell on that famous field that the chapel was built, in order that perpetual prayers might be made, after the fashion of that time, for the souls of those who had fallen fighting for England. The stone figures which were put up in the time of Henry V. have been broken and destroyed, but in later days new statues have been erected in their places, and to this day the chapel of All Souls' College, Oxford, remains to commemorate the victory won on St. Crispin's day so many centuries ago.
A second campaign still further strengthened Henry's hold upon France. Normandy was taken, and in 1420 Henry married Catherine, daughter of the King of France, receiving a promise at the same time that he should succeed to the throne of France on the death of Charles VI. But a great nation like the French can never be long kept down under foreign conquerors, however powerful and however able.
No sooner had Henry returned to England than the war broke out again, and a third expedition had to be undertaken. To the last the king's good fortune stood him in good stead, and once more victory attended his arms; but the strain and exposure of his warlike life told upon the king's health. He fell sick, and on the 31st August, 1422, he died at the castle of Vincennes, close to Paris.
From the day of his death the English power in France, which his genius had maintained, steadily declined. The great kingdom which he had claimed and won melted away in the feeble grasp of his successor, till nothing remained to bear witness to his splendid military genius save the suffering of a wasted land, and the poverty of an exhausted people. Englishmen had yet to learn the lesson that it was as impossible for England to keep down and govern France, as it would be for Frenchmen to keep down and govern England.
Chapter 30. Henry VI. "The Freeing of France." 1422-1445.
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Principal events during the reign of Henry VI: |
[A marriage between the Dauphin Louis and the daughter of the King of Scotland was then under discussion. The Scottish king had promised to send aid to Charles VII.]
The "Maid of Orleans." (Ch 30)
"I have come to ask that I may be taken to the King; he cares not for me or my words; nevertheless, ere mid-Lent comes I must be before the King, even though I have to wear my legs to the knees in journeying to him. For no one in the world, neither King, nor Duke, nor Scottish Princess, I nor any other, can recover the Kingdom of France; nor is there any succour for it save me alone, though rather would I stay at home and spin by my poor mother's side . . . but go I must, because such is the wish of the Lord." -- Chronicle of Joan of Arc.
When Henry V. died, he was master of France. The English dominion covered the whole of the great piece which is marked on the map (p. 234), and after the battle of Agincourt it was no idle boast for a King of England to call himself King of France.
But what Henry V. won, Henry VI. lost, Henry VI., who came to the throne on his father's death, was but a child nine months old, his little head, too small to wear the crown of England, was crowned with his mother's bracelet. While the little Henry was king in name, his uncles, the Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester, together with Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, really had the kingly power, and were made "Regents" of the kingdom.
Henry's life was long and unhappy, a time of war and suffering. In the story of English history it will always be remembered as the reign in which we lost France. In the history of France it is remembered as the time of victory, a glorious time for the French people.
The most interesting person we have to do with in the reign of Henry VI. is neither the King of England nor the King of France, but a young French girl who was born and brought up far away from courts and palaces. In one of the chief streets of the great city of Paris there is a statue of this young girl. She is seated on a powerful war-horse, she is dressed in armour, and in her hand she holds a sword. Her name is one of the most honoured names in the whole of France. It is Joan of Arc, the peasant girl of Domremy, who saved her country.
The story of Joan can only be told very shortly here. Her father was a labourer, and Joan was employed during the day in looking after his sheep. Like many another young Frenchwoman of her time, she thought with sorrow of the misfortunes of her country, and longed to see it freed from its English enemies.
As she thought and dreamed of a better time, she fancied that an angel brought her a message that the happier time was coming, and that she was to take a part in bringing it about. She told the neighbours, and the neighbours laughed at her, but the neighbours were wrong and Joan was right; for, after all, her own heart had spoken to her truly, and she, the little shepherdess, was really going to do a great work for France.
She made up her mind that she would go straight to Charles, the King of France. The king was at Chinon. It was a long journey to get there, and many were the dangers which Joan had to encounter on the road; but at last she reached the king's court. She told him that she had come to save France: "and you," said she, "shall be crowned King of France in your own city of Rheims."
Now of this there seemed but little chance, for Rheims and its great Cathedral, in which the Kings of France were crowned, were in the hands of the English. The king smiled to see so strange a champion, but at last he was moved by Joan's earnest manner, and he ordered the learned men of his Court to ask her questions and to find out all about her, and about the wonderful message which she said had come to her from the angel.
The learned men soon found out that Joan, at any rate, was full of courage and hope, and the French soldiers, who had lost so many battles, needed courage and hope more than anything at that time. And so Joan was sent by order of the king to join the royal army, which was trying to raise the siege of the town of Orleans. She rode forth in full armour, mounted on a white horse. When she came among the soldiers, every man was moved by her courage and by her example, for she did not fear during the thickest part of the fight. Soon men began to believe that she was indeed specially sent by God to free the kingdom of France from its enemies. The spirits of the French rose whenever they saw her, while the English, on their side, were alarmed and perplexed.
Under Joan's leadership, the French army soon raised the siege of Orleans, defeated the English, and set free the French garrison of the town, who had long given up all hope of being rescued. From that time forward the fortunes of the English in France began to fail. In battle after battle they were defeated. Rheims was retaken, and Joan's promise came true. Charles was crowned King of France in the Cathedral (1429). But though Joan had saved her country, she did not save herself. In the year 1430 she was taken prisoner in a skirmish outside the town of Compiegne by the soldiers of the Duke of Burgundy.
The English paid 10,000 francs for the prisoner. And now a terrible event took place. Joan was accused of witchcraft, and it was said that she had used wicked arts to bewitch her enemies. She was thrown into prison, and was urged to confess her crime. Once she gave way to her tormentors, and confessed; but her courage soon came back to her, and she withdrew what she had said. She was sentenced to be imprisoned for life; but this did not satisfy her enemies, and they soon found an excuse for putting her on her trial once more. She was brought before the French Bishop of Beauvais, and was condemned by him to be burnt alive.
This terrible punishment was carried out on the 30th of May, 1431, and poor Joan was burnt to death in the market-place at Rouen, in Normandy. The square in which she was burnt is still known as "The Maiden's Square" (Place de la Pucelle), and Joan still lives in the memory of Frenchmen as "The Maid of Orleans" (La Pucelle d'Orleans). But though Joan's death was sorrowful, her great work had really been done. The English power in France had been broken for ever, and the long war of a hundred years, which had begun in the reign of Edward III., died out at last in the reign of Henry VI.
All English men and women should admire Joan of Arc, although she was the enemy of England, and helped to defeat its armies; for she was a brave and good woman, who set an example of love of country, which any Englishman or Englishwoman may be proud to follow.
Nor must we forget that though Henry VI., and those who lived in his time, thought that it was a great disgrace to be defeated, and lamented the loss of France, it was really and truly a most fortunate thing for England that she was at last freed from the necessity of trying to keep down the great French people. It was neither right nor possible that England should go on governing France. Just as Frenchmen could never really keep down Englishmen in their own country, so also it was impossible for Englishmen to keep down Frenchmen in France.
The Loss of France. (Ch 30)
"Montjoie St. Denis!"
[The battle cry of the Kings of France.]
But the failure of the English in France did not end with the death of Joan. Quarrels arose between the English and their French Burgundian allies. The Duke of Bedford, the best of the English generals, died in 1435. Paris, which it is strange to think had been long held by English troops and governed by an English governor, was lost. The gates were thrown open to Charles VII., and the King of France once more ruled in his own capital.
Maine, the Duchy of Normandy, and Guienne alone remained under the banner of "St. George," but even these had now to be abandoned. Maine was given up by treaty in 1444, a condition of the surrender being that the young English king should receive the hand of Margaret of Anjou in marriage. The truce that followed this settlement was but a short one, and five years later (1449) war broke out again. Disaster once more overtook the English armies, and after an overwhelming defeat at Formigny (1450), Normandy itself, the duchy from which the Kings of England had themselves sprung, and which had so long been an undisputed possession of the English crown, fell into the hands of the enemy.
It may easily be supposed that the loss of Normandy and the weakness which had led to it proved an encouragement to the forces of disorder in England, and the loss which the war had inflicted upon the people made it easy for an active man to stir up revolt in England itself. In 1450, the same year as the battle which decided the fate of Normandy, Jack Cade, a soldier of fortune, who had fought in the French wars, following the example of Wat Tyler in the days of Richard II., placed himself at the head of a force composed of discontented men, and marched with arms, followed by thousands from Kent and Sussex, against the City of London. Several of the king's officers were killed, and for a time it seemed as if the rebels would command the city. They had no common cause except that of the common suffering, and as their leader promised them the redress of all their grievances and hinted that they might also become masters of their neighbours' property, they were naturally eager to support so promising a cause.
But even the weak government of Henry VI. was strong enough to put down the rebellion of Jack Cade. Cade himself was taken and executed (1450) and his followers dispersed, but the fact that so formidable a movement came so near success shows how disturbed the country was, and how easy it would be for better known men than Jack Cade to light the fire of civil war.
Though a gleam of good fortune seemed to shine on King Henry when he succeeded in putting down Cade's rebellion, the dark cloud soon closed in again. In the year 1453 was lost the last of the great possessions of England across the Channel. After much fierce fighting, Bordeaux was taken, and the Province of Guienne fell into the hands of the French.
Thus it came about that within the short space of thirty-one years the power of England in France had melted away, and of all the great possessions in that country over which Henry V. had ruled there remained to England only Calais and a few small towns in the neighbourhood. The Channel Islands, part of the Duchy of Normandy, from which William the Conqueror came, fortunately retained their connection with England, and they remain to this day among the brightest ornaments of that crown with which their ruler, the Norman William, endowed the sovereigns of England, and which now adorns the brow of our British monarchs, who have no more loyal subjects than those who live in the Channel Islands.
Chapter 31. York and Lancaster. 1445-1455.
The Rival Houses.
"In a word, he [Henry VI.] would have adorned a cloister, though he disgraced a crown; and was rather respectable for those vices he wanted than for those virtues he possessed. He founded the colleges of Eton and Windsor, and King's College in Cambridge for those scholars who had begun their studies at Eton." -- Smollett.
The misfortunes which happened in France were not the only ones which befell our country in the reign of Henry VI. Unhappily, no sooner had war with a foreign enemy come to an end, than there began a "civil" war at home, in which Englishmen fought on both sides.
In order to understand this war, we must be quite clear about one or two things which helped to bring it about. King Henry VI. was the son of Henry V. and of his wife Catherine. Henry, as we shall remember, was descended from John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the fourth son of Edward III. He was therefore spoken of as belonging to The House of Lancaster. His mother, Catherine, who became a widow on the death of Henry V., wished to remain at Court and take care of the little king her son. But the king's uncles, the Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester, took so much power into their hands, that the queen found that she could very seldom get her own way, and could do very little. She therefore left the Court, and married a Welsh gentleman named Owen Tudor.
We must not forget the name of this Welsh gentleman; for though history tells us little about him, and though he never became very famous, the name of "Tudor" did become very famous in the history of England, and some of the greatest Sovereigns that England ever had were descended from this Owen Tudor.
When his mother, Catherine, went away, Henry was left in the power of his uncles. He was a dreamy, weak-minded boy, easily guided by others. His uncles thought that it would be a good thing to find him a clever and strong-minded wife, and they therefore arranged that he should marry Margaret of Anjou; Margaret, indeed, turned out to be as strong-minded and ambitious as anyone could wish.
Now we understand about three of the people who come into this story. There is Catherine, the mother of Henry VI., who first married Henry V., and then married Owen Tudor. Then there is Henry VI. himself, a king of the House of Lancaster. And lastly we have Henry's wife, Margaret of Anjou.
But there is another person about whom we must say something, namely, Richard, Duke of York. Richard, Duke of York, was, like Henry, himself a Plantagenet, and descended from both Lionel, Duke of Clarence, the second son of Edward III., and from Edmund Langley, Duke of York, fifth son of Edward III. He was spoken of as belonging to the House of York. All these relationships may seem rather puzzling, but they will become clearer if we look at the table on page 266. We ought to know something about them if we want to understand the story of these times.
It will be seen, therefore, that among the great families who claimed descent from Edward III. there were two parties, one represented by King Henry, the head of the House of Lancaster, the other by Richard, Duke of York, head of the House of York. Both sides, therefore, had a claim to the crown, and if anything, the claim of Richard, Duke of York, was the better of the two; but at that time, as at so many other times in the world's history, "might" seemed at least as powerful as "right," and the supporters of Richard were so many and so strong that, as we shall see, they were able to make good their title by force quite apart from the question of right.
How that war came about it is now easy to see. The country was indeed full of the materials which, if once a light be set to them, are sure to kindle into the fierce flames of civil war. In the first place, there was the king, a young man of feeble character, whose weak mind occasionally gave way altogether. His wife, Margaret of Anjou, possessed all the courage, the ambition, and the energy which her husband lacked. The early years of the king's reign had been years of foreign war, and in that war the country had suffered a great and, as many thought, a disgraceful defeat. The soldiers who had so long fought in France had returned in thousands to England, where they became a burden to the peaceful inhabitants from their turbulence; unfit for peaceful occupations, they were ready to take the first opportunity of serving under any leader who would promise them fighting and plunder.
Around the king there stood a number of great nobles, ambitious men anxious to make use of the king's name to further their own interests. Of these great noblemen the chief were the families of the Beauforts, the Tudors, the Percies of Northumberland, the Nevilles of Westmoreland, the Staffords of Buckingham. Meanwhile, as we have seen, there was another party opposed to the king and his friends, a party composed, like that which surrounded Henry, of great and ambitious nobles, each with his retinue of armed men. Such were the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick, of the family of Neville, and John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. It was to Richard, Duke of York, that members of this party looked as their head. It was not long before the rivalry between the two great factions passed from mere quarrelling into open war; and it is of this war that something must be said in this chapter. It is not easy, and it is not necessary, to follow carefully all the ups and downs, and the various changes of fortune, which marked the Wars of the Roses, but a word must be said about the character of the war itself.
The Wars of the Roses, which began in 1455 and lasted for thirty years, were in some ways very unlike other wars from which our country has suffered. It was not the people of England who were fighting against a foreign enemy, nor was it even the people of England divided into two parties engaged in civil war. It was the White Rose against the Red Rose, the House of York against the House of Lancaster, the friends of the House of York against the friends of the House of Lancaster.
The chief men on either side fought for power and riches. They fought because they hated each other, they fought because they loved fighting. They always found plenty of friends who loved power, riches, and fighting, ready to join them.
But, strange as it may seem, these terrible wars, which lasted so long, and in which so many fierce battles were fought, did not do much harm to the common people of England. Great battles were fought in different places, and many of the great lords and their followers were killed on both sides. But even quite close to places where the battles were fought, work went on, and people lived quietly, peaceably, without caring much what happened in the battle, or which side won.
There is a famous collection of letters which were written by members of the family of Paston to one another at this time. They have been put together in a book, and we can read them now. It is strange to notice how little those who were not actually concerned in the fighting seemed to think about the war that was going on. In many of the letters, nothing is said about the Wars of the Roses, or about the House of Lancaster or the House of York; and when we read them, we might think that there had been perfect peace in the country at the time when they were written.
White Rose and Red Rose. (Ch 31)
SOMERSET: "Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
WARWICK: I love no colours, and without all colour
Of base insinuating flattery
I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
SUFFOLK: I pluck this red rose with young Somerset
And say withal I think he held the right."
--Shakespeare: "Henry VI.," Part I.
Every reader of English history is familiar with the name which has been given to the long struggle which began in the reign of Henry VI., and ended thirty years later at the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). We describe it as the "Wars of the Roses." The phrase has become so much a part of our history that it is worth while to say a few words as to what it means, and how it came to be used.
The two most important counties in England are Yorkshire and Lancashire. They are great rivals in many things, though they are happily not enemies. If we look at a soldier who belongs to one of the Yorkshire regiments, such as the King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry (47th and 81st) we shall see that he bears on his collar a Rose. If we look at a soldier of one of the Lancashire regiments, such for instance as the Royal North Lancashire (47th and 81st) we shall see that he, too, has on his collar a Rose.
The rose is one of the crests or signs of Yorkshire, and it is also one of the crests or signs of Lancashire, but there is a difference between the two. If we see the rose painted up in Yorkshire, as we may do in many places, we shall see that it is a White Rose; but if we saw it painted up in Lancashire, it would be a Red Rose.
If we go into the Houses of Parliament in Westminster, we can see in some of the coloured glass windows the White Rose of York and the Red Rose of Lancaster joined together. How was it that these two roses ever came to be divided? How was it that they ever came together again? That is what we shall learn in the next few chapters.
On the Thames Embankment in London there is a great block of buildings where lawyers live. There are gardens in front of the buildings which come nearly down to the river. The great block of buildings is called The Temple, and the gardens are the Temple Gardens.
On a summer's day, some four hundred years ago, Richard, Duke of York and John Beaufort, Earl of Somerset, who was of the House of Lancaster, were walking in the Temple Gardens with their friends. The story says that the two quarrelled, and that their friends took up the quarrel on either side. Then Beaufort plucked a Red Rose from a bush hard by, and said to his friends, "Let those who are of my party wear my flower." Then the Duke of York plucked a White Rose for his badge. And so it came about that the Red Rose stood for the House of Lancaster, and the White Rose for the House of York, not only in this first quarrel, but in the terrible war which followed it.
Chapter 32. Edward IV. 1455-1483.
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Principal events during the reign of Edward IV (after the death of Henry VI): |
The Chances of War -- Wakefield -- St. Albans -- Towton -- Barnet -- Tewkesbury. (Ch 32)
"What is most astonishing in the life of this prince [Edward IV.] is his good fortune, which seemed to be prodigious." -- Rapin.
It was in 1455 that fighting first began. A battle was fought (May 23rd) at St. Albans, in which the Yorkist party were the victors. King Henry himself was taken prisoner by Richard, Duke of York, and the Duke of Somerset, the king's chief minister, was killed. But though the king was a prisoner, his wife was free, and determined at any cost to destroy her enemies. She succeeded in stirring up the king's friends, and this time the fortunes of war turned against the Yorkists, who were routed at Ludford, near Ludlow, in 1459. It was one of the most unfortunate features in this unhappy war that as each party gained the upper hand it sought by cruelty and oppression to destroy its opponents, and, as might have been expected, the attempt only drove the defeated party into fiercer resistance. Men who feel that they have nothing to lose are always dangerous enemies; and thus on the present occasion the defeated Yorkists, united by the violence of the king's party, again appeared in arms. On the 10th of July, 1460, the Earl of Warwick defeated the Lancastrians at Northampton. A second time the king was taken prisoner, and a second time the queen escaped to carry on the war. The Duke of York seemed now to have within his reach the prize for which he longed namely, the crown of England, for King Henry was in his power; but as yet he did not dare to enforce his claim. He demanded, however, that he should succeed King Henry, thus depriving the Prince of Wales, Henry's eldest son, of his rights.
But Queen Margaret, ever courageous and determined, had succeeded once more in rallying the Lancastrian forces. At the battle of Wakefield (December 31st, 1460), the Yorkists suffered a terrible defeat. Richard, Duke of York, was slain on the field. A second battle at St. Albans (February 1461) gave another victory to the Lancastrians and restored the king to his friends. London, which throughout stood by the Yorkists, was only saved by the valour of Edward, the young son of Richard of York, who arrived with his troops in time to protect the City.
And now, for the first time we have the strange spectacle of two kings of England demanding the allegiance of the people, for Edward with the consent of his followers, boldly claimed the crown, and proclaimed himself King of England as Edward IV. He soon proved himself worthy of his position. He advanced against the Lancastrians, and on the 29th of March, 1461, engaged them at Towton, near Tadcaster. The battle, in which 60,000 men were slain, was one of the fiercest in all the war, and once more fortune deserted the cause of Henry. His army was defeated and almost destroyed, while many of the most powerful Lancastrian nobles were slain on the field. Henry fled to Scotland, and for a time Edward reigned as undisputed King of England. His strength lay partly in his own character as a skilful and courageous commander in battle, but it was probably from the support which he received from the great Earl of Warwick, the most powerful of the Yorkist nobles, that he owed his success at this time. So great was the power of Warwick, so important was his aid to the party which he supported, that he came to be called "Warwick, the King-Maker," and indeed it seemed as if the gift of the crown of England lay in his strong hands.
In the short interval of peace which now followed, an event of some importance took place. This was the marriage of Edward to Elizabeth Woodville, the widow of Sir John Grey, one of the Lancastrian party. The marriage was made contrary to the advice of Warwick, who desired to see the king married to a French princess, and who disliked the Woodvilles and feared their influence over the king. From that time forward the "King-Maker" set himself to injure Edward and to help the fallen Henry. He secretly entered into an agreement with the Lancastrians. Edward himself was entrapped by a party of Lancastrians and imprisoned, and for a short time Warwick was sufficiently powerful to wreak his vengeance upon the hated family of Woodville, and to secure the execution of Earl Rivers, the head of the Woodville family (1469).
It seemed, however, fated that in this strange civil war the victor, whoever he was, must expect to see himself within a very short time in the position of the vanquished. Edward escaped from his prison and took the field. Warwick now openly turned traitor and joined Henry and Queen Margaret, who in 1470 made one last attempt to recover the crown. But again Edward proved himself an unrivalled general in the field. The two armies met at Barnet, a few miles north of London. The Yorkists were victorious, a fog covered the field of battle, and Warwick, "the King-Maker" and traitor, losing his way, arrived only in time to find the battle lost. Falling into the hands of the victorious Yorkists, he was slain, together with his brother and his principal followers (14th April, 1471). One more attempt to retrieve their fallen fortunes was made by the Lancastrians, and Margaret, courageous to the last, led her army against Edward. At Tewkesbury, however, a battle took place (4th May, 1471), and Edward was again completely victorious. Margaret herself was taken prisoner, and her son Edward was killed.
A few days later the feeble King Henry, once more in the hands of his enemies was murdered in his prison, it is said by the hand, or at any rate by the order, of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, brother of the king. And thus, at last, Edward found himself in undisputed possession of the crown, and for a time at least the House of York was supreme.
Edward IV. now reigned as King of England, with no one to dispute his right. The war had been long and disastrous. Many men had lost their lives on both sides, but the greatest loss had been among the nobles. When the House of Lords was called together after the Wars of the Roses, there were less than forty lords left to obey the call.
Little space need be devoted to the reign of Edward IV. after the battle of Tewkesbury. That battle was fought, as we have read, in the year 1471, and for twelve years King Edward reigned as undisputed king, enjoying the ease which his previous activity in the field had won for him. It cannot be said that he was a good king, but he was undoubtedly a popular one and deserved to be so, for he allowed his subjects to enjoy for the first time for many years the blessings of peace. His subjects were not slow to take advantage of the opportunity given to them, and it is from this period that we must date the beginning of the growth of wealth in England which became so marked a hundred years later.
Of the great nobles with their turbulent following many had been slain, others had been ruined or banished from the country. Meanwhile, a class of wealthy merchants, who cared nothing for the disputes of the nobles, had been growing up. Trade with foreign countries had increased, and the war which had ruined the nobility had left the country but little the worse. Nor did Edward run the risk of losing his popularity by making excessive demands upon Parliament. He preferred rather to compel a small number of rich men to pay him money under the form of forced loans, or "benevolences," than to trouble Parliament for "supplies." This plan found favour with the many who were not asked to contribute, and they did not care to ask whether it were legal or not. They were content that others should be called upon to pay as long as they themselves went free. It has been said with truth that "the price of liberty is eternal vigilance," and the proverb receives its illustration in this case, for Parliament having once given up or ceased to exercise its right to vote money, found it difficult to regain that right when it desired to do so. We shall learn in a later chapter how our English Sovereigns, having learnt from King Edward how to govern without a Parliament, improved the lesson and reduced Parliament for many years to a condition in which it was almost powerless either for good or evil.
Unluckily, the bitter enmities which had been raised during the Wars of the Roses had not as yet been exhausted. Hatred and distrust still divided parties, and even families, and in the year 1478 Edward, convinced that his own brother, George, Duke of Clarence, was plotting against him, threw him into prison, and caused him to be put to death. His younger brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, he trusted, but his trust was terribly misplaced.
On the 9th of April, 1483, Edward died, leaving two sons, Edward aged twelve, and Richard aged nine, and five daughters, of whom we must remember the eldest, Elizabeth by name, who at the time of her father's death was eighteen years of age,
Chapter 33. The Invention of Printing.
William Caxton and the Compositor's Case.
"There are no tools more ingeniously wrought, or more potent than those which belong to the art of the printer." -- The Common School Journal. 1843.
Before passing to the history of the next reign, something must be said of certain events which took place in our history during the reign of Edward IV., which, though they are not part of the political history of the time, are of very great importance, and had a great influence upon the life of our nation. The fifteenth century will always be memorable as that in which the art of printing was introduced into England.
Before the time of Edward IV. that is to say, before the year 1470 printing was unknown in England. The art of Printing had been known and practised for some time abroad, but there had been no printing press set up in England.
The name of the first man who brought the printing press into England ought to be remembered, for few things have made more difference to our country than the invention of printing. The name of the man of whom I speak was William Caxton. When he was quite a young man, he came up to London from Kent, and got employment in the shop of a man who dealt in wool and woollen goods. At that time, most of the wool which was used in England was bought and sold at the great markets which were held at the town of Bruges, in Belgium. He stayed in Bruges for many years working at his trade. He got on very well, and became rich and much respected. It was not till he was fifty years old that Caxton made a great change in his business, a change which ended in making his name very famous in English history.
The town of Bruges was under the government of the Duke of Burgundy, and the Duke of Burgundy had married Margaret, the sister of King Edward IV. of England.
Now it happened that Caxton had been amusing himself by translating into English a French poem called "The History of Troy." Margaret was very friendly to Caxton, who was her countryman, and when she heard that he was translating the "Siege of Troy," she sent for him and asked him to read it to her. When he had finished the whole work, the princess asked him to give her a copy of it to send to her friends in England. But to copy out a poem which fills a whole book is a long and tiresome task, and Caxton soon became very tired of the work.
He got so tired of it that at last he decided to go to some Dutch printers who were living in Bruges, and who were among the first persons who printed books in Europe. From these printers he learnt how to print himself, and before very long was able to print a copy of his poem for the princess.
Margaret sent the book over to her brother, and those who saw it in England were astonished and delighted with the work. At last Caxton made up his mind to leave Bruges and to come over to England. He brought with him his printing press, and set it up near Westminster Abbey in London. There he soon set to work to print books, and though his press was a very small one, and worked much more slowly than those which are used now, he was able during his life to print no less than ninety-nine books.
It was in the year 1477 that Caxton first set up his printing press in England, and from that time the number of printing presses has increased very quickly, and now millions of books are printed each year. We must not forget that it was to William Caxton that the credit is due of having been the first to bring the art of printing into England.
An instructive and rather amusing historical lesson may be learnt from an article which is in daily use in every printing office at the present day.
The man who sets up or "composes" the different types or letters for a book such as that which we are now reading, is called a "compositor." He has before him, when he is "composing," two shallow trays made of wood, divided into a number of little boxes or compartments. The metal types which he uses are kept in these little boxes: all the A's in one, the B's in another, the C's in another, and so on. He takes them out and arranges them in the proper order to spell the words which have to be printed.
The trays which hold the type are called "cases." All the capital letters, A, B, C, D, and so on, are in the top case, or, as printers call it, "the upper case." The little boxes in which the capital letters are kept, are arranged in the order of the alphabet, A, B, C, D, and so on, until we come to the letter J. There is no place here for the letter J, Then we go on in the proper order: K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, and so on, until we come to the letter U. The letter U, like the letter J, is out of its place. We must go on to the end of the alphabet, and after we have finished all the other boxes, down to X, Y, and Z, AE and OE, we shall find the two compartments for J and U.
It seems at first as if the order in which a compositor's case is arranged could have very little to do with the history of King Edward IV.; but we shall see that the arrangement of the letters in the compositor's case does after all tell us a little story of its own, and does really take us back a great many years in our history.
The first compositor's case that was ever used in England was made in the reign of Edward IV., and it was made to hold all the letters which people used at that time. But in the time of Edward IV. the letters J and U were never used in writing. "I" was used instead of J, and V did duty for U. If King Edward, when writing a letter to his brother Richard of York, had wanted to put a date June 8th, he would probably have written it with the letters IVNE viiith.
And so it was natural enough that when the first compositor's case was made, no place should be found for J and U. Many years afterwards, the two letters came to be used in English printing. The compositors had got so used to the old order with the J and the U left out that they never liked to alter it, so they decided to stick the two letters in at the end, and the compositor's alphabet now ends "W, X, Y, Z, AE, OE, U, J."
In Chapter 26 we read an account of the battle of Crecy, and we learnt how for the first time gunpowder was used on the field of battle. The use of gunpowder made a very great change in the world, for it made the Weak equal to the Strong, and it enabled a poor man to have as good arms and to defend himself as well as a rich man. We may truly say of gunpowder that it made all men more equal, by making the strong and the proud less powerful than before.
But if gunpowder made a great change in the world, the invention of Printing made a still greater change. There is something else besides strength and courage which gives power, and that is Knowledge. From the day when printing was invented, it became possible for thousands and thousands of people, who had never before had a chance of learning, to buy and read books and to acquire the knowledge which the books contained.
In our own time there are none so poor that they cannot, if they choose, learn from books. Every child is taught how to read in the schools; books cost only a few pence, and for those who are not able, or who do not care, to spend even a few pence, there are Public Libraries in almost all towns, and in many villages, in which people can read the best books without any payment. The invention of printing made all people more equal than they were before, because it raised up those who were poor and ignorant by giving them the chance of reading and learning things which, before there were printed books, only the rich could read and learn.
The Fall of Constantinople. (Ch 33)
"The capture of Constantinople by the Turks, and the flight of its Greek scholars to the shores of Italy, opened anew the science and literature of the older world, at the very hour when the intellectual energy of the Middle Ages had sunk into exhaustion." -- J. R. Green.
There is one thing which ought not to be forgotten when we read the history of the first printing press in England. Caxton's printing press was set up in the year 1477 in Westminster. In the year 1453, or twenty-four years earlier, the great city of Constantinople had been besieged and taken by the Turks. The Christians who lived in it had been put to death or turned out, and all the great libraries and schools in Constantinople had been broken up or destroyed.
At first it seemed as if the taking of Constantinople, far away in Turkey, had little to do with the setting-up of a printing press in Westminster, but we shall see that really the two things had a great deal to do with each other.
For many hundreds of years, learned men from all parts of Europe had gone to live at Constantinople to study Greek and Latin, and to read the Greek and Latin books which were kept at the libraries of Constantinople. But when Constantinople was taken by the Turks, all these Latin and Greek scholars were driven out of the city. They were glad to escape with their lives, and with such books as they could carry away with them. They wandered all over Europe, and, being learned men, many of them found a welcome in the cities and towns in which they stopped. In these cities and towns they began to teach the people how to read the Latin and Greek books which they had brought with them, and also taught them to read the Latin and Greek books which were kept in many of the towns of Europe, but which few people at that time were able to read.
But if there had been no way of adding to the number of books except by writing them out with a pen from beginning to end, it is plain that very few people would have been able to read them or to take advantage of the New Learning which had come from Constantinople. Luckily, it was just at this time that the printing press was invented, and so it came about that as fast as people were taught to read the Greek and Latin books we have spoken about, there were found printers to make copies of them, and to spread them all over Europe. In this way, many books which had been forgotten for more than a thousand years, became known again, and all the great thoughts of famous men who lived in Greece and in Rome in ages past were made known once more to people in every country. Thus we see that at the time when the printing presses first made it possible to print a great number of books, there happened to be a great number of books which it was necessary to print.
Chapter 34. Edward V. and Richard III. 1483-1485.
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Principal events during the reigns of Edward V. and Richard III: |
The Last of the Plantagenets. (Ch 34)
"We must live together like brothers, fight together like lions, and fear not to die together like men. And if you consider and wisely ponder all things in your mind, you shall perceive that we have manifest causes and apparent tokens of triumph and victory . . . Wherefore, advance forth your standards, and everyone give but one sure stroke, and surely the journey is ours. And as for me, I assure you this day I will triumph by victory, or suffer death for immortal fame." -- Address of Richard III. to his army before the battle of Bosworth.
The names of two kings have been placed at the head of this chapter, and, indeed, the events which occurred during the reign of the poor boy whose name figures in our history as Edward V. require but little record. It will be remembered that on his death Edward IV. left two sons, Edward and Richard, both of them children. Edward was undoubtedly the true heir to the crown if the throne were to go to the Yorkists; but here again we have proof that sometimes "might" takes the place of "right," and that violence and cruelty triumph, if only for a short time. It has been mentioned that Edward IV. trusted his younger brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and with little reason for his confidence. From the day of his brother's death Richard determined that, whatever obstacles might stand in the way, the crown of England should be his. It is plain that the chief obstacle lay in the life of his two nephews; but these young children were defenceless, and Richard made up his mind to sweep them from his path. He ordered the little King Edward and his brother to be shut up close prisoners in the Tower of London. There they were smothered as they lay in their beds, and the place where their bodies were buried under one of the stone staircases is still pointed out to those who visit the Tower. That Richard was the author of the murder no one really doubted, but the Duke of Gloucester was too powerful a man to meddle with, and Richard was able to gratify his long-cherished ambition to claim, with the assent of Parliament, the crown of England.
For a short time, and a short time only, he compelled the country to acknowledge his lawless rule; and in the first year of his reign he even succeeded in putting down a rebellion led by the Duke of Buckingham, whom he defeated, took prisoner, and ordered to be executed. But his punishment was not far off, and once more the House of Lancaster was to triumph over the House of York.
The First of the Tudors. (Ch 34)
"Let us, therefore, fight like invincible giants, and set on our enemies like untimorous tigers, and banish all fear like raging lions. And now advance forward, true men against traitors, pitiful persons against murtherers, true inheritors against usurpers, the scourges of God against tyrants. Display my banner with a good courage; march forth like strong and robustious champions, and begin the battle like hardy conquerors . . . In the Name of God and St. George, let every man courageously advance forth his standard." -- Proclamation of Henry, Earl of Richmond, to his army before the battle of Bosworth.
In order to understand who it was that drove Richard III. from his throne, we must go back to what we read in Chapter 31. It will be remembered that when Henry V. died, his widow, Catherine, lived for a time at the Court of her little son, Henry VI., but that at last she got tired of the continual interference of the king's uncles, the Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester. She went away from the Court, and married a Welsh gentleman named Owen Tudor. We said that this Welsh gentleman ought to be remembered because the name of Tudor would come in again in English history; and now we shall see how it was that the name of Tudor became the name of the kings and queens of England.
Catherine and Owen Tudor had a son, who was called Edmund, Earl of Richmond, and Edmund, Earl of Richmond, married Margaret Beaufort, daughter of the Duke of Somerset who, we must remember, was a Lancastrian, Edmund and Margaret had a son called Henry -- "Harry of Richmond," as he is called in Shakespeare and it is with this son Henry, or "Harry of Richmond," we have now got to do. It is clear, therefore, that Harry of Richmond was altogether one of the Red Rose party, and to him all the Lancastrians now looked as their champion against Richard III. Henry had not only many friends among the Lancastrians, but he had also friends among the Yorkists; for Richard, by his cruelty, had made himself hated.
And so, at last, the Lancastrians made up their minds once more to try the fortune of war. Henry of Richmond was in France. On the 1st of August, 1485, he sailed from Harfleur in that country, and after a voyage of seven days arrived at Milford Haven, in Wales. He brought with him a small army of 3,000 men. Many Welshmen joined him; they remembered that he was himself the grandson of a Welshman -- Owen Tudor.
Henry now marched eastward into England, and was soon joined by several thousand men. As soon as the news reached King Richard, he put himself at the head of his troops and marched to meet his rival. On the 21st of August the king reached Bosworth, twelve miles from Leicester. He had with him 30,000 men, but many of these were secret enemies of his cause, and he dared not trust them. Henry had by this time reached Tamworth. His army, though much smaller than that of the king, was composed of men who had all willingly joined him, and who were ready to die for his cause.
On the 22nd of August was fought the famous battle of Bosworth Field. Both Richard and Henry fought valiantly in the hottest of the battle. Scarcely had the fight begun when Lord Stanley, who, with 5,000 men, had hitherto sided with King Richard, suddenly came over with all his followers to Henry of Richmond. The royal troops were disheartened, but the misfortune only encouraged Richard himself to fight more fiercely than before.
Three times he charged with his horsemen against the centre of the enemy. His hope was to kill Henry of Richmond, and he dashed forward crying, "Treason! treason! treason!" He killed, with his own hand, Sir William Brandon, who bore Henry's standard. He cut down Sir John Cheyner, who was close to Henry, and he dealt a desperate blow at his rival. But here his short success ended. Sir William Stanley rode up with his followers, and Richard, fighting fiercely, was borne to the ground and slain.
The body of the king was stripped of his rich armour. Richard had ridden into the battle with a golden crown upon his helmet. When he fell, the crown rolled away and could not be found. At last it was discovered lying under a hawthorn bush. Sir William Stanley brought the golden circlet to Henry of Richmond, and there, on the field of battle, he placed it on the conqueror's head, hailing him no longer as Henry of Richmond, but as Henry VII., King of England. So fell Richard of Gloucester, the last of the Plantagenet Kings.
Many hard things have been said of Richard III., and many of them are no doubt well deserved; but we must not forget that most of the accounts which we have of his life were written by his enemies, who told all that was bad and little that was good about him. It is of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, that Shakespeare's great play "Richard III." is written. In that play we have Richard described as a man of great cruelty, and a deformed hunchback. Whether Richard were in fact as black as he was painted we cannot now with certainty determine, but that he gained the throne by violence and cruelty is undoubted, and there were few in England who were grieved when he in turn lost by violence that which he had so shamefully won.
The Union of the Roses. (Ch 34)
"We will unite the white rose with the red:
Smile, Heaven, upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown' d upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not, Amen?"
-- Shakespeare: "Richard III."
With Henry VII. we begin the story of the Tudors, and this must be told in another chapter. But though with Richard there ended the line of the Plantagenet Kings, and though the battle of Bosworth crushed the power of the House of York, it is pleasant to think that after all these long wars and this fierce fighting, the bitter quarrel between Red Rose and White Rose was at last made up by a happy marriage.
We shall remember that when Edward IV. died, he left several children, including the two little princes, Edward and Richard, who were smothered in the Tower. The eldest girl was Elizabeth. The year after the battle of Bosworth Field, Henry of Richmond, now King Henry VII., married Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV., a princess of the House of York.
There is a rose-tree which we sometimes see in old-fashioned gardens which is called the "York and Lancaster rose," for the roses which it bears have their petals streaked with red and white, or some flowers red and others white. This flower might well have become the emblem of the Kings of England after the marriage of Henry VII. For now, indeed, the Red Rose and the White Rose were united, and the great Houses of Lancaster and York were friends at last.
Year 8
PART FOUR. THE TUDORS. 1485-1603.
Note.
The portion of our history which is described in the Fourth Part of this book is peculiarly full of interest and variety. It is in every sense a brilliant and exciting period, in which men of action and men of thought crowd upon the scene, and in which the genius of the English race may be said to have found its highest expression. The Tudor Sovereigns themselves, with all their faults, were men and women of strong character, well fitted for the stirring times in which they lived.
In the short space of 118 years, during which they ruled over the country, the whole world, and England as part of the world, seemed to be changed. It is not often in the world's history that the ideas of the grandson are so widely different from those of the grandfather, that the latter would have altogether failed to understand the ideas and expressions of the former. And yet, if we remember what a change passed over the world in the closing years of the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth centuries, we shall be able to understand that for once, at any rate, men could speak of something new with the certainty that the knowledge which they possessed had never been granted to those who came before them.
In England men became aware that there was a New World, they spoke of a New Learning, and they fought for a New form of Religion, and in the struggle between New and Old the full strength of the nation showed itself. It was a splendid time in our history, and it was peculiarly an "English" time, for we had not, as we have had in later days, the help of Irish genius and Irish courage, and Scotland was still a foreign and often a hostile kingdom. The story of the growth and expansion of England in these days is only less marvellous than that which is familiar to us in our own day.
Chapter 35. Henry VII. 1485-1509.
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Principal events in the reign of Henry VII: In this reign Columbus discovered the New World; Vasco da Gama sailed round the Cape of Good Hope; the province of Brittany became part of the kingdom of France; Granada was taken from the Moors by the Spaniards (1492), and the Moors or Mahomedans were driven out of Spain, 1499. |
The Tudors. (Ch 35)
"A warlike prince ascends the regal state, A prince long exercised by Fate, Long may he keep, though he obtains it late." -- Dryden.
In the last chapter we read how the line of the Plantagenet Kings came to an end with the death of King Richard III. on Bosworth Field. We read how the crown of England was picked up from a hawthorn bush and placed upon the head of Henry of Richmond, who was known from that day forward as Henry VII., King of England.
Richard III. was the last of the Plantagenets. Henry VII. was the first of the Tudors. The Plantagenet kings, as we know, were the descendants of Geoffrey of Anjou, father of King Henry II., who married Queen Matilda in the year 1127. The battle of Bosworth was fought in the year 1485; so we see that from the year 1164, when Henry II., the first of the Plantagenet kings, came to the throne, to the year 1485, when Richard III., the last of the Plantagenet kings, died at Bosworth, was a period of three hundred and thirty-one years. And now we leave the history of the Plantagenet kings and come to that of the Tudor Kings, beginning with Henry VII. What is meant by calling Henry a Tudor King, and what is meant by the Tudor Period? It is not difficult to understand what is meant if we remember what we read in the earlier part of our history. It is not in the reign of Henry VII. that we first meet with the name of Tudor; but it is in the reign of Henry VI., sixty-two years before.
Queen Catherine, the mother of Henry VI., had two husbands. The first was King Henry V., who won the great victory of Agincourt; the second was a Welsh gentleman named Owen Tudor. This Owen Tudor was the grandfather of Henry VII., and Henry VII. of course bore the name of his grandfather and father.
There are five kings and queens in English history who bore the surname of "Tudor," and they came to the throne one after another. The first was Henry VII.; the second was Henry VIII., his son; the third was Edward VI., the son of Henry VIII.; the fourth was Queen Mary, the daughter of Henry VIII. and the sister of Edward VI.; the fifth and last was Queen Elizabeth, the daughter of Henry VIII. and the sister of Edward VI. and Mary.
These five -- Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth -- are called the Tudor Sovereigns of England. The first of them, Henry VII, came to the throne in 1485; the last of them, Queen Elizabeth, died in the year 1603. It is the one hundred and eighteen years between 1485 and 1603, which are known as the Tudor Period; and it is about the events which took place during this period that we are now going to read.
The King's Title. (Ch 35)
"Possession is nine points of the law."
The first thing which King Henry had to do after he came to the throne was to make sure that the same power which had given him the crown should not deprive him of it. The House of Lancaster had won the day at Bosworth Field, and Richard, the leader of the House of York, lay dead upon the battlefield. But though Richard was dead, there were other princes of the House of York, and there were some who had as good or better right to the crown than Henry of Richmond. The king knew well enough that unless he could win over to his cause some of those who had fought so long for the Yorkists, he would always be in danger of having to fight for his crown, and perhaps, like Richard himself, of losing it in some disastrous battle.
There was, however, a way by which the interests of the House of Lancaster and the House of York might be joined together, and the time had come when Englishmen were only too glad to put an end to the cruel civil war which had so long raged in their country.
King Edward IV. had four children. Of these two were boys -- Edward and Richard -- the little princes who had been so cruelly murdered in the Tower by their uncle Richard III. But though the little princes were dead, their elder sister Elizabeth was still alive. It was the wish of nearly all Englishmen that Henry VII. should marry the Princess Elizabeth, and thus unite the Houses of York and Lancaster.
Henry was a wise man, and he saw clearly that nothing would make him so strong and his position so sure as a marriage with Elizabeth; and even before the battle of Bosworth he had made up his mind to such a marriage. At the same time, he was not at all willing to admit that he himself had no right to the crown. He thought that it would be a very bad thing for him if people were to say that he owed his kingdom to his wife, and that he himself had no right to it.
The first thing he did, therefore, was to call Parliament together, and to get them to pass an Act in which they declared that "the inheritance of the crown should be, rest, remain, and abide in the most royal person of our Sovereign Lord King Henry VII. and his heirs, perpetually with the Grace of God so to endure, and in none other." This was really very much the same thing as saying that Henry VII. was king because he was king, that he had taken what he had got, and that he meant to keep it by the same means which had helped him to obtain it.
It was the old story of "Might is Right"; but "might is right" only so long as the strong man does not meet with a stronger; and all through his reign Henry found that, although his Parliament had declared that he was king and "none other," there were people who were quite ready to say that they had a better right than he, and that they would overthrow by force the crown which had been won by force.
It was not till the year after the battle of Bosworth that Henry married the Princess Elizabeth of York. He wanted everybody to understand that he claimed the crown for himself, because he was descended from John of Gaunt and from King Edward III., and not because he had married the daughter of King Edward IV. If he had once declared that the crown ought to go to the family of Edward IV., he would soon have been in a great difficulty, for Elizabeth was not the only one of Edward IV.'s family who might claim the throne.
We shall see how great a danger these relations of Edward IV. proved, and how much the king had to fear from them.
Lambert Simnel; or, Carpenter, King, and Kitchen Boy. (Ch 35)
"There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip."
There were two great rebellions against King Henry during his reign. The first was the rebellion of Lambert Simnel. Lambert Simnel was a young man, the son of a carpenter at Oxford. He was a handsome youth with pleasant manners. It chanced that this boy -- for Lambert Simnel was only fifteen when we first hear about him -- fell into the hands of an Irish priest named Richard Simon, who took him over to Ireland.
At that time Thomas Fitzgerald, the Earl of Kildare, was Governor, or, as it was called, "The Lord Deputy," of Ireland. He was a great friend of the Yorkists, and was quite ready to believe anything which was likely to help the cause of the House of York and to injure the cause of King Henry. It so happened, therefore, that when Richard Simon told him something about the boy Simnel which, if it had been true, would have been a very bad thing for King Henry, the Earl of Kildare readily believed it, or, what was much the same thing, he said that he believed it.
The story which Simon the priest told the Earl of Kildare was a strange one. Edward IV. had had two brothers -- George, Duke of Clarence, who was the elder, and Richard, Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard III., who was the younger.
In the year 1478, the Duke of Clarence had quarrelled with his brother, King Edward. King Edward imprisoned the unhappy duke in the Tower of London, and there he was secretly put to death. There is a story that he was drowned in a butt of Malmsey wine. There was no doubt at all that the Duke of Clarence was dead; but he had left behind him a son named Edward, who was known as the Earl of Warwick.
The Earl of Warwick was still alive, and Henry VII. had taken care to have him shut up in the Tower and kept there. But now Simon came and told the Earl of Kildare and his Yorkist friends that the handsome boy whom they had brought with them was no other than this same Edward, Earl of Warwick, son of the Duke of Clarence. He had escaped, said Simon, from the Tower, and he now came to ask all true friends of the House of York to take up his cause, and to fight for him against Henry of Lancaster, the Usurper.
[As a matter of fact, even if it had been true that Lambert Simnel were really the Earl of Warwick, he would have had no right to the crown as long as Elizabeth, now the wife of Henry VII., was alive. Elizabeth was the daughter of Edward IV., the elder brother of the Duke of Clarence, and therefore came before the son of the Duke of Clarence in the succession to the crown.]
It seems very unlikely that those who were the first to come forward to help Lambert Simnel really believed that he was the Earl of Warwick. All they wanted was to drive King Henry from the throne and to get power for themselves. To do this, they were quite ready to make use of Lambert Simnel, or of anybody else who would help their cause. At the same time, it seems very likely that many people both in England and in Ireland did really, for a time, believe in the pretender. At any rate, a large number of Yorkists joined him.
Margaret of Burgundy, who was the sister of Edward IV. and who had a deep hatred for King Henry, sent over two thousand well-trained German soldiers to help the so-called Earl of Warwick. The army landed in Lancashire, and marched into England.
Meanwhile, King Henry did two wise things. In the first place, he sent to the Tower, where the real Earl of Warwick was imprisoned, and had the poor boy brought out and taken through the streets of London so that everyone could see him. It was quite plain that if the real Earl of Warwick were still in the Tower, the young man who had just landed in Lancashire could not be the Earl of Warwick, but must be a false pretender.
The other wise thing which Henry did was to lose no time in sending an army against his new enemy. A battle was fought near Newark, in Nottinghamshire, at a place called Stoke (1487). It was a fierce fight, and the Germans sent by Margaret fought bravely; but at last they were overcome, and the victory rested with the royal troops. Lambert Simnel himself was taken prisoner and brought to London.
Everyone thought, that now Henry had taken the usurper prisoner, he would put him to death without mercy, and would probably send most of the nobles who had helped him to the scaffold at the same time. But Henry did a much wiser thing than this. One or two of the chief nobles who had helped Lambert Simnel were put to death; the rest were compelled to pay large fines to the king.
Some of them were commanded to come to the king's court in London. When they got there, they were invited to a great dinner given by the king. As they sat at dinner, a serving-boy came round bearing a wine-cup. When they looked at this serving-boy, they found he had a face which they knew. It was Lambert Simnel, the false Earl of Warwick, for whom they had been fighting, and on whose account they had lost such large sums of money. He had been the king's enemy; but he had fallen so low that the king no longer feared him -- he only despised him. King Henry had given orders that Lambert Simnel, who had claimed the crown of England, should serve as a scullion in the royal kitchen. Such was the end of the first rebellion.
Perkin Warbeck. (Ch 35)
"Our intelligence comes swiftly to us, that James of Scotland late hath entertained Perkin the counterfeit, with more than common grace and respect; nay, courts him with rare favours." -- From Ford's play of "Perkin Warbeck."
"Save King Richard the Fourth! save thee, King of hearts! The Cornish blades are men of mettle; have proclaimed through Bodnam, and the whole country, my sweet prince monarch of England: four thousand tall yeomen, with bow and sword, already vow to live and die at the foot of King Richard." -- From the same.
But this was not the only rebellion which took place in the reign of Henry VII. Five years after the capture of Lambert Simnel (1492), another pretender came forward. This was Peterkin, or Perkin Warbeck, the son of a Jew living at Tournay, in Belgium. Warbeck was not a boy like Lambert Simnel, but a handsome young man of great courage and ready wit. He pretended to be the Duke of York.
In the story of Richard III.'s reign we read how that cruel king had caused his two nephews, the sons of Edward IV., to be smothered in the Tower of London. The elder of these little princes was Edward, known in our history as "Edward V." The younger was Richard, Duke of York. It was this Richard, Duke of York, whom Perkin pretended to be. He said that the little prince had never been murdered, but that he had escaped from the Tower and had taken refuge abroad.
Warbeck, like Lambert Simnel, found his first friends in Ireland. He landed at Cork (1492), and, pleased with his friendly manners and with his handsome face, the people of Cork readily believed what in their hearts they wished to be true -- namely, that he was Richard of York, rightful King of England. Warbeck soon found other and more powerful friends. Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, helped him as she had helped Simnel, because she hated Henry VII. The King of France became his friend for a time, because he thought that he would weaken England by befriending him.
James IV., King of Scotland, helped him because, in those days, the Scots were nearly always ready to fight against England whenever they got a chance. A few of the great nobles of the House of York helped him because they wanted to get back their estates which Henry had taken from them; but the greater number of the people of England neither helped Perkin Warbeck nor believed in him. And thus Henry was, at length, able to overcome his new enemy as he had overcome the old one.
Warbeck first tried to land in Kent; but those of his friends who got ashore were taken prisoners and hanged by the men of Kent. Then he went on to Ireland, where he found many friends but few helpers. He crossed over to Scotland, and here he got on better; for James went so far as to march with an army into Northumberland. Warbeck called on the people of Northumberland to rise and fight for their king; but the people of Northumberland did not do anything of the kind, and James had to march back again. When he got back, he told Perkin that he would rather he left Scotland, and so the poor adventurer had to set sail once more. At last he landed in Cornwall, and here it seemed as if he might have some chance of success.
Not long before, the men of Cornwall had had a great quarrel with the king. They had complained of the taxes which Henry had made them pay, and had at last refused to give any money at all. No less than 16,000 Cornishmen started to march to London, headed by Michael Joseph, a farrier of Bodmin, and Thomas Flammock, a lawyer. The Cornishmen marched as far as Deptford in Kent, where they were overtaken by the king's army and beaten after a fierce battle. Joseph and Flammock were executed, and, as a punishment for their rebellion, Henry laid still heavier taxes upon Cornwall.
When, therefore, Perkin Warbeck landed in Cornwall, he had little doubt that the Cornishmen, angry with the king, would come to his aid. Indeed, at first, many thousands joined him, and he got as far as Exeter; but the people of Exeter shut the gates of the city and stood fast against the invader. From this time Warbeck's good fortune left him. He was overtaken by the King's army near Taunton, defeated, and taken prisoner. Among the treasures at the Guildhall at Exeter may still be seen the sword which king Henry gave to the loyal city, for shutting its gates against the rebels.
Perkin Warbeck was for a time kept in prison, and perhaps his life would have been spared, had it not been that a fresh plot was discovered. The Earl of Warwick, who was shut up in the Tower, tried to escape, and Warbeck was thought to have been helping him. Determined to have no more plots, Henry caused both the Earl of Warwick and Perkin to be tried; they were both found guilty: the earl had his head cut off, and Perkin was hanged (1499).
How the King Got Rich. (Ch 35)
"In things a moderation keep; Kings ought to shear, not skin their sheep." -- Herrick.
The two rebellions about which we have just read show us plainly that Henry VII. had some reason to feel unsafe on his throne. None but a wise and prudent king could have escaped the dangers which threatened Henry on every side. But Henry showed himself to be wise and prudent not only at home, but abroad. There were many indeed who held that the king's wisdom sometimes took the form of trickery, and that he was very ready to deceive others in order to gain an advantage for himself. But we must not forget that Henry had many enemies, and that, in the long run, he kept England safe and strong throughout the whole of his reign.
It is only by reading much longer histories than this that we can ever learn to understand all the difficulties that Henry had to fight against and to overcome in Europe. But it would not be right to pass over these difficulties altogether.
At that time there were three great Powers France, Spain, and The Empire. The Empire meant, in the time of King Henry, that part of Europe which was ruled over by The Emperor. It included a great part of what is now Germany and Austria, the Netherlands (which are now Holland and Belgium), and parts of Italy.
There were nearly always disputes and quarrels going on between France, Spain, and The Empire, each Power trying to get stronger by taking something from the other two. When France went to war with Spain, the King of France at once tried to get the Emperor to help him, or, at any rate, to remain quiet, while the King of Spain, of course, tried to make the King of France and the Emperor come to blows. In the same way, whichever Powers were fighting, both sides tried to get the help of England, and the side which did not get it, generally threatened to make war upon England for helping its enemies.
It was not a pleasant thing to be threatened in this way, and to be forced to take part in other people's quarrels; and Henry spent a great part of his reign in trying to keep out of war. To do this, he had to make promises first to one side and then to the other, and thus to keep free from trouble. He promised help to Spain against France. The Spaniards were afraid to lose his friendship; if they complained too much, he promised help and sent none. The French thought twice before making war upon England, lest they should turn an enemy who did them no harm into a real enemy who would fight against them with all the power of England at its back. And thus, throughout all his reign, Henry managed to hold the balance even, and, above all, to keep out of war.
But this was not all. Not only did King Henry lose nothing by war; but he found a way of gaining something from the very danger which threatened him. The people of England were more warlike than the king himself, and they were always ready at that time to fight the French. This is not wonderful; for we must remember that less than eighty years had passed since Henry V. had been king not only of England, but of half of France also, and it was less than fifty years since the last of the English troops had been driven out of France. [Calais and the two little towns of Hammes and Guisnes near it were the only parts of France which still belonged to England at this time.]
When Henry found that the people were set upon war, he said: "Very well, you can have the war; but you must pay for it." The people of England liked fighting, but they did not like paying taxes; and they soon found that under King Henry they would have more paying to do than fighting. Henry collected very large sums of money from the people, and at last crossed with his army into France. But he had very little intention of fighting, and the war came to an end almost as soon as it was begun. Then those who had paid the taxes found that the king had got the better of them. He had put a very large sum of money into his Treasury, and had spent very little upon the war.
Indeed, Henry soon became far richer than any King of England had ever been. There were several ways in which he collected money. In the first place, he put heavy fines upon those who were suspected of joining in the rebellions against him. Then he thought of another way.
During the Wars of the Roses, it had been the custom for great nobles to go about attended by very large numbers of their retainers and friends, who all wore the livery or uniform of the great noble whom they followed, and who were ready to fight, and to break the law at the order of their chief. These large bands of lawless men had become a real danger; and now that so many of the great nobles had been killed, the king felt himself strong enough to command those who were left to give up the custom of keeping up their liveries.
Henry forbade the practice. At first the nobles tried to resist; but the king was too strong for them. He punished those who broke the new laws, and made them pay very heavy fines. One day the king paid a visit to the Earl of Oxford, one of the greatest of the nobles. When he came to the earl's castle, at Hedingham in Essex, the king found that great preparations had been made to receive him. Long lines of retainers in the earl's livery were drawn up on each side as the king entered.
The King looked at the men in livery and said nothing; but as he was leaving the castle at the close of his visit, he turned to the earl and said: "I thank you, my lord, for your good cheer; but I cannot endure to have my laws broken in my sight. My attorney must speak with you." The king's attorney did speak to the earl to some purpose, and the earl had to pay a fine of £10,000 as a punishment for trying to honour the king by breaking his laws.
Henry also collected large sums of money by means of what were called Benevolences. A "Benevolence" means a thing that is given of a man's goodwill and pleasure, and not by compulsion. But Henry's Benevolences seem to have had another meaning. When his ministers were in want of money, they drew up lists of those they thought ought to pay. Then the Royal Commissioner went to each person whose name was upon the list, and "invited him to give of his own free will" what the king asked for.
Generally those who were thus invited gave what they were asked to give; for they knew quite well that those who did not wish to give would very soon be made to give. Some of them complained that they were not rich enough to pay what was asked; but Cardinal Morton, the king's minister, soon found an excellent way of settling all questions of this kind. If a man lived in great state and spent much money, the cardinal asked him for a "Benevolence"; "for," said he, "the splendour in which you live and the money which you spend prove that you are a rich man, so pay at once."
If, on the other hand, a man lived very poorly, spending but little, and making no show, then the cardinal had an equally ready answer. "You spend so little, you are so saving and thrifty, that you must needs have plenty of money in your coffers. The saving man is the rich man, so pay at once." And so, either way, the king got his money. The people called this trap of the cardinal's, Morton's Fork. If a man escaped one prong, he was certain to fall upon the other.
What the Rich King did with His Money. (Ch 35)
"The raising or keeping of a standing army within the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland in time of peace, unless it be with the consent of Parliament, is against law." -- From the "Mutiny Act" passed every year by Parliament.
It might seem at first sight as if the fact that Henry collected a great sum of money and became very rich, had but little to do with the history of England in our own day; but really it had a good deal to do with it, as we shall see.
Most of us know something about the British army. There must be few who have not seen some of our soldiers in their scarlet or blue coats. The soldiers in our army join it for a fixed number of years, and while they are in the army they serve in whatever part of the world they are ordered to serve in obedience to the orders of the King and Parliament. Our army is called a Standing Army because it is called together not only in time of war, but is kept up in peace time, so that it may be ready to fight when a war comes.
But there was a time when there was no standing army in England. Before the reign of Henry VII., when the King made war, he used to send to all the vassals of the Crown to bid them come and join him and fight under his banner. At the same time he sent to all the great nobles and commanded them to bring their vassals also to join the royal army. Sometimes also soldiers were paid, as they are now, to fight during the war. But when the war was over, all those who had fought in it went back to their homes again, and in time of peace there was no "Standing Army."
It was in the reign of Henry VII. that there first began to be a change in this matter. We have seen that the King was often in danger, and that he was threatened with the loss both of his throne and of his life. Henry felt that, unless he had always somebody to guard him against his enemies, he might one day be surprised and killed by some friend of the House of York, or by some pretender like Lambert Simnel or Perkin Warbeck. He therefore made up his mind to have what is called a Body Guard -- that is to say, a guard of armed men whose duty it was to attend him wherever he went, and to protect him against all harm.
These men were paid by the king, and they served him both in peace and in war. There were at first very few of them; but they were really the first "Standing Army"' which England ever had. They were called the Yeomen of the Guard,, If we want to know what a Yeoman of the Guard looked like, we need only go as far as the Tower of London, and there we shall see at this very day the Yeomen of the Guard, who wear the very same kind of dress which the Yeomen of the Guard wore in the time of King Henry VII., and whose duty it still is to guard the King or Queen of England when the king or queen goes anywhere in state.
But before anyone can keep up a number of soldiers, one thing is necessary. He must have money to pay them; for soldiers, like other people, will not serve unless they be paid. Henry knew this well; and it was for this reason that he took so much trouble to save up money, to raise "Benevolences," and to make people pay him fines.
Nowadays it is not the king who pays the army, but it is the people of England who pay the taxes which are voted by Parliament. If Parliament were to refuse to vote the money to pay the soldiers, there would soon be no army; but Henry knew very well that "who pays the piper calls the tune." He wanted his soldiers to obey him, and not to obey Parliament. He therefore called Parliament together as little as he could help, and he managed to get nearly all the money he wanted without asking Parliament for it. This made him a very powerful king; for while he had soldiers who would do what he told them, and as long as he could get money without asking Parliament for it, he was really master of the country.
Sometimes Henry found that people refused to pay him the money which he asked for, or disputed his right to make them pay it. To get over this difficulty, he set up a new court which was called the Court of Star Chamber. The first duty of the Court of Star Chamber was to help Henry to put down the great nobles whom he feared, and to see that the Statutes against "Liveries" were observed. Those who disobeyed were compelled to pay heavy fines, and thus the king got money without going to Parliament.
[It was called the Court of Star Chamber because the ceiling of the chamber at Westminster in which the judges sat was decorated with stars.]
The judges of the Court of Star Chamber were generally friends of the king, and were quite willing to help him to get all the money he: wanted. As time went on, the Court of Star Chamber often did very hard things, and came to be hated by the people of England, because those who appeared before it did not receive a fair trial. When we read further on in English history, we shall find that the Court of Star Chamber at last became so hated that it was put an end to by Parliament, and the kings of England were forbidden ever to set up such a Court again.
Some Royal Marriages. (Ch 35)
"Hail, happy pair! kind Heaven's great hostages!
Sure pledges of a firm and lasting peace;
Call't not a match, we that low style disdain
Nor will degrade it with a term so mean;
A league it must be said
Where countries thus espouse, and nations wed."
John Oldham: -- On the Marriage of the Prince of Orange with the Lady Mary.
King Henry had four children -- Arthur, Margaret, Henry, and Mary. The name of Princess Margaret does not often appear in the history of England; but it is one that ought not to be forgotten, for it is from Princess Margaret, daughter of Henry VII. that King Edward VII. is descended. When she was nearly fourteen years old, Margaret was married to James IV., King of Scotland. It seemed a strange thing, at a time when England and Scotland were so often at war with each other, that an English princess should marry a Scottish king; but Henry wanted to make as many friends as he could, and he was glad to get the friendship of his neighbour, the King of Scotland, by giving him his daughter in marriage.
We shall see further on that the marriage between James and Margaret did not prevent England and Scotland from fighting against each other. But though the marriage did not bring peace at the time, it really helped to bring about lasting peace between England and Scotland.
James and Margaret had a son, James, who became James V. of Scotland on the death of his father at the battle of Flodden. James V. had a daughter, Mary, who became Queen of Scots. It was her son, James VI. of Scotland, who afterwards became James I., King of England and Scotland.
When Margaret and James were married, some of Henry's friends said to him: "What will happen if your sons die, or if they have no children? Will not the children of the King and Queen of Scotland have a right to the throne of England, and will it not be a very bad thing that this great kingdom of England should thus be added to the kingdom of Scotland?" "What you say may happen," replied Henry; "but I do not think that, if it does, any harm will be done. You may be sure that if England and Scotland are ever joined together, the great and wealthy Kingdom of England will draw the smaller and poorer Kingdom of Scotland to it, and it will be the King of England who will be King of Scotland."
And this is what really took place; for when King Henry's grandchildren died, the crown of England went to the King of Scotland; but the King of Scotland came to London and was crowned there as King of England and Scotland, and the Parliament of England and Scotland is now held in London and not in Edinburgh. So the wise King Henry was right.
The king's eldest son was Prince Arthur. Henry hoped to make another friend by marrying Arthur. The King and Queen of Spain at that time were called Ferdinand and Isabella. They had a daughter named Catharine, and Henry proposed that Arthur should marry Catharine. Ferdinand and Isabella agreed, and Catharine came over to England. After waiting a long time while King Henry and her parents were disputing as to how much money should be paid by Spain as a dowry or wedding gift on the marriage of the princess, Catharine was married to Arthur. But within five months of the marriage Arthur died, and Henry's plan seemed all undone again.
But the king would not so easily give up his hope of winning the friendship of Spain by marriage. First he offered to marry Catharine himself; but as the king was forty-five years old and his daughter-in-law, Catharine, was only sixteen, the young Princess's mother very naturally did not like the match.
Then Henry hit on another plan, and he got Ferdinand and Isabella to consent to their daughter marrying Prince Henry, her brother-in-law. Prince Henry afterwards became King Henry VIII., and we shall see that this marriage brought many troubles with it, and did very little to secure for England the friendship of Spain.
Changes Abroad. (Ch 35)
"From the dim landscape roll the clouds away;
The Christians have regained their heritage
Before the Cross has waned the Crescent's ray."
-- Scott: "Vision of Don Roderick."
Two things happened during Henry's reign, in Europe, which cannot be passed over. The first was the Expulsion of the Moors from Spain. At one time the whole of Europe had been in danger of being overrun by the Turks, who were followers of Mahomed, or, as we call them, Mahomedans. After many fierce battles, the Mahomedans had been driven out of a great part of Europe; but they still remained in Spain, despite all the efforts of the Spaniards to turn them out.
It was in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella that the Spaniards, after much fierce fighting, at length succeeded in driving the last of the Moors -- for so the Mahomedans who had come into Spain were called -- out of their country (1499).
The second thing specially to be remembered has to do with another part of Europe. If we look at the map we shall see a great piece of France marked Brittany. Up to the reign of Henry VII. Brittany had been a separate Province, or Duchy, governed by the Dukes of Brittany, and not under the French king. In the reign of Henry VII. Brittany for the first time became part of France, for Anne, Duchess of Brittany, married Philip, King of France; and thus the kingdom of France and the duchy of Brittany were joined together, and have remained part of one country ever since.
It is easy to see how important this change was to England. The map shows us Calais, which belonged to England, and shows that the whole of the coast of the Channel, from St. Malo to south of Nantes, was under the Duchy of Brittany. It was only the bit between St. Malo and Calais that belonged to France. But when France and Brittany became united, the whole of the French coast, from Calais to Bayonne, was for the first time governed by one king, who was generally the enemy of England.
Ever since the time of Henry VII., England, whenever she has gone to war with France, has had an enemy's coast facing her shores for more than 600 miles. The great naval harbour and fortress of Brest is in Brittany.
King Henry died in 1509, in the twenty-fourth year of his reign, at the age of fifty-three. There is one thing by which he will always be remembered, and that is the beautiful chapel at the end of Westminster Abbey, which was built by him, and which is called after him, "Henry the Seventh's Chapel."
Chapter 36. Henry VIII. and England at War 1509-1547.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Henry VIII: |
King Harry. (Ch 36)
"Every inch a King."
We now come to the story of Henry VIII. and his long reign. King Henry VIII. is a well-known figure in English history. Whatever may have been his faults, and he had many, there can be no doubt that by far the greater number of the people in England who lived in his time loved him, and thought him a great king. King Harry, Bluff King Hal, are the names by which he went.
He came to the throne when he was a mere youth. He was not quite eighteen years old when his father died. Fair, ruddy, strongly-built, and active, he seemed not only to his English subjects, but to foreigners, the finest-looking man of all the kings of Europe.
The king, too, had a merry mind. He was fond of sport, fond of exercise, fond of good living, fond of show: these were just the things to make him popular with the people. It is true that he was also very fond of having his own way, and that he was selfish and overbearing; but those who suffered most from his self-will were those who stood nearest to him -- his ministers and the great nobles. Many of these were put to death by the king's orders, and many of them lost their fortunes because they did not please him.
But, to tell the truth, the common people of England were often not sorry to see the great nobles who lived among them lose their heads or their properties, and as long as King Henry let the people go their own way, and did not tax them too heavily, they were always ready to call out "God save his Highness!" and to praise a King of England who showed himself so strong and so determined.
We shall see, however, that when King Henry did try to take too much money out of the pockets of the Commons, they were as ready to quarrel with him as any of the nobles; but this happened very seldom, and it is true to say that to the day of his death Henry was beloved by far the greater number of his people.
We know very well what the king was like. Indeed, he is the first King of England whose face is really familiar to us. It was in his day that one of the first and one of the greatest portrait-painters of modern times began to paint pictures in England. Hans Holbein, the German, has left us pictures of Henry which, beyond all doubt, show us the king just as he appeared in his own royal court of Windsor.
We often hear King Henry spoken of as the Fat King: and very plump he certainly was. We can see in Holbein's picture the rings half sunk in his fat fingers. His cheeks were fat, his figure was large, and as he grew older he became somewhat too stout. His eyes were small, and not very handsome to our way of thinking nowadays; but there seems no doubt that though it is the fashion to flatter kings and great men, those who saw King Henry and who spoke of him as a dignified and handsome prince, gave expression to the general opinion of the time.
The king had many faults. He did many things which seem very hateful to us now; though it is not always easy for us to judge about the right and wrong of things which happened more than three hundred years ago. But one thing is certain about King Henry -- he had a very strong will, and not only that, but he was strong enough to get his will carried out. Some of the greatest men who ever lived in England were Henry's ministers. These men rose to great power, and it seemed as if they could rule all England, and King Henry as well. But when they came to oppose the king, each of them in turn found out that he had met with a stronger man than himself. They lost first of all their offices, and then their lives.
Nor was it only the king's ministers who found that Henry was a dangerous man to anger. King Henry reigned thirty-eight years, and during that time he was married no less than six times. His first wife, Catharine of Aragon, a Spanish princess, he divorced; his second wife, Anne Boleyn, an English lady, was put to death by her husband's command because she offended him; his third wife, Jane Seymour, also an English lady, died within two years of her marriage. His fourth wife, Anne of Cleves, a Dutch princess, he divorced. His fifth, Catharine Howard, the daughter of an English duke, fared no better than his second, for she too was beheaded by order of the king. His last wife, Catharine Parr, a daughter of an English knight, had the good fortune to outlive him.
It is the story of this strange king that we are now going to read. It is a story which is the more interesting because it took place at a time when many great changes were going on in England, and when many great men and women were living who have become famous in the history of our country.
Foreign Friends and Foes -- The Battle of the "Spurs." (Ch 36)
"For those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain."
-- Butler: "Hudibras."
The reign of Henry VIII. was a long one, lasting no less than thirty-eight years. Every part of it was marked by events which were of great interest and importance in the history of England. It is not easy in a short book like this to give a full account of all that took place; but we must be content to read about the most important things, and about those which have had most to do with making England what it is. For this reason we must give only a short space to matters which took up a long time, and which occupied much attention in the early years of Henry's reign.
These matters are those which concern the dealings of the king and his ministers with the other Kings of Europe, matters which we should now call questions of Foreign Policy. At the time when Henry VIII. came to the throne, there were three great Powers in Europe: France, Spain, and The Empire. [The Empire meant, in the time of King Henry, that part of Europe which was ruled over by The Emperor. It included a great part of what is now Germany and Austria, the Netherlands, which are now Holland and Belgium, and parts of Italy.]
A fourth Power was England, which, however, was not thought by any of the other three to be on an equal rank with them, and which indeed was not yet as powerful as any of them. The other nations of Europe were soon to find out that the best of them had found its match in the Island Kingdom; but at this time they thought of it only as a useful ally which might help a friend with a round sum of money, and with two or three thousand soldiers who would be hard to beat when they once took to fighting. Henry VII. had done something to show the Emperor and the Kings of France and Spain that England was a country to be reckoned with, and Henry VIII. was not the man to give up anything that his country had won.
He eagerly followed in the footsteps of his father, and hastened to join in the rivalry between the sovereigns of Europe. It is hard in our days to understand the way in which arrangements were made between great countries in the days of Henry VIII. For, indeed, in those days there was no trick, no deceit, no stratagem, which the ministers of the great countries of Europe were not ready to practise. Nor must it be forgotten that the kings and emperors themselves often took the chief part in making bargains and treaties, and if they did not take part themselves, they sent their favourite ministers with secret orders to act for them.
It is most wearisome to read through all the accounts of the plotting and bargaining which went on between the Kings of Europe in the first years of Henry VIII.'s reign. France, Spain, and The Empire each wanted to be master of Europe, and each in turn, in order to become master, tried to ruin the other.
At one time France sought the aid of Spain against The Empire, at another time Spain and The Empire joined forces against France, and each nation in turn tried by promises and threats to win England to its side, or to prevent her from joining its enemies. It often happened that while the King of France was promising aid and assistance to the King of England, he was secretly making just the same promises to the King of England's enemies; while, on the other hand, there is little doubt that the King of England never lost an opportunity of paying the King of France back in his own coin, and of deceiving him in his turn.
The plotting, the falsehoods, the battles, the peaces, which fill the pages of the history of this time, have been for the most part forgotten; but some of them we must not forget because they made a great difference to the history and fortunes of our country.
It must be borne in mind that at the beginning of his reign, Henry VIII. was naturally the friend and ally of the King of Spain, for he had married his brother Arthur's widow, Catharine, who we know was the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the King and Queen of Spain. The marriage of Henry with Catharine is a very important thing to remember for two reasons. The first reason is that Henry, as the son-in-law of Ferdinand of Spain, naturally became for a time the enemy of Louis XII., King of France. The second reason is a more important one still, because, as we shall see, it led to great troubles, for the disputes, which afterwards arose as to whether the marriage were legal or not, led to great events in the history of England.
Why is it so important in our history that Henry, at the beginning of his reign, was an enemy of France? It is important for two reasons. In the first place it led to a short war with France, during which a rather odd battle was fought. This battle took place near Terouenne, and is known as The Battle of the Spurs (1513).
It is called by this odd name because there was more running away than fighting, and the Frenchmen used their "spurs" a great deal more than they used their swords. It seems that the French cavalry were seized with a panic and rode off, despite the efforts of their officers to stop them. The alarm once given, it was impossible to stop the flight. The whole French army was thrown into confusion, and some of the most famous of the French nobles and soldiers were taken prisoners. Among them was the famous Chevalier Bayard, who was known throughout France for his bravery and gallantry, and who earned for himself the title of Bayard, the knight without fear and without reproach.
But out of the enmity between England and France there came a much fiercer and more important battle than the Battle of the Spurs, namely, the Battle of Flodden Field, in which the armies of England and Scotland met on the 9th of September, 1513, and in which no less than 6,000 Englishmen and 9,000 Scots lost their lives.
Flodden Field. (Ch 36)
"Still from the sire the son shall hear
Of the stem strife and carnage drear
Of Flodden's fatal field,
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear,
And broken was her shield!"
-- Scott: "Marmion."
How was it that the battle of Flodden sprang from the quarrel between Henry and Louis XII? It came about in this way.
While the English army, under King Henry, was besieging the town of Terouenne, in France, James IV., King of Scotland, managed to pick a quarrel with England. There was very little really to quarrel about. The chief matter was a complaint that Henry had refused to give up the jewels which his father, Henry VII., had left to Queen Margaret of Scotland. But James, a brave but rash man, did not need much of an excuse for going to war with the old enemies of his country, especially at a time when England was fighting against the French, who had so long been the friends of Scotland. James sent a message to King Henry ordering him to leave France; and he did more, for he sent three thousand Scotsmen to help King Louis.
King Henry sent the Scottish messenger back with a very flat refusal, but before the messenger could reach King James, the Scottish troops crossed the border, plundering and burning. A few days later the king himself at the head of a great Scottish army, which was said to number no less than a hundred thousand men, marched south from Edinburgh, and on the 22nd of August, 1513, crossed the Tweed, and a few days later fixed his camp on the side of Flodden Hill, which lies on the Cheviot Mountains. In front of him flowed the River Till.
It was not long before an English army came out to stop his further march. The Earl of Surrey called upon the northern counties to arm. His force was soon joined by Lord Thomas Howard, High Admiral of England, with 5,000 men. With an army numbering 25,000 in all, he advanced to Flodden. He saw at once that it was impossible to attack the Scottish army in front, for the deep waters of the Till would check the advance of the troops. He therefore decided to try to draw King James from the position which he had taken up.
To do this he marched his army across the Till, passing by a single narrow bridge. James has been much blamed for not attacking the English while they were crossing the river. Whatever may have been the reason for his failing to do so, it is certain that Surrey's army was allowed to cross without interference, and soon the Scots, to their dismay, saw the English army between them and their own country.
In the wonderful account which Sir Walter Scott gives of the battle in his great poem Marmion, the march of the English army across the Till is thus described:
"From Flodden ridge
The Scots beheld the English host
Leave Barmore Wood, their evening post,
And heedful watched them as they crossed
The Till by Twisel Bridge.
"High sight it is, and haughty, while
They dive into the deep defile;
Beneath the caverned cliff they fall,
Beneath the castle's airy wall.
By rock, by oak, by hawthorn fee,
Troop after troop are disappearing;
Troop after troop their banners rearing;
Upon the eastern bank you see,
Still pouring down the rocky den,
Where flows the sullen Till,
And rising from the dim-wood glen,
Standards on standards, men on men,
In slow succession still.
"And, sweeping o'er the Gothic arch,
And pressing on, in ceaseless march,
To gain the opposing hill.
That morn, to many a trumpet clang,
Twisel! thy rocks deep echo rang;
And many a chief of birth and rank,
Saint Helen! at thy fountain drank.
Thy hawthorn glade which now we see
In spring-tide bloom so lavishly,
Had then from many an axe its doom,
To give the marching columns room.
"And why stands Scotland idly now,
Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow,
Since England gains the pass the while
And struggles through the deep defile?
What checks the fiery soul of James?
Why sits that champion of the dames
Inactive on his steed,
And sees, between him and his land,
Between him and Tweed's southern strand,
His host Lord Surrey lead?"
The Scots could now no longer resist the temptation to attack the enemy. King James ordered the camp to be burnt, and under cover of the smoke he swept downwards on Surrey's army.
"From the sharp ridges of the hill,
All downward to the banks of Till,
Was wreathed in sable smoke.
Volumed and fast, and rolling far,
The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,
As down the hill they broke;
Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone,
Announced their march; their tread alone.
At times one warning trumpet blown,
At times a stifled hum,
Told England, from his mountain-throne
King James did rushing come.
Scarce could they hear or see their foes,
Until at weapon-point they close."
The battle which followed was long and fierce, but at last fortune decided in favour of the English. King James himself was left dead upon the field, surrounded by the bravest of his army, who had given up their lives in the vain attempt to save their king. No less than 9,000 Scots fell in the battle, and among the dead were members of the noblest families of Scotland.
The English did not follow up the victory, but were content that Scotland was now compelled to give up helping the French,
But the war between France and England did not last long. At that time, though friendships were quickly broken, they were quickly made again. Louis, King of France, soon found means to separate Henry from his ally the Emperor, and a peace was made between England and France in August, 1514. As a condition of the peace, Henry gave his beautiful sister Mary Tudor, then only sixteen years old, as a bride to the old King of France. Happily, Louis lived only a very short time after his marriage, and Mary at once married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, whom she had always loved.
Chapter 37. The Great Cardinal and the King's Divorce
Cardinal Wolsey.
"This Cardinal,
Though from a humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honour from his cradle.
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not;
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer;
And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
Which was a sin yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely. Ever witness for him
Those twins of learning, that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford."
-- Shakespeare: "King Henry VIII"
It was during this time of wars and treaties, when Henry was making promises to the other sovereigns of Europe, and breaking them as often as he made them, that a great man rose into fame in England. This was Thomas Wolsey, whom we usually speak of as Cardinal Wolsey.
It cannot be doubted that Wolsey was one of the greatest men of the time in which he lived, and his greatness was admitted not only in England, but throughout Europe. He was born at Ipswich in the year 1471. His father was a wool merchant, and must have been well off, for he sent his son to college at Oxford, where young Wolsey distinguished himself. He entered the Church, and soon became employed by Henry VII., who sent him on important business to the Continent. But it was not till Henry VIII. became king that Wolsey began to rise rapidly. The new king found in him the most agreeable of companions and the wisest of counsellors. No reward seemed too great for the king's favourite, and from one high office he passed on to another.
Soon Wolsey became the wealthiest and the most powerful man in England next to the king. In 1515 the Pope made him a Cardinal, and it seemed at length as if Wolsey had obtained all that even he could ever wish for. Wherever the king went, Wolsey accompanied him. Treaties were made by the advice of the Cardinal, and sometimes his name was put on treaties by the side of that of the king, as if he were indeed king himself, and not a subject. The most wonderful stories are told of his wealth and of the splendid state in which he lived.
Here is an account of the great man's household, taken from the Chronicle of King Henry VIII.: "You shall understand that he had in his hall continually three boards, kept with their several principal officers, that is to say, a 'steward' which was always a priest; a 'treasurer' a knight; and a 'controller' an esquire; also a 'cofferer' being a doctor; three 'marshalls'; three 'yeomen ushers' in the hall, besides two 'grooms,' and 'almoners.' Then in the hall kitchen, two 'clerks of the kitchen,' a 'clerk controller,' a 'surveyor of the dresser,' a 'clerk of the spicery,' the which together kept also a continual mess in the hall.
"Also in his hall kitchen he had of 'master cooks ' two, and of other 'cooks,' 'labourers,' and 'children of the kitchen,' twelve persons; four 'yeomen of the silver scullery,' two 'yeomen of the pastry,' with two other 'pastelers' under the yeomen. Then in his prime kitchen a 'master cook,' who went daily in velvet or in satin, with a chain of gold."
And so the list goes on for a whole long page of the Chronicle, including, among many other officers and servants, a "yeoman of the barge," a "master of the horse," a "master of the children," "crossbearers," "singers," "cup-bearers," "carvers," a "herald," a "keeper of the tents," an "apothecary," a "physician," sixteen "stable grooms," twenty-four "waiters," sixteen "chaplains," a "chaff-wax," four "minstrels," and a "clerk of the green cloth."
When, in the year 1520, King Henry met Francis I., King of France, near Calais, Wolsey was the foremost figure among the English who accompanied the king. The meeting itself was one that was long remembered. It is known in history as The Field of the Cloth of Gold, so splendid were the dresses which were worn by the two kings and by the gorgeous train of nobles who accompanied them. The very tents in which the two kings and their followers lived during the whole time of the festivities were of cloth of gold and of embroidery. There are pictures which give us some idea of this famous meeting between the kings of England and France, and both in the pictures and in the written accounts it is always the great Cardinal Wolsey who takes the foremost place after the king.
But though Wolsey was rich, he was certainly generous with his money. He built a splendid palace at Hampton Court, near London, and afterwards gave it to the king. If we want to know what Hampton Court Palace was like, we have only to take the train from Waterloo Station in London to Hampton Court, a journey of not more than forty-five minutes; and we can see for ourselves the great and beautiful building.
Nor is Hampton Court the only mark of Wolsey's generosity. In his own town of Ipswich he founded a Grammar School, which exists to this day. At Oxford he built the great and beautiful college first called Cardinal College, and now known as Christ Church. Nor was this all. He did much to assist learned men, and to help on education. It is clear that Wolsey made a wise use of his wealth; but, unhappily for himself, like many another man, he was never contented with the success he had won while there was still anything more to win. He had been made Bishop, Cardinal, Chancellor, but there was one thing more he had set his heart on, and that was to be made Pope. It was this ambition which at last brought about his downfall.
The Fall of Wolsey. (Ch 37)
"O Cromwell, Cromwell!
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, He would not in my age
Have left me naked to my enemies."
-- Shakespeare: "King Henry VIII."
To understand how it was that Wolsey's wish to become Pope led to his downfall we must go back to the history of King Henry himself. It must be remembered that Henry had married, when he was quite young, Catharine of Aragon, daughter of the King and Queen of Spain. For many years the king and queen had lived together in happiness, or, at any rate, without quarrelling. They had only one child, a girl, who was born in 1516, and who was called Mary.
They had no son, and this made Henry discontented, for he longed for a son to come after him on the throne; and as time went on, Henry grew tired of his queen, and wished to put her away, and marry in her stead Anne Boleyn, one of Queen Catharine's ladies-in-waiting. At that time it was only possible for a man to put away his wife, or, as we call it, to get a divorce, by leave of the Pope, and unless Henry could get the leave of the Pope, he could not get rid of Catharine. The king asked the Pope to give him leave, saying that there was a good reason for a divorce, because it was against the laws of the Church that a man should marry his brother's widow.
Now Henry himself had married his brother's widow, for Catharine had been married to Arthur before she married Henry. It was true that Henry himself had been anxious to marry Catharine, and had got the Pope's special leave to do so at the time. But now all this seemed to be forgotten, and he was only too glad of an excuse which would enable him to get what he wanted. He decided to send Cardinal Wolsey to Rome to get the consent of the Pope, but when Wolsey got to Rome he found himself in a very hard position.
The Pope, who was named Clement VII., was at that time very much afraid of the Emperor Charles V., who had a great many soldiers in Italy, and could have done much harm to the Pope if he wished. But Charles was the nephew of Queen Catharine, and, naturally enough, he was very angry with King Henry for wishing to divorce his aunt. Wolsey would have been glad to serve his king and to get the Pope's consent, but at the same time he hoped some day to become Pope himself, and he did not therefore like to offend Clement. The Pope, in his turn, feared to offend the Emperor Charles; and thus it happened that Wolsey had at last to come back to King Henry and to tell him that he had failed in his errand, and that the Pope had refused to agree to the divorce.
From that day Henry determined that he would be rid of Wolsey. As long as Wolsey would serve him and help him to get his way, he was willing to give him power and wealth; but now that the Cardinal had failed to gain what his master longed for, Henry was ready to forsake him and ruin him.
It was not long before Henry found excuses for showing his displeasure. He first charged Wolsey with breaking the law by coming into the kingdom of England as a servant of the Pope, and not of the King of England. It is true that by the law of England the Pope has no authority in our Island, but it must not be forgotten that it was Henry himself who had welcomed Wolsey, when he first came, as the Pope's Legate or Ambassador, and that he had been glad enough to make use of his services.
Indeed, the charge was only an excuse. The king withdrew his favour from the Cardinal. In October, 1529, Wolsey was forced to give up the Great Seal, which was the sign of his office as Lord Chancellor of England. He sought to win back Henry's favour by giving up to him all his wealth, houses, and estates, and asking leave to go and live in his own bishopric. But the king would show no mercy. Parliament joined in the attack upon the fallen minister, and brought charges against him.
At last, after he had lost nearly all his property, Wolsey received a pardon for the crimes he was declared to have committed, and he was allowed to live at Richmond, near London. But he had many enemies, and soon the king's anger was stirred up against him again. In November, 1530, he was arrested in York, by order of the king, on a charge of high treason. An order was given to the Earl of Northumberland to bring him to London, but on the way Wolsey fell sick. Worn out, and at the point of death, he reached Leicester Abbey, where he was received by the abbot and monks.
Broken down in health and in spirit, he felt that death was approaching. It is said that his dying words were words of loyalty and good advice to the king who had treated him so unjustly, for he felt to the last that Henry had been most unjust to him. "Had I," said the dying cardinal, "but served my God as diligently as I have served my king, He would not have given me over in my grey hairs. But this is the just reward that I must receive for my diligent pains and study, not regarding my service to God, but only to my king." Thus died this great man (1530), who, with all his faults, should be remembered as one who loved England well and served her faithfully.
"The Defender of the Faith." (Ch 37)
"The majestic lord
That broke the bonds of Rome."
-- Gray: "Installation Ode."
But it must not be supposed that because King Henry had not got what he wanted by sending Cardinal Wolsey to the Pope he had given up his object, or that he was one bit less determined than before to get rid of his wife, Queen Catharine, and to marry Anne Boleyn.
We have now to learn how it was that the king gained the object which he had so much at heart; but in order to understand this we shall have to go back a little and to read about things which had been happening not only in England, but in other countries in Europe. So long as Henry believed that he could get the Pope's consent to the divorce, he was quite ready to admit that the Pope, and the Pope alone, had the right to give him leave to put away his wife. In fact, so ready was he to support the power of the Pope, that not long before Wolsey's journey to Rome, Henry had gone so far as to write a book which was intended to prove to all the world that the Pope was the only true head of the Church.
The Pope, on his side, was so pleased to find the King of England writing a book on his behalf, that he declared from that day forward, the King of England should be known as The Defender of the Faith. When we read what happened later in the history of Henry's reign, we shall think this a very strange title for the king to possess, but having once got the title, Henry kept it; and not only did Henry keep it, but so did all the kings and queens of England who came after him, and who certainly could not be called "Defenders of the Faith" in the sense in which Pope Clement used the words.
If we put our hand in our pocket and are lucky enough to find there a penny or a shilling, we shall see on it the letters "F. D." These are the first letters of two Latin words [Fidei Defensor] which mean "Defender of the Faith"; and it is because of the book which Henry VIII. wrote in defence of the Pope nearly four hundred years ago that King Edward VII. now has among his titles that of "Defender of the Faith."
But though Henry was quite willing to support the Pope while the Pope supported him, he very soon changed his view when he found that neither threats nor entreaties could make Clement give his permission for the divorce. Henry soon made up his mind that if he could not get what he wanted with the Pope's help, he would get it without it.
At first sight it is not easy to see why this quarrel between the king and the Pope over a question such as that of the king's marriage should be of great importance in the history of England, nor why it should be put into a book like this, which is only long enough to contain an account of the chief events that took place. But we shall see as we read on that this quarrel had very important results, and led to changes in England of which the consequences are felt by every English man and woman who is alive at this day.
As soon as Henry found that Clement would not consent to the divorce, he sent round to all the great Universities of Europe to ask the opinion of the learned men about the question. He thought that if he could get the learned men in all the Universities to say that the marriage with Catharine was against the law, the Pope would be obliged to change his opinion, and to give his consent. But, unluckily, most of the Universities either sent no answer at all, or sent the very answer which Henry did not wish to receive. They said that the marriage was according to law, and that Henry had no right to divorce Catharine.
And now at last Henry was driven to take a step which in those days was a very bold one. Up to that time the Pope had claimed to have authority over all the Christian countries of Europe, and to be Head of the Church in all these countries. It was because he claimed to be Head of the Church in England that he had forbidden Henry to get rid of Catharine.
As long as Henry was willing to admit that the Pope had a right to interfere in England, it was plain that he could not get his own way. But as he was determined to get his own way, it was not unnatural that he should soon begin to consider whether, after all, a King of England were bound to obey the Pope, and whether it would not be a good thing to say once for all that the King of England was not bound to obey any foreigner.
This was just the thought that did come into Henry's mind. It very often happens that when kings or other people in a high position, wish very much to be told that something they want to do is right, they soon find someone to tell them just what they want to hear. This was what happened in Henry's case. He wanted very much to be told that the time had come when the King of England ought no longer to obey the Pope, and two men came forward at that very moment to tell him that it was his duty to do exactly what he wanted to do.
These two men became very famous in later years. One of them was Thomas Cranmer, a clergyman, who was at this time a tutor in a private family. The other was Thomas Cromwell, who had been secretary to Cardinal Wolsey. It was Thomas Cranmer who advised the king not to trouble any longer about what the Pope said, but to ask the opinion of the learned men in the Universities.
Thomas Cromwell went farther than Cranmer, for he said that if the king were wise he would be his own master; that there was not room for two masters in England, and that Henry had only got to say that he was Head of the Church just as much as he was Head of the Army, and of the Parliament, and of the Government of the country, and there would be an end of all the difficulty. He went on to say that if Henry wanted an example to follow he had only to look to Germany, and there he would see that other Christian princes had already taken the bold step which he now advised.
Nothing pleases a man better than to receive advice which exactly falls in with his own views. Both Cranmer and Cromwell were richly rewarded for what they had done. Cranmer before long was made a bishop, and only two years later (1533) was raised to the high office of Archbishop of Canterbury. Cromwell was chosen by the king as his most trusted minister, and for many years held as great a power in England as his master, Cardinal Wolsey, had done before him.
Chapter 38. The Protestant Reformation
Martin Luther.
"We have got our open Bible, we have got faith and love, we can preach the Gospel of the grace of God." -- Luther.
When Thomas Cromwell told Henry that there were Christian princes in Europe who had already declared they would no longer obey the orders of the Pope, he said what was quite true. For some years past a great movement had been going on in Europe, and great changes had been taking place in Germany, and in The Netherlands, [Now called Holland and Belgium.] and in France.
These great changes soon reached England, and they are so important, and have had so much to do with the history of our country and the lives of our countrymen, that the whole of this chapter must be given up to an account of what the changes were, and what were the results which followed them.
The great movement which has just been mentioned is known in history as the Protestant Reformation, and it is to the Protestant Reformation that we owe the fact that England and Scotland are among the great Protestant countries of the world. In the year 1517 a German monk named Martin Luther began to attack the Pope and the Church. He said that the teaching of the Church was no longer what it ought to be, and that the priests withheld knowledge from the people which they had no right to withhold.
The Pope had always forbidden the Bible to be freely translated, and to be read by the people in languages which they could understand. It was only allowed to be printed in Greek or in Latin. Luther said that it ought to be translated into German, English, and French, so that Germans, Englishmen, and Frenchmen, and, indeed, all other people, might read the Scriptures in a language which they could understand. He complained, too, of many things which were done by the bishops and the priests, and he complained especially that persons were allowed to go about the country telling men that if they gave them a sum of money they would obtain a pardon for their sins. Luther said that no man could pardon the sins of another man, and that it was a wicked thing to buy and sell these pretended pardons, or indulgences, as they were called.
It was not long before a great quarrel broke out between the Pope on one side and Luther on the other. The Pope tried hard to put down the German monk, but Luther was a bold man and went about fearlessly preaching and teaching. He said that the time had come when the Christian Church ought to be altered, or reformed; and he objected to, or protested against, the way in which the Church was governed at that time by the Pope. It was because Luther made this protest, and tried to bring about this reform, that those who agreed with him were called Protestants and Reformers. We shall see that the teaching and preaching of Luther, though it was begun in Germany, at length reached England, and that it is to this German monk that we owe largely the Protestant Reformation.
Luther's preaching convinced many people in Germany, and several of the German princes became members of the Reformed Church. A fierce struggle began between the Protestants or Reformers on the one side, and the Roman Catholics, or supporters of the Pope, on the other; and there was war for many years in Germany, France, and the Netherlands.
There is not room, however, in this book to tell the story of the Reformation in Germany. We must pass on to the story of the Reformation in England; but before we leave Martin Luther behind altogether, we shall do well to try and make a picture to ourselves of what this great man was like.
We can get some idea of what he was like from the picture on page 310. The description of those who saw him and knew him tells us even more than the picture. He was a man of good stature and of great strength, a man who feared nothing, and whose courage kept him up through all the troubles and dangers through which he passed. His face was rugged and massive; it was the face of a man who was honest as the day, full of determination, and quite without fear. For many years Luther's life was in constant danger; never for an instant, however, did he hold back from the work he had undertaken on account of the danger which threatened him.
There are many things we see and hear around us every day which should remind us of Martin Luther, and which we owe in part to the work he did. There is one thing which we owe to him that many of us know, though perhaps all those who know it are not aware that it had anything to do with the great Reformer. Luther wrote many books, of which some are now forgotten; but there is one thing Luther wrote and which is not forgotten, either in Luther's own land or in this country. This is the set of verses known as Luther's Hymn. In German the hymn begins like this:
"Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott."
Here are two verses of the hymn in its English form:
"A safe stronghold our God is still,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He'll help us clear from all the ill
That hath us now o'ertaken.
The ancient prince of hell
Hath risen with purpose fell;
Strong mail of craft and power
He weareth in this hour:
On earth is not his fellow.
"With force of arms we nothing can,
Full soon were we down-ridden;
But for us fights the proper Man,
Whom God Himself hath bidden.
Ask ye, who is this same?
Christ Jesus is His name,
The Lord Sabaoth's Son:
He and no other one
Shall conquer in the battle."
The "New Learning" -- Erasmus, Colet, and More. (Ch 38)
"The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways."
-- Tennyson: "The Passing of Arthur."
It was not long before the teaching of Luther reached England. It was the custom at that time for students to go about from one great University to another, learning what they could from the most famous teachers in each place. English students soon brought to England an account of the New Teaching, or "New Learning."
By this time, too, many books were printed, and thus the writings of Luther and of those who agreed with him were brought over to England, and became known to many persons. Nor was the teaching of Luther the only thing which threatened the Roman Catholic Church, Before the printing press was invented, nearly all those who could read and write were priests or monks, and the few books which were written were generally kept in the churches or monasteries. It was not wonderful, therefore, that people got to think that books, and the learning that was to be found in books, belonged to the Church only, and that common people, who were not priests or monks, had no business to meddle with books or with book-learning.
But when the printing press had once been invented there came a great change. Every year numbers of new books were brought out, and these books were openly sold for money; so that anyone who could afford it could buy a copy and learn for himself those things which, hitherto, people had only been able to learn through the priests and the monks. All over Europe, and in England, men now began to read books and to explain them in their own way, and they began to find out many things that the priests had never told them. It was a new thing for people to think for themselves, and the priests, who had so long been accustomed to make people think in their way, did not like to see so many new books printed and read.
But those who loved the new books and longed to find out all that was in them, refused to stop reading and studying, even though the Pope and the priests ordered them to do so. And thus it came about that, in addition to Luther and his friends, the Pope found another set of people who did not admit that he had the right to give orders and to say what was right and what was wrong. Among those who were the foremost to bring the "New Learning" into England were three men, Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, and Colet.
Erasmus was a native of Rotterdam, or what we should now call a Dutchman. He was a great student, and he could not only read Latin easily, but he could write most beautiful Latin also. He wrote many books, which became very famous in his time. The chief thing that he taught in all of them was that men ought to think for themselves, and not merely to believe things to be true because their fathers before them, or the priest, or the Pope, or anyone else, said they were true.
Although Erasmus was a Dutchman, he spent a great deal of his time in England. He was a great friend of Sir Thomas More, and he used to spend much time with More at Oxford and elsewhere. He also wrote many letters to Sir Thomas More, and received many letters from him in return. The writings of Erasmus are very clever and witty. A great deal of them is taken up in laughing at the ignorance of the people who lived in his time, and in showing them how ready they had been to believe just what they were told without taking the trouble to find out whether it were true or false.
Thomas More, who afterwards became Sir Thomas More, is known in English history, not only as the friend of Erasmus, but as a good and noble Englishman, who lived a beautiful life and died a noble death. He first began life as a lawyer. In the reign of Henry VII. he became a Member of Parliament, and fourteen years after Henry VIII. came to the throne he was made Speaker of the House of Commons. In 1529 he was made Lord Chancellor, and in 1535 he was beheaded by order of the king, as we shall read a little farther on.
John Colet was a great scholar. He studied at the University of Oxford, and went abroad to Italy and to Paris to learn Greek. In Paris he made friends with Erasmus. He had already become a friend of More's at Oxford. In the twentieth year of King Henry VII.'s reign (1505) he was made Dean of St. Paul's. His name is, or ought to be, very well known to many English boys in our day.
Up to a few years ago there stood a great building in St. Paul's Churchyard, opposite the Cathedral of St. Paul's. This building was St. Paul's School, one of the great public schools of England. It was John Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, who founded St. Paul's School. The school no longer stands in the old place in St. Paul's Churchyard, but has been moved to another part of London, where there is more space and fresher air; but it is to be hoped that the "Paulines," as the boys of St. Paul's call themselves, still remember and honour the name of their founder, John Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, the friend of Erasmus and Sir Thomas More.
Chapter 39. Henry as Head of the Church
Henry's Quarrel with the Pope, and What It Led to.
"Henry the Eighth by the Grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, and Supreme Head on Earth of the Church of England, and Ireland." -- Henry's title, taken from Royal Letters Patent to Sir G. Cheinie.
Now that we have read about Luther and the Protestants, and about Erasmus and the friends of the New Learning, it is time to go back to the story of Henry VIII. in England. In the previous chapter we read about Henry's quarrel with Pope Clement about the divorce which Henry wanted, but which Clement would not allow him to have. We read also how Thomas Cranmer and Thomas Cromwell had given the same advice to King Henry. "If," said Thomas Cromwell, "you cannot do what you want with the Pope's leave, why not do it without? All you have to do is to say that the Pope has no right to give orders to the King of England, and that the king, and not the Pope, is at the head of the English Church."
This advice fell in with Henry's own wishes; but perhaps if he had had to fight alone against the Pope, without anyone on his side, he might have feared to follow Thomas Cromwell's advice; for the power of the Pope was very great, both in England and on the Continent. But, as we have just read in the last chapter, the Pope had already made two sets of enemies.
In the first place there were Luther and his friends the Protestants, in the second place there were men like Erasmus and More, who, though they had not quarrelled with the Pope, were not liked by many of the priests on account of the books they wrote and the ideas they taught. What then could be more natural than that Henry should become the friend of the Pope's enemies? And this, indeed, was just what happened.
The king, who but a few years before had been called "Defender of the Faith," now declared that whether the Pope gave his consent to the divorce or not did not matter. The King of England, he said, was the Head of the Church of England, and the Pope had no right to interfere. He allowed the Protestant preachers, whom the Pope had condemned, to come into England and to remain there unharmed. He made Sir Thomas More Lord Chancellor, and, what was more than all, he allowed the Reformers, or Protestants, to translate the Bible into English, and gave permission for the Bible to be freely read in all the churches.
But it must not be supposed that Henry had done all this to please either Luther and the Protestants, or Erasmus and the learned men. He had done it in order to get his own way, and to please himself. In May, 1533, Cranmer declared Catharine to be divorced. The king had already married Anne Boleyn, and Cranmer declared that the marriage was lawful, and so at last Henry got his way. Pope Clement was very angry, and declared that neither Henry nor Cranmer had any right to act without his leave.
But now that Henry had gone so far, he was not going back. If the Pope were to be his enemy, he determined that he in his turn would show himself a bitter enemy to the Pope. He commanded everyone to admit that he alone was Head of the Church of England. Those who would not submit were thrown into prison and their property was taken from them. Parliament was called together, and declared that the king was right and the Pope wrong, and Henry, having got Parliament on his side, was determined at any cost to make everyone bow to his will.
Among the victims of his anger were some of the worthiest and noblest men in England. John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor, were among the best friends of the king. They were ready to serve him, and they were ready to obey him. But there was one thing they would not do. They would not do what they believed to be wrong, nor say what they believed to be false, even though the king bade them.
Neither More nor Fisher believed that the king had any right to disobey the Pope, and to make himself Head of the Church; and when they were called upon to swear that they would obey Henry as Head of the Church, they both of them refused to do so. Neither the age of Fisher (for the bishop was seventy-six) nor the goodness and faithful service of More could protect them from the king's fury. They were thrown into the Tower, and while they were there, Parliament, to please the king, declared them guilty of treason, and they were condemned to death, Fisher was executed at the Tower on June 22nd, 1535. It was not till a fortnight later, July 6th, that More met his fate.
But Fisher and Sir Thomas More were not the only victims of the king's savage temper. Anne Boleyn, his beautiful wife, for whom Henry had not feared to quarrel with the Pope, was among the first to suffer. The king charged her with not being true to him; she was tried and condemned to death, and on May 19th, 1536, was executed at the Tower.
She left behind her one child, who was christened Elizabeth, and who afterwards became very famous in English history as Queen Elizabeth. The day after Anne Boleyn's execution Henry married Jane Seymour, who had been one of Anne's ladies, and who was the daughter of Sir John Seymour, a Wiltshire gentleman.
The "Hammer of the Monks." (Ch 39)
"It has come to our ears, being at once publicly notorious, and brought before us on the testimony of many witnesses worthy of credit, that you, the Abbot before mentioned, have been of long time noted and diffamed, and do yet continue so noted, of simony, * of usury, of dilapidation and waste of the goods, revenues, and possessions of the said monastery, and of certain other enormous crimes and excesses hereafter written." -- Letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury to the Abbot of St. Albans, 1489.
[Simony: the crime of selling offices/positions in the Church for money.]
But though Anne Boleyn was dead, Henry's quarrel with the Pope was not at an end. Indeed, he had already found out that by keeping up his dispute with the Pope, he had always an easy way of growing rich left open to him. Throughout all England at that time there were great buildings known as Monasteries and Nunneries, which belonged to the Church, and in which monks and nuns used to live.
Many of these monasteries and nunneries had become very rich, and some of the best land in England belonged to them. Some of the monks lived good lives, and did good work in teaching and helping the poor among whom they lived. There were others who lived bad lives, and spent their money upon themselves, and who were a disgrace to the Church to which they belonged.
When Henry made up his mind to destroy the monasteries and nunneries, it was not hard for him to find out many bad things which could truly be said of the monks and nuns, and which he could use as an excuse for taking away their property.
But there can be no doubt that what made Henry most anxious to destroy the monasteries and nunneries was the great wealth which they possessed. It was Thomas Cromwell who was foremost in this work, and he soon won Henry's favour by the zeal which he showed. More than 800 monasteries and nunneries were broken up and destroyed, and the great wealth which belonged to them was seized by the king.
Perhaps, if this money had been wisely used for the good of the country, there would have been little to complain of, but Henry and Cromwell were most extravagant. Very large sums of money and the greater part of the lands which had belonged to the monks were given by the king to his favourites, and most of what he did not give away he kept for himself. Many of the most beautiful abbeys and churches were allowed to fall into ruin, and the schools which had been kept by the monks were in many cases shut up. So bitter was Thomas Cromwell against the monks, and so fiercely did he attack the monasteries, that he earned the name of The Hammer of the Monks, by which was meant that he had hammered and crushed them to pieces.
But though the monks and nuns had in many cases ceased to do good, it is not wonderful that they had friends throughout the country. In many places they had helped the poor, in others they had taught those who had no other teachers, and they had allies among the great nobles. It is easy to understand, therefore, why when Thomas Cromwell "hammered" the monasteries to pieces he should have made many enemies. In Lincolnshire the friends of the monks rose in rebellion, but were soon put down by the king's friends.
It is interesting and amusing to read the answer which King Henry gave to the people of Lincolnshire when they brought their grievances before him. If we read it we shall understand how great a person the King of England was in those days, and how little the people of the country had to do with its government. This is what the king said to the people of Lincolnshire:
"THE KINGES ANSWER TO THE REBELLES.
"First we begyn and make answere to the foure and sixe articles, because upon them [de]pendeth much of the rest. Concernyng chosyng of counsylors, I never have read, heard, nor knowne, that princes, counsailors and prelates should be appoynted by rude and ignorant common people, nor that they wer persones mete [fit], nor of the abilitie to discerne and choose mete and sufficient counsailors for a prince; how presumpteous then are ye, the rude commons of one shire, and that one of the most brute and beastly of the whole realme, and of the least experience, to fynd faute with your Prince . . ."
A fiercer rebellion than that in Lincolnshire broke out in Yorkshire (1536-7), and a large army, collected from all parts of the North, was soon gathered together. The rebels marched with priests at their head carrying crosses and banners, and the priests promised their blessing to those who took part in the rebellion. The march of this northern army was called the Pilgrimage of Grace. At first it seemed as if the friends of the king would be beaten, but before long the royal troops succeeded in driving back the rebels, many of whom were taken and put to death, while the rest returned peaceably to their homes.
It is not easy to understand the part which Henry himself played at this time. Although he was an enemy of the Pope, he would not join openly with the Reformers. On one thing, however, he was determined, and that was that he was the Head of the Church of England, and indeed, head of everything else in England. It soon became clear that nobody was safe who dared to say or to do anything against the will of the king. At the same time, it is fair to King Henry to say that he did not interfere with those who did not interfere with him, and during his reign the number of Protestants in England grew steadily larger.
Anne of Cleves -- The Fall of Thomas Cromwell. (Ch 39)
"For marriage is a matter of more worth
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship."
-- Shakespeare: "Henry VI.," Part I.
In 1537 was born Prince Edward, the only son of Henry's third wife, Jane Seymour. Henry was delighted at the birth of a son, and the child was at once proclaimed Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall, and Earl of Chester. Farther on in this book we shall read how this little prince became Edward VI., King of England.
This is how the joyful event was spoken of:
"THE BIRTH OF EDWARD VI.
"In Octobre on Saint Edwardes eve was borne at Hampton Courte the noble Impe [child], prince Edward whose Godfathers at the Christenyng were the Archbishop of Canterbourie, and the Duke of Norffolk, and his Godmother, the Lady Mary, the Kynges daughter, and at the bishoping [christening] was Godfather the Duke of Suffolk; at the birth of this noble prince was great fires made through the whole realme and great joye made with thanks givying to almightie God whiche hath sent so noble a prince to succeed in the crowne of this Realme; But Lorde what lamentacion shortly after was made for the death of his noble and gracious mother, quene Jane, which departed out of this life the fourtene day of Octobre, next following . . . ."
For so it was, twelve days after the birth of Prince Edward, his mother, Jane Seymour, died.
It was two years before King Henry married again, and this time the wife whom he chose was a foreigner. Her name was Anne of Cleves, daughter of the Duke of Cleves, one of the Protestant princes of Germany. It was Thomas Cromwell who advised the king to marry Anne of Cleves. The friends of the Pope were very angry with Cromwell, and he thought he would be safe from their anger if he could persuade the king to marry a Protestant wife.
It was said that Anne was very beautiful; and a picture was shown to the king which seemed to prove that what had been said of her was true. But when the Queen came to England, and Henry saw her with his own eyes, he found she was exceedingly plain; and not only that, but she could not speak a single word of anything but German, which Henry himself could not understand. The king could not refuse to marry Anne, according to his promise, but it was not long before he made up his mind to get rid of her.
Meanwhile he could not conceal his anger against Cromwell, who had led him into the marriage, and when Cromwell's enemies brought accusations against him, Henry gladly listened to them. Cromwell was arrested, tried for high treason, and executed (1540). He had long had few friends save the king, and now the king deserted him as he had deserted Wolsey. As soon as Cromwell was dead, Henry divorced Anne of Cleves. He treated her kindly, and gave her a house to live in, and money to keep it up. She lived quietly in England for seventeen years after her divorce, and long after Henry's death.
A month after he had got rid of Anne of Cleves, Henry married his fifth wife, Catharine Howard, niece of the Duke of Norfolk. In less than eighteen months, Catharine had shared the fate of Anne Boleyn. Parliament, as usual, was ready to undertake any shameful and cruel work which the king ordered it to perform. Catharine was condemned by Parliament, January, 1542, and was beheaded in the following month.
It was not till the year 1543, eighteen months later, that the king married his sixth and last wife. This was Catharine Parr, a widow, and daughter of Sir Thomas Parr, to whom Henry was married in his fifty-third year. This lady had the good fortune to outlive her husband, and died in the reign of Edward VI. (1548).
Ireland, Scotland, and France. (Ch 39)
"There's a saying, very old and true,
If that you will France win,
Then with Scotland first begin."
-- Shakespeare: "Henry V."
Before we leave the reign of Henry VIII. altogether, we must turn our attention for a short time to what took place during the last part of that reign in Ireland, Scotland, and France. In Ireland a rebellion broke out. At the head of it was Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, the son of the Earl of Kildare. An English army was sent over, and after a long and fierce campaign, in which great cruelties were committed on both sides, the revolt was put down. The authority of England was now fixed more firmly in Ireland than it had ever been before, and Henry was the first of the English kings to take the title of King of Ireland (1542).
The troubles in Scotland were more serious. The party which then held power in Scotland had at its head Cardinal Beaton, who looked upon King Henry as one of the worst enemies of the Roman Catholic Church. Beaton and all his friends were ready to join in any war against the King of England. At the same time there were already many Reformers in Scotland who hated Cardinal Beaton, and who refused to help him against England. These quarrels between different parties in Scotland proved to be of advantage to England, for they led to much fighting in Scotland, and weakened the attack of the Scots upon England.
However, it was not long before an excuse was found for war between the two countries. James V. of Scotland marched southwards at the head of an army, but his troops declined to follow him into England. Some of them also refused to obey the orders of the general whom the king appointed. They threw down their arms, and while all was confusion, the English troops attacked and defeated them.
It was while Scotland was suffering from these troubles that an event took place which proved to be of great importance, both to England and to Scotland. On the 7th of December, 1542, was born Mary, daughter of James V, King of Scotland, and of Mary of Guise, his queen. We shall read much more about this little Princess Mary, who afterwards became famous under the name of Mary, Queen of Scots. Indeed, it was not long before the little princess became a queen. Only seven days after she was born, her father, James, died, and Mary became from that day the rightful Queen of Scotland.
Henry very soon found himself at war both with Scotland and with France. He sent an army into France to help the Emperor Charles against Francis I., King of France, but little came of the expedition. The emperor found that Henry was much more anxious to take Boulogne for himself than to help him to gain the object he had in view, and to capture the city of Paris.
Charles and Francis before long came to a separate agreement without consulting Henry, and the King of England found himself without an ally. For the first time for many a year the French fleet attacked the shores of England, and French troops actually landed in the Isle of Wight, but were driven back by the inhabitants. The war came to an end in 1546, and all that Henry had gained was the capture of Boulogne, which was taken after a long siege.
Nor did Henry meet with much more success in Scotland. He had demanded that the little Queen of Scots should be given in marriage to his son Edward, and this was agreed to by treaty in 1543. Both Edward and Mary were still quite young children. Henry required that the Queen should be sent into England for safe keeping. The Roman Catholic party in Scotland, under Cardinal Beaton, naturally refused to give her up. Henry sent the Duke of Norfolk with an army and he found friends amongst the Protestant party across the Border. But the expedition was not a success, and the English troops were withdrawn without having succeeded in their object.
In the same year Cardinal Beaton was murdered. It was said by some that he had been murdered by Henry's wish; but though his death was a great blow to the Roman Catholic party in Scotland, and though it led to a fierce conflict in that country, it did not make the Scots more willing to give up their queen to King Henry.
About Ships, Flags, and Soldiers. (Ch 39)
"Saint George he is for England
Saint Denys is for France."
-- Old Song.
The wars of which we have just spoken were not very important in themselves, and led to no great results at the time, but for one thing they ought to be remembered. Much of the fighting, both with France and with Scotland, had been fighting at sea, and for the first time we find that royal ships were built by order of the king for the special purpose of fighting at sea. One of the finest of these ships was the "Great Harry," of 1,000 tons. She carried twenty-three great guns, and some of her cannon carried shot weighing thirty pounds, which is heavier than most of the cannon-balls which were used at the battle of Trafalgar nearly three hundred years later. Some of the cannon made in this reign weighed as much as five tons.
It was Henry who first made a regular payment to soldiers who served in the ships of the Royal Navy; and the famous corps of the Royal Marines traces back its history to this time.
It was Henry also who first ordered that every king's ship should fly, at the masthead and at the bowsprit, the flag with the Red Cross on the white ground, which is called the Cross of St. George. This flag is now carried on every admiral's ship in the British Navy, and the red St. George's Cross may be seen in the middle of the Union Jack, if we look at the coloured picture at the beginning of this book.
There is an old picture of a seafight, which took place in the reign of Henry VIII., between Lord Howard, High Admiral of England, and Sir Andrew Barton, a Scottish privateer. In this picture the English ships may be seen with the red St. George's Cross for their flag, and the Scottish ships with the white Cross or Saltire of St. Andrew. In the flag which is now carried by all ships in the Royal Navy these two crosses are joined together.
It was in the year 1547 that Henry died. He was fifty-five years of age, and had reigned over thirty-seven years. Before his death he had made a will declaring that his son Edward should succeed him on the throne; that after Edward should come his elder daughter Mary, and that after Mary should come his second daughter, Elizabeth.
Chapter 40. Edward VI. 1547-1553
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Principal events during the during the reign of Edward VI: |
Lord Protector Somerset. (Ch 40)
"THIRD CITIZEN. Woe to the land that's governed by a child!
FIRST CITIZEN. So stood the State, when Henry the Sixth
Was crowned in Paris but at nine months old.
THIRD CITIZEN. Stood the State so? No, no, good friends, God wot:
For then this land was famously enrich'd
With politic grave counsel: then the King
Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.
FIRST CITIZEN. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother.
THIRD CITIZEN. Better it were, they all came by his father."
-- Shakespeare: "King Richard III."
We now begin the story of the reign of Edward VI. It was a short reign, lasting only six years, but it has an important place in the history of England. In order to understand the events which took place in these six years, we must go back a little and recall what we know about the new king. Of all Henry VIII.'s six wives, the one whom he had probably loved the best was Jane Seymour; and one of the reasons why Henry loved the memory of Jane so much was because she was the mother of his only son.
It was this son, who was born on the 12th October, 1537, who now became King of England at the age of eight years. It must not be forgotten that though Henry had only one son he had two daughters, Mary, the daughter of Catharine of Aragon, and Elizabeth, daughter of Anne Boleyn. But though Mary and Elizabeth were both older than their brother Edward, Edward came to the throne before either of them, according to the law of England, which always gave the sons the right to succeed before the daughters.
Jane Seymour was dead, but she had many relations who were still alive. We shall see that these relations played a very important part in the reign of the new king. In order to show his affection for his wife, Henry had given great rewards to her relations, and had placed them in high offices. Her eldest brother, Edward Seymour, was made Earl of Hertford; another relation, Sir John Russell, was made Lord Russell; while a third was made High Admiral of England. Now it so happened that though Jane Seymour was not a Protestant herself, most of her relations belonged to the Protestant party. Among these, Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, was the most powerful.
As the young king was quite a child, it was clear that for some years at least he would have to be guided and advised by others. It was soon seen that the Earl of Hertford had made up his mind that he would become the chief adviser to his little nephew. He persuaded the king's Council to declare him to be Lord Protector of the king, and to bestow upon him in the name of the king the title of Duke, of Somerset. It is under the name of the Duke of Somerset that we hear about Edward Seymour during King Edward's reign.
King Edward had been a brought up as a Protestant; and as the Duke of Somerset, who now really ruled the kingdom in the king's name, was also a Protestant, the Reformers in England began to hope that their cause would win the day. Nor were they disappointed, for it was during the reign of Edward VI. that the Reformed Church really took the place of the Roman Catholic Church in England.
But the first work which occupied the Protector was the work of war. It had been agreed that poor little King Edward should marry Mary Stuart, of Scotland, and though the king was only nine years old, and Mary only four, Somerset called upon the King of Scotland to fulfil the promise which had been made, and to send Mary to England.
The party which was at that time most powerful in Scotland was the Roman Catholic party, and the Roman Catholics had no love for Somerset and his Protestant friends, and did not at all want to see the Queen of Scotland married to a Protestant king. They therefore refused point blank to do what Somerset asked. The refusal led to war; an English army again crossed the Border, and defeated the Scots at Pinkie Cleugh (1547), near Edinburgh.
But little came of the victory. Somerset had no sooner gained the battle than he came back in haste to London, fearing lest in his absence his enemies there might do him some mischief. It was an odd way to try to win a bride, by sending an army into her country, and killing some hundreds of her best soldiers; and it is not wonderful that Somerset did not succeed in winning Mary of Scotland for his young master. Indeed, he might almost have foreseen what really took place.
The Scots were determined that their young and beautiful queen should not marry the King of England, and they rightly thought that the best way to protect her from any further claims was to marry her to somebody else. Accordingly, just a year after the battle of Pinkie Cleugh, Mary was betrothed, not to King Edward, but to King Edward's enemy, Francis, Dauphin * of France, who afterwards became King Francis II. of France.
[The eldest son of the King of France was always called the Dauphin, just as the eldest son of the King or Queen of England is always called the Prince of Wales. The word is pronounced DOW-finn and literally means 'dolphin,' which was the heraldic emblem of the French heir-apparent.]
As soon as Somerset, the Lord Protector, got back to London, he set to work to strengthen his own power. As was usual in those days, he thought the best way to begin was by getting rid of those who were likely to become his enemies or his rivals. He brought a charge of treason against his own brother, Thomas Seymour, Admiral of England. Parliament, as usual, was ready to help, and Thomas was condemned by the House of Commons, unheard and without trial, and beheaded.
Still further to strengthen his own power, Somerset now sought to marry the Princess Mary, the elder sister of the king; and when he found this was impossible, he sought the hand of her sister Elizabeth; but in this also he was unsuccessful.
The Fall of Somerset and the Rise of Northumberland. (Ch 40)
"He has gambled for his life, and lost: he hangs." -- Tennyson: "Queen Mary."
It soon became clear that, after all Somerset had done to gain power for himself, and to weaken his enemies, he was still in great danger. Many of the nobles hated him, and were jealous of him. Those who were the friends of the old Church looked upon him as their chief enemy.
In many parts of the country the breaking-up of the monasteries had caused great discontent, for the people who had been accustomed to receive charity from the monks, and who had found in the monasteries their only teachers, were very angry with the Reformers. In some of the counties the people rose in rebellion, as they had done before in Henry VIII.'s time, and Somerset found much difficulty in putting them down and in restoring quiet.
It was not wonderful that when he found that the friends of the monks were everywhere his enemies, Somerset should have done all he could to help and strengthen the Protestants, who were his friends. In doing this he found a ready helper in the king, who had been brought up as a Protestant, and who was now getting old enough to take some part himself in settling what should be done.
The king's council was made up of warm friends of the Reformation, who lost no time in helping on the cause which they cared so much about. The bishops who would not admit that the king was the true Head of the Church in England were turned out. Two of them -- Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, and Bonner, Bishop of London were put into prison, and Protestant bishops were put in their places.
A new Protestant Prayer-Book, written in English, was drawn up and ordered to be used in all churches, and Protestant schools were started in many places with the help of the money that had been taken from the monasteries. In all these things Somerset, as a member of the council, took a chief part. But the time had at last come when he was to fall from power, as so many others had done before him.
Among the bitterest enemies of Somerset was Dudley, Earl of Warwick. Warwick had led the king's troops against the rebels, and had been very successful in beating them and in restoring peace. He used his power to attack Somerset. First of all, he accused him of having kept for himself the money which had been taken from the monasteries, or which had been paid in fines by the nobles who had risen in rebellion against the king, and had been punished for their disloyalty. This money, said Warwick and his friends, belonged to the king, and to the king's treasury, but Somerset had dishonestly kept it, and spent it on himself.
So many people had lost their money and were lamenting over its loss, that it was easy enough to find plenty who were ready to join in the cry against the Lord Protector. Then Warwick brought another charge. He said that Somerset had agreed to a disgraceful peace with the King of France, and that he had given up the King of England's rights to those parts of France which he still claimed.
At last Warwick felt strong enough to do what he had long wanted to do, namely, to get rid of Somerset altogether, and to take his place as chief councillor of the young king. He persuaded Edward to make him Duke of Northumberland; and having collected a number of friends who, like himself, hated Somerset, he openly charged the Protector with high treason. Somerset was taken prisoner, was tried, and, after a short delay, was executed on Tower Hill on the 22nd January, 1552.
The Duke of Northumberland now became the most powerful man in England, and it seemed that he had at last got all he hoped for, namely, the power to use the name of King Edward for his own purposes. The first use he made of his power was to marry his son, Lord Guilford Dudley, to the Lady Jane Grey. Farther on we shall read the sorrowful story of poor Lady Jane Grey, who for a few short hours was Queen of England.
But to understand the story rightly we must find out who Lady Jane Grey was, and why the Duke of Northumberland was so anxious that she should become the wife of his son. The easiest way to understand who Lady Jane was, is to look at the table which is given on this page. With a little patience we shall be able to trace out her family, and to see exactly what relation she was to the Royal Family of England. We shall see that she was the great-niece of Henry VIII, and the grand-daughter of his sister Mary and the young Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, about whom we read in Chapter 36.
Henry VII. married Elizabeth of York. These are their children:
Arthur, Prince of Wales (died at age 15)
Margaret Tudor (married King James IV of Scotland)
Henry VIII, King of England
Mary Tudor (married King Louis XII of France, then Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk)
Margaret and James IV. of Scotland's children
James V.
Mary, Queen of Scots.
Henry VIII.'s children:
Mary.
Elizabeth.
Edward VI.
Mary Tudor and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk's child:
Frances Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk.
Lady Jane Grey was the daughter of Frances Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk. Thus she was Henry VII's great grand-daughter and Henry VIII's great-niece,
The reason why Northumberland wanted his son to marry Jane was a very plain one. Parliament had declared that neither Mary nor Elizabeth, the two daughters of Henry VIII., had any right to come to the throne; and if they did not there would only be one other person when King Edward died who would have a better right than Lady Jane Grey to come to the throne as Queen of England. This one person was Mary, Queen of Scots; but nobody believed that Mary, Queen of Scots, would be allowed to become Queen of England. Northumberland, therefore, hoped to see his son become the husband of one who would be queen as soon as King Edward was dead.
And it was already plain to all that in a very few months King Edward would be dead. The poor boy had always been weak and ailing. Scarcely able to walk, he liked to be carried to the window to see what was passing in the world outside. In the Council Chamber he sat on the throne supported by cushions, an unhappy sufferer, weak and in pain. In the year 1553 he was taken ill with measles, and later in the same year he had small-pox also. He caught cold, and before long the cold went to his lungs, and he got consumption.
Northumberland saw that the king was dying, and he saw too that if he were to make any use of the king's name before he died, he must do so at once. He persuaded the dying king to make a will in which he declared that the Lady Jane was the true heir to the throne. This was Edward's last act. On the 6th July, 1553, the poor king died, in the seventh year of his reign.
The reign of Edward VI. was a short one, but the king himself, unlike his father, was not the chief person in the history of his time. But the reign was a very important one in English history -- so important, indeed, that before going on to the next reign it is necessary to say a little more about the great change which had taken place in England while Edward was on the throne. It is impossible to understand the story of the next reign unless we also understand quite clearly what had gone before it.
Chapter 41. What the Reformation Meant
The "Old Religion" and the "New."
"The Bishop of Rome [the Pope] hath no jurisdiction in this realm of England." -- From one of the "Articles" or Rules of the Church of England agreed to in Queen Elizabeth's time.
It is not possible to tell the story of these times without speaking very often about The Reformation, the New Religion, and the Protestants. It will be a good thing, therefore, to explain in a short way, before we go on any further, what is meant by these words, and what the Reformation and the New Religion were.
We have already read something about the Reformation which was begun by Martin Luther in Germany, and which, in Edward VI.'s time, had spread to England. The New Religion was the religion of those who had followed the teachings of Luther and of his friends, and both in England and in Germany the followers of the New Religion were called Protestants or Reformers.
But when we read of the New Religion we must not suppose that the religion of the Protestants was really a new one. It was the Christian religion in which the people of England had believed since the time when St. Augustine first began to preach at Canterbury, 900 years before the reign of Henry VIII. It was the Christian religion which had been taught ever since the time of Christ, 1,500 years before.
The difference between the Reformers, on the one side, and the friends of the Pope, on the other, was not as to whether the Christian religion should or should not be the religion of England, but as to whether the way in which the Christian religion was then taught and practised by the Pope, the priests, and those who agreed with the Pope, were the right and true way or not.
There is not room in this book to set down all the matters about which the two parties could not agree, nor, indeed, is it necessary to do so, for some of the things about which people differed greatly at that time are not very important now. But no one can understand the history of England during the time of Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, who does not know what were the most important things about which Protestants and Roman Catholics disagreed.
At that time the Pope of Rome claimed to have the right to interfere in the affairs of all the countries of Europe. He said that he was Head of the Church in France, in Germany, and in England, and that he alone had the right to say how the Church should be governed in each of those countries. He did not say that he had the right to make or alter the laws of England, but he did say that those who belonged in any way to the Church were not under the laws of England, but under the laws of the Church, and that the king's judges and the king's courts had no power and no right to judge them if they were accused of doing wrong.
The Pope also declared that many offences could only be punished by the Church, and that the person who committed these offences must be tried by the bishops, and not by the king's judges. He also said that no bishop could be appointed in England without his leave.
Sometimes it had happened in the past that there had been a quarrel between the Pope and the King of England, and then the Pope, in order to punish the king, had forbidden the clergy in England to hold services in the churches, and had commanded them not to bury or to baptise people.
Thus, though the Pope lived far away in the city of Rome, in Italy, he really had the power to interfere with the people of England, and to do them harm when he wished. The kings of England had always very much disliked any interference by the Pope, and the people of England had generally been on the side of the King of England when the king tried to get rid of the right of the Pope to meddle in the affairs of their country.
The Reformers now said that the Pope ought no longer to be the Head of the Church in England, and that he ought to have no power to interfere with Englishmen, or to punish them for what they did, or what they said, or what they thought.
The Reformers, therefore, believed that the Pope had no authority in England. The Roman Catholics believed that the Pope had, and ought to have, authority in this country in many matters. This, then, was one great difference between the two parties.
Freedom of Opinion and Liberty of Conscience. (Ch 41)
"It is a thing plainly repugnant to the Word of God, and the custom of the Primitive Church, * to have publick Prayer in the Church, or to minister the Sacraments, in a tongue not understanded of the people." One of the "Articles" or Rules of the Church of England agreed to in Queen Elizabeth's time.
[* Primitive Church: The early church in the first centuries after the death of Christ.]
But there was a much more important difference than this. For many years the Popes had claimed the right not only to judge men for what they did, but for what they thought. They said that there was only one true form of the Christian religion, and that was the form which was taught by the Pope, the bishops, and the priests. No man, they said, had a right to choose the form of his religion for himself, and a man committed a sin if he did not believe exactly what the Church taught him.
The Protestants, on the other hand, said that neither the Pope nor the bishops had any right to say what a man or a woman should believe. They said that every man ought to think for himself, and to try and find out for himself what was right and true. They said that the true religion was to be found in the Bible, and that the teaching of the priests was not the teaching of the Bible.
The Roman Catholics declared that the Pope and the bishops were the only persons who had a right to say what was the true meaning of the Bible, or to decide what was right and wrong. The Protestants, on the other hand, said that a man must read the Bible for himself, and must understand it by the help of his own conscience. And thus we see there was another great difference between the Protestants and the Roman Catholics, for while the Roman Catholics said that the Pope and the Church were the only true judges of what was right and wrong, the Protestants held that each man had a right to judge for himself, with the help of the Bible and of his own conscience.
The Roman Catholics had always been forbidden by the Pope to translate the Bible into English, or to read it for themselves. Both the Bible and the prayers which were read in the churches were in Latin, and few people except the priests could understand them. The Protestants declared that the words of the Bible were meant for everybody to read and understand, and that, therefore, the Bible ought to be translated into a language which would be understood by the people. One of the first things the Protestants did when they got the power was to translate into English both the Bible and the prayers which were used in the churches, so that everybody might read and understand them.
It must not, however, be supposed that the Protestants believed they needed no help to guide them, and that they were able by themselves to know what was right, or to do what was right. All true Protestants believed that it was only by prayer to God that they could be guided aright, and be enabled to do what was right. The difference between them and the Roman Catholics in this matter was that the Protestants believed that the guidance and help of God would be given to every man, woman, and child who truly sought for it, and that it was not necessary to go to a priest, to a bishop, or to the Pope in order to learn what was God's will.
It was the Protestants who first claimed and won for us two great liberties which all Englishmen now enjoy, namely, Freedom of Opinion, that is the right to think what we please; and Liberty of Conscience, that is the right to believe what we think right. We shall see that the Protestants in their turn often refused to others the liberties they had gained for themselves. Nevertheless, no one can doubt that, despite their mistakes, we owe much to those Protestants who fought and suffered for freedom of thought in Queen Mary's time.
Chapter 42. Mary. 1553-1558.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Queen Mary: |
Queen Jane. (Ch 42)
"Seventeen -- a rose of grace!
Girl never breathed to rival such a rose:
Rose never blew that equal I'd such a bud,"
-- Tennyson: "Queen Mary."
No sooner was King Edward dead than there arose confusion and conflict throughout the country. There were two great parties in the land, each longing for power. On the one side were the Protestants, the friends of the New Religion, under the leadership of the Duke of Northumberland. On the other side were the friends of the Old Religion, whose hopes were fixed upon Princess Mary, the daughter of Henry VIII. and Catharine of Aragon.
Northumberland wished to be first in the field, and to force people to take his side before the friends of Mary had had time to collect. He called the Council together, and proclaimed that the true and rightful heir to the throne was his daughter-in-law, the Lady Jane Grey. At the same time orders were given that Mary should be taken prisoner. But Mary was too quick for the duke. A friend brought her word of what was going on in the Council. Without a moment's delay, she rode off to her friends in Norfolk, and thence to Framlingham, a strongly fortified house in Suffolk, where she knew she was safe from surprise.
If we look at the table on page 331, we shall see in a minute who Lady Jane Grey was and what claim she had to the crown of England. She was the great-granddaughter of Henry VII. and the daughter of the Duke of Suffolk. By right of descent, Mary had a better claim to the throne than Lady Jane Grey, and so also had Elizabeth, but both Mary and Elizabeth had been declared by Parliament to be deprived of their rights. Mary, too, was a friend of the Old Religion, and Northumberland hoped that the people would support him and Lady Jane Grey, who was a Protestant, against Mary. We shall see that he was mistaken. If we look again at the table on p. 331, we shall see that there was another person who had a better claim to the crown than Lady Jane Grey, and that was Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots But it was not till after the death of Queen Mary of England that Mary, Queen of Scots put forward her claim to the throne.
Meanwhile the Duke of Northumberland had proclaimed Lady Jane Grey to be Queen of England at St. Paul's Cross, in London. When the name of Queen Jane was read out by the herald, it was received in silence; nobody cheered or cried "God save the Queen." An ostler boy in the crowd alone raised a cry against the new queen. He was seized by the guards, and his ears were nailed to the pillory. No one interfered on his behalf, but it was plain that Queen Jane had few friends.
The truth was that the people of London, and the greater part of the people of England also, had no love at all for Northumberland, nor did they care very much about the New Religion which he supported. As long as King Edward had been on the throne and had chosen to support the Protestants, the people kept pretty quiet; it was only those who had been injured by the breaking-up of the monasteries who rose in rebellion. But now that they were asked to fight for the New Religion, with Northumberland as their leader, and against Mary, whom they looked upon as the true heir to the crown, the people of England soon made up their minds what they would do.
For it is quite plain that though in the time of Henry VIII., Parliament had declared that neither Mary nor Elizabeth had any right to come to the throne, most people in England paid no attention at all to what Parliament had decided about the matter, and everybody except a few friends and supporters of the Duke of Northumberland looked upon Mary as the only right and proper person to be queen.
It was true that Mary belonged to the Old Religion, and that by this time the new Protestant religion had spread very widely through the country; but the time had not yet come when Englishmen were ready, from one end of England to the other, to fight and die for the Protestant religion. We shall see later on that such a time did come, and we shall see, too, that no one did more to make the English people Protestants, and fierce enemies of the Pope and his friends, than Queen Mary herself, whom nearly all England was now ready to welcome as queen.
But before we go on to the reign of Queen Mary, we must give a little space to the short sad reign of a queen whose name is not to be found in the list of the Kings and Queens of England.
The Death of Lady Jane Grey (Ch 42)
"Live still to die, that by death you may purchase eternal life."
-- Lady Jane Grey.
Little is left to mark the sad history of poor Queen Jane. But Jane herself was such a sweet and good woman that we must not altogether forget her or the part which she played in the history of our country. She was but seventeen years old in the year which led her to the crown and to her death.
In these few years she had learnt much. She was a wonder of learning, even at a time when young ladies of high rank were often great scholars. She knew and could read Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, and could write both of the two last-named languages. But this was not all nor the best that could be said of Lady Jane Grey. She had learnt to be a true Christian. Everything that is told of her makes us love her as a pure-hearted, brave, and good Englishwoman.
But neither Jane's goodness nor her learning was enough to protect her. She was indeed only an instrument in the hands of other persons, who hoped to use her for their own ends, and what she suffered she suffered for their crimes and not for her own. Northumberland soon saw that if he were going to keep Mary from the throne he must do something at once, for every day it became clearer that the people were in favour of Mary and against him.
He set off with a small army to attack Mary in Suffolk. He hoped that many friends would come and join him, but none came. On the contrary, from all sides the lords and gentlemen of the eastern counties came forward to fight for the true queen.
The duke soon saw that his cause was lost. He gave himself up, and acknowledged Mary as the rightful queen. His cowardice, however, did not save him. He was sent to the Tower, and was there beheaded on August 22nd, 1553. He died hated by both parties, for in the hope of saving his life he declared that he was no longer a Protestant, but a believer in the old religion. Thus, after ruining his Protestant friends, he deserted them as soon as he felt his own life in danger. It is not wonderful that while his enemies despised him, those who had been his friends hated him.
Lady Jane Grey and her husband, Lord Guilford Dudley, were both imprisoned in the Tower. At first it seemed as if their lives would be spared; and perhaps they might have been allowed to live if it had not been that a rising among the Protestants took place in the county of Kent, under Sir Thomas Wyatt, and that those who took part in it declared that they were fighting for Queen Jane. Alarmed at this new danger, Mary and her councillors decided that Jane should be put to death.
A priest was sent by the order of Queen Mary to try to win Lady Jane to the Roman Catholic religion. Lady Jane treated the priest, who was an old man, with courtesy and kindness, but she said that she did not wish to hear him, that her mind was made up, and that she wished to die as she had lived, in the Protestant faith. She was sure of her own courage, but she was not so sure about that of others who were dear to her. She wrote and begged her husband not to follow the bad example which had been set him by the Duke of Northumberland and not to forsake his religion under the fear of death.
Her sweetness won the heart even of her gaolers. To Sir John Brydges, the Governor of the Tower, she gave a small book of English prayers. The book can still be seen. Sir John asked his prisoner to write a few words in it. These are the words which Queen Jane wrote:
"Forasmuch as you have desired so simple a woman to write in so worthy a book, good master lieutenant, therefore I shall as a friend desire you, and as a Christian require you, to call upon God and incline your heart to His laws, to quicken you in His way, and not to take the truth utterly out of your mouth. Live still to die, that by death you may purchase eternal life."
Her husband, Guilford Dudley, was to be executed before her. She was asked if she would like to see him. She said, No: if it would profit either of them, she would see him; otherwise she would wait for her death alone.
When she came to the foot of the scaffold, she sprang up the steps, and said that she had broken the law in accepting the crown; but as to any guilt of intention she wrung her hands, and said she washed them clean of it in innocency before God and man. She "died a true Christian woman."
This is how the rest of the story is told in the Chronicle of Queen Mary:
"The hangman kneeled down and asked her forgiveness, which she forgave most willingly. Then he willed her to stand upon the straw, which doing, she saw the block. Then she said, 'I pray you despatch me quickly.' Then she kneeled down, saying, 'Will you take it off before I lay me down?' and the hangman answered, 'No, madam.' She tied a kercher about her eyes; then feeling for the block, she said, 'What shall I do? where is it?' One of the by-standers guiding her thereunto, she laid down her head upon the block, and stretched forth her body, and said, 'Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.' And so ended."
"In Time of Persecution." (Ch 42)
"The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church."
The rising which had taken place, and which led to the death of Lady Jane Grey, was put down after some difficulty. The rebels, under Sir Thomas Wyatt, got as far as London, and actually reached the walls of the city. Wyatt hoped that the Londoners would rise to help him, but in this he was disappointed. The Londoners were true to the queen, and Wyatt was taken prisoner and executed (1554).
But though Wyatt had not succeeded, the causes which had led him and his friends to take up arms were very serious, and were soon felt to be serious not only in the county of Kent but throughout the whole of England. We have seen that the people of England were not at this time ready to fight for or against the old religion or the new. Indeed, they were for the most part content to let their kings and queens settle what should be the religion of the country very much as they pleased. The only thing which they wanted was not to be too much interfered with themselves.
But although the greater part of the people of England were at this time content to accept what the king or queen might choose, there were on both sides men who were not at all of this way of thinking, and who were determined, whatever it might cost, to win a victory for their own party. On both sides there were men and women who believed that the religion to which they belonged was the only true one, and that those who did not agree with them were not only in the wrong, but were wicked people who ought to be put down for the good of the country and for the sake of true religion.
On the one side, the Reformers never ceased to teach and to preach the reformed doctrines, and to attack the Pope and the Pope's party. On the other side, the friends of the Pope and of the old religion were as earnest in teaching and preaching what they believed to be right, and in declaring that nothing could be worse or more wicked than to listen to or believe in the new doctrines.
On both sides there were men and women who were ready to give up their own lives readily for the sake of what they believed to be right; and, alas! there were also men and women on both sides equally ready to take the lives of others who did not agree with them, in the vain hope that by persecution they could make men change their views and give up what they believed to be right.
Happily, we understand much more clearly nowadays than men did in the reign of Queen Mary, that the very worst way to make people give up their opinions about what they believe to be right, and their duty, is to persecute them and to make them suffer. We have learnt that persecution is much more likely to make people -- especially English people -- cling to what they think than to make them give up their opinions.
We have learnt, too, that the very sight of men and women suffering for saying and thinking what they honestly believe to be right, often makes people sorry for those who suffer and angry with those who cause the suffering. In this way it often happens that persecution, instead of stopping men from teaching and thinking as they please, brings them friends whom they would never have had if they had been left alone, and makes men sorry for them who would have taken no notice of them if they had not been persecuted.
The Spanish Marriage. (Ch 42)
"If this man marry our queen, he will be king, King of England, my masters; and the queen, and the laws, and the people, his slaves, What? shall we have Spain on the throne and in the Parliament; Spain in the pulpit and on the law-bench; Spain in all the great offices of State; Spain in our ships, in our forts, in our houses?" -- Tennyson: "Queen Mary."
The causes which had led to the rebellion of the Kentish men under Sir Thomas Wyatt were twofold, and it is necessary to understand what they were, because they were the same causes which led to many other troubles during Queen Mary's reign.
It must be remembered that Mary was the first queen who had ever reigned of her own right over England, and when she became the sovereign of the country, a difficulty arose which had never arisen before. It had been easy to find a wife for the King of England, for though the king's wife was always called The Queen, she had no power in the government of the country. It did not matter whether she were a foreigner like Catharine of Aragon, or an Englishwoman like Jane Seymour.
But now a very different question arose. The sovereign of the country was a woman, and it was necessary to find a husband for her. Who was the queen's husband to be, and what power was he to have over the government of the country? Was he to be called The King? And if so, was he to rule England as King Henry or King Edward had ruled it? Was he to be a foreigner or an Englishman?
Whichever he might be, it seemed as if there would be danger, for if he were a foreigner there was no knowing what power he might not get over the queen, power which he would very likely use for the good of a foreign country, and not for the good of England. On the other hand, if he were an Englishman, he must be chosen from among the queen's subjects, and then it was certain that there would be jealousy and strife among all the great nobles in the country when they saw one of their number picked out and made a king over them.
While the people of England were puzzling over this difficult question, Queen Mary herself settled it without asking anybody's advice, and settled it in what was perhaps the worst way in which it could have been settled; the worst for herself and the worst for her country. It is not strange that the queen should feel that the choosing of a husband was her own affair, for no woman in the world likes to have her husband chosen for her.
But it is one of the disadvantages of being a king or a queen that in matters like this a great many other people are concerned besides the bride and bridegroom. The person whom Mary chose for her husband was Philip of Spain, son of the Emperor Charles V. It was not wonderful that she should wish to marry Philip.
It must not be forgotten that her own mother, Catharine, had been a Spaniard, and that Mary had received far more kindness from her Spanish relations than from her English relations. Philip would shortly become King of Spain, and, moreover, the King of Spain was one of the greatest Roman Catholic sovereigns in Europe, a friend of the Pope, and of the old religion in which Mary believed so firmly, and in which she had been brought up.
But the very things which made Mary welcome Philip as a husband made the English people detest him. In the first place he was a foreigner, and the English did not like foreigners, or wish them to have any power in England. In the second place, Philip was a Spaniard, and the Spaniards were particularly disliked in England.
Already the English merchants and adventurers had begun to come to blows with the Spaniards in America and in other parts of the world, and already they were beginning to dispute with them the possession of some of the rich territory of the newly-discovered countries. And more than this, the Spaniards had already begun that persecution of the Protestants which afterwards made them so justly hated by Reformers in all parts of Europe. English people feared that the new king would not be long in setting up in this country the cruel court which was known in Spain as The Holy Inquisition.
This Court of the Inquisition was made up of bishops and priests acting under the direction of the Pope, and its business was to try people for their opinions, and to see whether they believed what the Pope declared to be the only true opinions. Those who were found guilty by the Inquisition were often punished in the most cruel way, and were frequently tortured to make them confess what their judges wanted them to confess.
We shall see that Englishmen were right in fearing that Philip would try and bring into England the plan which he had adopted in Spain. It was not wonderful that, having this fear in their minds, they should have disliked the queen's choice of a husband. But the marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain was not the only thing which had stirred up those who joined in Wyatt's rebellion, and which had made many other Englishmen who had not joined in the rebellion angry and discontented.
The Oxford Martyrs. (Ch 42)
"Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out." -- Bishop Latimer at the Stake.
When Mary first came to the throne it was clear to everyone that she intended to bring back the Old Religion in which she had been brought up, and to which she was so much attached. It seemed a natural thing that just as Edward VI., or rather those who advised Edward VI., had dismissed the bishops who refused to admit that the king was the true head of the Church, and had replaced them by men like Cranmer, so Mary should now turn out Cranmer and Latimer, and put back Gardiner and Bonner in their places.
If no more than this had been done, perhaps the Protestants would have remained quiet. But it soon became plain that Mary meant to go much further, and not only to set up the Old Religion again, but to make everybody admit that the Old Religion was the only true religion.
On the 25th July, 1554, Mary was married to Philip at Winchester. It was decided that Philip was to be called king, but that he was to have no right to interfere with the making of laws, or with the government of the country. The English people were wisely determined that if they were to have a foreign king, he should have no power to meddle with their concerns.
It soon became clear, however, that it was easier to say that the king should have no power than to prevent him from using the power which he got through being the queen's husband. Mary was very fond of Philip, much fonder than Philip was of her, and it soon became evident that what the king wished, the queen was only too ready to command. It was plain, moreover, that the king and queen were of the same mind about one thing -- and that was putting down the Protestants.
Parliament, which, as usual at this time, did pretty much what the king or queen happened to order, declared that the Pope was the only true head of the Church, that all that had been said and done to the contrary by Henry VIII. and Edward VI. was wrong and of no account, and that every man who refused to obey the new law might be put to death. The Protestant bishops and clergymen were turned out of their places, and Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury; Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester; Latimer, Bishop of Worcester; and Ridley, Bishop of London, were thrown into prison.
Urged on by Philip, Mary gave orders that the cruel persecution which had begun in Spain should be continued in England. In many parts of England men and women who were known to be Protestants were brought before the Roman Catholic bishops for trial, and were asked by them if they would consent to give up their belief and go back to the Old Religion. Hundreds of brave men and women were found who declared that neither the fear of imprisonment nor of death would make them give up their religion, or say that they believed what in their hearts they thought to be false.
For such as these there was no mercy. No less than 280 persons were burned to death in various parts of England for refusing to give up their religion.
Among those who thus died were the three bishops Latimer, Ridley, and Hooper. Hooper was burned at Gloucester, Latimer and Ridley at Oxford. These brave and good men met their death with a courage which did more for the cause of the Protestants than many sermons or many learned books could ever do. They met their judges and reasoned with them without fear, and sought neither mercy nor pardon.
Ridley was the first tried and condemned to death. Then Latimer, an old man of eighty, was brought before the judges. His appearance as he stood there before the men who he knew had made up their minds to condemn him to a cruel death is thus described:
"Latimer was then brought in -- eighty years old now -- dressed in an old threadbare gown of Bristol frieze, a handkerchief on his head with a nightcap over it, and over that again another cap, with two broad flaps buttoned under the chin. A leather belt was round his waist, to which a Testament was attached; his spectacles, without a case, hung from his neck."
It is well to try and picture to ourselves the brave old bishop, as he stood awaiting his sentence. Many other brave and good men died in the times about which we are reading, because they would not say what they believed to be untrue, and because they would not give up the religion which they loved. Among them were both Protestants and Roman Catholics. On whichever side they were, we cannot read of their sufferings without admiring them for their courage and their love of what they thought to be the truth. But among all who suffered, none better deserves to be remembered than this old man of eighty, in his threadbare gown of Bristol frieze, standing up boldly before his judges after two long, weary years in prison.
Indeed, the names of Latimer and Ridley have always lived in the memory of Englishmen; and if we who read about them now admire them, and feel sorry for them, what must those Englishmen have thought who saw them die at the stake in Oxford?
It was on the 16th October, 1555, that the two bishops were burned. As the torch was put to the faggots, Latimer spoke, and the words which he spoke will always be remembered. "Be of good comfort, Master Ridley," said the brave old bishop, "and play the man; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out."
Latimer's last words proved to be true. The persecution of those who died for their faith helped the people of England to understand how great a cause these men were fighting for. The right of men and women to think as they please, to worship God in what way they think right, and to believe what their own conscience tells them to be true, is now no longer disputed in our country. We owe much of the liberty which we enjoy to the men who first "lighted the candle" of which Latimer spoke, and who taught Englishmen that it was better for a man to die than to give up the right to do what his conscience told him was his duty.
In St. Giles', at Oxford, stands a tall monument. It is called the Martyrs' Memorial, and commemorates the burning of Latimer and Ridley, which took place close by, in Broad Street.
The Death of Cranmer. (Ch 42)
"The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." -- Matt. xxvi. 41.
It was not till the next year (1556) that Archbishop Cranmer was put to death. The friends of the queen tried hard to get him to confess that he had been in the wrong, and that the Old Religion was, after all, the only true one. They hoped that he would do as Northumberland had done, and give up his opinions in the hope of saving his life. They felt sure that if the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had done so much to set up the Protestant Church, were to confess that he were in the wrong, and to beg for the queen's mercy, all those who had taken the side of the Reformers would feel that a great blow had been struck at their cause.
At first it seemed as if the queen's friends were going to get what they wanted. Wearied out by imprisonment, and with the fear of death before him, Cranmer consented to sign a paper in which he admitted that he had been in the wrong, and that the New Religion was a false one. But this did not save his life. Mary decided that he should be put to death, after all. Then when he saw that it was too late to hope for life, the archbishop's courage came back to him, and with it there came a feeling of shame that he had ever denied the truths which he had for so long taught to others.
When he was called upon to declare before all the people that he had given up the Protestant religion, and that he now believed all that was in the paper which he had signed, he said openly that he had not changed his opinion, that when he had signed the paper he had done so in fear of death and in the hope of saving his life; no other thing that he had ever done in his life troubled him so much as having written things which were contrary to the truth; the hand which had signed the paper had most offended, and therefore it should be the first to suffer in the flames. "The Pope," he said, "I utterly refuse, with all his false doctrine." On the 2ist March he was put to death. True to his word, he thrust his right hand, the hand which had signed the paper, first into the flames, where it was consumed.
All over the country many other Protestants, not so well known as Cranmer, Latimer and Ridley, but not less brave, were put to death because they would not admit that the Pope was head of the Church in England, and had the right to settle their religion for them.
That Mary really thought she was doing what was right, in persecuting and putting to death those who did not agree with her, is quite certain. She truly believed that she was doing what was her duty as a queen and as a Christian woman; and however terrible and hateful we may think her actions to have been, we must not forget that they seemed very different to her than they do to us nowadays. But though Mary thought that it was right to persecute and burn the enemies of the Pope, the people of England, or at any rate the greater part of them, soon made up their minds that what she did was wrong and hateful.
Many of those who were of the same religion as the queen had no love either for the Pope, or for Philip the queen's Spanish husband, and they would much rather have seen their neighbours allowed to follow their own religion, as long as they did not interfere with others. Many who before had cared little about the New Religion, and had had little love for those who preached it, or for those who believed in it, began to take sides with the men whom they saw persecuted and ill-treated.
The Protestants themselves, from one end of England to the other, instead of being frightened by the persecution which the queen hoped would make them change their religion, became angry instead, and determined never to rest until they had got rid of a queen who had a Spanish husband, and who believed that the Pope had the right to interfere with the lives of the people of England.
The Loss of Calais. (Ch 42)
"Alas!
That gateway to the mainland over which
Our flag hath floated for two hundred years
Is France again." -- Tennyson: "Queen Mary"
Before long Mary, who had begun her reign with the good wishes of by far the greater part of her subjects, came to be more and more disliked every year. Nor did the queen's troubles end with the hatred which followed the persecution of the Protestants. She had other matters which interfered with her happiness and peace of mind even more than the ill-will of her subjects. Her husband Philip had never loved her. He was eleven years younger than the queen, and he had been brought up to a very different sort of life from that which he was compelled to lead in England.
In Spain, Philip, as the son of the Emperor Charles, and as the future King of Spain, was a very great person, and everybody was anxious to please him. In England, on the other hand both nobles and common people hated him because he was a foreigner and because he was a Spaniard; the Protestants also hated him because he was their bitter enemy, and one of the strongest supporters of the Pope. Mary was very fond of her husband, but he did not return her affection; he cared little for her serious way of living, and he sought every opportunity of going away from her.
He soon had a good reason for leaving her. In the third year of Queen Mary's reign (1556), Charles V., Philip's father, tired of ruling a great kingdom, gave up his crown, and went to live for the rest of his days in a monastery. Philip now became King of Spain, and he was glad to return once more to his own country, leaving Mary sorrowing over his absence. Only once did he come back to England, and then but for a short time.
But though he had left the country he was still able to do it harm. Spain was at war with France, and Philip called upon the Queen of England to help him in his quarrel. Mary joined in the war to please her husband, and against the wish of most of her subjects.
But it seemed as if nothing could prosper in this unhappy reign. The English troops took but little part in the war; they helped Philip in a battle fought at St. Quentin, in which the Spanish and English troops won a victory. But a very short time afterwards the fortune of the war turned, and England suffered a loss which seemed to those who were living at that time to be one of the most shameful that could befall the country.
The Duke of Guise, the French general, marched with a strong army against Calais, the last of the English possessions in France. After a short siege of a week the town surrendered (1558). Two hundred and eleven years before, Edward III. had taken it after a siege of eleven months. When all else was lost to England of the great possessions which she had once held in France, Calais remained; and now that it had been lost, all England felt that a great disgrace had overtaken the country. No one felt this more than the unhappy queen herself. It is said that when the news of the fall of Calais reached her she was overcome with grief. "When I die," she said, "you will find the word 'Calais' written upon my heart."
It was not wonderful that Englishmen at the time should mourn over the loss of the town which they had kept for so long, but there can be no doubt that it was really a very good thing, not only for France but for England, that the Duke of Guise succeeded in winning back the place.
There would never have been any lasting peace between England and France as long as Englishmen kept a part of the land of France. The French would always have been wanting to fight us whenever they got a chance, in order to get back their own land. Nor could we have blamed them if they had, for it is to be hoped that no Englishman would ever rest quiet if Frenchmen were to take, and try to keep, any piece of British land, however small or however distant.
But, as has been said, the people of England were very angry and very sad at the time, and they laid the blame for the loss, of Calais upon Mary's Spanish husband, who had dragged England into a war in which she had no concern.
Deserted by her husband, disliked by her people, unsuccessful in war, Mary now felt that all her plans had failed. The Pope, whom she had all her life done her best to serve, had taken the side of France against Spain, and therefore was her enemy. Philip, for whom she had offended her people, and for whose sake she had undertaken the unlucky war with France, had left her; and, worst of all, she now knew that she was dying, and that she would leave no child to come after her on the throne.
This would have been bad enough in itself, but it was made far worse when she remembered that the next heir to the throne was the daughter of Anne Boleyn, her sister Elizabeth, whom she hated, and who was the favourite of the Protestants whom she had so long fought against and persecuted.
On the 17th November, 1558, in the sixth year of her reign, Queen Mary died after a painful illness. She was forty-two years old when she died. Her reign, which began so hopefully for herself and her friends, ended in gloom and disappointment for all those who had taken her part or who wished her well. Few women have tried harder to do what they thought right than Queen Mary, and it would be unfair to forget this when we read the story of her reign, and of the cruel things that were done by her orders.
But the reign of Queen Mary has always been held to have been one of the most hateful and miserable in our history, and justly so. There were few in all England who felt any sorrow when the news came that the queen was dead. The people of England who had seen the cruel things that had been done among them, the burnings and the persecutions which had made the land wretched, spoke of her by the name by which she will always be remembered in English history.
Chapter 43. Elizabeth -- The Protestant Queen. 1558-1603.
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Principal events during the during the reign of Queen Elizabeth: |
"Good Queen Bess." (Ch 43)
GARTER KING-AT-ARMS. -- "Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the High and Mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth!" -- Shakespeare: "Henry VIII"
"Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the Queen!"
-- Henry Carey: "God save the Queen."
We now come to the story of the reign of one of the most famous of all the sovereigns of England. The name of Queen Elizabeth, or of "Good Queen Bess," as her people called her, is justly held in honour by Englishmen. It is true that Elizabeth did many things which appear to us cruel and harsh, and that she can be fairly charged with being mean in some things, and deceitful in others. More than once she used her power and her high position to injure those of whom she was jealous or whom she feared. But when all that can be said against Queen Elizabeth has been said, we must still admit that she was a wonderful woman and a great queen.
Whatever mistakes she made, there was one mistake which Elizabeth was never guilty of. She never forgot that she was Queen of England, and that it was her duty to make England great, prosperous, and respected.
Edward VI. had tried to reign as king of the Protestants of England, Mary as queen of the Roman Catholics of England. But from the very beginning of her reign, Elizabeth tried to reign, not as queen of this party or of that, but as queen of all the people of England. As long as people served her faithfully, obeyed the laws which she approved, and were true to the country, she was true to them. Her faults were best known to those who lived near her, and who had much to do with her; but it was her virtues and not her faults which English men and English women who did not live at the Court saw and understood.
The accession of the new queen was the signal for rejoicing throughout the land. Men of all parties were tired of the cruelties and the misfortunes of Mary's reign, and there was but one cry heard as Elizabeth rode into London -- it was the cry of "God save the Queen."
Parliament, in the time of Henry VIII., had passed an Act declaring that Elizabeth had no right to come to the throne. But by a later Act the King had been given power to declare in his will who should succeed him, and he had actually made a will naming Elizabeth as Queen in due course. Now nearly everyone was glad to see Elizabeth on the throne, safe and well, for during Mary's reign her life had often been in danger.
Mary was, above all things, a friend of the Pope: Elizabeth had been brought up in the Reformed Religion, and was the hope of all those who belonged to it. During her sister's reign, Elizabeth had really been kept prisoner, first in one place and then in another. The Pope's party had over and over again tried to find her out in some plot against Queen Mary, or to prove that she was trying to upset the Old Religion. But Elizabeth had been wise and wary. She had taken care not to give offence, or to do anything which might give her enemies power over her, and thus she had managed to escape safely through all the dangers which had threatened her.
It was, perhaps, a good thing for Elizabeth that she had been a prisoner while she was young, and that she had learnt what was meant by the religious persecutions which had gone on all around her. When she came to be queen, she showed a caution and a wisdom which were not to be expected in so young a woman.
As soon as the news of Queen Mary's death was known, Elizabeth was brought up from Hatfield, where she was staying, and was at once recognised as queen by all parties. She was twenty-five years old when she came to the throne, and seldom was any woman, whether queen or not, better provided with learning and accomplishments,. She had studied deeply history, philosophy, and poetry. She wrote, and wrote well, English, French, Italian, Latin, and Greek. She was a beautiful dancer, and could play and read music.
Whether at any time of her life she were really beautiful, it is hard to say. If we were to believe all that her flatterers said and wrote about her, we must believe that she was the most beautiful creature that ever lived upon earth. If, on the other hand, we are to take as true all the unkind things that were said of her by her enemies, we shall think of her as a plain, awkward, dried-up little shrew, who had no beauty in anybody's eyes except her own.
The pictures of Queen Elizabeth do not tell us very much, for, in the first place, they are not all alike, and, in the second place, pictures can flatter as well as courtiers; though, to tell the truth, if we are to judge by the pictures only, we shall not think that Elizabeth was a very beautiful woman. It seems most likely that the real Elizabeth was something between what her friends on the one side, and her enemies on the other, declared her to be.
When she was young she was probably bright, graceful, and dignified, and most people were ready to think that a graceful young queen, dressed in the richest clothes that wealth could buy, was beautiful. As years went by and the queen became an old woman, not only did she lose her good looks, but there seems no doubt that she made the mistake of trying by her dress and by her manner to look young and beautiful, long after the time of youth and beauty had gone.
The Queen's Ministers -- The Claim of the Queen of Scots. (Ch 43)
"The wisest Princes need not thinke it any diminution of their Gretnesse, or derogation to their Sufficiency to rely upon counsel." -- Bacon's Essays.
We now come to an account of what took place in the first years of Elizabeth's reign. Mary had been the queen of the Old Religion, Elizabeth was to be the queen of the New Religion; and she was wise enough to see that she could only be safe if she openly declared herself on the side of the Reformers, who were now the stronger party in the kingdom, and who were ready to serve her with devotion.
One of the first things that Elizabeth did was to choose her ministers, and she showed her wisdom by her choice. Her chief minister was William Cecil. Cecil had been a friend of the Duke of Northumberland in the time of Edward VI. Under Mary he had declared himself to be a friend of the old religion. Now that Elizabeth was on the throne he came forward as a Protestant; but though he had made many changes before he became Elizabeth's minister, he made none after that time.
For forty years Cecil served the queen faithfully. He helped her with his wise counsel in all her difficulties. Elizabeth, on her side, knew that she could trust Cecil more than any other adviser, and she was true to him to the end of his life. She made him Lord Burleigh, and she gave him great wealth and power, which he always used wisely. Few sovereigns have had a better minister than Elizabeth, and few ministers have ever been better trusted or better rewarded than William Cecil, Lord Burleigh.
From the time of Queen Elizabeth, the family of Cecil has often taken a part in directing the affairs of this country. In our own lifetime Robert Cecil, Marquess of Salisbury, has, like William Cecil, Lord Burleigh, been the trusted minister of the Sovereign of England. Among the other ministers whom the queen chose were Walsingham, Nicholas Bacon, and Lord Robert Dudley, the brother of Guildford Dudley, the unfortunate husband of Lady Jane Grey.
As soon as Elizabeth had been crowned queen, it became clear that there were many difficulties before her. Most of the countries of Europe accepted her as the true Queen of England, but there were two exceptions. Paul IV., who was then Pope, told the English ambassador that Elizabeth had no right to be queen, but that if she would send and beg for his permission to succeed to the throne he would give it. Elizabeth did not trouble Paul IV. She neither asked for nor wanted his permission. She ordered her ambassador to leave Rome; and she reigned for forty-five years without the Pope's leave, but with the full agreement of the people of England.
The other exception to the friendliness of the sovereigns of Europe was the conduct of Henry II., King of France. Henry declared that Elizabeth had no right to come to the throne. The true heir, he said, was Mary Stuart, great-granddaughter of Henry VII., who had married the Dauphin Francis, the heir to the throne of France.
As this claim which was made by the King of France on behalf of Mary Stuart was the beginning of a bitter quarrel between Elizabeth and Mary, and led to much trouble and sorrow, we must try to understand how it arose.
We shall understand this most easily if we look at the plan which shows the family of Henry VII. (see pp. 432 and 803). It will be seen that Elizabeth properly came before Mary Stuart, because she was the daughter of Henry VII.'s son, while Mary, was descended from Margaret, Henry VII.'s daughter. It is true that Margaret was older than Henry, but by the law and custom of England, the son of the king had the right to succeed to the throne before the daughter.
But the King of France did not forget that both the Pope and the Parliament of England had at one time declared that Elizabeth had no right to come to the throne. The Pope had declared that she could not come to the throne because Henry had no right to divorce Catharine, and to marry Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth's mother. The English Parliament in the reign of Henry VIII. had declared that Elizabeth could not succeed, because at that time Henry was angry with Anne Boleyn, and had ordered her to be executed. If it were true that Elizabeth had no right to come to the throne, then the King of France was quite right when he said that Mary Stuart was the next heir.
But there was a great deal to be said on the other side. In the first place, Henry VIII. had, with the consent of Parliament, made a will before he died, in which he specially declared that Elizabeth should come to the throne. In the second place, whatever the King of France thought, the people of England had made up the:r minds that they did not want, and would not have, either a foreign queen or a queen of the old religion, but that they did want, and would have, an English and a Protestant queen.
And there was a third reason, which no doubt had a great deal of weight with people in England who at first felt inclined to agree with the King of France, namely, that Parliament passed an Act declaring that Elizabeth was the true heir to the throne both by birth and by law, and that any man or woman who declared the contrary should be put to death, and thus it came about that, despite the Pope and despite the King of France, Elizabeth found herself seated firmly upon the throne.
The Act of Uniformity, and the Court of High Commission -- The "Puritans." (Ch 43)
"Men must beware, that in the Procuring of Religious Unity, they doe not Dissolute and Deface the Lawes of Charity and of humane Society." -- Bacon's Essays.
Two things began at once to occupy the new queen. One was the question of religion, the other was the question of marriage. Just as Mary had turned out the Protestant bishops, so Elizabeth now turned out all the Roman Catholic bishops who would not admit that Elizabeth was the true head of the Church. All the bishops but one were turned out, and Protestants put in their places; but most of the parish clergymen kept their places, and readily agreed to accept the Protestant services. Indeed, most of them were Protestants at heart.
Parliament then passed two Acts (1559), called respectively the Act of Uniformity and the Act of Supremacy. The former enacted not only that everybody in the country should publicly attend the Protestant services, but declared that all the Protestant services throughout the country were to be of one uniform pattern. The latter declared all persons to be guilty of high treason who did not admit the queen's title. Many persons were punished under these laws, and many were put to death for disobeying them. The charge which was made against those who offended against the Act of Supremacy was that they had been guilty of high treason. In order to carry out the Act of Uniformity, a special Court was set up, called the Court of High Commission.
Most of those who were tried and punished by the Court of High Commission were Roman Catholics and friends of the Pope, but some were Protestants. Many of the Protestants who had fled from the country in the time of Queen Mary had lived during their exile in Germany or Switzerland. In the latter country they had become the followers of a French Protestant preacher named Calvin, and were known as Calvinists.
In England they soon got another name. They believed that the Reformation had not gone nearly far enough, and that the Church which Elizabeth had set up under the Act of Uniformity was too much like the Roman Catholic Church whose place it had taken. They said that in a true Protestant Church there ought to be no bishops, and that each congregation ought to choose its own minister, and they declared that many other things were needed to purify the Protestant Church and to make it what it ought to be.
Because they desired, as they said, to purify the Church, these men came to be called Puritans; and though they did not become very powerful in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, we shall learn further on in our history that they played a great part in later times.
Elizabeth would not allow anyone, whether Roman Catholic or Protestant, to break the laws which she had made. She did not, like Queen Mary, say that people might not think what they liked, nor did she put people to death on account of what they thought or believed, but she declared that everyone who publicly broke the Act of Uniformity or the Act of Supremacy should be punished. And thus it was that both Roman Catholics and Puritans alike came to be condemned by the Court of High Commission.
It is sad to think that a Protestant queen and a Protestant parliament should have forgotten how much they owed to those who had fought and died for the right to worship God in the way they thought right. It is sad to think that under Elizabeth men were put to death for their religion, but, unfortunately, there is no doubt that such was the case.
There is one thing, however, which we must remember. The Roman Catholics who refused to obey the Acts were friends of the Pope, and there is no doubt that the Pope would have gladly given his help to any foreign nation which would have sent an army into England, to take the crown away from Queen Elizabeth, and to force the country back to the old religion.
It is not true to say that all the Roman Catholics who were put to death by the Court of High Commission were guilty of high treason. But it cannot be doubted that many of them hoped to see a change made in England by the help of foreign armies. No one need ever feel sorry for an Englishman who is put to death because he has been plotting to bring foreign soldiers into England against the will of the people. A man who does this is a traitor, and the sooner he is punished the better.
The Queen and Her Suitors. (Ch 43)
"Cupid all arm'd; a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal throned by the west,
And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts:
But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
Quenched in the chaste beams of the wafry moon
And the imperial votaress passed on,
In maiden meditation, fancy-free."
-- Shakespeare: "Midsummer Night's Dream."
[Spoken by Oberon, of Titania, Queen of the Fairies, but meant by Shakespeare to be a compliment to Queen Elizabeth.]
There was another important question besides that of religion which troubled Elizabeth and her ministers at the very beginning of her reign. This was the question of the queen's marriage. It was very important to the country that the queen should marry, so that there might be a Protestant heir to the throne; but to those who remembered the harm which had been done by Queen Mary's marriage with Philip of Spain, it seemed also of the greatest importance that the queen should marry the right person.
There was not likely to be any difficulty in finding a suitor for the hand of a young queen, and, indeed, there was no lack of persons ready to offer themselves; and it was soon seen that the difficulty would now be to choose among so many.
Among those who sought the hand of the queen were her brother-in-law, Philip the Second of Spain; Charles of Austria, son of the Emperor Ferdinand; Eric, King of Sweden; the Duke of Holstein, son of the King of Denmark; and the Duke of Anjou, brother of Henry III., King of France. Never did a lady have such distinguished wooers. Parliament sent an address to the queen begging her to take a husband. The queen thanked the members, but said she would rather remain single. At the same time she would not say "No" to her suitors, and seemed to incline now to one and now to another.
The Duke of Anjou was, perhaps, the one for whom she had the greatest liking, but in the end Elizabeth stuck to the resolution which she had expressed in her answer to Parliament. She would have no husband, and remained single to the end of her days -- The Virgin Queen. Whether it were that she feared the loss of her power if she had a husband, or whether it were that she never found a husband to her liking, is not certain, but, whatever her reason, Elizabeth chose to remain unmarried.
The first part of the new reign was not fortunate for England. The queen was forced to agree to give up the English claims to Calais, a town which every Englishman still hoped might be won back again; and the French town of Havre, which had been captured by the English troops, was retaken by the French after a fierce siege.
France at this time was governed by the Roman Catholic party, and for this reason was hostile to Protestant England. There were, however, in France, a great number of Protestants who, under the name of Huguenots (derived from the German word Eidgenossen, meaning "Confederates") were trying hard to upset the French Government and to put a Protestant king upon the throne. Although Elizabeth did not like to make war openly upon France, she constantly sent help to the Huguenots, and allowed English soldiers to go over and fight on their side. This was another cause for disagreement between England and France at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign; and there was a third cause, about which we shall read in the next chapter, and which at one time seemed as if it would prove more serious than either of the others.
Chapter 44. The Sorrowful History of Mary, Queen of Scots.
Mary in Scotland.
"Adieu, beloved France, adieu,
Thou ever wilt be dear to me,
Land which my happy childhood knew,
I feel I die in quitting thee."
-- Marx Beranger: "Mary Stuart's Farewell."
We must not forget that Mary Stuart, who had married the Dauphin of France, was also by right Queen of Scotland. In 1559 Henry II., King of France, died, and Francis II., Mary's husband, became King of France. It appeared as though there were here the beginning of a great danger for England. That the Queen of France should be also Queen of Scotland, and that both she and her husband should be Roman Catholics and eager to support the old religion, seemed a very serious matter. Luckily, however, for England, the young King Francis died before he had reigned eighteen months (1560), and was succeeded by his brother Charles IX.
Mary was now no longer Queen of France. Her mother-in-law, Catherine de Medicis, hated her, and Mary was glad of any reason which would take her away from the French Court, where she was now no longer mistress, and where, since the new king had come to the throne, she had few friends and many enemies. When, therefore, the message reached Mary from the Parliament of Scotland inviting her to come back to her own country and live among her subjects, she accepted, if not with joy, at any rate willingly.
On the 15th day of August, 1561, she set sail from Calais. Her heart sank as she saw the shores of France, the land in which she had been so happy, pass slowly out of sight, and tears came to her eyes as she bade adieu to that pleasant country. English ships of war were looking out for her, for Mary claimed to be Queen of England, and thereby declared herself an enemy of Elizabeth. But a sea-fog favoured the Queen of Scots, and she reached Leith, the seaport of Edinburgh, in safety.
And now, before we go any further with the story of Mary, Queen of Scots, we must pause for a moment to learn what was the condition of Scotland at this time. Unless we do so, we shall not be able to understand how it was that the story of the "Queen of Scots" plays so important a part in the history of England.
The division which had been caused in England by the Protestant Reformation had been very great, but in Scotland the division was even greater, for the two parties soon came to blows, and a fierce civil war broke out. We have seen how among the Protestant exiles, who came back at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, there were followers of Calvin, men who afterwards were called Puritans in England, but the fiercest and most earnest follower of Calvin came to Scotland. This was John Knox, who soon became the head of the party of Reformers in Scotland. Everywhere he preached against the Roman Catholic Church, and went so far as to make violent attacks upon the queen to her face. He preached so fiercely against her one day that Mary, frightened by his language and by his harsh appearance, burst into tears.
But though the party of Knox and the Reformers was very strong, Mary, too, had many friends. She was young and she was beautiful. There seems no doubt, indeed, that she was one of the most beautiful women of her time. She could always reckon upon the goodwill of France, now she had left it, and the Roman Catholic party in Scotland was still powerful.
Nor was this all. There were many thousands in England who belonged to the old religion, and who believed that Elizabeth had no right to the crown. But if Elizabeth had no right to the crown, then Mary, Queen of Scots was the true Queen of England. Thus it will be seen that Mary had good friends, and a great chance of success when she first came to Scotland. If she had only shown more wisdom, her fate might have been a very fortunate one, but she chose to do things which made her own friends desert her, and which made her enemies feel that she was a danger to them as long as she lived.
Mary's first husband had been Francis II, King of France, and she was now a widow; but it was not long before she married again. She chose as her husband Henry Darnley, a young nobleman of handsome appearance but of a bad and brutal character. She soon learned to hate her new husband. Among the courtiers of the queen was an Italian named David Rizzio, of whom the queen was very fond. He was a good musician and a clever talker, and the queen, fresh from the gay Court of France, liked his company much better than that of the savage Scottish nobles who were the companions of Henry Darnley.
In a fit of jealousy, Darnley, with three of the lords -- Morton, Ruthven, and Lindsay -- broke into the room where the queen was sitting with the Countess of Argyle and Rizzio. Mary tried to protect her friend, but the lords dragged Rizzio from her and murdered him with their daggers in the next room. In the royal palace of Holyrood, in Edinburgh, the room is still shown where Mary was sitting when her husband and his cruel friends broke in, and the place is pointed out where Rizzio fell pierced with no less than fifty-five wounds. From that moment the queen determined to be rid of Darnley, and her determination was all the greater because she had already made up her mind to marry a third husband.
The husband whom the queen had made up her mind to marry was the Earl of Bothwell. It was not long before the queen was free to do what she wished. Darnley fell ill of small-pox. By the queen's order he was brought to her house near Edinburgh, called the Kirk-o'-fields. Mary herself went to nurse him there, but returned to Edinburgh in the evening. On the night of the 9th February, 1567, she left her husband at ten o'clock to go to a ball at the palace, At three o'clock in the morning a violent explosion took place. Kirk-o'-fields was blown up by gunpowder, and the body of Darnley was found among the ruins. No one doubted that Bothwell had been the murderer, and many declared that the queen had known of the plot.
The Flight of Mary, Queen of Scots. (Ch 44)
"The Queen, the Beauty, sets the world in arms." -- Johnson: "Vanity of Human Wishes."
But although everyone, whether in Scotland or in other countries, declared that Bothwell was her husband's murderer, Mary was determined to have her own way, and married him two months after the death of Darnley.
At first the Parliament of Scotland had declared that Bothwell was innocent, but as soon as the queen actually married him they no longer pretended to have any doubt of his guilt. A number of the Protestant lords took up arms. They declared Bothwell to be the murderer of the king, they sent to Queen Elizabeth for help, and they marched against Mary and her husband. Bothwell fled to the Orkney Islands. Hunted from his refuge, he put to sea, and was driven by a storm on to the coast of Norway. There he was taken, imprisoned as a pirate, and died in prison eleven years later.
Queen Mary herself was taken prisoner by the lords and shut up in Lochleven Castle, in the middle of Loch Leven. It was not long, however, before the queen succeeded in making her escape. No sooner was she free than she called upon her friends to help her. She at once raised an army, and marched against her half-brother, Murray, the leader of the Protestant lords. The two armies met at Langside, near Glasgow, and the battle which took place ended in the entire defeat of the queen's troops.
Mary herself rode off at full speed, and never stopped till she reached Dundrennan, on the Solway Firth. There she paused, uncertain what course to take. Behind her were Murray and the Scottish lords, her bitter enemies; in front, across the waters of the Solway, were England and Queen Elizabeth, whose crown she had claimed and whose enmity she had good reason to fear. Her friends advised her not to set foot in England, but rather to return to her friends in France.
Mary, however, made up her mind to take refuge in England and to trust to the goodwill of Elizabeth. She crossed the water in a small boat and landed at Workington, in Cumberland. Thence she went to Carlisle. News was at once brought to Elizabeth that her rival was now in her power. From that day forward Mary was really a prisoner during the whole of the nineteen years which passed between the day of her defeat at Langside and the day of her death (1587).
The Queen of Scots in England. (Ch 44)
"The glory and the glow
Of the world's loveliness hath passed away;
And Fate hath little to inflict to-day,
And nothing to bestow."
-- W. M. Praed: "Retrospect."
The story of these years is a sorrowful one. It is not easy, even at the present day, to give a clear account of what really took place, or to say how far Mary, Queen of Scots deserved the fate that overtook her. Even now, three hundred years after the time when these things took place, there are many people who declare that Mary was a good and an honest woman, most unjustly and cruelly treated by Elizabeth. On the other hand, there are many who declare that Mary was a bad woman, who, having murdered one husband in order to marry another, took part in plots against the life of Queen Elizabeth, and was ready to get the help of France, Spain, or Scotland to enable her to seize the crown of England against the wishes of the English people.
One thing, however, is certain -- namely, that while Mary, Queen of Scots remained alive and in England she was always a danger to Elizabeth and to the Protestant cause. In France, in Spain, and in Scotland her best friends were the worst enemies of England. On Queen Elizabeth's death, Mary would, beyond doubt, have become Queen of England, and the enemies of England would have expected her to help them, and to put down the Protestants.
While Mary was in England, plot after plot was made against Elizabeth by Mary's friends, and by men who looked to her as their rightful queen. Whether Mary knew of all or of any of these plots is uncertain. It is most probable that she knew of most of them, but it is not proved that she helped them on. It was certainly believed that she had taken part in the murder of Darnley, and a box or casket was found, containing letters which proved, if they were genuine, that Mary certainly did know of the murder.
But there were many who said then, and many who still believe, that these "casket letters," as they were called, were forgeries -- that is to say, that they were written by Mary's enemies for the purpose of making people believe that she was guilty.
Whatever may have been the truth about Mary's guilt, Elizabeth made up her mind from the time Mary first came into Carlisle that she should be kept a prisoner. Year after year the beautiful Queen of Scots was moved from one prison to another. Each time a new plot was discovered, or each time Elizabeth's friends declared that they had found out a new plot, Mary's imprisonment was made stricter and harsher.
She begged to see Elizabeth, but Elizabeth never consented to see her. At length Mary was removed to her last prison, the Castle of Fotheringay, near Peterborough. Whether at that time Elizabeth had made up her mind that Mary should be put to death is not certain, but the discovery of a new plot sealed her fate. The plot, which was known as Babington's conspiracy, was the work of a young man named Babington. His plan was to set Mary Stuart free, to stab Queen Elizabeth with a dagger, to invite the Spanish troops in the Netherlands to come over and attack England, and to set up the Roman Catholic religion again. Whether Mary knew of this plot is not quite certain. It does not seem likely that she approved of it, but she had received a letter from Babington; and this letter was found.
Elizabeth and her ministers now decided that the time had come when an end must be put, once for all, to these dangers. Babington and his friends were taken, tried, and executed. The next thing to be done was to try Mary herself. The trial took place at Fotheringay. It was soon plain to all that the judges whom Elizabeth had appointed had already made up their minds as to what their sentence was to be. Mary was to die.
In these last hours of her life the Queen of Scots behaved with wonderful courage. She asked to be brought face to face with her accusers. She declared that she was Queen of Scots, and that an English court had no right to try her. She was innocent, she said, and she was about to be unjustly condemned without being heard in her own defence.
But neither her courage nor her arguments moved the minds of her judges. On the 25th of October, 1586, the judges gave their sentence. They declared that "Mary Stuart, commonly called Queen of Scots," was guilty of "pretending a title to the Crown of this Realm of England, tending to the hurt, death, and destruction of the Royal Person of our Lady the Queen." They also declared that she had taken part in Babington's plot. Their sentence was that she should be put to death.
Parliament at once begged Elizabeth to order the sentence to be carried out. There can be no doubt that most Englishmen, and nearly all Protestant Englishmen, were tired of these plots against their queen; and that when the Parliament begged Elizabeth to put Mary to death they really spoke the wishes of the people. For some time Elizabeth refused to sign the warrant, or order, for the execution. Whether she really wished to save Mary's life or not is uncertain, but she wished to be able to say that she had consented to sign the death-warrant against her own will, and only because her Parliament and her ministers told her that it was her duty. At last, however, she gave an order to affix the Great Seal to the warrant.
And now we come to the last scene in the life of the unhappy Mary, Queen of Scots. The courage which had kept her up through the trial did not forsake her on the scaffold. She listened quietly to the reading of the order for her death. She declared that after nearly twenty years of imprisonment death was welcome, and that she was glad to die for her religion. As for the plots against Queen Elizabeth, she vowed that she had never taken any part in them by thought, deed, or word.
On the next day (February 8th, 1587), early in the morning, she was led into the great hall of Fotheringay Castle. It was hung with black, and in the middle were the executioner and the block. The ladies who were with her wept bitterly, but Mary herself remained firm till the fatal moment when the axe of the executioner fell. Thus died the unfortunate Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, in the forty-fifth year of her age,
Chapter 45. Protestants and Roman Catholics Abroad and at Home
The Huguenots.
"Remember Saint Bartholomew!" -- Macaulay: "Ivry."
But if Elizabeth had troubles at home, she had also troubles abroad. The same quarrel between Protestants and Roman Catholics which was going on in England and Scotland was going on at the same time in almost all the countries of Europe. In France the Protestants, who were called Huguenots, had grown in numbers, and had gained strength; but the Roman Catholic party was still stronger. In Spain the cruel persecution which had been undertaken had really succeeded, for the few Protestants in Spain had been put to death, or driven out of the country, or compelled to change their religion.
But, though the Spaniards had succeeded in putting down Protestantism in their own country, they found they had a harder task before them when they came to try to do the same thing in the Netherlands, which were at that time under the government of the King of Spain. The sturdy Dutchmen fought fiercely for their religion, and they had on their side the goodwill of all the Protestants of England.
It was not easy for Elizabeth to know what was the wisest course to take. She was a Protestant queen, and both she and her people wished that the Protestant cause should triumph in Europe. But Spain and France were powerful countries, and it was a dangerous thing for a queen who had enemies enough at home, to declare war openly upon such powerful sovereigns as the kings of Spain and France.
But what Elizabeth did not dare to do, many of her subjects undertook. Hundreds of Englishmen crossed over to France and to the Netherlands to fight on the side of their Protestant friends. There can be no doubt that Elizabeth wished for their success, and often gave them help in their expeditions; but if they failed in what they undertook, she was careful to declare that they had acted against her will and contrary to her wish.
At the beginning of Elizabeth's reign France was an enemy to England, and Spain was for a short time friendly with England, but before many years had gone by this state of things had changed. Two things had happened in France which helped to bring about the change.
On the 24th of August, 1572, St. Bartholomew's Day, a terrible massacre had taken place. The followers of the Duke of Guise, who was at the head of the Roman Catholic party in France, had murdered no less than 40,000 of the chief men among the Protestant party in Paris. The houses of the Huguenots had been marked beforehand, and on the evening of St. Bartholomew's Day, the cruel work of dragging condemned men from their houses and of putting them to death was begun. Admiral Coligny, the chief of the Huguenots in Paris, was among those who were murdered.
The king, Charles IX., himself had taken part in the massacre. It was said that he amused himself by shooting down the Protestants from the window of his palace. The Pope, Gregory XIII., approved of the action of the Roman Catholics. It is easy to understand that this cruel massacre made the Protestants of England more determined than ever to stand by their queen and to protect themselves against a danger such as that which had overtaken their friends in France.
In France itself it soon became clear that the massacre had done more harm than good to the Roman Catholic cause. Henry of Navarre, the leader of the Huguenots, had escaped with his life, but on the death, in 1589, of Henry III., who had succeeded Charles IX. as King of France, he took up arms and put himself at the head of his party. He won a great victory at the Battle of Ivry (1590), and was able to advance as far as Paris itself. He was told that the people of Paris would welcome him, and would receive him as their king. But on one condition only. He must declare himself a Roman Catholic. "Paris is worth a mass," said the king; and he consented to make the change which was required of him. In March, 1593, he entered Paris to be crowned Henry IV., King of France.
[Mass is a form of service in the Roman catholic Church.]
But though Henry IV., King of France, had changed his religion to gain a kingdom, he remained till the end of his life a good friend to the Huguenots, to whose help he owed his crown. He issued an edict, or decree, which was called the Edict of Nantes, from Nantes, a town on the west coast of France, at which the decree was signed (1598). The "Edict of Nantes" gave to the French Protestants the right to follow their own religion, and to live in France as the equals of the Roman Catholics. Nor was this all; as long as he lived, Henry IV. was a good friend to Elizabeth and to Protestant England. It is easy, therefore, to understand how great a change took place in the feeling between England and France when Henry IV. became king.
England and Spain. (Ch 45)
"The life-and-death wrestle between the Reformation and the Old Religion had settled into a permanent struggle between England and Spain. France was disabled. All the help which Elizabeth could spare barely enabled the Netherlands to defend themselves. Protestantism, if it conquered, must conquer on another field, and by the circumstances of the time the championship of the Reformed Faith fell to the English sailors." -- Froude.
But though England had now many friends in France, it was soon clear that she had made an enemy of Spain. It will be remembered that Philip II. of Spain, after the death of Queen Mary, had made an offer for the hand of his sister-in-law, Queen Elizabeth. Elizabeth had refused the offer. She had made up her mind not to marry at all, but if she did marry she knew better than to choose for her husband a man so hated by her subjects as Philip II. It will easily be understood that the refusal of Elizabeth to accept him as her husband may have made Philip unfriendly towards England.
But Philip soon had much stronger reasons for looking on England as an enemy. The time about which we are now reading was a time in which almost every year brought some new discovery. Each year bold sailors from Portugal, Spain, France, and England, sailed further and further, into seas till then unknown, and brought back rich merchandise from countries which people from Europe had never before visited.
The Portuguese and the Spaniards had got the start of the other nations of Europe. Already the Portuguese had established colonies in the East, while the Spaniards had conquered Mexico and other parts of the coast of America, which were then known as the Spanish Main, or mainland. From their new possessions the Spaniards brought into Europe immense riches in the form of gold and silver from the mines of Mexico and Peru. Most of the new lands which they had conquered were in hot climates, where white men could not work, and already the cruel trade known as the slave trade had begun. Slaves, most of them from Africa, were taken across the sea to work in the new colonies.
But it soon became pretty clear that the wealth of Mexico and the Spanish Main was not to be left in the hands of Spaniards alone. The Spaniards found themselves face to face with a nation of seamen, who step by step, and year by year, forced from them the place which they had so long held as the principal colonists of the New World.
Throughout the whole reign of Queen Elizabeth the great struggle between Spaniards and Englishmen was going on. It was a fierce and cruel struggle on both sides. Both Spaniards and Englishmen fought for gold, and men who fight for gold are often fierce enough and cruel enough.
But the fight between Spaniards and Englishmen was also a fight between Roman Catholics and Protestants, between the Old Religion and the New. The Spaniard looked upon the Englishman not only as a man who wished to rob Spain of the great prizes which she had won in the New World, but as a heretic, a man who was hateful to God, and who might justly burn at the stake for his sins. The Englishman, in his turn, looked upon the Spaniard as a cruel, narrow-minded man, the persecutor of Protestants, the friend of the cruel tortures of the Inquisition, and the enemy of England.
With these fierce hatreds on both sides, the strife between the two nations was certain to be fought out to the bitter end, and it is to this strife that we must now turn our attention, for unless we do so, we shall understand but little of the true history of the reign of Queen Elizabeth.
It was not to be supposed that Philip of Spain would long endure the attacks which were made upon his subjects by the English sailors. Indeed, he had plenty of reasons for being angry with Queen Elizabeth and her people. Philip had once been King of England, and after Mary's death he had sought the hand of Elizabeth in the hope that he might regain the place which he had lost. But Elizabeth, greatly to the joy of her subjects, had refused to become the wife of a Roman Catholic and a Spaniard.
For several years past English Protestant soldiers had been flocking over to the Netherlands to fight on behalf of their fellow Protestants against the Spaniards. And now Frobisher, Drake, and many another English captain, were engaged in burning Spanish ships, sacking Spanish colonies, seizing the wealth of Spain, under the very guns of the Spanish fortresses, and, in the words of Francis Drake, "doing all they could to singe the King of Spain's beard."
And last, but not least, Philip, as a great champion of the Pope, looked upon Elizabeth and her people as heretics, whom it was his duty to bring back if necessary, by the sword to the true religion. No wonder, then, that at last Philip of Spain should have made up his mind to strike one great blow at England, a blow which he hoped would once for all break the power of the Protestant party, and chase these fierce islanders from the sea.
Chapter 46. The Story of the Great Armada
England in Peril.
"The nations not so blest as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall,
Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
"Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak.
"Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine.
And thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine!
"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves!"
-- Thomson: "Rule, Britannia."
In the year 1587, Philip began to make preparations for the famous expedition against England which has made Queen Elizabeth's reign for ever famous in the history of our country. He collected sailors and soldiers not only from Spain, but from all those parts of Europe which were at that time under the government of Spain from Sicily, Genoa, and Venice, and from the Low Countries.
It was Philip's plan to collect a large army near Antwerp, which is only two hundred miles from London, and to bring it across the Channel under the protection of a great fleet which was to sail from Spain. Thirty thousand foot-soldiers and eighteen hundred cavalry were collected in the Netherlands. Another great army was raised in Spain, and all the best and bravest soldiers of Spain came forward ready and longing to fight in the cause which they believed to be so good a one, and to share in the victories which the Invincible Armada, or "The Unconquerable Fleet," was to earn for Spain.
But Philip was not content with collecting ships, soldiers, and sailors. He sent to the Pope to ask for his aid and his blessing. The Pope sent his blessing, and, in order to help still further the cause of Spain, he declared Elizabeth to be deposed from her throne. It may seem at first sight as if it mattered very little what the Pope said, and that no declaration made at Rome would alter things in England. But it must not be forgotten that many, if not all, of the Roman Catholics in England believed that the Pope had the right to depose Queen Elizabeth, and that when she had once been deposed they were no longer bound to obey her or to look upon her as their queen.
This was a real danger, and it is not to be wondered at that Elizabeth and her ministers should at first have taken very severe steps to prevent the Roman Catholics from giving any help to the Spaniards, or acting as the Pope wished them to act. Many were imprisoned upon very slight suspicion, and some were cruelly treated. There was also a real danger at one time lest the Protestants, who were now the larger part of the nation, should try to take vengeance upon the Roman Catholics for the massacre of St. Bartholomew and the cruelties which had been practised by the Spanish generals in the Netherlands.
Luckily, however, the danger passed over, and soon it was seen that, though there might be a few exceptions, when England was in peril of invasion by a foreign enemy, all Englishmen were united and ready to stand shoulder to shoulder for their country's cause.
Hundreds of Roman Catholics came forward and offered to serve by sea or by land against the enemy, determined to show that they were Englishmen first and servants of the Pope afterwards: a true and proper spirit for every man of English birth.
How the "Armada" Came, and what they did in England. (Ch 46)
"With God, for Queen and Fatherland."
And now we come to one of the most stirring and splendid chapters in the history of England --the story of how the country, with its great queen at its head, rose as one man to protect the shores of England from the Spaniards. It seemed a fight against terrible odds. The fleets of Spain were the largest in the world. The thousands of soldiers who obeyed Philip had become hardened in the art of war, and were the foremost warriors of their age. The wealth of the New World filled the coffers of the Spanish king to overflowing.
England, on the other hand, seemed altogether unfitted to hold her own against such a foe. Her people were still divided by a great religious quarrel. Within the island, of which England formed but a part, there was another nation which might at any time take the opportunity of working off its old grudges against its old enemy. No one could say from day to day how soon a Scottish army might not cross the Border.
As to an English army, there was none. There were a certain number of armed men bound to serve the queen, but they were not accustomed to act together. Few of them had any experience of war, and training such as that of the well-drilled Spanish regiments was unknown. Of ships the country had a fair supply, but they were mostly small merchant vessels armed with a few guns, but not reckoned fit to fight against the tall ships and the heavily armed "galliasses" of Spain.
But some advantages England did possess. Her coasts could only be approached across a stormy sea, and, as has so often happened in English history, the winds and the waves proved her greatest ally. Moreover, Elizabeth, whatever faults she may have had, was a true Englishwoman, and fit to be queen of a great country in a time of trial. She faced the danger bravely. She called upon her people to stand by her, and with one accord the people answered her appeal.
On every side volunteers came forward in thousands. Merchants offered their ships for the war, and offered them with powder, shot, and crews all ready on board. A hundred and thirty thousand men were mustered throughout the kingdom. Fortifications were put up at the mouth of the Thames and elsewhere, and every ship fit for service was manned and stationed in the Channel.
There is a fine description of Queen Elizabeth taking her right place as chief of her people in time of danger. She rode down to Tilbury to review the army, and these are her words as they have come down to us:
"My loving people! We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear! I have always so behaved myself, that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects; and, therefore, I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation and sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood even in the dust. I know that I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and a king of England, too, and think foul scorn that Parma, * or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which, rather than any dishonour should grow by me, I will myself take up arms. I myself will be your general, the judge and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field."
[The Duke of Parma was the Spanish general in the Netherlands.]
These were indeed words worthy of a Queen of England.
The preparations for the sailing of the great Armada dragged along very slowly. Once the ships put to sea, but were driven back by stormy weather. At last, on the eighth of July, 1588, the fleet started once more on its great task of conquering England.
The preparations which had been made were immense. The number of ships was one hundred and thirty-one. The number of sailors was nearly 8,000. Seventeen thousand soldiers were packed into the different vessels. There were 180 priests on board, and 85 surgeons and doctors. The priests were to convert the English from their Protestantism when England had been taken. The doctors and surgeons were to take care of the wounded in case the Armada suffered any loss in battle. As matters turned out, the doctors found more to do than the priests. On one of the ships, the "Capitana," there was a chest full of beautifully made swords, which were to be given to the English Roman Catholic lords when they had joined the Spaniards against their queen and country.
The Duke of Medina Sidonia was at the head of the whole fleet. Under him was Admiral Recalde, and many other officers famous for their bravery and skill in war. The duke's orders were very strict. He was to sail up the Channel till he got to Dunkirk. He was to stop for no man. If the English came out to fight him he was to sail on and let them follow. When he got to Dunkirk, he was to take on board the army which was waiting there to join him. He was to enter the Thames, land the troops, and wait till England had submitted.
All went well with the great Armada for the first few days. A few ships which were scattered by a storm joined the fleet again. On a Friday afternoon the leading ships came within sight of the English land, and they could see the high cliffs of the Lizard to the north.
Meanwhile, in England the whole people, from Berwick to The Land's End, were waiting in anxious expectation for the first news of the enemy. Beacons were prepared along the coast, and on every high point throughout the country. The orders were to light them as soon as the Spanish ships were sighted.
"The Enemy in Sight." (Ch 46)
"Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea,
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be.
From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,
That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day."
-- Macaulay: "The Armada."
It was a Scottish privateer named Fleming who first brought the news to Plymouth that the enemy was at hand. He had seen them off the Lizard, and they were coming up Channel with a fair wind.
When the news came, the captains of the warships were playing a game of bowls on Plymouth Hoe, a flat green space which looks out on the broad and beautiful waters of Plymouth Sound.
Here is a description of some of the men who were playing in this famous game of bowls, or who stood by to watch the players. The account is by Charles Kingsley, who wrote a noble and famous book called "Westward Ho," in which this whole story of the fight against the Armada is told at much greater length than it can be told here:
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
"See those five talking earnestly. Those soft long eyes and pointed chin you recognise already; they are Walter Raleigh's. The fair young man in the flame-coloured doublet, whose arm is round Raleigh's neck, is Lord Sheffield; opposite them stands, by the side of Sir Richard Grenville, a man as stately even as he, Lord Sheffield's uncle, the Lord Charles Howard of Effingham, Lord High Admiral of England; next to him is his son-in-law, Sir Robert Southwell, captain of the Elizabeth Jonas; but who is that short, sturdy, plainly-dressed man, who stands with legs a little apart, and hands behind his back, looking up, with keen grey eyes, into the face of each speaker? His cap is in his hands, so you can see the bullet head of crisp brown hair and the wrinkled forehead, as well as the high cheek-bones, the short square face, the broad temples, the thick lips, which are yet as firm as granite. A coarse plebeian stamp of man: yet the whole figure and attitude are those of boundless determination, self-possession, and energy; and when at last he speaks a few blunt words, all eyes are turned respectfully upon him -- for his name is Francis Drake.
"A burly, grizzled elder, in greasy sea-stained garments, contrasting oddly with the huge gold chain about his neck, waddles up, as if he had been born, and had lived ever since, in a gale of wind at sea. The upper half of his sharp dogged visage seems of brick-red leather, the lower of badger's fur; and as he claps Drake on the back, and with a broad Devon twang, shouts, 'Be you a coming to drink your wine, Francis Drake, or be you not ? -- saving your presence, my lord;' the Lord High Admiral only laughs, and bids Drake go and drink his wine; for John Hawkins, Admiral of the port, is the Patriarch of Plymouth seamen, if Drake be their hero, and says and does pretty much what he likes.
"In the crowd is many another man whom one would gladly have spoken with face to face on earth. Martin Frobisher and John Davis are sitting on that bench, smoking tobacco from long silver pipes."
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
It was to this company that Captain Fleming brought his great piece of news. Lord Howard would have gone off at once to his ship, but Hawkins was in no such hurry. He would rather, he said, finish his game before he left. Drake agreed with Hawkins. "There was time to finish the game first, and beat the Spaniards afterwards." So the famous game was finished; and then the old sea captains turned to their work with a will. We shall see how well they did it.
As Drake said, "there was time enough," but there was not too much. The English ships with difficulty warped out to sea against a head wind. They got out just in time to see the great Spanish fleet sweeping up the Channel in an immense crescent, the horns of which were fully seven miles apart. For a short time the Spaniards paused. Many of the wisest of them were in favour of sailing into Plymouth Sound and engaging the English fleet in the narrow waters, where the heavy slow-sailing ships of Spain would fight to the greatest advantage.
"How the Armada Failed." (Ch 46)
"Then courage, noble Englishmen,
And never be dismayed;
If that we be but one to ten,
We will not be afraid."
-- "Ballad of Brave Lord Willoughby."
But the Duke of Medina Sidonia dared not disobey his orders, and he sailed on again eastwards. Howard and Drake allowed the enemy to pass, and then followed them up the Channel. Soon the fighting began. The Capitana ran into another Spanish ship and became disabled. Her friends left her in the lurch, and she was soon captured by the English. On board her was found the chest of swords which were to have gone to the English Roman Catholic lords as soon as they had turned traitors to their country.
The Spaniards soon had reason to know that when England is in danger, Englishmen can put aside their differences; for some of these very Roman Catholic lords were at that moment in full pursuit of the Armada, and the heavy guns of their ships were firing their shot into the high sides of the Spanish vessels.
It soon became clear that, big as the Spanish ships were, they were no match either in sailing or in gunnery for the English. The English ships were longer and lower than those of the Spaniards. They sailed far better than the tall galleons. The Spaniards longed to get close with their enemy to grapple with him, and then make use of the crowds of soldiers whom they carried. But the English ships were too quick for them.
Moreover, it soon became clear that in another matter the English had an advantage. We have seen that as far back as the time of Henry VIII. very large cannon had been made in England, and those that were now carried on the English ships were heavier and more powerful than any which had ever been used at sea. "Never had there been so fierce a cannonade before in the history of the world," said one of the Spanish officers.
It was feared at one time that the Spaniards might stop off the Isle of Wight and attack Portsmouth and Southampton. But once more the Duke of Medina Sidonia obeyed his orders, and kept on his way towards Dunkirk. Many of the English ships, after fierce fighting for many hours, ran out of powder, and had to go back to port for more. But those who returned for this purpose came back to the fleet again, and as the Spaniards got nearer to Dunkirk the English fleet increased.
At Dunkirk the Spaniards found their friends waiting for them on shore, and the English fleet under Lord Howard, Drake, and Hawkins was joined by another fleet under Lord Henry Seymour, which had been left to watch Dunkirk and protect the Thames. It was here that the great battle took place. The Spaniards would not come out to sea, so the English captains thought of a plan by which they could make them come out. Fire-ships were got ready filled with tar, powder, pitch, and everything that would burn fiercely. Two brave men, Captain Young and Captain Prowse, undertook to take the fire-ships close to the Spanish fleet. In the darkness they came within a short distance of where the Spaniards lay at anchor. The fire-ships were lighted and left to sail by themselves before the strong wind in among the Spanish lines.
The Spanish ships cut their anchor cables in their haste to escape from the terrible danger which threatened them, and got out to sea as best they could. But some had no spare anchors, and when they got outside the harbour, could not anchor again, and were carried far away from the rest of the fleet. Some of them drifted ashore and were wrecked; then, to make matters worse, the English fleet came sailing down with a fair wind.
The battle raged with fury. The shot from the heavy English cannon went through and through the Spanish ships, which were crowded with soldiers, the decks ran with blood, yet neither side would give way. But as the day drew on the Spaniards could bear it no longer. Some of their best ships were disabled or taken. Hundreds of their men had been killed. The water-casks which carried their fresh water had been shot through and through. There was nothing for it but to get away by the easiest road. At one time it seemed as if the wind would drive the fleet on shore, and for a while the Spaniards thought there would be nothing left for them but to surrender. But the wind changed, and blew, as it so often does in the Channel, from the south-west.
How the "Armada" went Home Again. (Ch 46)
"Afflavit Deus et dissipantur." ["God blew with His breath, and they were scattered."] -- Motto on the medal struck to commemorate the defeat of the Spanish Armada.
What was left of the Armada toiled slowly on its way into the North Sea. The English did not follow. As has often happened in English history, those whose business it was to keep our soldiers and sailors properly supplied had not done their duty. Lord Howard, Drake, and all the other English sailors had fought their best, and were willing to go on fighting, but they could not fight without powder. There was no powder left in most of the ships, and there was no more to be got. But what the English cannon were not able to do was done by the stormy seas of the German Ocean and the Atlantic.
The Armada sailed north, past the mouth of the Thames, past Hull, and past Leith, until it reached Cape Wrath. There the vessels turned to the westward between the Orkney Islands and the mainland of Scotland. They dared not return through the narrow waters of the St. George's Channel, but kept on into the Atlantic till they had passed the north-west corner of Ireland.
Then, at last, they turned southwards towards their Spanish homes, but few ever reached the ports from which they sailed. The great rollers of the Atlantic broke up the tall unwieldy ships, and the south-westerly gales drove them on to the rocky and inhospitable shores of Donegal, Sligo, Galway, and Kerry. Those who escaped the fury of the waves, fell into the hands of the wild Irish tribes, or of the English soldiers and settlers. The former in many cases put them to death for the plunder which might be taken from them. The latter threw them into prison or killed them, as enemies of England, and men likely to be dangerous in case they took part with those of the Irish who were in rebellion against Elizabeth.
Of the whole great expedition which had left Spain to conquer England less than 10,000 men returned alive, and of these many hundreds, worn out by hardship and starvation, died shortly after they had returned to their homes.
When the news of the great disaster was brought to Philip, he bore himself like a brave man. He thanked Heaven that the misfortune was no worse. "We are bound," he wrote, "to give-praise to God for all things which He is pleased to do. I, on the present occasion, have given thanks to Him for the mercy which He has shown. In the foul weather and violent storms to which the Armada has been exposed, it might have experienced a worse fate."
In England the news was received by all men with true joy and thankfulness. At last the power of Spain upon the sea had been broken, and England and the Protestant religion were safe from attack. A great Thanksgiving Service, at which the queen attended, was held in St. Paul's Cathedral. A medal was struck to mark the deliverance of the country from its enemies, and round its edge was written in Latin, "God blew with His breath, and they were scattered."
It was, indeed, true, that although the valour, seamanship, and skill of our English seamen had broken the first attack of the Armada and saved the country from invasion, it was the winds and the waves, the tempests of the Atlantic, and the rock-bound coasts of Scotland and Ireland which had destroyed the proudest ships of the great Armada, and had wrecked for ever the hopes of the King of Spain.
Chapter 47. The Last Years of the Great Queen.
The Queen and Her Favourite.
"Essex, the ornament of the Court and of the Camp, the model of chivalry, the munificent patron of genius, whom great virtues, great courage, great talents, the favour of his sovereign, the love of his countrymen, all that seemed to ensure a happy and glorious life, led to an early and an ignominious death." -- Macaulay: "Burleigh and his Times" (1832).
It was in the year 1588 that the Spanish Armada was defeated, and Elizabeth had already reigned for thirty years. She was still unmarried. She had always feared that if she took a husband she might have to submit to his will and to give up her own. This, however, did not prevent her choosing from among her courtiers favourites, by whom for a time she allowed herself to be governed, and on whom she bestowed wealth, honours, and power.
It was in the year 1588 that the Earl of Leicester, who for several years had been the favourite of the queen, died. It was not long before she chose another of her courtiers to take his place. This was the Earl of Essex, a young man of great courage, very handsome, and much loved by the people. The earl soon gained great power over the queen, and like all men who gain great power, he made many enemies. Among these enemies were Sir Walter Raleigh and Robert Cecil, son of Lord Burleigh.
The enemies of Essex at length found an opportunity of injuring him in the eyes of the queen. A rebellion had broken out in Ireland (1599), at the head of which was O'Neil, Earl of Tyrone. Raleigh and Cecil persuaded the queen to send Essex as her general into Ireland. They felt sure that Essex, though brave, had not the wisdom nor the knowledge to enable him to carry on this difficult war. They proved to be right.
Essex failed to put down the rebellion, and returned to London disappointed and disgraced. Lord Mountjoy took his place as general in Ireland, and after fierce fighting he succeeded in defeating O'Neil (1601). The war was marked by great cruelty on both sides, and the land was laid waste, towns and villages were burned to the ground over a large part of Ireland; but peace was at last restored, and the authority of the queen was fixed in the country more firmly than before.
Meanwhile the enemies of Essex were not content with what they had done. They brought charges against him, and accused him of having played the part of a coward in the war against the Earl of Tyrone. Essex was found guilty, and was sentenced to be imprisoned in his own house. He was soon set at liberty, and in fierce anger against his enemies he was unwise enough to try by force of arms to compel the queen to punish Cecil and his friends.
He appeared in the streets of London with three hundred armed men. He hoped that the Londoners, who had always been fond of him, would rise and help him. But no one moved. Essex was imprisoned, and sent to the Tower. He was tried, and condemned to death as a traitor. For some time Elizabeth refused to sign the order for his death, but at last she consented to do so, and her favourite was executed at the Tower.
There is a well-known story told of the death of Essex. It is said that Queen Elizabeth had given her favourite a ring, and had told him that if ever he needed her help in the time of danger or trouble, he should send this ring to her. As he lay in prison shortly before his death, the earl saw from the window of his cell a boy who, from his appearance, he thought might be trusted with the precious ring. He threw the ring through the window, the boy picked it up, and Essex begged him to carry it to his cousin Lady Scrope.
But the boy, unluckily, made a mistake. He took the ring on which Essex's life depended to Lady Nottingham, sister of Lady Scrope. Now, Lady Nottingham was a bitter enemy of the earl's, and she kept the ring. Elizabeth, so the story goes, waited long for the token which she expected to receive, but it never came. Believing that Essex was too proud or too angry to claim his life at her hands, Elizabeth signed the fatal order; and Essex, believing that Elizabeth had been false to him and to her promise, met his death (1601).
After the earl's death the Countess of Nottingham fell ill. On her death-bed she sent to beg the queen to come to her, and she confessed what she had done. She begged the Queen's pardon for her crime. Elizabeth was furious. She struck the dying countess in her fury. "God may pardon you," she cried, "but I will never pardon you."
The Death of the Great Queen. (Ch 47)
"That great queen has now been lying two hundred and thirty years in Henry VII.'s Chapel. Yet her memory is still dear to the hearts of a free people." -- Macaulay (1832).
The long reign of Elizabeth was now drawing to its close, and its close was sad and dark. Essex had been a favourite with the people, and Elizabeth felt that she had lost the love of many of her subjects by consenting to the death of a man whom she, too, loved. In her old age she had grown feeble, and her proud spirit often deserted her. She lay for hours by herself, speaking to no one, and refusing to be comforted. She had no child, and her courtiers were beginning to turn their thoughts from the old queen to the young king, who must so soon follow her on the throne.
Cecil and Raleigh had already begun to write letters to James of Scotland, for it was James VI., King of Scotland, who, by right of descent and by the will of Elizabeth herself, was now to become King of England. The fear which had been expressed when Henry VII. gave his daughter in marriage to the Scottish king, was now proved to be well-founded. The Queen of England, the granddaughter of Henry VII., was childless, and the Scottish king, descended from Margaret Tudor, was to take his place upon the throne of England.
On the 24th of March, 1603, Queen Elizabeth died, at her palace at Richmond, in the seventieth year of her age and the forty-fifth of her reign. With all her faults, she was one of the greatest of our sovereigns. With her we come to the end of the Tudor period. She was the last of the Tudors; and, what is more, she was the last sovereign of England. Never had England been greater or richer in famous men and famous deeds than in the time of its last sovereign.
The next reign brought a Stuart king to the throne. This Stuart king was king not only of England but of Scotland, and from that time onwards the history of England and the history of Scotland go forward, side by side, as the history of one great and united country. The last Queen of England lies in Westminster Abbey, and the beautiful monument raised to her memory may be seen to this day, in the stately chapel built by her grandfather, which forms part of the ancient Abbey of Westminster.
Chapter 48. A New World and a New Age
Rolling Back the Clouds.
"We sailed wherever ships could sail,
We founded many a mighty state;
Pray God our greatness may not fail
Through craven fears of being great." -- Tennyson.
We have now gone through the story of the Tudor period. With all their faults, no one can deny that Henry VII., Henry VIII., and Elizabeth were great sovereigns; and that under them England became great and prosperous. Indeed, the hundred and eighteen years between the Battle of Bosworth Field and the death of Queen Elizabeth may truly be said to have been the most glorious years in the history of England. For it must be remembered that up to the end of the year 1602, England stood alone. Ireland was more of a weakness than a strength, and Scotland was still a foreign country, and very often an enemy's country. The glory of the Tudor period is the glory of England.
It must, indeed, have been a wonderful time to live in. It must have seemed as if all the world were changing, that all the old things, and all the old thoughts which men were accustomed to, were giving place to new things which no man up to that time had ever dreamed of. Let us try to picture to ourselves some of these great changes. Let us try to understand what were the new things that came into the world between the death of Richard III. and the death of Queen Elizabeth.
To begin with, it is true to say that the world itself was doubled for every Englishman. On the preceding page we see a map of the world as it was known to the poet Chaucer, to Henry V., the brave victor of Agincourt, or to the men and women of Henry VI.'s time. Mark how small is the part which stands out from the dark cloud. Now look at the map on p. 399, which shows the world as it was known to the Englishmen and Scotsmen who stood round King James I. at his coronation. Mark how the clouds are rolled back, how the light shines upon the great continent of America, upon the Cape of Good Hope the southern point of Africa, upon Japan in the far east, and even upon the coast of Australia in the distant southern sea.
Year after year during this wonderful hundred years, brave men set out upon new and adventurous journeys. Each year the news came back that in despite of stormy seas, of fierce enemies, of sickness, and of all the dangers which beset the traveller in unknown lands, some new point had been reached, some new way discovered.
Over and over again, some bold adventurer died before his work was done; but as fast as one brave sailor or soldier fell a victim to the dangers of the sea, to the spears and arrows of savage tribes, or to the deadly fevers and diseases which sprang from the swamps of North America, the jungles of India, and the African sands, another was found to take his place. Every country in Europe sent its bravest. Spain and Portugal led the way. The Dutch followed in their footsteps.
Later on, English seamen took the lead. In 1486, the year in which Lambert Simnel headed his rebellion against Henry VII, Bartholomew Diaz, a native of Portugal, sailing to the South, reached the Cape of Good Hope. Six years later (1492) a still greater man sailed across the Atlantic Ocean. It was in that year that Christopher Columbus, the Genoese, first sighted North America, and brought to Europe the tidings of that New World that has become so great and important in our own days.
In 1497 another Portuguese sailor, Vasco da Gama, passed the Cape of Good Hope and sailed into the Indian Ocean; and while he sailed to the East, others were following Columbus to the West. Let us look at the map of America. In North America we see the great gulf which runs far back into the country which is now called Canada. It is called the Gulf of St. Lawrence. In South America we see an enormous country bearing the name of Brazil. It was in the year 1500, in the reign of Henry VII., King of England, that Corte Real, a Portuguese, first sailed into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and Pedro Cabral discovered Brazil. At the same time (1496 to 1502) Sebastian Cabot, a Bristol man, whose father was a Venetian, discovered Newfoundland.
If we look at the map of India nowadays, we shall see that nearly all of it is marked as forming part of the British Empire, but there are still one or two places which belong to other countries. Among them is the small State of Goa. If we look under the name Goa in the map, we may see, written in small letters, the word "Portuguese."
It was in the first year of the reign of Henry VIII. that the Portuguese took Goa, which has belonged to them ever since.
Now let us turn back once more to the map of America. At the foot of the map the continent of South America comes down to a point. This point is called Patagonia, a country inhabited by men so tall that ancient travellers brought home stories of a land inhabited by giants. At the end of Patagonia there lies still farther to the south an island, which is called Tierra del Fuego, or, the Land of Fire. Between the mainland and the island there runs a narrow arm of the sea, or strait. It was through this strait that Ferdinand Magellan, the Portuguese, first sailed in the year 1520, and to this day the Strait of Magellan bears his name.
Passing through the straits, he kept on his way through unknown seas, until at last, in the year 1522, after a voyage of one thousand one hundred and fifty-four days, he came back to Europe, having sailed round the world. In 1521, the same year in which Henry VIII. won from the Pope his title of "Defender of the Faith," Hernan Cortez, a valiant Spaniard, conquered the rich country of Mexico. Eight years later, another great Spanish soldier, Francis Pizarro, invaded Peru.
Nor was it the soldiers, the sailors, and the adventurers only who helped to roll back the clouds from the unknown parts of the world. Missionaries soon began to go forth to the farthest ends of the world, longing to teach the heathen the story of Christ, and ready, if need be, to give up their lives for their religion. In 1542, the year in which poor Catharine Howard was beheaded, Francis Xavier, a French monk, landed in India, and began to teach and preach to the natives.
And while some went south, some went east, and some west; others set their faces towards the north and tried to find a way round the world through the ice and snow of the North Pole. In 1553, the first year of Queen Mary's reign, Richard Counsellor, a sea captain, of London, succeeded in passing round the North Cape at the top of Norway, and sailing into the White Sea in Russia, the sea on which Archangel now stands; while in 1576 another great English captain, Martin Frobisher, a Devonshire man, set out to find the NorthWest Passage, or passage round the North American continent, a road which many brave men have tried to find since his day.
England's Part in Rolling Back the Clouds. (Ch 48)
"Where shall the watchful sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the song on your bugles blown,
England --
Down the years on your bugles blown."
W. E. Henley: "Rhymes and Rhythms."
By this time, the great discoveries had, for the most part, been made, and now it was that Englishmen began in earnest to turn their attention to the new lands of which their fathers had not known the existence. Some went to find a new home, some to trade, some to win new dominions for their queen; others sailed away to hunt for adventures, fully prepared to fight, and sometimes to take what plunder they could from their enemies. Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, and Raleigh were the leaders of the English adventurers.
In 1577 Drake began his famous journey round the world. He fought the enemy wherever he found them. Every Spaniard was always an enemy, and it is to be feared that most of those who did not fall in with the wishes of Francis Drake were enemies too. In 1580 Drake returned to England rich with the spoil gathered during years of fighting and adventure, with waggon-loads of treasure, and a name that will live for ever in the story of English romance. The name of his ship was the "Golden Hind," and the story of those who sailed and fought on this famous vessel is so strange and wonderful, that no Englishmen ought ever to forget the name of Sir Francis Drake and the "Golden Hind."
Nor should the names of our English sea captains be forgotten in another great country in which English is spoken, namely The United States of America. It was Drake who first travelled through the most beautiful and the richest of all the States, the State of California. It was Humphrey Gilbert who first planted a colony of Englishmen in a new State, which he called, after the virgin Queen of England, Virginia. Our own countrymen in North America have therefore good reason to remember the "Sea-dogs" of Queen Elizabeth's time.
It was in 1583, in the twenty-fifth year of her reign, that Queen Elizabeth first declared herself to be the sovereign of the New Found Land, and the colony of Newfoundland is, to this day, proud of being the oldest colony in the British Empire. Two years later, John Davis, exploring in North America, passed through the strait which separates Greenland from North America, and gave it the name of Davis Strait.
And while the great English nations of America were thus growing up, the power of England in another part of the world was just beginning, like a little seed, to spring above the ground. It was in the last years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth (1600) that a Company was formed to trade in the East, and settlements, or Factories as they were called, were first set up on the coast of Malabar.
The Company was called the East India Company. At first it was weak, scarcely able to protect its life from the power of Spain, Portugal, and France. As year by year it grew in power, year by year the territory over which it ruled became larger, till at last, from a little seed, it grew to be a great tree which overshadowed the whole land; and first Spain, then Portugal, and, last of all, France, had to yield to the masters of India, the English East India Company.
At the present day the King of England rules over 288,000,000 subjects in the great peninsula of India.
Things "New" or "Old"? (Ch 48)
"Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here
The various offerings of the world appear." -- Pope.
We have seen how, during the hundred and eighteen years between the accession of Henry VII. and the death of Queen Elizabeth, the world seemed to be doubled in size for Englishmen. Lands which no Englishmen had ever heard of, or ever visited, were made known through the reports of travellers from all the nations of Europe. The great continent of America was discovered, new lands in Africa and Asia became known to the people of Europe, while even the far-off coast of Australia was for the first time marked upon our maps.
But Englishmen who stayed at home soon began to know something more about the new countries than even the travellers who returned safely from their distant shores could tell them. It was a strange and wonderful thing for a citizen of London, or for some country squire in Yorkshire or Devonshire, to hear that Drake had crossed the Atlantic and fought fierce battles with strange enemies, or to gather from big books printed in Holland that Dutch sailors had found lands bright with flowers and rich with treasure in the distant seas beyond India.
These accounts of battles and adventures thousands of miles from home, the news of which only reached Europe years after they had taken place, must have seemed almost like fairy tales to most Englishmen. But it was not till they began to see with their own eyes the treasures which these newly-discovered lands afforded, that they began to understand what a difference the voyages of these bold sailors were going to make to the Old Country. Not only did the world itself seem to have doubled, but the things in it seemed to have doubled also. It is strange to think how many things there are which we use every day, and which we are accustomed to look upon as things which we could not possibly get on without, which first became known in England during the Tudor period.
Here is a table piled up with objects which are very well known to us all. Let us see what they are. First we have a plate of potatoes, the commonest of our vegetables.
We are not all smokers, but there are very few of us who are not familiar with the look of the pipes, cigars, and tobacco which lie on the table.
The potato is not the only common vegetable which we perceive. There is a bundle of asparagus, a fine head of cauliflower, a couple of artichokes; there are two fruits which we all know very well, the orange, of which so many millions are sold in shops and in the streets, and the cherry, whose red and white bunches we can see in summer-time in almost any garden throughout the length and breadth of England. And lastly, there is a pot of those bright tulips which make our spring gardens so gay. What are we to call all these things? Are we to speak of them as "things new" or "things old"? Certainly, we who live in the reign of King Edward VII. can speak of them as things which are old enough to go back far beyond the memory of anyone who is now living.
Who would think it possible that English people, and more especially Irish people, could ever get on without potatoes? How would our smokers get on without their pipe or their cigar? And yet we have only to go back to the days of Queen Elizabeth to come to a time when all the things which are represented in the picture were things which were very new, and which the English people were beginning to use for the first time in English history.
It was Sir Walter Raleigh who brought the potato and tobacco from North America in the year 1592. It seems strange that the world ever got on without potatoes and tobacco. The crop of potatoes in the United Kingdom for a single year was no less than 5,633,000 tons, and 3,000,000 tons were brought into the country from abroad. In the same period a tax was paid on no less than 63,765,000 pounds of tobacco; and yet before the reign of Queen Elizabeth the people of England and Ireland did not know the taste of a potato, and had never even heard of smoking tobacco. It was in the year 1548 -- the year in which the Reformation began in England -- that orange trees were first brought into Portugal from China; and from Portugal the trees spread through Spain, France, and Italy.
The year (1540) in which Thomas Cromwell had his head cut off, and in which Henry VIII. married Catharine Howard, was the year in which cherry trees were first brought over from Holland and planted in England; and some forty years later (1578) tulip bulbs were brought over from the same country, and planted in English gardens. The artichoke we also owe to the Dutch. The asparagus and cauliflower came to us in the last year of Queen Elizabeth's reign; the former from Asia, and the latter from the island of Cyprus.
It was not till after the death of Queen Elizabeth that we first hear of two other articles being brought into England, which are perhaps even more familiar to us than potatoes and tobacco. Queen Elizabeth had neither tea nor coffee for her breakfast, and for the best reason. Tea and coffee were not known in England till more than fifty years after her death; and her Majesty, and those of her Majesty's subjects who could afford it, were obliged to put up with a flagon of ale at breakfast if they did not care to drink cold water.
Chapter 49. Literature and Art in the Tudor Period.
The Open Bible.
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." -- Psalm cxix. 105.
Every man and woman in the world, rich or poor, must eat and drink; and so, perhaps, in one sense it may be said, that more people are interested in eating and drinking than in anything else. It is therefore fair to speak about potatoes, cherries, and so on, before we come to the subject of books, of pictures, or other matters, which, though they interest many people, do not interest all the world.
But it would be a very poor sort of a life which was made up only of eating and drinking, smoking and sleeping; and if the "hundred years of the Tudor period" had added nothing to our treasures except a few luxuries for the larder or the table, it would not be necessary for us to study it with great care, or to be particularly thankful to our forefathers who lived under Henry VIII. or Queen Elizabeth.
But happily there are very few people in England, whether they be young or old, rich or poor, who do not give up some of their time to books, and who have not learnt something through what is written in books. There are few who at one time or another in their lives have not seen or admired some beautiful picture, or some stately building, or who have not read or heard some poem which has pleased or moved them.
In the next few pages we shall see some pictures which will help to remind us that we who live in England now, who are fond of reading, who love beautiful pictures, and who care for beautiful poetry, owe a great deal to those who lived in the Tudor period. Nay more, we shall learn that many Englishmen who read little, not at all, and who do not know a line of poetry, are still, without themselves being aware of it, using words and uttering thoughts which have as certainly come down to them from the days of Henry or Elizabeth as have the potatoes and tobacco which Raleigh discovered, and with which they are so familiar.
Here is one of these pictures which help to tell this story. What does the picture show? Half a dozen books upon a table, that is all. Yes, but what are these books? Let us see if we can read their titles. There is one book whose name is familiar to all. It is the Bible, and note that it is lying open for every man to read. It is to the reign of King Henry VIII. that we owe the open Bible. As far back as the time of Richard II., Wycliffe had translated the Bible, but very few copies of the book had been made, and the priests had forbidden men to read the Bible in the English tongue. In 1526, three years before the fall of Wolsey, William Tyndall, a scholar of Oxford, translated the New Testament into English, and had it printed abroad. Some copies were brought over to England, but they were burnt by order of the bishops. Four years later Tyndall translated a great part of the Old Testament, but he was not allowed to finish his work, for he was thrown into prison at Antwerp, in Belgium, and was there put to death by the Emperor Charles V. (1536).
Luckily another Englishman had been at work on the same task as Tyndall. Miles Coverdale brought out a translation of the Bible the year before Tyndall's death. It was first printed abroad, and then in England. Two years after it came out King Henry VIII. gave permission for the book to be freely printed and read, and in that year (1537) it first became lawful for Englishmen to read the Bible in English. Three years later a royal order was made that the English Bible should be read in all the churches throughout the land, * and though attempts were made from time to time to stop the reading of the book; from that time to this not a day has passed on which the Bible, written in a language which every Englishman can understand, has not been read aloud in some English church.
[* The Bible which was ordered to be read in all churches was called "Cranmer's Bible," and had been prepared under the direction of Archbishop Cranmer.]
The Bible of Henry VIII.'s time was not exactly the same as that which we use now. The one which is generally used at the present time is that which was translated in the time of James I, who came to the throne on the death of Queen Elizabeth, just after the Tudor period. But the great thing we have to remember is that it was in the time of Henry VIII. that Englishmen were first freely allowed to read the Bible in their own tongue.
Now let us look at some of the other books upon the table in the picture. There is a small book standing up near the Bible. On it are written the words "Common Prayer." This is the Prayer Book, or Book of Common Prayer, which is used by a great number of people at the present day. The Book of Common Prayer comes to us, like the open Bible, from the Tudor period. The first Prayer Book was printed in the time of Edward VI. (1549).
A second copy, in which some things had been altered came out three years later. The Prayer Book of Edward VI. is not exactly the same as that which is used now, for a hundred years later, in the reign of Charles II. (1662), some further changes were made, and it is the book as it was altered in Charles II.'s time which is now used. But it is true to say that the English Prayer Book really comes from the time of Edward VI.
It must not be supposed, however, that what is in the Prayer Book was written for the first time in Edward VI.'s day, nor must we imagine that the English people had been without a Prayer Book up to that time. But the Prayer Book which English people had used had been written in Latin, and a great part of this Latin book was translated into English by those whom Edward VI. appointed to do the work.
The Psalms of David were translated from Latin into English, and many of the prayers which are to be found in the Prayer Book are translated from Latin prayers which had been used by Christians in all countries and in all ages, and which are still used by them throughout the world. It is very fortunate for us that these things were translated from Latin into English in the Tudor period, for there can be no doubt that those who did the work at that time were able to write simple and beautiful English.
Shakespeare. (Ch 49)
"Soul of the age!
Th' applause! delight! the wonder of our stage!
My Shakespeare rise!
******
Thou art a monument, without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and praise to give."
-- Ben Jonson: "To the Memory of Shakespeare."
Now look at the name on the back of the large thick book. It is a name which everybody knows. It is the single word Shakespeare. Shakespeare, one of the greatest writers that ever lived, was born and wrote during the Tudor period. Wherever the English language is spoken, and English books are read, the name and the writings of William Shakespeare are known. It is strange to think that though the name and the writings of William Shakespeare are familiar to all the world, we really know very little about the great writer himself. There are some things, however, which we do know, and which must be told here.
William Shakespeare was born in the year 1564, at Stratford-upon-Avon, in Warwickshire. He was the son of John and Mary Shakespeare. It is not known exactly what was the occupation of his father, but it is plain that he held a good position among his fellow-townsmen, for at various times he was appointed Alderman and High Bailiff of Stratford. Little is known of William Shakespeare himself. It is probable that he was sent to school at the Stratford Grammar School. It is clear that he must have received a good education, and, like most boys of the time, he doubtless acquired some knowledge of Latin. In 1582, in his nineteenth year, he married Anne, daughter of John Hathaway, living at Shottery, a village within a mile of Stratford.
Five years after his marriage he left Stratford for London. It appears that all this time he was in difficulties for want of money, and many stories are told of the shifts to which the great poet was put to earn a living. According to one account he picked up a few pence by holding the horses at the theatre door, and is even said to have been a call-boy, whose duty it was to inform the actors when it was their turn to go out on the stage. Whatever be doubtful, it is, however, certain that between 1588 and 1589 he commenced writing his great plays, the first being Love's Labour's Lost.
This was followed by Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, and many others. Hamlet appeared in 1602, when Shakespeare was thirty-eight years old. The last play is said to have been The Tempest, written in 1610, when James I. was king.
Of the poet's later life we know some facts with certainty. In 1597, at the age of thirty-three, he returned to Stratford and bought the principal house there, which he called "New Place." At New Place he lived until his death in 1616. He was buried in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford, where his monument is still to be seen. Although Shakespeare had three children, his family soon died out, and none of his descendants are living at the present day.
This is, indeed, but a short account of the life of a very great man. But if we do not know much about Shakespeare himself, it will be only our own fault if we do not know a great deal about the wonderful plays which he wrote, Hamlet, Henry V., Julius Caesar, Macbeth, Othello, and many others. It is no use talking much about these plays here; all English men and English women ought to read them. But there are one or two things about them which should be said even in a short history of England such as this.
It is probably true that ten Englishmen use the words of Shakespeare for every one who has read his plays. This may seem strange at first, but the fact is easily explained. The plays of Shakespeare have been read, repeated, or acted by so many millions of English-speaking people since the time when they were written, that the very phrases which they contain have become part of the English language. Shakespeare said so many things well, and put so many good thoughts into such good words, that those who came after him have found no better way of saying the same things, and have been content to use just the words which Shakespeare himself used.
Scarcely a day passes without our using some phrase or sentence taken from Shakespeare, and very often we do not know that the words which we use have really come to us from the great poet of Queen Elizabeth's time.
There is only one book which English people quote from more often than from Shakespeare, and that is The Bible; and these two books, the Bible and Shakespeare, have helped to make it certain that as long as the English language is spoken, the words and expressions of Queen Elizabeth's time will not be forgotten.
[The authorised version of the Bible was first printed in 1611, eight years after the death of Queen Elizabeth, but the language is the language of the last half of the Tudor period.]
Here are some common phrases of our English speech which we owe to William Shakespeare. Some of them, perhaps, were phrases which were known before Shakespeare's time, but it is because Shakespeare used them, and put them into his plays, that they have now become part of the everyday language of Englishmen. "What's in a name?" "Conscience makes cowards of us all," "All that glitters is not gold" "Trifles light as air" "A pound of flesh" "To be or not to be?" "A sea of troubles" "Patience on a monument" "Love's labour lost" "Much ado about nothing" "Sweet are the uses of adversity," and many others.
And in the same way many words, thoughts, and sentences out of the Bible have become part of the common speech of all Englishmen, even of those who never read the Bible. For instance: "The labourer is worthy of his hire" "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" "Darkness which may be felt" "Making bricks without straw" "Spare the rod and spoil the child" "Job's comforter" "The patience of Job" "Casting pearls before swine" "To escape by the skin of the teeth" "A good Samaritan" "The Prodigal Son" "The widow's mite" and "A talent."
"Nowhere." (Ch 49)
"For I dipped into the future, far as human eye can see,
Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be." -- Tennyson: "Locksley Hall"
We have not come to the end of the books on the table in our picture. One of them is called The Faerie Queene. "The Faerie Queene" is a very famous English poem. It was written by Edmund Spenser (b. 1553, d. 1599), who wrote in the time of Queen Elizabeth. The poem is in twenty-four chapters or "cantos." It describes the adventures of a brave knight called the "Red Cross Knight," and of a beautiful maiden called "Una." The poem is really an allegory -- that is to say, a story which is not only interesting in itself, but which has a hidden meaning in it.
The story of the "Red Cross Knight" and Una is intended to teach us to love truth and goodness, and to hate falsehood and evil. Many of those who have not read Spenser's "Faerie Queene," have read the Pilgrim's Progress. The "Pilgrim's Progress" is also an allegory, and those who have read it will easily understand what is meant by the word.
Then there is another small book on the table called "Bacon's Essays." These are the writings of the famous Francis Bacon (b. 1561, d. 1626), who is often called Lord Bacon. [Francis Bacon's real title was "Baron Verulam, Viscount St. Albans."]
These Essays are very celebrated. In the first place, because Francis Bacon, who wrote them, was one of the greatest and cleverest men of his time, and, indeed, one of the cleverest Englishmen who ever lived. In the second place, the essays are celebrated because they are so well written, and contain so much wisdom. The essays are short; each is about a different subject. One is an essay on "Truth," another on "Friendship," a third on "Gardens," and so on. They were first written in Latin, but were afterwards re-written by Bacon himself in English. The English in which they are written is wonderfully clear and good.
The only book we have not yet noticed is the one which bears the name "Utopia" (1526). Utopia was a very famous book at the time it was written. The writer was Sir Thomas More (b. 1480, d. 1535), of whom we read in the story of the Reformation. The name "Utopia" is really made up of two Greek words which mean "Nowhere," and the book is an account of a country which did not really exist, but which Sir Thomas More pictured to himself as what he would like England to be.
The chief thing to remember about the "Utopia" is, that the people who were supposed to live in this land of "Nowhere" three hundred years ago, enjoyed many things which were really unknown in any country before the days in which we now live, and some things which even we should like to have, but have not yet got. In "Nowhere" there was a nine hours' day; no one was allowed to work more than nine hours out of the twenty-four. It is pleasant to think that we in England have at last got as far as this, and in most mills and factories the hours of work are nine hours only, and already there are many places in which nine hours have been shortened to eight.
In "Nowhere," every child had to go to school, and all the teaching was free -- the parents had to pay no school fees. It was not till the year 1870 that a law was made giving power to compel all children to go to school, and it was not till the year 1891 that another law was made which gave to every parent the right to send his children to school and to have them taught without paying any school fees. So it has taken us three hundred years to get some of the good things which were enjoyed by the people of "Nowhere."
Unfortunately, we are still behind the people of Utopia in some matters. In Utopia, everyone cared for his neighbour's good, everyone had a clean and healthy house to live in, no one was overworked. It would be a good thing if we could truly say that, in these and many other respects, England in our own day was as happy and well-off as Sir Thomas More's country of Utopia.
Now we have come to the end of the books which stand upon the table, but it must not be supposed that these are all the great and famous books which were written in the Tudor period. There are many other writers, about whom there is not room to tell. There were Massinger (b. 1583, d. 1640) and Ford (b. 1586, d. 1639), writers of plays, Ben Jonson (b. 1574, d. 1637), Poet Laureate -- a really great poet; there were Beaumont (b. 1584, d. 1616) and Fletcher (b. 1576, d. 1625), also very famous play-writers. The works of all these writers have come down to us, and there is much in them which is of great interest and beauty. Perhaps if they had lived at another time we should have known and admired their works even more than we do, but the wonderful genius of Shakespeare shines so brightly that we have come to take less notice of the other play-writers who lived and wrote in his day. Still, if we want to have a real knowledge of the writers of the Tudor period, we must not forget Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger and Ford, or, least of all, Ben Jonson -- "Rare Ben Jonson" as he has been called.
But enough has been said in this chapter to show that the days of Henry, Edward, and Elizabeth were very rich in great writers, and that some of the most famous books in the English language have come down to us from their times.
Art in the Tudor Period. (Ch 49)
"A famous age in modern times for learning in every kind, wherein painting was revived, and poetry flourished, and the Greek language was restored." -- Dryden: Preface to "Juvenal."
At page 291 there is a picture of King Henry VIII., and if we turn back to what is said about that picture we shall read that the art of painting portraits began to be practised with great skill and success about King Henry's time.
But it was not only the painting of portraits, but the painting of other pictures, which improved during these years. Some of the most famous painters in the world lived during the Tudor period. The most famous of them were not Englishmen, but some of them lived and painted in England. Many of the pictures which they painted are still to be seen in England, and all their most famous pictures have been copied so often that we in England feel familiar with them although we may never have seen the pictures themselves.
For these reasons it would not be right in a history of England to leave out all account of the great artists of other countries. Besides, we should not fully understand how wonderful a time this Tudor period was, if we were not told that it was celebrated, not only for its great sovereigns and statesmen, its great sailors and explorers, its great preachers and great writers, but also for its great painters. The picture of Henry VIII. at page 291 is copied from a painting by Hans Holbein (b. 1494, d. 1543), who was born in Germany, but who lived for many years of his life in England. His paintings are very famous.
Here is a copy of another picture; very likely many of those who read this book will have seen it before. The picture which is here copied was painted by a wonderful Italian artist, whom many people believe to be the greatest painter that ever lived. His name was Raphael Sanzio d'Urbino (b. 1483, d. 1520). Urbino was a small town near Florence at which Raphael was born. [Portrait of Raphael by Himself.]
The picture has a double interest. In the first place, it is interesting because of its beauty, and because of the fact that it was painted by Raphael about whom we are reading. In the second place, it is of interest because it is a picture of Raphael himself, which he must have drawn from his own reflection in the looking-glass.
There were many other famous painters who lived during the Tudor period, some of whose pictures we can see at this day in the National Gallery in London, or in other great collections of pictures in England and abroad. Among them are Albrecht Durer (b. 1471, d. 1528), a great German painter and engraver, and Correggio (b. 1494, d. 1534) and Titian (b. 1477, d. I 576), great Italian painters. The names of others will be found in the list of famous persons given in this book. On page 418 there is one more picture of a great work of art a statue and not a painting. It is a copy of a statue by Michael Angelo (b. 1474, d. 1564), a native of Florence. Michael Angelo was one of the greatest painters and sculptors that ever lived, and besides being a sculptor and a painter, he was a poet and a musician. The statue, of which we see the picture, is part of a great monument which was carved by Michael Angelo over the tomb of Lorenzo de Medici, the famous Prince of Florence. [Portion of the Tomb of Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, in the Medicis Chapel, Florence.]
There is a story about Michael Angelo which will help us to understand how great an artist he was. When he was a boy of fourteen years old he was sent to the house of a very famous painter to learn his art. But so clever was the pupil, that instead of having to pay anything to his teachers, he received from them payment in return for the wonderful work he did.
Very little has been told about these great artists in this book, but any of us who care for art, for drawing, for painting, for beautiful pictures and beautiful sculptures, will be certain at one time or another to see and admire paintings or statues by some of them. It will then be useful and pleasant to know something about the time in which these artists lived, and to remember when it was that they did their work. Some of the best pictures which were painted during the Tudor period can be seen without any payment in the great collection of pictures in the National Gallery in London.
Chapter 50. Parliament -- Dress -- Dwellings -- Schools -- The Calendar
Parliament in Tudor Times.
"Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel."
"All things by turn and nothing long."
The history of Parliament during the Tudor period is not a very bright one. Parliament was called together several times, but it cannot be said that it did much, or that what it did was of much good to the country, or brought much credit to itself.
The Parliaments of Edward IV. and Richard III. were much braver and more outspoken than those of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, and after Elizabeth's death Parliament soon became the strongest power in the land. But the Tudor kings and queens were nearly always masters of the House of Commons, and made its members do very much what they commanded them to do. Whenever the king or queen wished to put some great man to death, Parliament was always ready to pass a Bill of Attainder, or to declare that the person who had to be got rid of was guilty of High Treason. Whichever religion happened to be the stronger, it was always easy to get a Parliament to declare that religion to be the only right and true one.
There was, however, one matter on which even the Tudor Parliaments were very determined; and that was the right to vote, or refuse to vote, money. When Wolsey, at the time of his greatest power, came down to the House of Commons and requested the House to vote £800,000, the members sat silent. Wolsey, angry and astonished that they should dare to treat him thus, called on a member by name. The member bowed, said nothing, and sat down again.
The cardinal could bear the silence no longer. He told them that he came on a message from the king, and that he expected an answer. At last, Sir Thomas More, who was the Speaker, kneeling on one knee, replied "that the House was indeed abashed at the presence of so great a man, but that by their ancient rights they were not bound to give an answer, and that they would talk over the matter when the cardinal had gone." The proud cardinal left them in anger.
A second time he came back and asked them for the vote, and again they refused to speak of the matter while he was there. At length, after a long debate, the House decided to vote, not the sum of £800,000 which the king had asked, but a sum less than half that amount, and payment of this was to be spread over four years. In this way King Henry got a lesson which he did not forget. He found that, when it came to a question of money, Parliament would refuse to obey even his orders. He was very careful in the future not to summon a Parliament oftener than he could help, and he did his best to get money in any way rather than by a vote of the House of Commons.
On one other occasion did Parliament show a spirit of independence, or rather one member was found ready to do so. This was in the time of Queen Elizabeth, when Peter Wentworth, a Cornish member, spoke out pretty plainly about the queen's interference with the House of Commons. He declared that the queen had no right to dictate to the House of Commons. He said so in a speech which got him into great trouble. He was put into prison, a Committee of Members was appointed to examine him, and he was finally sent to the Tower. After a month the queen ordered that he should be released, and he was allowed to go back to the House of Commons, where he was compelled to go down on his knees and listen to a lecture from the Speaker.
This, however, did not cure Wentworth of his plain speaking, and on two other occasions he was imprisoned for the same offence -- that of speaking his opinion clearly about the queen and her policy, and denying her right to interfere with the House of Commons. It was well that there was one courageous man in the Parliament of Queen Elizabeth who was ready to risk his own comfort and his own life for the independence of Parliament. But until the strong hand of the Tudor kings and queens was removed, the House of Commons was unable to play a very important part in the affairs of the country. It may, perhaps, be said with truth that the country did not get on very badly, although Parliament was not so powerful as it became afterwards in the reign of the Stuart kings who succeeded the Tudors. It is lucky that though Parliament did so little that was good or useful during all this time, the country grew rich and strong and became respected abroad with very little help from Parliament.
But though the House of Commons did now and then stand firm when it was asked to pay money, it really did very little more than what the king or queen told it to do. It must not be forgotten that the Tudor kings, Henry VII. and Henry VIII., were much richer than the Kings of England who had gone before them. They kept a great deal of the money taken from the great nobles and the monasteries, and thus they were able to spend large sums without having to ask Parliament to vote taxes.
Queen Elizabeth, when she wanted money, found another plan of getting it. She sold to rich people the right to make or to sell all sorts of different things which were much in use at the time. This right to make or to sell a particular thing was called a "Monopoly." It is wonderful what a number of these monopolies there were. In return for large sums of money, Elizabeth gave to different people the sole right to sell salt, currants, iron, gunpowder, vinegar, brandy (or, as it was then called, Aqua Vita), Latin grammars, paper, starch, and many other things.
Here are some lines which are supposed to give an account of a conversation between two citizens of London about these monopolies. We see that "monopolies" made a real difference to those who had to wear dirty linen and dear boots because of them.
THIRD CITIZEN.
"There is some hope we shall have justice now.
You see how brown this band is; well, my wife
Says that the patent makes all soap so dear
She cannot wash my linen."
FIRST CITIZEN.
"Ay, and on leather
There's a monopoly! These shoes of mine
Cost half a crown too much, and all to feed
Some idle courtier." -- Sterling: "Strafford."
There was one thing which took place in the reign of Henry VII. which was of great importance both to England and to Ireland, a mention of which must not be left out here. This was the passing of "Poynings' Act." Poynings' Act was an Act passed by the Parliament of Ireland in the year 1494, at a time when Sir Edward Poynings was Lord-Deputy or Governor of Ireland, and was named after him.
By this Act it was declared that from that time forward all Acts of Parliament passed by the Parliament of England before the year 1494 should have force and be obeyed in Ireland. It further declared that no Parliament should be held in Ireland without the consent of the King of England, and that if an Irish Parliament did pass laws, the King of England might "disallow," or refuse to assent to these laws. If the King of England disallowed an Act passed by the Irish Parliament, the Act had no effect, and no one was bound to obey it.
Thus the Parliament of England, though it did not get power to make laws for Ireland, did get the power to prevent any laws being made in Ireland of which the King of England and his ministers did not approve.
Poynings' Act lasted for three hundred years. It was repealed in the year 1782, in the reign of George III., and for a short time Ireland had a separate Parliament which could make laws which could not be disallowed in the way laid down in Poynings' Act. After the year 1800, the separate Irish Parliament was done away with, and Irish members were sent over to sit in the Parliament of the United Kingdom at Westminster.
Dresses and Houses. (Ch 50)
"I'll be at charge for a looking-glass,
And entertain a score or two of tailors,
To study fashions to adorn my body.
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with some little cost."
-- Shakespeare: "Richard III."
It was the fashion in the Tudor times to spend a great deal of money on dress. Both men and women decked themselves in silks and velvets, and the pictures of the time give us some notion of the gorgeous dresses which were worn. Here is an account of the dress worn by the admiral who went to welcome Anne of Cleves at Calais. It reminds one of the old nursery rhyme of the famous ship, in which
"The captain wore a chain of gold
Round about his neck."
"And so marching towards Calais, a mile and more from the town, met her Grace the Karl of Southampton, Great Admiral of England, and apparelled in a coat of purple velvet, cut on cloth of gold, and tied with great eglets [tassels] and trefoils of gold, to the number of CCC, and baldrick-wise [like a belt] he wore a chain, at the which did hang a whistle of gold, set with rich stones of great value. And in this company XXX gentlemen of the King's household, very richly apparelled with great massive chains, and in especial, Sir Francis Bryan and Sir Thomas Seymour's chains were of great value and strange fashion. Beside this, the Lord Admiral had a great number of gentlemen in blue velvet and crimson satin, and his yeomen damask of the same pattern, and the mariners of his ship in satin of Bruges, both coats and slops [breeches] of the same colour; which Lord Admiral, with low obeisance welcomed her, and so brought her into Calais by the Lantern Gate, where the ships lay in the haven garnished with their banners, pencells, [pennants] and flags pleasantly to behold."
The dress of the ladies was as fine as that of the men. Queen Elizabeth set the example of wearing the enormous starched ruffs, or collars, which are to be seen in nearly all the pictures of this time. So great were the sums spent upon dress, that from time to time the king or the queen issued orders forbidding people to spend more than a certain amount of money upon their dress and adornments. But these laws did not do much to prevent people from spending their money. Fashions were then, as they are now, too strong for the law.
If we want to know the kind of dress which was worn by men who were not very rich, we have only to look at the Bluecoat Boys, or scholars of Christ's Hospital, in London, who still wear the long blue coat, knee breeches and yellow stockings which were worn by boys at the school when it was founded in 1553.
But although the dresses of the time were rich and costly, some of the commonest articles which we wear now were either unknown or were known for the first time in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The queen was the first among her people to wear silk stockings, a pair of which was presented to her as a great treasure.
While the dresses which people wore became richer and more splendid than before, the houses in which the richer part of the population lived became more spacious, more comfortable, and more durable than ever before. It is the custom to speak of the Tudor or Elizabethan style of architecture, by which is meant the style in which houses and churches were built during the time of the Tudors.
Above we have pictures of two windows. One of them is what is called a Pointed window. All the arches in it go up to a point. It was built a long time before the Tudor period. The other was built in the time of Queen Elizabeth. In it the upright shaft, or mullion, of the window goes straight up to the top without forming an arch. This style of building a window is called the Perpendicular style, because the mullions of the windows are "perpendicular." This style was adopted soon after the "Black Death," at the beginning of the fifteenth century, perhaps because it was cheaper to build in it than in the older "Pointed style." Some of the most famous buildings in England built in Tudor times, and in the Perpendicular style, are the chapel of King's College, Cambridge, and Hatfield House, the residence of the Marquess of Salisbury in Hertfordshire.
Colleges and Schools. (Ch 50)
"Most Merciful God and Loving Father, we give Thee most humble and hearty thanks for Thy great bounty bestowed upon us of this House, by its especial benefactors . . . humbly beseeching Thee so to bless our honest endeavours that the Church and Commonwealth of this land may be bettered by our studies, and that we ourselves may finally be made partakers of everlasting happiness." -- From the Form of Thanksgiving for Founders and Benefactors in one of the Colleges in the University of Oxford.
There is no time in England when more was done for education than the Tudor period. We have already seen how Cardinal Wolsey founded the great college of Christ Church in the University of Oxford (1546), and between the years 1485 and 1603, no fewer than thirteen other colleges were founded at Oxford and Cambridge.
Many of our most famous public schools also date from this time. Winchester, it is true, is older, for it was founded by William of Wykeham in the year 1387. Eton, too, which was founded from Winchester, dates from the time of Henry VI. (1440), but Harrow (1571), Rugby (1567), Shrewsbury (1551), St. Paul's (1509), Merchant Taylors' (1561), Westminster (1560), Christ's Hospital (1553), are all great public schools which began their history in the days of the Tudors.
And all over the country there are ancient Grammar Schools which are still doing good and noble work, which were founded under Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary or Elizabeth.
If we were to give the list of all the schools which date from the Tudor period, we should have to print hundreds of names and to mention schools in every county of England. Certainly every scholar ought to be grateful to the Tudor sovereigns for the help they have given to so many generations of English boys.
Unfortunately, in those days not much trouble was taken to start schools for girls. Thus it happened that the boys got the whole of the benefit. Now, however, some of the money which was left to support the boys' schools is very wisely being used to found good schools for girls also, and so English girls will some day, perhaps, have as much reason to be grateful to Queen Bess and her brother, King Edward, as English boys.
Old Style and New Style, or the Change in the Calendar. (Ch 50)
"See the minutes, how they run;
How many make the hour full complete,
How many hours bring about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live."
-- Shakespeare: "Henry VI.," Part 3.
One very interesting thing happened during Elizabeth's reign which must be mentioned by itself, because it has nothing to do with any of the matters about which we have been reading. It is a thing which ought to interest us now, because it really makes a difference to us who live in the present day. It is the great change in the Calendar made by Pope Gregory XIII. in the year 1582. Everybody knows that there are 365 days in a year, but everybody does not know that besides the 365 days, there are also in every year 5 hours, 48 minutes, and 49 seconds; that is to say, that the earth takes 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, 49 seconds to go round the sun.
Before the time of Gregory it was quite well-known that the year was made up of 365 days and something over, but there had been a mistake in reckoning up the exact amount left over. The length of the year had been reckoned as 365 days, 6 hours. Now between 365 days, 6 hours, which was the wrong time, and 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, 49 seconds, which was the right time, there was little difference -- only 11 minutes and 11 seconds.
But if we multiply 11 minutes and 11 seconds several hundred times, we get a big figure in the course of many years; and thus it had come about that the calendar had got seriously "out of order." The 24th of June was no longer the real Midsummer Day, and the days did not really begin to get longer after the 21st of December, as they ought to have done. The mistake in Gregory's time had grown to as much as ten days.
It was high time, therefore, that this mistake should be corrected, and Gregory did a very wise thing when he issued an order commanding that every country should drop ten days out of its reckoning of the year, and begin to date everything ten days later. The Roman Catholic countries which obeyed the Pope did what they were commanded, and took up the new way of reckoning the year. This new way was called the New Style.
England, and some other countries which were at that time unfriendly to the Pope, refused to make the change; and it was not till a hundred and seventy years later, in the year 1751, and in the reign of King George II., that the change was made in England. Thus it happened that for a long time the different countries of Europe kept their calendars in different ways; some, such as England, kept to the Old Style, which was wrong; while others, such as Italy, France, and Spain, accepted the New Style, which was right. For this reason we often find in old books dates given in both the old and the new styles, thus: 3rd September, O.S., 14th September, N.S., 1740. * Under the Old Style the year began on the 25th of March, while under the New Style it commences on the 1st of January. This is why, in some English Histories, we find dates given thus, "March 23rd, 1630/31."
[The difference of the time in Gregory's alteration in the Calendar was ten days; at the time of the alteration in England it had increased to eleven days.]
In Russia at the present day the New Style has not been accepted. There are still some things in England to remind us of the Old-Style calendar. Some people still make a cake for Twelfth Night that is to say, the 6th of January. Twelfth Day is really only the old Christmas Day, or 25th of December.
PART FIVE. THE STUARTS. 1603-1714.
Note.
The hundred and eleven years which followed the death of Queen Elizabeth contain the Stuart period of our history, during which the six sovereigns of the House of Stuart reigned over Great Britain. The period is remarkable as one of great political conflicts, during which the foundations of the Constitutional Monarchy of the United Kingdom were laid.
The Tudor sovereigns had attempted to rule without the aid of Parliament, and they had been in a large measure successful. The power of the Crown in the time of Henry VIII., and of Elizabeth, was immense; that of Parliament was insignificant. Under the Stuarts a great change took place. Weak sovereigns like James I. and Charles I. were unable to follow in the footsteps of Henry and Elizabeth, and they soon found themselves face to face with the opposition of the House of Commons, which grew as the king showed an ever increasing disregard for its powers and its privileges. In the struggle which followed, the Crown was for a moment swept away, and the Commons appeared to be absolutely triumphant. But, as has so often happened, the English people, though ready to accept changes, were not willing that those changes should be very great, or hastily made. The Crown was restored, the king reigned again, but William and Mary, and Anne -- the last of the Stuart sovereigns -- reigned with powers far more limited than those which were exercised by Elizabeth and claimed by Charles I.
Government by the people through Parliament was not yet secured, but the right of Parliament, and especially of the House of Commons, to take a direct part in the government of the country was acknowledged. It is of this great political struggle between Crown and Parliament, with all its moving and exciting incidents, that we are now to read the story.
Chapter 51. James Stuart, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland. 1603-1625.
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Principal events during the reign of James I: |
How a Stuart became King of England. (Ch 51)
"All the blue bonnets are over the Border."
In the preceding chapters we have read the story of the Tudor Period -- the reigns of Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth. We now come to what is known as the Stuart Period.
The Stuart Period occupies 111 years. It began in 1603, when James I. of England came to the throne, and ended in 1714 at the death of Queen Anne. The first question that naturally comes to our minds is, "Why are these 111 years called the Stuart Period?" In order to get an answer to this question we must carry our minds back as far as the reign of Henry VII., the first of the Tudors.
We read in the last Part how Margaret Tudor, daughter of Henry VII. and sister of Henry VIII., married James IV., King of Scotland, in the year 1502. James IV. (who was killed at the battle of Flodden Field) and Margaret had a son, who became James V. of Scotland. James V. had a daughter, whose name is very well known to all who have read the history of England.
This daughter was Mary, Queen of Scots, who was beheaded, by order of Queen Elizabeth, at Fotheringay Castle in the year 1587. Mary, Queen of Scots was married three times. Her second husband was Henry Darnley, who was killed by an explosion of gunpowder at Kirk-o'-fields, Edinburgh. The son of Henry Darnley and Mary, Queen of Scots was called James, and became King of Scotland under the title of James VI. Now James VI., King of Scotland, bore for his family-name the name of Stuart. The sovereigns of Scotland had belonged to the Stuart family ever since the time of Robert Stuart (1371).
We have now learnt that James VI. of Scotland was a Stuart, and that he was descended from Margaret Tudor. We have still to learn how it was that the name of Stuart came to be as well known in the history of England as it had been hitherto in the history of Scotland. If we turn back to the reign of Henry VII., we shall find an account of the marriage between Margaret Tudor and James IV. of Scotland, and we shall read the following passage: "When Margaret and James were married, some of Henry VII.'s friends said to him: 'What will happen if your sons die, or if they have no children? Will not the children of the King and Queen of Scotland have a right to the throne of England?'" Those who asked this question did not speak without good reason, for what they feared might happen did actually take place.
Henry VII.'s son, Henry VIII., came to the throne on the death of his father, and Henry VIII.'s three children -- Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth -- all reigned in England, but neither Edward, nor Mary, nor Elizabeth left any children; and thus it came about that on the death of Queen Elizabeth in 1603, the next heir to the crown of England was James Stuart, King of Scotland, great-grandchild of Margaret Tudor. There was no doubt at all about James being the right heir; and as soon as Elizabeth was dead, everyone in England at once looked to James as their new king.
But when he became King of England James did not cease to be King of Scotland. He was king of the two countries at the same time, and was known across the Border as James VI., King of Scotland, and on the English side of the Border as James I., King of England. It is the story of what took place during the reign of James Stuart, and of his children and grandchildren, which has now to be told. There were six sovereigns of the line of Stuart -- James I., Charles I., Charles II, James II, Mary, and Anne.
DESCENT OF THE CROWN FROM HENRY VII. TO JAMES I.
Henry VII. (Tudor 1456-1509) married Elizabeth of York (d. 1503). Their children:
Henry VIII. (1491-1547)
Margaret (1489-1541)
Henry VIII married six times:
Catharine of Aragon; child Mary (1516-1558)
Anne Boleyn; child Elizabeth (1533-1603)
Jane Seymour; child Edward VI. (1537-1553)
Anne of Cleves
Catharine Howard
Catharine Parr
Margaret married James IV. (Stuart) of Scotland (d. 1513 at Flodden) Their child:
James V. of Scotland (1512-1542) married Mary of Guise; their child:
Mary (Stuart), Queen of Scots (1542-1587) married Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley; their child:
James VI. (Stuart; 1566-1625)
In reading the history of England up to the present time, a great deal has been said about the kings and the queens, and what they did and thought. It was right to pay much attention to these things in the earlier part of our history, because the kings and queens were often the most powerful and important persons in the country, and what they did and thought made the greatest possible difference to those who lived under their rule. In the reigns of Henry VIII. and of Queen Elizabeth, it is impossible not to turn our attention first of all to the king or the queen, and to regard him or her as the chief figure in the story of the time.
Now, however, we have come to a period in our history when another great power besides that of the Crown began to make itself felt. This new power was the power of Parliament. The history of the Stuart Period is a history of the long and fierce struggle which took place between the king on the one hand, and the Parliament on the other. The king fought to keep his own power and the right to rule the country by his own will. The Parliament fought for the right to prevent the king from governing the country by his own will and against the will of Parliament. In the end Parliament won the day, and made it part of the fixed and settled law of the land that the king or queen has no right to rule this country without the consent of Parliament.
At the present day the Government of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland is what is called a Constitutional Government -- that is to say, a Government in which all things are done in accordance with the fixed rule and law of the Constitution. * Some of the laws and rules of our Constitution were fixed and settled before the Stuart Period, and some have been fixed and settled since its close, but many of the most important rules and laws of the British Constitution were first firmly fixed during this Stuart Period, about which we are now going to read.
[Constitution, from the Latin 'constituere,' to establish -- a thing "established" or "constituted."]
The New King and His Subjects. (Ch 51)
"Elizabeth died: and the Kingdom passed to one who was, in his own opinion, the greatest master of king-craft who ever lived, but who was, in truth, one of those kings whom God seems to send for the express purpose of hastening revolutions." -- Macaulay.
James was thirty-six years old, and had been King of Scotland thirty-five years, when the news reached him that Queen Elizabeth was dead and that he had become King of England as well as of Scotland. He was, naturally, very pleased to hear the news. Scotland was at that time a poor country, and was still greatly disturbed by the rivalry of the two parties which had fought against each other so fiercely in the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots. England under Elizabeth had become rich and powerful, and there seemed no longer any fear of civil war among the English. James was therefore glad to exchange the palace at Holyrood for the greater splendour of Windsor and St. James's. He came to London in great state, stopping at several places on the way in order to receive the congratulations of his new subjects.
Many of the nobles and chief persons came to meet the king upon his journey, at York, at Newark, and elsewhere. The king, anxious to seem gracious and to please everybody, gave titles right and left to those who were presented to him. From the very first he wished to be thought a gracious king. It is doubtful, however, whether those who saw James were as much struck by his kingly appearance as he wished them to be, and as he, no doubt, thought they were. It is said that the king was of ungainly appearance, clumsy in movement, and not very cleanly in his habits; but whatever other people may have thought of the king, the king beyond all doubt thought a great deal of himself. We shall see that James's good opinion of himself soon brought him into trouble.
If we go back a long way in English history to the time of the Plantagenets, who reigned before the Tudors, we shall find that the English kings in those days -- Henry IV., Henry VI., and Edward IV. -- though they had a great deal of power, could not always do as they liked. The great nobles were also very powerful, and were able to interfere with the king and to control his actions. Sometimes, indeed, they were as powerful as the king himself, for we read of the Earl of Warwick being called the "King-Maker" because it was said that he had power to make or unmake kings as he chose. Parliament, too, was not without its share of power in those days. The Commons of England had always claimed the right to prevent the king from imposing any taxes upon the country without their consent, and the House of Commons itself often refused to vote money to the king until he promised to remedy the grievances of which they complained. But during the Wars of the Roses most of the great nobles had been killed in battle, or had lost their lives upon the scaffold; and when the first of the Tudor sovereigns, Henry VII, came to the throne he found no power left in the country strong enough to resist his will.
The great nobles had been killed or had been deprived of their land, and the House of Commons was not yet strong enough to fight alone against a powerful king. And thus it came about that during the reigns of the Tudors, the power of the Crown became greater than it had ever been before in our history; and the Tudor kings and queens, being very determined and able men and women, knew how to make the most of the power they had won.
The Doctrine of "Divine Right." (Ch 51)
"I will have none of that: I will have one doctrine and one discipline, one religion in substance and in ceremony." -- James I. at the Hampton Court Conference.
But it was not only the downfall of the nobles which had given greater power to the Crown. A great change had come over the title by which the King or Queen of England claimed to rule. A strange doctrine had been invented, or, rather, had been brought over to England from other countries in which it had already been preached by kings and by those who flattered them. It is necessary to remember the name of this strange doctrine, because it played a very important part in the history of the Stuart Period. It was called the Doctrine of "Divine Right," and it declared that kings rule over their subjects as a matter of right, and that this right is given to them by God.
It is quite plain that this idea was certain to lead to one result. If it were true that the king reigned, not by the consent of the people, but by a right which the people could not interfere with, then it was evident that the king could do anything he liked, and that he was above all laws which the people or the Parliament, which represented the people, might make. If the king wanted a thing done in one way, and the Parliament and the people wanted it done in another, the king had only to say, "It does not matter to me what your wishes may be, I am a king by Divine Right, and what I wish must be the law." Then, of course, either the king or the Parliament had to give way.
In the times of the Tudor kings and queens of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth there were often disputes between the Crown and the Parliament; but the Crown being strong and Parliament weak, it was Parliament which had to give way. We shall see that when disputes of the same kind broke out in the time of the Stuarts, things were altered, and it was not long before Parliament and the people declared that the king had no Divine Right to rule over them, but that he, like everybody else, must act according to law.
James I., when he came from Scotland, thought that he had only to step into the shoes of Queen Elizabeth and Henry VIII. in order to exercise all the power which they had exercised. He was much mistaken, but it was some time before he found out his mistake. James was a great believer in his Divine Right to rule over the people of England and Scotland; indeed, he was never so happy as when he was laying down the law for his subjects.
The first thing that occupied his attention was the difference of religion which he found existing in England. At that time there were three great parties in England. There were the friends of the Protestant Reformed Church as fixed by law, which was called The Established Church; there were the Roman Catholics; and, lastly, there were those Protestants who thought that the Reformation had not gone far enough, and who, though they were great enemies to the Roman Catholics, were also enemies to the Protestant Church as fixed by law. This party was called the Puritan party, and we have already read something about it in the story of Queen Elizabeth.
During the last years of Queen Elizabeth's reign, the Puritans had increased in number and in influence. This was not wonderful. When Queen Elizabeth and her counsellors had settled once for all that the Protestant religion must take the place of the Roman Catholic in England, they had not been content to declare that all public services held in England should be Protestant services, but they had laid down a great number of rules and regulations declaring exactly what was to be the form of the services and what the bishops and the clergy were to teach.
Unfortunately, they went further, and they set to work to persecute and punish all those, whether they were Roman Catholics or whether they were Puritans, who did not obey the rules and regulations which they made. It is easy to see that in doing this they were forsaking the truth which, as Protestants, they should have been the first to teach -- namely, that a man has a right to worship God after his own conscience, and that no one has a right to punish him for doing so.
The Puritans believed that the Protestant Church as it had been set up by Edward VI. and Elizabeth was still too much like the Roman Catholic Church, and many of them refused to obey the orders of the bishops and to attend services in the churches. For their disobedience they had been punished; and just as the persecution of the Protestants by Roman Catholics had made the Protestants stronger than they were before, so the persecution of the Puritans by the Protestant Church now led to an increase in the influence and the power of the Puritans.
It is necessary to understand something about the division between these three parties at the time when James I. became, king, or otherwise we should not be able to follow the story of what took place. When the king came to London, everyone was very curious to know with which of the three parties he would side. There were some who held that in his heart he favoured the Roman Catholics, and would do his best to strengthen their cause. There were others who thought that he would do all he could to help the Puritans, and this did not seem unlikely. The Protestants in Scotland mostly belonged to a party called the Presbyterian party, and the Presbyterians were as a rule more friendly to the Puritans than to the other English Protestants.
But James soon made it quite clear that he intended to side neither with the Roman Catholics nor with the Puritans, but with the bishops and with the Established Church. He declared that, like Henry VIII., he was the Head of the Church in England; and he went further, and declared that no one could lay down the teaching of that Church better than himself. He took part in the disputes between the different parties. He wrote books and he preached sermons.
A great meeting, or "Conference," was held at Hampton Court. He ordered the bishops and the leaders of the Puritans to come to the Conference and argue before him; and, when he could not get the best of the argument in any other way, he interrupted the speaker by declaring that he was the true and only judge of what was right, and that those who differed from him would do well to keep silence. Having made up his mind which party he would favour, the king was not slow to put in force the laws against all those who differed from that party, whether they were Roman Catholics or Protestants. In consequence, he made enemies on both sides, and we shall see that both sides tried to punish him, though in different ways.
The Beginning of Troubles. (Ch 51)
"For freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won." -- Byron.
At the very beginning of the reign, plots were formed against the king and against his Council, at the head of which was Robert Cecil, son of Elizabeth's famous minister Lord Burleigh. These plots were known as the Main Plot and the Bye Plot. The chief conspirator was Lord Cobham, and Sir Walter Raleigh was said to be mixed up in the latter plot. It was proved that the conspirators had tried to get the help of Spain to further their objects. Raleigh was found guilty and imprisoned in the Tower, where he remained for many years. The little cell in which he spent so long a time may still be seen in the White Tower, which forms the great central building of the Tower of London.
The discovery of the conspiracy strengthened the position of King James upon the throne, and his support of the bishops and of the Established Church gained him the support and good will of by far the greater number of the Protestants of England. It was not long, however, before he found himself in trouble. He had declared himself to be a King by Divine Right and Head of the Church in England; he now went further, and thought that he would prove to all the world that not only was he above the law, but that he had a right to do that which was contrary to the law.
In the year 1604 Parliament was called together. The electors of Buckinghamshire elected as their member Sir Francis Goodwin. The king disapproved of the election of Goodwin, and declared that he had been wrongly elected. He sent down orders to the county, and caused another member -- namely, Sir John Fortescue -- to be elected instead. Here, then, were two members elected to the House of Commons for the same seat. The question was, which should be allowed to sit for the county of Buckingham, the king's man or the Commons' man?
The quarrel does not seem very important now, but it should be remembered, because it was the first skirmish in the great battle which was fought in the Stuart times between king and Parliament, and which ended at last in the triumph of Parliament. This first skirmish was a drawn battle. The Commons refused to let Sir John Fortescue take his seat. The king commanded the Commons to admit him. The Commons stuck to their refusal. The king commanded the Commons to confer with the House of Lords. The Commons replied that the matter was their business, and did not concern the House of Lords. The king got angry, and told the Commons that they held all their rights by his royal favour alone. The Commons respectfully replied that this was a mistake, and that the power of making laws lay in the High Court of Parliament, and that they could be made only by the agreement of the Commons, the accord of the Lords, and the assent of the Sovereign.
At last, after the quarrel had lasted a long time, it was put an end to by a proposal made by the king -- that neither Sir Francis Goodwin nor Sir John Fortescue should be member, but that there should be another election. Ever since this time the House of Commons has had the right to settle disputes arising out of the election of its own members. [The right to try petitions was delegated by the Home of Commons in 1868 to the judges, and all election petitions are now tried by two judges.]
This first quarrel with Parliament having come to an end, a still more serious danger threatened the country. This time it was Parliament itself which was in danger. James and the Church party had made up their minds that both Roman Catholics and Puritans should be punished if they refused to obey the law and to acknowledge the king's title as Head of the Church, and his power, with the consent of Parliament, to fix the form in which services should be held. All those who refused to obey, whether they were Roman Catholics or Puritans, were punished and were persecuted with almost as much bitterness as the Protestants had been in former days by the Roman Catholics.
The Pilgrim Fathers. (Ch 51)
"Down to the Plymouth Rock, that had been to their feet as a door-step
Into a world unknown, -- the corner-stone of a nation!
******
O strong hearts and true! not one went back in the 'Mayflower!'
No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this ploughing!"
-- Longfellow: "The Sailing of the 'Mayflower.'"
Some of the Puritans decided to leave England for ever, and to sail away to the New World across the Atlantic, where they thought that they would be safe from persecution. Some of them crossed the Channel, and went to live in Holland; but in Holland they were among foreigners, and though they could not any longer live in England, they longed to be in a land where English law was known and where the English tongue was spoken. They determined at last to find such a land for themselves.
In 1620, sixteen years after the Hampton Court Conference, a party of English Puritans -- men, women, and children, to the number of 100 -- sailed from Boston, in Lincolnshire, for North America. The ship they sailed in was called the Mayflower. They stopped on their voyage at Plymouth, and Plymouth was the last English town which they saw. After a long voyage their little vessel sighted land on the American coast in what is now the State of Massachusetts.
They came to shore, and made a little settlement in the new and strange country. Like good Englishmen, they called their new town after the one they had left in the old country they loved, in spite of the unkindness of its rulers. The town has grown, but it still bears the name which its founders gave it -- "Plymouth." The stone on which the sea-worn travellers first set foot in America is still shown with pride by their descendants, the citizens of the State of Massachusetts in the great Republic of the United States. It is called to this day "The Pilgrims' Stone," after those who had made this long pilgrimage in search of freedom.
Those citizens of the United States who can claim to be descended from the Pilgrim Fathers, who landed from the Mayflower at Plymouth, in Massachusetts, in the year 1620, are proud of their forefathers. And, indeed, they have reason to be, for the descendants of the Puritans who left England to escape persecution during the days of the Stuarts grew and multiplied in the new land, and to this day form the best and strongest part of the population of that part of the United States in which they settled, and which they called by the name which they have kept to this day -- "The New England States." The New England States are Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Connecticut.
Many of the Puritans remained behind, and cherished their anger against the king, in the first place because he had persecuted them and their friends, and in the second place because they thought that he was in his heart friendly to the Roman Catholics. The Puritan party grew stronger and stronger, for at that time by far the greater number of people in England were Protestants, and even those who did not agree with the Puritans in all things were friendly to them on account of their religion. The Roman Catholics were no less angry with the king, who persecuted them, than were the Protestants; and as their party was not very strong in England, but was very strong in Spain and in other foreign countries, they were accustomed to look abroad for help in their struggle against the king.
The Gunpowder Plot. (Ch 51)
"Please to remember the Fifth of November:
Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot."
In the year 1604 a Roman Catholic gentleman of the name of Catesby formed a plot by which he hoped to put an end once for all to the persecution of his friends, and to punish the king and Parliament. Together with a soldier of the name of Guy Fawkes, a Yorkshireman, he became the author of the famous "Gunpowder Plot." An empty cellar near to the House of Lords was taken by the conspirators, and a tunnel through the ground was begun, which it was hoped they would be able to get directly under the Houses of Parliament.
By what seemed to the conspirators a stroke of good fortune, the tunnel became unnecessary, for they were soon able to hire another cellar which lay exactly under the House of Lords. In this cellar Catesby and Fawkes collected a number of barrels of gunpowder, their object being, when the proper time came, to blow up the Houses of Parliament, and thus to get rid of their enemies. The plot very nearly succeeded, but, happily, those who had first started it were not content to keep the secret among a few persons only. It was their intention after the explosion to kill or to carry off the members of the Royal Family, and some of them hoped to make Arabella Stuart, a relative of James, queen.
But in order to do all these things money was required, and Fawkes and Catesby had therefore to tell their story to several rich Roman Catholics whom they thought they could trust, and from whom they expected to receive help. Among these rich Roman Catholics were Sir Everard Digby and Sir Thomas Tresham. Now, it is not very hard for one person to keep a secret if he has a great interest in doing so. It is not so easy for two people to keep a secret; but when the secret becomes known to a score of different people, then it is almost certain that before long it will cease to be a secret at all.
And so it was in this case. Several of the conspirators had friends in Parliament, and though each of them was quite willing that other people's friends should be blown up, they were anxious that their own particular friends should escape. Sir Thomas Tresham had a friend in the House of Lords, named Lord Monteagle, who had married his sister. We can imagine what must have been the astonishment of Lord Monteagle and his family, as they were sitting at supper on the 26th of October, 1605, when a strange man came suddenly into the room, handed a letter to the page-boy, and disappeared. Still greater was the astonishment when the letter was read out aloud to those assembled. This is what was in it:
"My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation, therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift your attendance at this Parliament, for God and man hath concurred to punish the wickedness of this time; and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire to yourself into your country, where you may expect the event in safety; for though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is passed as soon as you have burnt the letter, and I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you."
This was quite enough to arouse suspicion, and suspicion once aroused, it was a short step towards making a thorough search in the Houses of Parliament. Cecil, James's chief minister, to whom the news was brought, acted wisely. Parliament was to meet on the 5th of November. He let the plot go on, and up to the last moment the plotters believed that they had kept their secret. A little after midnight Sir Thomas Knevett, a magistrate of Westminster, and a party of soldiers, entered the cellar, where Guy Fawkes stood with a dark lantern in his hand ready to light the match which was to explode the gunpowder. He struggled fiercely, but was overpowered and made a prisoner. He was taken to the Tower and put to the torture, in the hope of making him tell the names of his accomplices; but he bravely refused to confess. He was executed February 1st, 1606.
His bravery, however, did not save his companions. One by one they were discovered and the plot laid bare. Catesby tried to raise a revolt among the Roman Catholics in Worcestershire, and was killed fighting desperately. Sir Everard Digby and several others were taken and executed. It was not wonderful that the people of England should have been shocked and alarmed when they heard the news of the Gunpowder Plot; nor, indeed, was it wonderful that they should have been exceedingly angry with the Roman Catholics, in whose supposed interest the plot had been formed.
The whole of the Protestants, indeed, were furious, and thousands of Roman Catholics suffered who had nothing whatever to do with the plot, and who were as indignant with the conspirators as any Protestant in the land. For a time, however, the passionate anger of the people would hear no reason, and the laws against the Roman Catholics were made stricter, and were carried out even more harshly, than they had hitherto been.
James Quarrels with the House of Commons. (Ch 51)
"Grievances and supply must go hand in hand." -- Sir Thomas Wentworth.
But James was no sooner free from one trouble than he fell into another. He had already quarrelled once with Parliament over the election of Sir Francis Goodwin, and now he quarrelled with it again about a much more serious matter. We have seen that James believed that he was a king "by Divine Right," that he was above the law, and that he himself had power to make laws. It was this last claim that brought him into conflict with Parliament. The king had been extravagant in his expenditure; he was constantly in want of money. He tried to get money in many ways, and among others by selling titles of rank to those who cared to buy them. Not a very honourable way of earning a title!
When he had come to the end of all other means, James made up his mind to impose taxes upon the people without consulting Parliament. He declared that he had the right to do this by his "Prerogative" It was allowed by all, that by the Constitution of England certain powers belonged to the king, and could be used by him without asking Parliament. Among such powers were those of declaring war and making treaties with other nations. James now said that his "prerogative "also gave him the right to increase the Customs duties and to levy taxes. When, however, he came to try to carry out his intentions, he was met by the House of Commons with a very firm resistance. The Commons told him plainly that in trying to raise money without asking Parliament he was breaking the law as laid down in the Charters, and as declared over and over again in the laws and statutes of England.
The struggle between the king and Parliament lasted during the whole reign, but the House of Commons remained firm, and in the end the king was obliged to obey the law and to ask Parliament to vote the money. Parliament was not unwilling to vote the money, but every time it did so it took care first of all to draw up a list of grievances and to get a promise from the king that he would remedy them if the money were given.
During the first half of his reign James had the great advantage of having Cecil for his chief minister. He was a very able man, and had power enough over the king to prevent his making great mistakes. In 1612, however, nine years after the accession of the king Cecil died, and from that time forward the king's ministers were unworthy men who sought only their own interests, and who cared little for the welfare of the country. The two best-known of these ministers were Robert Carr and George Villiers. Robert Carr was a Scotsman, who was a great favourite with the king, who made him in turn Viscount Rochester and Earl of Somerset. After the downfall of Rochester, Villiers took his place in the affections of the king, and became an especial favourite with the king's son, Charles. We shall hear more of Villiers in the next reign.
It would be impossible to speak about the ministers of King James without saying something about a very distinguished man who served the king in the office of Lord Chancellor, and who ended his life during this reign in shame and disgrace. This was the famous Francis Bacon, about whom we read in the time of Queen Elizabeth. His name is known to all the world as the writer of "Bacon's Essays."
He was, perhaps, the cleverest Englishman of his time. He had been appointed Lord Chancellor, and had been given the title of Viscount St. Albans. In the quarrel between the king and Parliament, Bacon was one of the king's ministers against whom the House of Commons brought the most serious charges. They declared that he had over and over again been guilty of taking bribes, which were offered to him on condition that he would give unjust judgments.
The charges were true, and were proved beyond all doubt, The Chancellor was forced to admit that he was guilty. He was impeached by the House of Commons before the House of Lords. The unhappy man confessed his crime, and threw himself upon the king's mercy. He was sentenced to be imprisoned for life in the Tower, to be dismissed from all his offices, and to pay a fine of 40,000. The king consented to release him from prison, and the fallen Chancellor lived on for a few years at his house near St. Albans. He died in 1626.
The Ancestors of King Edward VII. (Ch 51)
"The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs (God, if Thy will be so)
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!"
-- "Richard III.," Act V., Scene 4.
The mention of Prince Charles's name on the preceding page may remind us that hitherto nothing has been said about King James's family; but some of the members of this family played so important a part in our history that they must not be passed over. James himself had married Anne, daughter of the King of Denmark.
He had three children Henry, Charles, and Elizabeth. Henry, Prince of Wales, did not live to take any great part in our history. Perhaps it would have been a good thing had he done so, for all writers of his time agree in describing him as a young man of great promise, handsome in figure, courageous, anxious to do good, and beloved of the people. Unluckily, this good prince died of a fever in the year 1612, in the nineteenth year of his age.
His brother Charles was a very different character. We need not stop to describe him here, for we shall read more about him, his follies, and his fortunes, when he had become Charles I., King of England. We must note, however, that during his father's lifetime a marriage was arranged between him and the Infanta, daughter of the King of Spain. Charles, accompanied by Villiers, went to Madrid to pay his court to the lady; but the match was broken off -- thanks, some people said, to the misbehaviour of Villiers while he was at the Spanish capital. The failure of the match gave great satisfaction in England, where the Protestants looked with horror upon the idea of a marriage between the Prince of Wales and a Spanish princess. It was then arranged that Charles should marry Princess Henrietta Maria. But this marriage, which was not so unpopular as that which had first been proposed, was not solemnised until after the death of King James.
The name of Princess Elizabeth does not occur very often in the history of England, but there are strong reasons why it should not be forgotten. Elizabeth was married when she was quite a child to Frederick V., the Elector Palatine, * one of the Protestant princes of Germany. At the time of the marriage the bride was seventeen and the bridegroom the same age. The life of Frederick and Elizabeth was a chapter of misfortunes.
[The Palatinate was the district which lies on the west side of the river Rhine, between the towns of Mannheim and Karlsruhe. The Elector Palatine, or Prince of the Palatinate, was one of the princes of Germany who at that time elected the emperor. There were first seven and afterwards nine electors.]
In the year 1618 a fierce war between Protestants and Roman Catholics, known as the Thirty Years' War, broke out. Frederick took the side of the Protestants, and was chosen King of Bohemia by the Protestant princes. But, so far from reigning over his new kingdom, he was driven out of his own dominions by the enemy. All his life long he fought for a crown which he never possessed except in name. Men spoke of him as the "Snow King," so quickly did all his claims to royalty melt away.
But though Frederick and Elizabeth never reigned as king and queen themselves, they became the ancestors of one of the greatest sovereigns of the world; for it is from Frederick, the "Snow King" and Elizabeth, the daughter of James I., that King Edward VII. is descended. On the following page is a table which will show us how this has come about.
In telling the story of the year 1618 we must not omit to mention one sad event by which it was marked. This was the death of the gallant, but unfortunate, Sir Walter Raleigh. Fifteen years before, he had, as we have already seen, been accused of taking part in Lord Cobham's conspiracy. He had been imprisoned in the Tower, and had there passed the weary years, shut off from all the world, in a little cell within the thick walls of the White Tower. While in prison he had made use of his time to write his famous book entitled "The History of the World." In 1617 he was released, and was sent off in command of an expedition to Guiana, in South America. It was hoped that he would discover the fabled "Golden City," of El Dorado, of which many travellers' tales had been told, and which was believed to lie to the south of the great river Orinoco.
But the expedition was a failure. The Golden City remained undiscovered, and, what was worse, Raleigh managed to come to blows with the Spaniards, who had already established themselves in South America. England was at that time supposed to be at peace with Spain, and the king especially did not wish to offend the Spaniards. The opportunity was too good a one to be lost by Raleigh's enemies. He was accused of making war upon the king's "dear brother," the King of Spain. He was tried, and though he was not punishable with death for any offence he had committed since his release from the Tower, his old sentence, which had been pronounced upon him fifteen years before, was revived against him, and under that sentence he was condemned to death, and executed on the 29th of October, 1618.
The Translation of the Bible. (Ch 51)
"The English version of the Bible remains the noblest example of the English tongue. Its perpetual use made it, from the instant of its appearance, the standard of our language." -- J. K. Green: "History of the English People."
We have not yet said much about the reign of James I. that is very creditable to the king, or that is very pleasant to look back upon. There were, however, three things which were done during the reign and under the direction of the king which were of great importance in themselves, and which have had the most fortunate consequences for our country. If we turn to the beginning of our Bible we shall find in the Preface the following inscription:
"TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE
JAMES,
BY THE GRACE OF GOD
KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, * AND IRELAND,
DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, etc,
The Translators of the Bible wish Grace, Mercy, and Peace,
through JESUS CHRIST our Lord."
[The Kings of England at this time still called themselves Kings of France.]
What is the history of this inscription? After the Conference at Hampton Court, which has been already mentioned, the king gave orders that a translation of the Bible should be made which should become from that time forward the only translation allowed by law to be used in the churches. The translation was made by forty-seven learned men. The Bible as translated in the time of James I. is the one which is read to this day by nearly everybody who reads the Bible in the English language.
We have reason to be thankful that the Bible was translated just at this time. The scholars who did the work did not perhaps know quite as much Hebrew as some students do now, and there are some passages which might have been more correctly translated if the translators had been more skilful than they were. It is for this reason that in our own day a new version or edition of the Bible has been printed which is called the Revised Version, and in which the small errors made by the translators of King James's time have been corrected. But those who did the work of correction took pains to make as little alteration as possible in the actual words, and in this they acted rightly. In the first place, after nearly three hundred years of daily use by Englishmen of all classes and of all lands, the actual words of King James's Bible have become so familiar to all who speak English that it would have seemed to many millions of people to be losing an old friend if they lost the familiar words of their Bible.
In the second place, it would have been a great mistake to make more alterations than were actually needed, because it would have been scarcely possible to make the language more beautiful than it is in the Old Version. The time of James I. was the time of Shakespeare, and it was just before the time of Milton. It was an age when people wrote very simple and yet very clear and beautiful English. One of the best and simplest writers of English that ever lived -- namely, John Bunyan, the author of the Pilgrim's Progress -- was born in the year 1628; and among those who made the translation of the Bible in James's time were men who had the same power that Bunyan had of writing noble and simple English.
The Union with Scotland, and the Plantation of Ulster. (Ch 51)
"All your strength is in your union,
All your danger is in discord." -- Longfellow: "Hiawatha."
"It is the sin fullest Thing in the world, to forsake or destitute a Plantation, once in Forwardnesse: For besides the Dishonour, it is the Guiltinesse of Blood, of many Commiserable Persons." Bacon's Essays: No. 33, "Of Plantations," p. 143.
A second event took place in the reign of James I. which deserves to be remembered because of the good results which in the end it led to. This was the union between the crowns of England and Scotland. We have already seen how it was that the King of Scotland succeeded as a matter of right to the throne of England. This was the first step towards bringing about that real Union between England and Scotland which exists at the present day, and which is so great a strength to our country. England and Scotland now form parts of a truly "United Kingdom," united at home and united abroad, having one sovereign, one parliament, one army, one navy, and respected throughout the world as parts of one great and united country.
It must not be supposed, however, that the union of the two crowns which followed when James became King of England as well as King of Scotland put an end at once to the jealousy and envy which had so long existed between the two countries. On the contrary, we shall see that battles were still fought between English and Scottish armies, and that there were fierce conflicts between the people of the two countries.
For many years to come Scotland had a Parliament of its own, separate from that of England. The Scottish army was quite independent of the English army; duties were levied upon goods crossing the Border from England into Scotland or from Scotland into England; Scotsmen were still regarded as foreigners in England, and Englishmen were looked upon in the same light in Scotland.
But the first step towards a real union had been taken, and from that time forward the healing-up of the old enmities between the two countries went on. The Scots became content with the new state of things, for they felt that they had lost neither in honour nor strength. They had given a king to England, instead of England forcing a king upon them, and what war would never have accomplished was at length brought about by the good will and good sense of the two peoples. The third thing which was done in the reign of James I., and to which it is possible to look back with pleasure and satisfaction, was the settlement of the north of Ireland by a number of Englishmen and Scotsmen who were sent over by order of the king to occupy and cultivate the lands which had become vacant in the Province of Ulster. During the constant fighting and the many insurrections which had taken place in Ireland, many of the Irish had been driven from their lands, or had left them to seek their fortunes in some other country.
James believed that peace might be secured, and that the Protestant cause might be strengthened, if he could succeed in raising up a loyal and Protestant population in the north of Ireland, and it was with this object that the new "Colonists" were sent over. This "planting" of English and Scottish families in Ireland is usually spoken of as the "Plantation of Ulster." The descendants of the colonists grew and prospered in their new home; and the Protestants of Ulster have always been among the most thriving, industrious, and successful of the inhabitants of Ireland.
We shall learn in a later chapter how in the reign of William III. the Ulster Protestants saved Ireland for the United Kingdom at a time when a foreign army had become master of a greater part of the island, and how the gallant defence of Londonderry turned the tide of battle in favour of the Protestant cause. At this day not only are the Protestants of Ulster among the most loyal, industrious, and energetic of the inhabitants of the United Kingdom, but it is hardly possible to find any part of the world in which Ulster men have not made their mark by their industry and their energy.
And now we have come to the end of the reign of James I. On the 13th of March, 1625, James was taken ill on his return from hunting. He died on the 27th of March, in the fifty-ninth year of his age and the twenty-third year of his reign.
Chapter 52. Charles I. How the King Angered the Parliament. 1625-1630.
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Principal events during the reign of Charles I: |
Cavaliers and Roundheads. (Ch 52)
"For God, for the Cause, for the Church, for the Laws,
For Charles, King of England, and Prince Rupert of the Rhine."
-- Macaulay: "Naseby."
We are now going to read the story of Charles 1, one of the most unfortunate, though not one of the worst, of our kings. The story of his reign may be divided into three parts. The first part contains an account of the long list of faults and errors which the king committed, and of the struggle which he made to set up the kingly power above that of the Parliament and the people. The second part tells how the king, angry at being opposed, tried to reign, without Parliament, as an absolute sovereign. The third part tells how Parliament and people, unable any longer to endure the conduct of the king, rose against him in arms, fought for their liberties, and at last inflicted upon their sovereign the punishment of death for the crimes which they declared he had committed against the country.
It would be quite impossible to understand the last part of this story unless we had already made ourselves familiar with the first part. The people of England had never learned to hate their kings. At the beginning of King Charles's reign it would never have crossed the mind of any Englishman that England could be governed in any other way than by a king. Even at the very height of the Civil War which took place in this reign, by far the greater number of those who fought against the king had no wish to change the form of government in England, or to get rid of kings altogether.
It is well to remember these things, because they prove to us how many and great must have been the faults which Charles committed to have driven the English people into open war against him. We shall see that these faults were both many and great, and that they were of a kind which Englishmen found it very difficult to forgive or to overlook. It has always been the boast of Englishmen that they love liberty, and that they respect the law. King Charles was unwise enough to make a fierce attack upon the liberties of Englishmen, and to break the laws which had been passed for the protection of those liberties. He learnt, however, that no man in England, not even if he be a king, has the right to break the law; and that if he does break the law he will be punished for doing so.
When Charles became King of England and Scotland, on the death of his father in the year 1625, he was in his twenty-fifth year. He was a handsome and spirited young man, gifted with many good qualities, and popular with his subjects. He had scarcely succeeded to the throne when he decided to complete the arrangements which had already been set on foot during his father's lifetime for his marriage with the Princess Henrietta Maria, sister of Louis XIII., King of France. The marriage was not very popular in England, for the Princess was a Roman Catholic, and the people would have preferred a Protestant queen; but a French marriage was thought very much better than the Spanish marriage which had first been talked of. The new queen was a mere child when she was married. She was only fifteen when she left France. She was welcomed by Charles with sincere pleasure, for she was young, pretty, and attractive, and she was a good wife to Charles during the whole of his troubled life.
We see here a picture of Charles, painted by the famous Dutch artist, Van Dyck, in a later period of the king's reign than that of which we are now speaking. The portrait gives us some idea of the gay costumes which were fashionable at the Court of the Stuarts. The king and his courtiers, indeed, followed the examples set by the nobles of France, and decked themselves in gorgeous dresses of velvet and satin; their curled locks were allowed to grow down to their shoulders, and the beautiful lace worn by these gaily-clad gentlemen would stir the envy of any lady in the present day. With gay dresses went gay manners and a love of enjoyment which could often only be gratified by great extravagance.
There had been times in English history before the reign of Charles when costumes had been very rich, and when the extravagance of the Court had been very marked, but they were never so rich and so marked as they now became; but while there was one set of people who followed the fashion of gaiety and expense, there was growing up at the same time another set of people -- namely, the Puritans who not only did not care for fine dresses and lively amusements, but who actually thought it wrong to dress in any but the most sober manner, and who condemned amusements as a sinful waste of time. Thus it came about that not only were there two parties differing in their opinions, but that those who held these different opinions led very different kinds of lives, and could often be distinguished from each other by their dress and appearance.
We hear much during this reign of the Cavaliers on the one side, and of the Roundheads on the other. The Roundheads, or Puritans with their straight, cropped hair, their sombre dress, and their strict rules of life were never tired of finding fault with the folly, the extravagance, and the careless lives of the Cavaliers. The Cavaliers, on the other hand, with their long curled hair, their slashed satin jackets, their fine laces and their feathers, despised the Roundheads for their common looks and their dull lives, and declared that not only were they unable to enjoy life themselves, but that they were also determined to prevent anyone else from enjoying it either.
But it must not be supposed for a moment that the whole of the English people were either extravagant Cavaliers or sour-looking Puritans. Then, as now, by far the greater number of people were quiet, honest men and women who were quite content to enjoy life in their own way, and to let other people do the same. For the most part they would have been glad to keep out of quarrels; and it was not until they believed their liberties, their rights, and their properties were really threatened, that they at last consented to take part on one side or the other.
The Quarrel Grows. (Ch 52)
"So much for Buckingham!" -- Colley Cibber's"Richard III."
At the time when Charles came to the throne all Europe was in arms, and Protestants and Roman Catholics were engaged in a fierce war. Charles hardly knew which side to take. The queen was a Roman Catholic, and Charles himself was very anxious to be a good friend to the King of France. On the other hand, the whole feeling of the people of England was in favour of the Protestant cause. Undoubtedly, if Charles had been able to please himself, he would have done nothing to help the Protestants, and he and the Duke of Buckingham, his minister, would have taken sides with the King of France.
But the king was in want of money, and to get money he must go to Parliament. In the year 1625, therefore, Parliament was called together, and the House of Commons were asked to vote the money the king required. They were asked for a million pounds, but they knew very well if they once gave all that was asked of them, they would have lost all power over the king for a long time to come, and would have no chance of getting their grievances redressed. They therefore refused to vote more than £150,000, and they took another step which greatly displeased the king.
It had been the custom, when a king or queen came to the throne, to vote to the new sovereign a grant of "Tunnage and Poundage," to which he or she was entitled for their whole lives. "Tunnage and poundage" were taxes levied upon every tun of beer or wine, and upon every pound of merchandise, which was imported into the country. Such payments are now called Customs Duties. When once the vote had been passed, the king was always sure of having a considerable sum of money every year without going to the House of Commons to get it; but in the first Parliament of King Charles the House of Commons refused to do what had been done by their predecessors. They declared that they would vote "tunnage and poundage" to the king, but that they would vote it for one year only, and not for the king's life. The king was furious; and, rather than take the money on such conditions, he refused it altogether.
Meanwhile an incident had taken place which showed that the House of Commons had good reasons for mistrusting the king. Louis XIII., King of France, was at this time engaged in a civil war with his Protestant subjects, and his army had laid siege to the strong town of La Rochelle, in the west of France, in which the Protestants, or "Huguenots," as they were called, had taken refuge. Louis' chief minister was a very great and famous man named Richelieu. Richelieu tried to persuade Charles to help him and King Louis against the Huguenots. But Charles did not dare to do this openly, for at that very time his English subjects were most anxious that he should send an expedition to help the Huguenots against Louis. A fleet of eight English ships had been collected in the Channel. It was hoped that it would be sent to relieve the garrison of La Rochelle.
The ships actually started, and had got as far as the French coast when Admiral Pennington, who was in command, received orders from the king to take on board French soldiers and sailors, and actually to sail away to La Rochelle to fight, not for the Huguenots, but against them. But the king had reckoned without his host, for the captains and crews refused to obey the orders, and Pennington had to sail back to England. The fleet was once more ordered to sail to Dieppe, and this time Pennington succeeded in handing over the ships to the French, but the sailors, having been compelled by force to go as far as La Rochelle, deserted, and many of them went over to the enemy.
This strange story will show us how great was the difference between king and people, and how little reason Parliament had to trust in the wisdom or honour of the king. Naturally, when a dispute next arose between Charles and the House, the feeling on either side was more bitter than it had ever been before. Nor was it long before a new conflict arose. As on the former occasion, it was brought about by a demand for money, which the Commons would not vote unless their grievances were attended to.
The king, it must be remembered, had refused the "tunnage and poundage" duties altogether, because he could not get them granted for his lifetime; he was, therefore, in very great need of money, and when Parliament met again the first thing they were asked to do was to vote subsidies. The House of Commons were not in a good humour. In the first place, they were angry with the king for having sent English ships to help King Louis, and they declared that he was in reality the friend of the Roman Catholics and the enemy of the Protestants.
In the second place, they were very angry with Buckingham, whom they believed to be the king's adviser in all the actions of which they disapproved, and whom they specially blamed for the part he had taken in the unfortunate expedition to La Rochelle. When, therefore, they were asked to vote the subsidies they were more determined than ever. Their grievances, they said, must be heard and redressed before they would vote a penny. The king saw that nothing could be got without sacrificing Buckingham, and he accordingly at once dissolved this his first Parliament. Thus we see how King Charles made his first attack upon the liberties of Parliament, and took the first step on the path of despotism -- the path which was destined to lead him to so much misfortune.
The King Sets Aside Magna Charta. (Ch 52)
"Whatever, by the manifestation of the Royal displeasure, tends to intimidate individual members from proposing, or this House from receiving, debating and passing Bills, tends to prevent even the beginning of every reformation in the State, and utterly destroys the deliberative capacity of Parliament. We, therefore, claim, demand, and insist upon it, as our undoubted right, that no persons shall be deemed proper objects of animadversion by the Crown, in any mode whatever, for the votes which they give, or the propositions which they make, in Parliament." -- Burke: Motion on Speech from the Throne, 1784.
Now that Parliament was dissolved, the king soon found himself in a difficulty. The government of the country could not be carried on without money, and money had to be got somehow. The king and his ministers thought of two ways of getting it -- the one a very dangerous and foolish way, the other a wise one. The first step the king took was to issue orders under the Great Seal for the payment of money. Those to whom these orders were sent, for the most part, obeyed them, fearing the anger of the king; but they did not forget that in issuing such orders the king was breaking the law laid down in the 12th Article of Magna Charta, which says that "No scutage or aid shall be imposed in our Kingdom except by the Common Council of the Realm."
[See also 34 Edward I., cap. i (de Tallagio non concedendo). "No Tallage or Aid shall be taken or levied by us or our Heirs in our Realm without the good Will and Assent of the Archbishops, Bishops, Earls, Barons, Burgesses, and other Freemen of the Land."]
The feeling in the country was not yet strong enough to resist these illegal demands, but they gave rise to a very bitter spirit, and helped to turn men's minds against the king.
The second method by which Charles tried to get money was a wiser one than that which has just been described. The English people have always been more easy to lead than to drive, and the king, knowing this, thought that if he could carry out some policy which was particularly pleasing to Parliament, he might obtain more from the good will of the House of Commons than he could obtain from its fears. He knew that one of the most popular things which he could do would be to renew the war with Spain, and accordingly an expedition was sent out to Cadiz to try to capture the Spanish treasure-ships coming from South America.
But the expedition was very badly managed, and ended in a complete failure, and thus, when at last, in February, 1626, Charles was compelled to summon his second Parliament, he found the Commons in no better humour than before. On the contrary, the very first thing they did was to draw up a fresh list of their grievances, and to the old grievances they now added new ones. They complained bitterly of the ways in which the king had raised money: ways which they declared were altogether illegal. It was hardly wonderful, therefore, that when the king sent a message to the House asking for a vote of money, he should have been met at once with the old request that he would first redress grievances; and among these grievances it was clear that the continued favour shown to Buckingham was one of the most serious.
Then the king did an exceedingly foolish thing. He forgot all his wise intentions of winning the Commons to his side by doing things which would please them, and he began to threaten them. "I will be willing," so ran the king's reply to the Commons "I will be willing to hear your grievances, as my predecessors have been, so that you will apply yourselves to redress grievances and not to inquire after grievances. I must let you know that I will not let any of my servants be questioned by you: much less such as are of eminent place and near to me. I see you specially aim at the Duke of Buckingham. I would you would hasten for my supply, * or else it will be worse for yourselves; for, if any ill happen, I think I shall be the last to feel it."
[* Supply. The sums of money voted by Parliament are called "Supplies."]
It is necessary to remember this answer, for it shows us clearly what an important thing the House of Commons was fighting for. The king declared that Parliament had no right whatever to question any of his servants or ministers. The House of Commons, in the year 1626, declared that this was quite a mistake, and that it was both the right and the duty of Parliament to inquire into what the king's ministers did, and to punish them if they did wrong.
We know that the view which was then held by the House of Commons is the one which is now admitted by everyone in this country. It is one of the chief rules of our Constitution that the ministers of the Crown shall always be answerable to Parliament for everything which they do, and for everything which they advise the sovereign to do. If what is done by the ministers, or by the sovereign on the advice of the ministers, be wrong, then it is on the ministers that the punishment falls. But we shall see that a long and fierce fight was needed before King Charles and those who came to the throne after him would admit that the Parliament had the right to "question the king's servants."
The House of Commons replied to the king's threat by impeaching Buckingham and bringing serious charges against him, some of which were true, and some of which were false. It did not at all suit the king's purpose to allow the charges to be tried, and once more he got himself out of the difficulty for the moment by dissolving Parliament, but not before the House of Commons had had time to draw up another long list of its grievances.
Charles as an Absolute King. (Ch 52)
"The Right Divine of Kings to govern wrong." -- Pope: "Dunciad."
The king had got rid of his troublesome House of Commons for a time, but he had not got his money, and the money had to be obtained somehow. Despite the protest of the Commons, methods which were clearly illegal were once more resorted to. The king declared that the country was in danger of invasion, though no one quite knew who was going to invade it. The threatened invasion was made the excuse for extorting money from all sorts of persons who were known to possess it.
Parliament had refused to grant "tunnage and poundage" dues. The king collected them without the consent of Parliament, by orders under the Great Seal. The seaport towns, including the Port of London, were compelled to furnish ships or the money to pay for ships. The Roman Catholics were compelled to pay heavy fines, and were made to serve as soldiers contrary to the law. But this was not all. Not content with breaking the law, the king and his advisers claimed that in doing these illegal acts Charles was doing no more than he had a right to do by his own power and without the assent of Parliament.
There was at this time a party in the Established Church which was always ready to claim as much power and authority for the king as possible. They declared, as King James had declared, that kings ruled by "Divine Right"; that they were appointed by God; and that they were, therefore, not bound to obey the laws made for other people. At the head of this party was Laud, Bishop of Bath and Wells, who was afterwards made Archbishop of Canterbury. Laud and others went so far as to say in their sermons that all that the king had done was right, and that those who opposed him were not only bad subjects, but bad Christians also.
It was natural that when men saw the king acting illegally, and when they saw his illegal actions supported by the bishops, they were in the greatest fear for their liberties. It was natural, too, that the Puritans who had long been opposed to the bishops, and who had suffered much for refusing to obey the rules of the Established Church should become the leaders in resisting the king. Indeed, from this time forward, the division between the king's friends on the one side, and the Puritans on the other, became greater from day to day. But the time had not yet come when men were prepared openly to resist the king. Sixteen years were to pass before the quarrel came to the point of open fighting. We shall see that nearly everything Charles did during those sixteen years helped to make the quarrel more bitter.
In the year 1627, the year after the second Parliament had been dissolved, five gentlemen were imprisoned by order of the king for refusing to obey the king's orders to pay money. They declared that, by law, they were not bound to pay the money. They were accordingly sent to gaol without trial, and kept there. But all those who have read the early part of our English history know that, so far back as the year 1215, a law had been made which declared in plain terms that "No Freeman shall be taken or imprisoned unless by the lawful judgment of his peers or by the law of the land." These words are to be found in the 29th Article of Magna Charta; and it seemed to everyone as if there could be no doubt whatever that the five gentlemen had been imprisoned contrary to law.
The matter was tried before the judges in the Court of King's Bench, and, to the surprise and dismay of all, the Chief Justice Sir Nicholas Hyde, declared that the law had not been broken, but that the prisoners, having been arrested by the special order of the king, could not claim either to be let out or to be tried. To many it seemed that the Chief Justice had given a wrong judgment in order to please the king, but to all who loved liberty and the old law of England it seemed that if the Chief Justice were right, and if the law had been truly laid down by him, then it was high time that the law should be altered. What was the good of the 29th Article of Magna Charta if free men could be taken and imprisoned without trial?
The king knew quite well that in acting as he had done he was making himself and his ministers hated by many of his subjects. He therefore tried once more to win back the good will which he had lost, by doing something which he thought would be pleasing to the people, and especially to the Protestants. He accordingly sent a fresh expedition, under Buckingham, to help the Huguenots, but this second expedition, like the first, ended in a total and disgraceful failure.
The Petition of Right: a Storm in the Commons. (Ch 52)
"Que Droict soit faict" ("Let right be done").
In March, 1628, Charles was at last forced to call together his third Parliament. It seemed as if his pride would never allow him to take a wise step without also compelling him to take a foolish one which undid all the good that his sensible conduct might have effected. Many of those who had been imprisoned contrary to law were released, but at the same time the king could not refrain from threatening the House of Commons in words which only made its members more stubborn and less friendly. As before, the king asked for money, and, as before, the Commons gave the same answer, in the words of Sir Thomas Wentworth, one of the members: "Grievances and supplies should go hand in hand." In order that there might be no mistake as to what their chief grievances were, the Commons drew up a petition to the king, which was known as the "Petition of Rght." These were the chief points in the Petition of Right:
(1) That no man should be compelled to pay money to the king without the consent of Parliament, and that no man be damaged or punished for refusing to pay.
(2) That no man should be imprisoned without cause shown.
(3) That soldiers and sailors should not be quartered on the people against their will.
(4) That in time of peace no one should be punished by martial law -- that is to say, by military law.
The King declined to give a straightforward answer to the petition. He said that everything ought to be done which was just and right, but he took care not to say that the particular things which the House of Commons had asked for should be done. The House was greatly disappointed, and the king seemed no nearer to getting his money than before. Charles, however, discovered that the House of Commons was in earnest. The Speaker came to him and told him what the temper of the members was, and at last, in despair of getting the much needed money in any other way, the king, on June 7th, 1628, gave orders that the Petition of Right should be acceded to, in the usual words, "Let right be done." * The Commons were delighted. The king had performed his part of the bargain, and they were ready to perform theirs. They voted the required subsidies without hesitation.
[The answer of the Crown, in accepting or granting terms of a petition, was at that time, and still is, given in the old Norman-French, thus: "Soit Droict fait comme il est desire."]
Then, however, there arose another difficulty. The king had assented to the Petition of Right, not in the least desiring that right should be done, but because he wanted money. The Commons had compelled the king to sign the petition because they wanted to see the abuses of which they complained done away with. When, however, they came to put the king's promises to the test, they found Charles as obstinate as ever. He had just promised that no man should be compelled to pay taxes without the consent of Parliament, but he now declared that "tunnage and poundage" were not taxes, and that he would levy them whether the Commons liked it or not. The House of Commons objected.
This time Charles did not at once dissolve Parliament, but he prorogued it -- that is to say, he dismissed it for a time. It seemed as if the king could never hit on a new plan. Once more, in the hope of pleasing the House of Commons, the Duke of Buckingham was ordered to start off upon an expedition -- the object of which was to raise the siege of La Rochelle, where the Huguenots were being besieged. But this expedition was no less unfortunate than those which had gone before it.
In Portsmouth High Street there is a house which is pointed out as that in which George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was murdered. Such, indeed, was the fate of Charles's favourite minister. Just as the duke was about to embark with the fleet, he was stabbed to the heart by one of his former officers, named Felton, who declared that in committing the crime he believed he was serving the cause of God and of his country.
Unluckily, the death of one bad adviser did not prevent Charles from seeking the counsel of others who were neither wiser nor better. Nothing could induce the king to perform the promises which he had made when he gave his consent to the Petition of Right, and the quarrel with the House of Commons, which had now re-assembled, continued until at last it came to a head. Tired of the opposition he met with, the king sent a message to the Commons to adjourn. The Commons declined to adjourn.
On March 2nd, 1629, a second messenger was sent with a similar command. The Speaker, Sir John Finch, who was a friend of the Court, was about to read the king's message to the House, but the members had duties which they were determined to perform, and they feared lest Parliament might be dissolved and they might be all sent about their business before they had time to perform them. Two of the boldest of the members, Denzil Holles and Valentine, stood one on each side of the Speaker's chair, and by main force they held the Speaker down and prevented him from reading the king's message.
The doors were locked. Everyone felt that a solemn and terrible moment had come, and that dangers threatened of which none could see the end. Some openly wept when they saw violence thus used in the House of Commons, and when they reflected that such violence was necessary to protect the liberties of the people.
All were deeply moved. With the Speaker held down by main force in his chair, and with the doors locked, the Commons passed resolutions declaring once more their determination to maintain the liberties which had been claimed in the Petition of Right. The king came down to Westminster, and, furious at what he heard, would have battered in the doors of the House of Commons. Happily, this last act of violence was unnecessary. The resolutions were passed, and the House had done its business, and was content to adjourn when the king's messenger arrived.
Charles at once dissolved Parliament (March 10th, 1629), and his first thought was to punish those members who had taken the chief part in the scene which has been described. One of them, Sir John Eliot, was fined £2,000, Holles was fined a thousand marks, and Valentine £500. All the offenders were sent to gaol, and Sir John Eliot died in prison.
Chapter 53. The King Defies Parliament. 1630-1642.
Ship-money.
"From the day on which the Houses met there was a war waged by them against the king -- a war for all that they held dear, a war carried on at first by means of Parliamentary forms, at last by physical force." -- Macaulay.
We have now come to the end of the first stage of the great struggle between King and Parliament. In five years Charles had summoned and dissolved Parliament three times. Eleven years were now to pass during which no Parliament was summoned, and during which the king attempted to rule as an absolute sovereign. To rule as an absolute sovereign, it was, above all things, necessary that Charles should find some strong and determined man to serve him as his minister.
Such a man he found in Sir Thomas Wentworth, who up to this time had been not only a member of the House of Commons, but had been one of those members who were foremost in opposing the king. It showed some wisdom on the part of Charles that he was able to choose out Wentworth as a man who could help him if he would, and it showed skill on the king's part to be able to persuade Wentworth to leave his old friends and to come over and join the king's party. This, in fact, Wentworth did; he was made Lord Wentworth, and from that day forward to the end of his life faithfully served the king. We shall see how ill Charles repaid him for his faithful service.
There were two great difficulties which the king had to meet and overcome when he set himself to the task of governing England without a Parliament. In the first place, there was the old difficulty of want of money. Money had to be got, and yet it could only be obtained by breaking the law, and every time the law was broken the king made fresh enemies. Then there was the difficult task of satisfying and keeping in order the Puritans.
The Puritan party was growing every day stronger and stronger; those who were opposed to the king and to the bishops on religious grounds were now helped by those who opposed the king and the bishops for political reasons. As it had so often happened before, the moment the king began to persecute and punish the Puritans on account of their religion, the Puritans became stronger and more numerous than before. Those who cared little for the opinions which the Puritans held began to look upon those who held them as men who were unjustly and cruelly treated.
The want of money was the first thing which led to a difficulty. In the year 1634 Charles undertook to help the King of Spain against the Dutch, and promised to supply a certain number of ships for the purpose. The people of England were no friends to the Spaniards, and had no desire to see the Dutch persecuted and defeated. They did not wish to provide ships at all, still less did they wish to pay money for them unless it had been voted by Parliament. But the king declared that by an ancient custom he had the right to compel the payment of "ship-money," and, acting under Wentworth's advice, he sent collectors through the country to raise the tax.
It seemed as if Charles had made up his mind to try how completely he could set aside every Article of Magna Charta. He had already caused men to be imprisoned without a trial; and now he made it clear once more that, despite Magna Charta and despite the Petition of Right, he intended to levy taxes without the consent of Parliament. The attempt led to a trial which has become famous in the history of England.
There was a gentleman named John Hampden, member of Parliament for Buckinghamshire. He owned some land at Stoke Mandeville, near Aylesbury. The collectors of "ship-money" came to him and told him that he was bound to pay twenty shillings in respect of these lands. Hampden declined to pay, and said that it was contrary to law that a tax should be levied without the consent of Parliament, and that Parliament had never consented to the levying of "ship-money."'
The point was tried before twelve of the judges, but, unluckily -- as in the case of the five members who had been tried before Sir Nicholas Hyde -- the judges, or the greater number of them, were on the side of the king and wished to win his favour at any cost. Seven out of the twelve declared that Hampden was in the wrong; and they did what was much more serious -- they laid it down as part of the law of England that no Act of Parliament could take away or alter the power of the king, or prevent him from "commanding the subjects, person, property, and money" of the people.
This judgment was a terrible blow to Hampden's party in the House of Commons. Once more the people of England had reason to feel that if the law were really what the judges declared it to be, it was high time the law should bettered.
Two Evil Counsellors. (Ch 53)
"Thorough." -- Motto of the Earl of Strafford.
The king now placed all his reliance upon Wentworth and upon Laud, whom he had made Archbishop of Canterbury. Both the Archbishop and Wentworth were very able men, and were ready to go great lengths to serve their master; but they showed more zeal than wisdom, and what they did made Charles more disliked and distrusted than he was before. Laud was determined that the laws by which the services in the Established Church were fixed should be strictly carried out, and that every one who broke them should be punished.
The Court of Star-Chamber, about which we read in the time of Henry VII., was made use of to try the offenders, and cruel punishments were inflicted upon those who were brought before the Court. Those who dared to say anything against the bishops and against the form of service used in the Established Church were severely dealt with. Prynne, a Puritan lawyer, who was said to have attacked the royal family in a book which he had written, was fined, put in the pillory, had his ears cut off, and was sent to gaol. Many others were tried and imprisoned by the Court of Star-Chamber.
Nor was Laud content to punish those who differed from the bishops. He himself made changes within the Church which many of those who had hitherto been its best friends did not like or think wise. Some believed that he was a friend of the Roman Catholics, and that he was trying to make the Church of England a Roman Catholic Church. But it was not until he was so rash as to try to compel the Scots to accept the rules and ceremonies of the Church of England that he actually drove his enemies into civil war. The Archbishop was, no doubt, an honest man, who believed that he did right in trying to make everyone think the same as he did; and two things must be remembered in his favour when we condemn him for what he did or tried to do in England.
In the first place, the law was on his side. The law declared that all services and ceremonies in the country should be of one pattern; and Laud had a right to say, when he punished those who used other forms and ceremonies, that they were breaking the law. In the second place, it must not be forgotten that though we hear much of the Puritans, and though their leaders have become famous on account of the part they took in opposing the king, the very great majority of the people of England were at this time members of the Protestant Established Church, were contented with its rules and services, and wished to keep the Prayer-Book unaltered.
But when Laud, in an unhappy hour, tried to compel the Scots to give up their own form of religion and to accept from him forms and ceremonies which they hated, he soon found that though he could punish and terrify a few offenders in England he could not either punish or terrify a whole people. The Scottish Presbyterians were furious when the English forms of service were used. In the great church of St. Giles's, at Edinburgh, an incident took place which deserves to be remembered, because the act of one person showed what was in the minds of many. Among the congregation was a woman named Janet Geddes. When she heard what she considered a Popish service, and saw the ministers dressed in white surplices, which she looked upon as the dress of the Roman Catholic priests, she could contain herself no longer. She took up the stool on which she sat (so, at least, runs the story) and threw it at the head of the bishop.
Whether or not it be actually a fact that Janet Geddes threw her stool at the bishop's head, it is undoubtedly a fact that the same spirit which she is said to have shown, was shown in other ways by thousands of the Scottish Presbyterians. They drew up a Declaration, called the "Solemn League and Covenant," in which they laid down their views as to how the Church should be governed, and condemned the changes with which they were threatened. In all parts of Scotland men flocked to sign The Covenant, and the "Covenanters," as those who signed were called, showed that they were ready, if necessary, to fight for their faith.
An army was quickly raised, and, under the command of General Alexander Leslie, marched towards the Border. Charles was at his wits' end. The Scots were in arms, and he had no money to raise troops to put down those whom he looked upon as rebels. A few troops whom he could get together were useless, and ran away before they were attacked. There was but one thing to be done. A truce was made with the Scots, Charles undertaking to pay their expenses as soon as Parliament met; and on April 13th, 1640, the king was forced, much against his will, to assemble his fourth Parliament.
This time he hoped and believed that he would get what he wanted. With a Scottish army actually on the Border, he felt sure that the English Parliament would lose no time in doing all that was necessary to defeat and drive back the invaders. He was, however, mistaken; and great must have been his disappointment when the fourth Parliament, like the first and the second and the third, began its proceedings by declaring that before anything else was done their grievances must be remedied.
The king, in his anger, dissolved Parliament on May 5th, after a session of twenty-three days, and once more tried to rule as a despotic sovereign. As before, Charles looked to Laud and Wentworth, who had now been made Earl of Strafford, as his two chief advisers. They showed once more that their advice and actions were more dangerous than helpful to the king. Laud, who had long been hated by the Puritans, now gave bitter offence to all who were supporters of the Parliament by declaring that it was not only contrary to the law but that it was wickcd and a sin against God to resist the king, whatever he did. Englishmen were indignant when told that they were committing a sin when obeying the law of the land as made by Parliament.
Nor did Strafford succeed any better in winning friends to the king. He had been sent to Ireland as Lord Deputy, or Governor; and acting on behalf of the king, and with the kindgs consent, he had governed Ireland as a despot, paying no attention either to Parliament or the law. Strafford's well-known motto was the word "Thorough," and whatever he undertook he certainly did thoroughly. It is not hard to find excuses for the things which he did in Ireland, for the country was really in a terrible state. The Irish Parliament had no power, and the law was openly disregarded. Strafford was determined that, whatever else happened, order should be restored; and, though the methods by which he governed the country were cruel and despotic, he certainly did succeed in restoring peace and in bringing Ireland once more under the government of the king.
But in order to do this he was compelled to raise and train an army in Ireland, and this proved to be the cause of his downfall. His enemies in England felt that if the king could once obtain the help of a victorious general, with a strong, well-disciplined army, he would soon be able to crush Parliament and to rule as he pleased. They, therefore, looked anxiously for an opportunity to destroy Strafford's power. It was not long before the opportunity came. The Scots still remained in arms upon the Border, and at last actually crossed it and marched into Northumberland and Durham. The king was really at a loss what to do. He had no troops, and could raise none without money.
The Long Parliament. (Ch 53)
"Put not thy trust in princes." -- Words used by Strafford on hearing that the king had abandoned him.
Once more Charles was compelled to summon Parliament. The fifth and last Parliament of Charles I. met on November 3rd, 1640. This famous Parliament, known as the "Long Parliament" sat for no less than nineteen years and four months. It began its life as a powerful and respected body, and it ended its days powerless and despised; but during its existence it did a great work.
The very first thing which the new Parliament did was to make a fierce attack upon the two great enemies of its liberties -- Strafford and Laud. There were two ways in which Parliament might punish a man. The one was to "Impeach" him; the other, to bring against him a "Bill of Attainder." When a man was impeached, the House of Commons brought charges against him before the House of Lords. The House of Lords sat as judges and tried the accused person. A "Bill of Attainder" was a bill brought into one of the Houses of Parliament, passed through both Houses, and agreed to by the king; it then became an Act like any other Act of Parliament, and had to be obeyed as part of the law. In a Bill of Attainder the person accused was declared to be guilty of certain crimes, and it was enacted that he should be punished for them in a certain way. The punishment was generally death.
Out of the two ways open to them of attacking Strafford, the House of Commons chose the first. They impeached him of high treason before the House of Lords. They said that he had acted contrary to law in Ireland -- that he had raised an army, and that he had offered to bring the army into England to put down Parliament. Strafford defended himself bravely. He proved that what he had done, he had done not only with the consent but with the approval of the king. He denied that he had intended to bring an army into England.
The Commons soon found that they were not likely to prove their case, and, fearing lest Strafford should escape, they suddenly changed their plan and brought in a Bill of Attainder against the earl in the House of Commons. The Bill was carried by a large majority. The House of Lords also passed it. One thing only was needed to make the Bill law and to insure the death of Strafford. That one thing was the consent of the king. To his everlasting shame Charles gave his consent and signed his name, knowing that by doing so he was sacrificing the life of one of the most faithful servants he had ever had. The terrible penalty was carried out. In the report of the State Trials we read how an order was sent to the Constable of the Tower to deliver over the "bright Execution Ax," and on May 12th, 1641, Strafford was beheaded.
Encouraged by their success, the House of Commons now impeached Laud. He was removed from the office which he held, but nothing further was done to him at the time. Bills were brought into the House, the object of which was to punish all those who had assisted the king in his illegal actions. Some of them were passed. The collection of "ship-money" was declared illegal. The judges who had declared the contrary were impeached. The Court of Star-Chamber and other similar courts were abolished. A Bill was passed providing that a Parliament should be held every three years, [The "Triennial Bill."] and a Bill was actually passed by which the king was forbidden to dissolve Parliament without its own consent.
The Arrest of the Five Members. (Ch 53)
"Privilege! Privilege!"
The long struggle between the King and Commons had now come to the stage when it could no longer be continued without war. It soon became clear that if the king had consented to the new Bills, it was only because he had felt himself compelled to do so by force and had no intention of keeping his promises when free from restraint. Charles saw plainly that if he were to get his own way it could only be by force of arms. He had lost so many friends by his tyranny and faithlessness, that he felt it was high time to make some new friends who would stand by him in the time of trouble.
It was in Scotland that he hoped to find them. Nor was he disappointed. He went to Edinburgh, and succeeded, by promises, favours, and rewards, in winning a large party in Scotland to his side. Strengthened by his new friendships, he returned to London. The Londoners welcomed him loyally, but the House of Commons distrusted him, and not without reason; for they had learnt that while in Scotland he had been planning how to punish the members who had taken part against him.
Nor were the fear and distrust felt by the Commons diminished when the king took away the guards who had hitherto protected Parliament from violence. Once more a statement of the grievances of Parliament, and of all the wrongs which had been done during the reign, was drawn up by the Commons, and, after a stormy debate, was passed and presented to the king.
Meanwhile the feeling between the two parties -- the king's party and the party of the Parliament -- was growing more bitter every day. There were riots in London, and the members declared that their lives were in danger from the king's friends when they went to Westminster. The king bade them "have no fear." He said he would himself protect them, and that "he would solemnly engage, on the word of a king, the security of every one of them from violence." On the very same day it was seen what was the value of the King's promise. On that day (4th of January, 1642) six members of Parliament -- Lord Kimbolton, in the House of Lords, Pym, Hampden, Hazelrig, Holies, and Strode, in the Commons -- were charged by the king with High Treason,
The king himself actually came down to the House with a guard of soldiers to arrest the members. He left his soldiers outside the door, and entered the House of Commons. Then there followed a strange and memorable scene.
"By your leave, Mr. Speaker," said the king to Speaker Lenthall, "I must borrow your chair a little"; and Charles took his seat in the Speaker's chair, Lenthall kneeling before him, and the members standing with their hats off. Then the king told the house what he had come for -- that those who were to be arrested were guilty of High Treason, and that he came to know if they were there. He looked round the House, but none of the accused were in their places. They had received warning in time and had kept away.
The king asked the Speaker where the missing members were. Lenthall, on his knees, replied that he had "neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak but as the House directed." "Well," said the king, "since I see all the birds are flown, I do expect, as soon as they return, you do send them to me"; and, mortified and angry, he left the House, the members, as he went, calling out "Privilege! Privilege!" by which they meant that the king had acted contrary to the Rights and Privileges of the House.
But one more step remained to be taken before the long quarrel ended in war. The Commons, anxious for their own safety, claimed the right to appoint officers for the militia. The king at once refused the request, and the Commons as promptly took steps to appoint the officers without the king's consent. It was now clear that nothing could settle the differences between the two parties but war, and preparations were at once made on both sides for fighting the battle out.
Both king and Parliament began to raise troops and to collect ammunition. On the 23rd of April, 1642 (St. George's Day), the first act of civil war took place. On that day Sir John Hotham, who was in command at Hull, refused to obey the king's order to give up the arms and magazines stored in the town, and shut the gates against the king.
Chapter 54. How Parliament Punished the King. 1642-1649.
War.
"Is it peace or war? better, war! loud war by land and by sea;
War with a thousand battles and shaking a hundred thrones."
-- Tennyson: "Maud."
And now we have come to the end of the second, and to the beginning of the third, part of the great struggle between Charles and Parliament; and the interest which has hitherto been confined to the walls of the House of Commons is now transferred to the camp and the battle-field.
On the 22nd of August, 1642, Charles raised his royal standard at Nottingham. The flag was blown down, and had to be set up again. Some declared that this was a bad sign for the king's cause. The royal army was under the command of the king himself and of the Earl of Lindsay, a Scottish general. The king's nephews, Rupert and Maurice, came over from Germany, longing to win glory in the war, and were given commands in the cavalry. At the head of the Parliamentary army was the Earl of Essex, and under him was an officer who played so great a part in the war that followed, that we must stop, for a moment to speak about him.
Among the members who had been elected to the third Parliament of King Charles's reign was a gentleman from Huntingdon, who sat as member for the town in which he lived. His name was Oliver Cromwell, and when he entered Parliament he was twenty-nine years of age. He was the son of Robert and Elizabeth Cromwell, who were well-to-do East-country people. He had been brought up at Huntingdon School, and had been to college at the University of Cambridge. In his twenty-second year he married Elizabeth Bourchier, and lived on his own property, farming the land. He was a good rider, fond of sports, active, and strong both in mind and body. He was elected in 1629 for Cambridge, and took a great part in the work of the "Long Parliament" He was now given the command of the Train-bands, or "Town Militia" who had been called out to serve the Parliament.
There is not room in this little book to tell at any length the story of the Civil War between the king and Parliament the Cavaliers and Roundheads. Many books have been written giving accounts of the battles, the sieges, and the marches. It was a terrible war, as every civil war must be. Families were divided, brothers sometimes fought on different sides, and English blood was shed by English hands.
The first part of the war was favourable to the king. This was, indeed, to be expected. There were very few regular soldiers in England, and most of those who there were had joined the king. Then, again, the Cavaliers were for the most part gentlemen who had been accustomed to use their swords, were good riders, and who were by their training taught that it was disgraceful to show fear. They had with them, too, soldiers like Prince Rupert and his brother Prince Maurice, who had been brought up in the midst of war, and to whom fighting was a very familiar occupation.
The Royalists also had what seemed another great advantage in having one man at the head of their party to whom all could look, and who could give orders which everyone was bound to obey. Nothing makes an army so strong in war as having a head who is obeyed by all, and who gives wise orders to those under him. Unfortunately for the Cavaliers, King Charles turned out to be a very bad head for his party, and he managed so badly that he gave time to his enemies to choose out among themselves a really great leader, for whom Charles was no match at all.
But at the beginning of the war the Parliamentary army was under great disadvantages. It was made up of men who were for the most part quite unaccustomed to fighting, and many of whom had never handled a sword or a musket. Some of the soldiers were brave enough, but it has always been found in war that bravery alone is not sufficient to secure victory. Discipline and practice are also needed, and the Parliamentary troops were at first without either discipline or practice.
There was also another thing which gave an advantage to the Cavaliers at first. Among the gentlemen who followed King Charles there was not one who would not have considered it disgraceful to show cowardice in battle. Many of them were bad men, and lived careless, useless lives; but when they came to fighting there is no doubt that they had an advantage over the lawyers, shopkeepers, and labourers, who had never cared for fighting or made it the chief end of their lives. Many of the Cavaliers, at the beginning of the war fought for "Honour." Honour is not the best thing to fight for; but the man who fights for honour will generally be a better soldier than a man who fights merely because he is paid to fight; and at the beginning of the war, a great many of the Parliamentary soldiers only fought because they were paid to do so.
It was not till there arose in the Parliamentary army soldiers who fought for something better than honour -- namely, Religion and Duty, that the Parliamentary troops became victorious. We shall see how in time Oliver Cromwell raised up a body of soldiers who fought for religion and duty, and who had also learnt discipline and the use of their arms, and how this new force carried all before it.
The first battle was fought at Edgehill, near Banbury, on the 23rd of October, 1642. The king's troops got the best of the day. Many of the Roundhead soldiers ran away without fighting; and if Prince Rupert had not been too keen in his pursuit of those who fled, the king would have won a great victory. Cromwell, with his soldier's eye, saw that if his party were going to win it must have better tools than these runaway soldiers. "It is plain," said he to his friend John Hampden, "that men of religion are wanted to withstand these gentlemen of honour." It was feared that the king would advance upon London; and the royal army actually got so far as Brentford, ten miles from London; but at the last moment the king determined to fall back upon Oxford.
England had now begun to divide itself into two parts. The West and South-west for the most part, went with the king. The Eastern Counties were mostly for the Parliament. The counties of Cambridge, Suffolk, Norfolk, Essex, and Hertford, and later on Huntingdon and Lincoln, formed themselves into a league against the king. This league was called "The Association," and Cromwell succeeded in making it a strong and united body.
Cromwell and the "Ironsides." (Ch 54)
"But hark! what means this trampling of horsemen on our rear?
Whose banner do I see, boys? 'Tis he, thank God, 'tis he, boys!
Bear up another moment, brave Oliver is here."
"With heads all stooping low, with points all in a row,
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dikes,
Our Cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the accurst,
And with one blast have scattered the forest of his pikes."
-- Macaulay: "Naseby."
In the year 1643 things went badly with the Parliament. Their troops were defeated in many places, and one of the best men in the party lost his life. This was John Hampden, whose death took place during a small skirmish at Chalgrove Field, near Oxford. It is said that he was killed by the explosion of his own pistol, which had been loaded with two charges by mistake.
Matters looked so bad for the cause of Parliament that the leaders now looked about for fresh allies, and succeeded in persuading the Scottish Covenanters to aid them with an army of over 20,000 men. And now at last the fortune of war began to turn for the first time against King Charles. Gloucester, which was besieged by the royal troops, was relieved by the Parliamentary general, the Earl of Essex. A drawn battle was fought at Newbury, in Berkshire, in which one of the best and wisest of the king's advisers -- the good and brave Lord Falkland lost his life.
In his great "History of the Rebellion," Clarendon thus describes the beautiful character of his friend Falkland. -- "That little person and small stature was quickly found to contain a great heart, * a courage so keen, and a nature so fearless that no composition of the strongest limbs and most harmonious and proportioned presence and strength ever more disposed any man to the greatest enterprise; it being his greatest weakness to be too solicitous for such adventures. His disposition and nature were so gentle and obliging, so much delighted in courtesy, kindness and generosity, that all mankind could not but admire and love him."
[* Due to a typo, this originally said "was quickly found to contain a gnat heart." The copy editor was amused enough at the relevance of this chance error to leave a record of it in the form of a footnote.]
While the Parliament sought help from the Scottish Covenanters, the king succeeded in raising troops among his friends, both in Scotland and Ireland; and thus the Civil War spread further and further over England, Scotland, and Ireland. In 1644 Lord Fairfax, a Yorkshireman and a member of the Long Parliament, was in command of the Parliamentary army in the north of England, and under him was General Cromwell, commanding a regiment of horse. We have already seen what kind of men General Cromwell wanted to have under his command. He wanted men of "honour" and "religion." He had now got what he wanted; and for the first time Prince Rupert and his Cavaliers found themselves face to face with an enemy who was more than a match for them.
Towards the end of the year 1643 Cromwell had written a letter to two friends in Cambridge, in which he spoke of a success which had been won by some of the cavalry under his command. He writes: "God hath given the victory to our handful; let us endeavour to keep it. I had rather have a plain russet-coated captain that knows what he fights for, and loves what he knows, than that which you call a 'gentleman' and is nothing else. I honour a gentleman that is so, indeed"; and in another part of the letter he says: "I beseech you be careful what captains of horse you choose what men be mounted; a few honest men are better than numbers."
Cromwell was not the man to give advice to others without following his own precepts. He had already raised a "handful" of troopers -- honest men, who knew what they fought for, and loved what they knew; and from this "handful" grew the famous regiment of cavalry known as Cromwell's Ironsides -- men who were never beaten, who cut their way to victory on every English battlefield, and who, when war was over in England and when they were forced to take service in foreign lands, were admitted by the best soldiers in Europe to be the most formidable cavalry the world had ever seen.
The Ironsides were taken, for the most part, from among the Independents. The Independents were men who went even further than the Presbyterians, and most of the Parliamentary party, in their hatred of the bishops and the king; and many of them were Republicans, who wished to see the country governed without a king at all. Those of them who served in Cromwell's regiment of "Ironsides" were men of very strict religious views. The Bible was constantly read in the regiments, both in camp and in the field. Both officers and men believed that in fighting against the king they were fighting against the enemies of God. Many of them took fresh names, chosen from the Old Testament, and some made up strange names out of texts of Scripture, such as "Corporal of Horse Ebenezer Rest-in-the-Lord," "Sergeant O-be-thankful Johnson," or "Trooper Solomon Praise God."
It must not be supposed, however, that either their religion or their belief in their cause would have made the Ironsides into good soldiers if they had not learnt the duties of a soldier. Cromwell knew this well enough, and he took pains to instruct his men in the very best drill which was then known in Europe. The men were well mounted on stout horses, and knew how to ride. They wore buff leather coats, iron helmets and breastplates, and long leather boots. They carried heavy, straight swords, which they knew well how to use. They were under very strict discipline, and were as fine a body of horsemen as ever served under any general.
It was not long before the Royalists found out what sort of men they had to deal with. On the 3rd of July, 1644, a battle took place at Marston Moor, in Yorkshire. For the first time Cromwell's new cavalry took part in a great battle. The king's troops were unable to stand up against them. "The Left Wing, which I commanded," writes Cromwell after the battle, "being our own horse . . . beat all the Prince's Horse. [Prince Rupert.] God made them as stubble to our swords. We charged their regiments of foot with our horse, and routed all we charged." The battle of Marston Moor made Fairfax (son of the Lord Fairfax already mentioned, the Parliamentary general) master of the north of England, but everyone knew that the victory was due to Cromwell.
The Rise of the "Independents" and the "New Model." (Ch 54)
"Put your trust in God and keep your powder dry." -- Cromwell's advice to his soldiers.
Up to this time there had been only two parties -- one for the king, the other for the Parliament; but a new party now began to grow up, which in the end became more powerful than either of the others. This was the "Independent Party" which was really the party of the Army. It is not hard to see how the Independent party won its power. A large body of men like the House of Commons is well fitted to hold great debates and to make laws. In time of peace it may even be able to govern the country; but in time of war, especially in time of civil war, it will almost always happen that if those who are more accustomed to talking than to fighting and acting, try to carry on the war themselves, they will fail in the attempt. Those who have really to act and to do the fighting are sure to become the most powerful party in the country, and the leaders of such a party will soon object to being interfered with by those who talk and pass resolutions, but do not risk their lives on the battlefield.
And so it was in the quarrel between the king and Parliament. The leaders of the Army soon began to feel their power, and the better and more successful the Army was, the greater its power became. Hence, before long, there grew up great differences of opinion between the members of the Parliament, who were mostly Presbyterians, and the chiefs of the Army, many of whom were Independents. The first sign of this quarrel was seen in the year 1645, when it was proposed that no member of Parliament should be allowed to keep his place as an officer in the Army.
This proposal was agreed to. It was known as the "Self-denying Ordinance," because it was supposed that the members had of their own will denied themselves the right of serving in both the Army and in Parliament. Cromwell, who had now been made a major-general, was very pleased with the result, because it took away from the Army Essex and some other officers who were above him in rank, and under whom he did not wish to serve.
Cromwell, however, had no intention of either going out of Parliament or out of the Army. An exception was made in his favour on account of the good service he had done, and he was allowed both to keep his seat in Parliament and his post as Major-General. Fairfax was made General-in-Chief, and Cromwell was given command of the cavalry. Now that the soldiers had got the Army to themselves, they set to work to improve it. It was made into an army much more like the regular armies which are kept up in our own time. Proper regiments were formed, and men served for a fixed time, and were regularly drilled and paid. Proper discipline was observed. The Army, thus improved, was known as the "New Model." Both the king's party and the Parliament were now more inclined for peace than they had been before, and, if it had not been for the "New Model" army, peace might perhaps have been made.
But Charles, learning that there was a division between his enemies, put an end to the negotiations which had been begun, and the war went on, In Scotland the Earl of Montrose headed the king's party. The Marquis of Argyle, the head of the great clan of the Campbells, was the chief leader on the Parliamentary side. There was fierce fighting, and for a time the king's party got rather the best of it.
But a great blow was awaiting the royal cause in England. On the 14th of June, 1645, was fought the battle of Naseby, in Northamptonshire. The "New Model" army was for the first time employed. The victory of Fairfax and Cromwell was complete: the king's army was broken and destroyed; no less than 1,000 of the royal troops were killed and wounded, and 5,000 taken prisoners.
It was in this year (1645) that Archbishop Laud, who had been imprisoned since his trial in 1641, was executed.
The King's Crown Goes Down. (Ch 54)
"Kings with their armies did flee and were discomfited." -- Psalm Ixviii. 12.
From this time forward the royal cause suffered defeat in almost every part of the kingdom. Fairfax relieved Taunton, and stormed Bridgwater and Bristol; Montrose was defeated in Scotland; the royal troops in Cornwall, who had hitherto held their own, were dispersed; and finally, Oxford, in which the king had so long held his Court, surrendered to General Fairfax in June, 1646.
The king was beaten in the field. The only hope left to him was to try to win by craft what he could not win by war. He made offers separately to Parliament and to the heads of the Army, hoping that he could persuade either the one or the other to act alone, and thus raise a quarrel. But the plan failed. In despair, he decided to trust himself to the Scots, and fled to the Scottish army, which at that time had marched as far south as Newark, in Nottinghamshire. To the Scots he made all manner of promises if only they would desert the cause of the Parliament. But once more his efforts failed. Parliament undertook to pay £400,000 to the Scottish army if they would go back into Scotland and give up the king. The Scots took the money, withdrew to Newcastle, and on the 30th of January, 1647, handed over King Charles to his enemies.
The king was taken a prisoner to Holmby House, in Northamptonshire. At first it seemed as if Charles would be more dangerous as a prisoner than he had been when free, for already many of the Presbyterian party in Parliament, who were afraid of the Independents and of the Army, were ready to make terms with him; but the Army was by no means ready to lose its prisoner, and an officer of cavalry, Cornet Joyce by name, settled the question in a rough-and-ready way by riding up to Holmby House with 500 troopers, and taking the king off to Newmarket.
The quarrel between the Presbyterians and the Independents grew sharper than ever, but the king was now a safe prisoner in the hands of the latter. Orders were given to the Army to march to London. Their advance greatly frightened the Presbyterian party. They feared for the safety of Parliament, and were even afraid for their own lives. At one time they thought of raising soldiers to protect themselves, but they found they were not strong enough to do so, and that the Londoners would not stand by them; and in August, 1647, the Army marched into London.
The Independents were now masters of the situation, and the Independents hated the king. What is more, they knew that they had no mercy to expect from him in case he once more got the upper hand. It was Charles's misfortune that he could get no one to trust his word, but it was a misfortune which he had brought upon himself, for he had so often deceived and betrayed his best friends, that it was not wonderful his enemies should distrust him. Charles well knew the danger he was in.
He had been taken from Newmarket to Hampton Court, but at the end of November, 1647, he succeeded in escaping, and fled to Carisbrooke Castle, in the Isle of Wight. While there he tried to induce the Scots to help him once more, and he did all he could to increase the number of his friends in England. His efforts met with some success. The Scottish Parliament actually decided to send an army into England, and the king's friends, among whom there were now many of the Presbyterians, rose in arms.
The Independents and the heads of the Army saw very plainly that they must either put down their new enemies at once, or must themselves be in great danger of destruction. They decided to act with vigour and promptitude. Fairfax defeated the king's friends in Kent. Cromwell and General Lambert destroyed the Scottish army at Preston. Charles's last hope was now gone. He tried to escape from Carisbrooke, as he had succeeded in doing from Hampton Court, but was prevented, and was shut up in a strong prison at Hurst Castle, in Hampshire, just opposite the Isle of Wight.
The Army at last was victorious over all its enemies, and the leaders of the Army were now determined upon a step which they thought would enable them to keep their power. The Army had been made by the Parliament, and it had declared that it was in the cause of Parliament it had fought. But the time had now come when it was to strike a terrible blow against the very Parliament to which it owed its existence. The majority in the House of Commons voted in favour of coming to an agreement with the king. The heads of the Army were determined that no such agreement should be come to.
On the 6th of December, 1648, Colonel Pride, with a party of cavalry soldiers, marched down to the House of Commons, and, standing at the door, ordered his troopers to arrest the members of the Presbyterian party as they came out. Those who were arrested were hurried off to prison. And thus we see that, within six years of the time when Charles had brought about civil war by trying to arrest five members of the House of Commons, a military officer belonging to that very army which Parliament had created arrested not only five but over fifty members within the very walls of Parliament, and with no other authority than the sword by his side.
This violent act of Colonel Pride's was called "Pride's Purge," for it was said that he had purged the evil out of the House of Commons. About fifty members only remained in the House of Commons, all of them Independents, and ready to do exactly what the Army ordered them to do. These remaining members were called the "Rump," and for five years to come the "Rump" were the only representatives of the Commons of England.
The Death of the King. (Ch 54)
"It is ordered That the Officers of the Ordnance within the Tower of London, or any other Officer or Officers of the Store within the said Tower, in whose hands and custody the bright execution Ax for the executing Malefactors is, do forthwith deliver unto Edward Dendy, Esq., Sergeant-at-Arms attending this Court, or his Deputy, or Deputies, the said Ax. And for their, or either of their, so doing this shall be their warrant." -- Order sent by the High Court to Colonel John White, Governor of the Tower ("State Trials").
The leaders of the Army now were free to carry out their will with respect to the king, and their will and intention was that he should die. Charles was brought up under a guard from Hurst Castle to Whitehall. A Bill was passed declaring that it was High Treason to make war upon Parliament, and a High Court of Justice was appointed to try the question of whether the king had been guilty of high treason or not.
On the 20th of January, 1649, the High Court was called together, and Bradshaw, a lawyer, was put at the head of it. Charles was brought before his judges. He at once declared that the Court had no right whatever to try him, and there can be no doubt at all that, according to the law of England, he was perfectly correct, and that it had not the least right to do so. It must not be forgotten, however, that Charles himself had frequently broken the law, and that, for a long time past, force and not law had ruled in England.
The trial took place in Westminster Hall. A full account of it has come down to us. There is not room here to give this full account, but it is well to know what were the charges which were brought against the King of England. This was the charge as Bradshaw spoke it: "Charles Stuart, King of England. The Commons of England, being deeply sensible of the calamities that have been brought upon this nation, which are fixed upon you as the principal author of them, have resolved to make inquisition for blood; and according to that debt and due they owe to justice, to God, the kingdom, and themselves, they have resolved to bring you to trial and judgment; and for that purpose have constituted this High Court of Justice before which you are brought."
The trial lasted several days. Charles bore himself with courage and dignity. The eyes of all men were fixed upon him in his last hours, and pity and admiration for his courage won him and his cause many friends and made many who had been his enemies forget their enmity. But from the beginning the Court had made up its mind as to its sentence, and Bradshaw read that sentence in these words: "That the Court, being satisfied in conscience that he, Charles Stuart, is guilty of the crimes of which he hath been accused, doth adjudge him as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy to the good people of the nation, to be put to death by severing his head from his body." The same warrant was sent to the Governor of the Tower as had been sent before Strafford's death, but this time it was to order the Governor to "deliver up the bright ax" for the execution of Strafford's master, Charles himself.
The king was sent a prisoner to St. James's Palace, where two of his children, Henry and Elizabeth, were allowed to visit him. A touching account is given of the king's last parting from his children. On the 30th of January, when the snow was on the ground, the king, attended by Juxon, Bishop of London, was taken to the place of execution outside the Banqueting Hall, Whitehall.
[The Banqueting Hall afterwards became the Chapel Royal, Whitehall, but is now occupied by the Royal United Service Institution.]
From the scaffold Charles spoke to those who could hear him. At the last moment Juxon said to him: "There is but one stage more, which though turbulent and troublesome, is yet a very short one. Consider it will carry you a great way even from earth to heaven." "I go," replied the king, "from a corruptible crown to an incorruptible, where no disturbance can take place."
He laid his head upon the block, and the executioner severed it at one stroke. Holding up the head in one hand, he cried, "Here is the head of a traitor!" The Army had triumphed, and their enemy was dead, but in his death he had done them more harm than he could do in his life. Bradshaw and his friends might look upon the king as a "Traitor" but now that he was gone, the people of England began to look upon him as a "Martyr," and it might truly be said of him that "nothing in his life became him like the leaving of it." From that day forward the Royalist party, though defeated and powerless for a time, became stronger, till at last it became once more the strongest party in the land.
Chapter 55. The Commonwealth of England. 1649-1660.
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Principal events during the period of the Commonwealth: |
The Commons Triumphant. (Ch 55)
"Down, down, for-ever down with the mitre and the crown.
* * ** * * *
. . . the kings of earth in fear shall shudder when they hear
What the hand of God hath wrought for the Houses and the Word."
-- Macaulay. (Supposed to be spoken by Obadiah Bind-their-kings-in-chains-and-their-nobles-with-links-of-iron, sergeant in Ireton's regiment.)
We now come to a very interesting and important part in the history of England. It deals with the eleven years which passed between the execution of Charles I., in 1649, and the restoration of his son Charles II., in the year 1660. The period is known as that of the Commonwealth.
We may learn two useful lessons from what took place during these eleven years. In the first place, we may learn how great a work may be done by a strong resolute Englishman who believes in the cause for which he fights, and who has the power to carry out his will. In the second place, we may learn how impossible it is even for the greatest and strongest of men to govern the people of England for long against their will, and how a government which is built upon force alone is certain to fail at length in a country in which people have for centuries been accustomed to freedom.
On the death of Charles it seemed as if the party of the Independents were all-powerful in the land. All the chief commands in the Army were held by them, and the strongest and most feared of all the chiefs of the Army was Oliver Cromwell, who was himself one of the leaders of the party. There was, indeed, no force in the kingdom which was able to stand up against the victorious Army. The king's eldest son Charles, Prince of Wales had now become king by right on the death of his father, but he was only nineteen years old, and not to be feared. It was, however, declared by Parliament that to speak of him or to proclaim him as king was high treason. Having put to death one king and having declared it high treason to proclaim another, the House of Commons, or what was left of it, now turned its attention to the House of Lords.
The greater number of the members of the House of Lords had supported the king throughout the war. Only a few had remained in their places, and the House had ceased to have any power at all. The House of Commons decided to abolish it, and on February 6th, 1649, the "Rump" voted, by 44 votes to 29, that "the House of Peers in Parliament is useless and dangerous, and ought to be abolished." An Act was afterwards passed to abolish the House of Lords. It was plainly impossible, however, to go on making laws for long when there was neither a king nor a House of Lords, and when the House of Commons numbered under a hundred members, all belonging to one party. It was decided, therefore, to recall some of the members of the Long Parliament who had been turned out, and the number of the House of Commons was thus raised to 150.
Another Act of Parliament was now passed declaring that England was no longer a kingdom, but was for ever afterwards to be a Republic. A Council of State of forty-one members was appointed to carry on the Government. Oliver Cromwell, Hazelrig, Skippon, Hutchinson, all of them soldiers, were among the principal members. John Milton, the great poet who wrote "Paradise Lost," was made Secretary to the Council. A number of the chief Royalists were tried for the part they had taken in the war, and several were executed.
Cromwell in Ireland. (Ch 55)
"O my poor Kingdom, sick with civil blows."
-- Shakespeare: "Henry IV.," Pt. II., Act IV., Scene 4.
Now that the new Government had been set up, and had got rid of its worst enemies, it was time to set to work to restore peace and order and to carry on the business of the country. Ireland was the first place which required attention. There were many in Ireland who were always enemies to the English Government, and there were also the king's friends in that country. These two parties were now united in arms against the Parliament. It was decided to send over Cromwell, as Lord Lieutenant, with an army to put down all disorder.
In August, 1649, Cromwell sailed from Bristol to take the command in Ireland. He had already become the most powerful man in England, and he was not slow to show by outward signs that he knew how great and important a person he had become. He drove to Bristol in state in a coach-and-six, with eighty Life Guards in rich uniforms surrounding his carriage. Trumpets were sounded before him. Already some men began to think that they had only got rid of one king to set up another.
Of this opinion were the "Levellers," a party in the Army who did not think that the Independents had gone far enough, and who were ready to destroy any other thing besides the Crown and the House of Lords. They wanted to pull down or level everything, and for this reason they were known as "Levellers." So powerful had the Levellers become that, when the regiments were ordered to start for Ireland, they succeeded in creating a mutiny, which was only put down with some difficulty by Fairfax and Cromwell.
There is not space here to tell the story of Cromwell's war in Ireland at any length. It was a war carried on with great severity and often with great cruelty, and, like all civil wars, it left behind very bitter memories. From first to last, however, Cromwell showed himself a skilful general and a most resolute soldier. When he landed in Ireland, only two places in the whole island, Dublin and Londonderry, still held out for the Parliament, and everywhere the Protestants -- who had favoured the cause of Parliament -- were in danger of being plundered and of losing their lives.
Cromwell's campaign was short but decisive. The troops he had with him were the Roundhead soldiers, who had been taught to conquer upon the battlefields of Marston Moor and Naseby. Their discipline was good and their training was good. Neither the Royalists nor their Irish allies could resist them. The Marquis of Ormond advanced with a royal army upon Dublin. Cromwell attacked him and destroyed his army at the village of Rathmines, just outside Dublin. Marching northward, Cromwell laid siege to Drogheda, a town on the Boyne. On September 11th he stormed the town at the head of his troops. The garrison were treated as rebels taken in arms, and were put to death. Londonderry was relieved.
Wexford was summoned to surrender. The governor refused. Cromwell sent a message to tell him he must take the consequences. The town was stormed and taken, and the garrison, like that of Drogheda, put to the sword. Kilkenny and Clomnel were taken early in the next year (1650). Waterford alone held out. In ten months Cromwell had re-conquered Ireland for the Parliament, and in the summer of 1650 he was able to obey the order of the Council to return to Great Britain, where his services were now greatly needed.
Dunbar and Worcester. (Ch 55)
"With the rest of the horse, and nine regiments of foot -- most of them of your old foot and horse -- I am hasting up; and shall, by the Lord's help, use utmost diligence. I hope I have left a commanding force under Lieutenant-General Monck in Scotland. This account I thought it my duty to speed to you; and rest -- Your most humble servant, Oliver Cromwell," -- Letter from Cromwell to Speaker Lenthall, written from Leith before the battle of Worcester, 4th of August, 1651.
Although Parliament had declared that the young Charles Stuart was not to be called a "king," and had made it high treason to speak of him as such, the Royalists had never for a moment ceased to think and speak of him as Charles the Second. After his father's death, and after the defeat of his friends in England, the young king had tried his fortunes in Scotland. At first he met with nothing but disaster. The Marquis of Montrose had collected a small army, with which he advanced against the Covenanters. He was, however, defeated, his army was dispersed, and he himself was taken prisoner. On May 21st, 1650, he was hanged at Edinburgh as a traitor by his bitter enemies the Covenanters.
Charles saw that his old friends the Cavaliers were, for the time, at any rate, unable to serve him to any purpose; he therefore looked about for new and more powerful allies, and went so far as to enter into an agreement with the Covenanters, who had so long been his enemies, and who had sold his father to the English army. He declared that Montrose had fought without his orders and contrary to his wish, a declaration which was altogether untrue. He signed the Covenant, gave a promise that the Scottish Church should be governed according to its own rules, and that he himself would rule Scotland only with the consent and by the advice of the Scottish Parliament.
The English Parliament and the Council of State saw that it would be dangerous to allow this new alliance between the king whom they had dethroned and the Covenanters to grow any stronger. It was decided to attack the new enemy at once, and it was in order that he might take charge of the army which was to invade Scotland that Cromwell had been recalled from Ireland. Cromwell marched across the Border in July, 1650, at the head of an army of 16,000 men. The skill which he had shown as a general in Ireland did not forsake him in Scotland. On September 3rd he routed the Scottish army at Dunbar, a town lying on the Firth of Forth, to the south-east of Edinburgh. Edinburgh itself was taken a few days later, and the danger from Scotland was at an end for a time.
Cromwell moved northward in order to make sure of the submission of the counties of Perthshire and Fifeshire; but as he marched North, Charles took the opportunity to hasten South, and, to the surprise and alarm of Parliament, news was received that the king had entered England and was marching towards London. Cromwell was immediately ordered to return, and at length overtook the royal army at Worcester. On September 3rd, 1651, was fought the battle of Worcester, the last battle of any importance in the Civil War. Once more Cromwell and his seasoned troops proved victorious, the royal army was defeated, and Charles was forced to fly, escaping with difficulty from the close pursuit of his enemies.
The fugitive king had many adventures, and ran many risks of being taken, and at one time the pursuers came so close that he was forced to take refuge in the thick branches of an oak tree. Hidden by the close screen of leaves, he escaped discovery; and, in after years, it became the fashion among loyal people to commemorate the king's escape by wearing an oak leaf or an oak apple on "Oak-apple Day."
At last Charles succeeded, after more than six weeks' wanderings, in reaching the coast of France in safety.
The Quarrel with the Dutch. (Ch 55)
"To be master of the sea is an abridgment of monarchy." -- Bacon's Essays.
Cromwell, the victor of Dunbar and Worcester, was now, beyond all doubt, master of the three kingdoms. The Irish revolt had been put down; Scotland was now quiet under the strong rule of General Monk, whom Cromwell had left in the country with an army of 5,000 men after the victory of Dunbar. In England all open resistance had been put an end to by the destruction of the last Royalist army at Worcester. It was fortunate for England that at this time the Government had fallen into the hands of a strong man, for, although peace had been restored for the time at home, there soon came an alarm of danger from abroad.
The kings and princes of Europe looked with fear and dislike upon the new Commonwealth, or Republic, of England, and the execution of King Charles I. had shocked and alarmed the friends of royalty throughout Europe. Moreover, the Royalists who had been compelled to fly from England to escape the vengeance of the Parliament, naturally did all they could to turn the governments of foreign countries against those whom they described as lawless and tyrannical men and who had now become masters of England.
Even in countries which had generally been friendly to England a hostile feeling now sprang up. The Dutch were Protestants, and many a time had the Dutch people received help from the English Protestants in their struggle for liberty. There was still a large party in Holland who, like the Independents in England, favoured a Republic, and this party was now on the side of the Parliament. But there was also a party which was by no means so friendly.
It is not hard to understand the causes which now made many of the Dutch enemies to the new Commonwealth of England. There were two reasons, very different from one another, both of which led to the same result. In the first place, it must not be forgotten that the family of the Prince of Orange, the most powerful and respected family in Holland, was related by marriage to the royal family of England. William II., Prince of Orange, who was at that time Stadtholder, or Prince of Holland, had married Mary, the daughter of Charles I. and the sister of Charles II. The young king had spent much of his time at the Dutch Court at The Hague, and, naturally, the family of the Prince of Orange were on the side of the king and opposed to the party who had put the late king to death. Here, then, was one reason why the Dutch -- or, at any rate, some of them -- should be enemies to the Parliament.
There was, however, another and a more important reason. The people of Holland, living on the sea and in a country cut up by broad rivers and by innumerable canals, were naturally a race of sailors. Surrounded by hostile nations, their only free outlet to the world was across the ocean. They had, therefore, become great builders of ships, and in these ships they carried on not only the trade of Holland but the trade of many European countries. The "red, white, and blue" of the Dutch flag was to be seen in every ocean -- in the East Indies, in the Mediterranean, at the Cape of Good Hope, and off the coast of North America. Of late, also, Dutch ships and Dutch sailors had been employed in carrying goods to and from our English ports.
But if the Dutch were a race of sailors, depending for their prosperity upon commerce and upon the sea, so also were the English. Since the great discoveries of Elizabeth's time, the trade of England had been growing fast, and English ships had already begun to compete with Dutch ships for the trade of the East and West Indies and of America.
The Dutch saw with alarm the rise of these formidable rivals, and their alarm was the greater because English ships of war had always claimed rights over all other ships in the English Channel, which they now seemed determined to enforce by arms if necessary. English ships of war had for centuries claimed the right to compel all foreign ships to salute them by lowering their topsails whenever they met in the narrow waters of the English Channel. Sometimes the English navy had not been strong enough to compel foreign ships to give this salute, but no English Government had ever failed to claim the right, and Cromwell was by no means less ready to make the claim than any king or queen.
The Dutch saw that their trade as the carriers of other people's goods was threatened, and they were determined to fight rather than allow it to be taken from them. They refused, moreover, to submit any longer to the claim of England to compel them to salute. They saw in such an act a sign of their own weakness, which they would not allow to continue any longer.
The Fight for the Carrying Trade. (Ch 55)
"He was the first man who declined the old track . . . and despised those rules which had long been in practice, to keep his ship and his men out of danger, which had been held in former times a point of great ability and circumspection; as if the principal art requisite in the captain of a ship had been to be sure to come home safe again." -- Clarendon: "Character of General Blake."
It was not long before the unfriendliness between England and Holland, which grew out of the causes which have just been described, led to open war. The English ambassador sent by the Parliament was murdered at The Hague, the seat of the Dutch Government. Parliament, justly offended, showed its anger in words which the Dutch considered to be insulting, and it was not long before Parliament added injury to insult. In October, 1651, it passed the famous "Navigation Act," which forbade any goods to be brought into England except in English ships. It was easy to see that this Act was passed solely for the purpose of doing harm to the Dutch, for the Dutch were really the only foreign ships which brought merchandise to England.
The Act, which lasted for many years, was of great importance to England. It helped to destroy the Dutch carrying trade, and gave to England by far the largest share of the carrying trade of the world. It has now been thought right to do away with the Act, and merchandise may be brought into this country by foreign ships.
There was one part of the Act, however, which some people wish had never been done away with. This was the part which declared that every English ship must carry as part of its crew a certain number of "boys apprenticed to the sea" for a fixed term of years. As long as this law lasted we were always sure to have a sufficient number of English sailors to man our ships both in peace and in war. Now, however, that the "Navigation Act" is no longer law, the practice of taking apprentices on British ships has gone out, and in consequence we find that of the crews of many British ships, fifty out of every hundred are foreigners. This is a great pity, and a very bad thing for the country.
But the first result of the "Navigation Act" was to make the Dutch exceedingly angry with England, and this new grievance, coming on the top of all the others, led to war between the two countries. Cromwell ordered his admirals and captains to make the Dutch ships in the Channel salute the English flag. The Dutch captains refused to obey the order, and fighting at once took place. The war which followed was a very fierce one; for on both sides there were very brave and skilful commanders, good seamen, and crews who showed most dogged courage in battle.
The Dutch admirals were Van Tromp and De Ruyter. Monk and Blake were the commanders on the English side. Both Monk and Blake were soldiers, and it seems strange to think of them taking command of a fleet at sea; but it was a custom of the time that soldiers should take command of fleets, and "General at-Sea" Blake did not fight the less well because he went to sea in full military uniform, including his top-boots. The navigation and sailing of the ships were intrusted to "Masters," but the generals took the lead in the fighting.
For some time it seemed uncertain which side would triumph. Blake defeated Van Tromp, but shortly afterwards Van Tromp turned the tables and beat Blake's fleet in a fierce action off the Naze, in Essex. So complete did the Dutch consider their victory to have been, that Van Tromp actually sailed the Channel with a broom at the masthead of his ship, as a sign that he had "swept the English from the Channel."
He had, however, boasted too soon. Within a few months Blake was at him again. A two days' battle was fought off Portland Bill, in which neither side gained much advantage; but in the following month -- June, 1653 -- an English fleet under Monk and Blake defeated and nearly destroyed the Dutch fleet under Van Tromp. In July Blake once more defeated his rival, who fell in the battle. The Dutch could keep up the struggle no longer, and in the year 1654 they made peace, admitted the right of the English flag to be saluted, and agreed to the "Navigation Act."
The End of the Long Parliament. (Ch 55)
"Not a dog barked at their going." Cromwell (On the Dissolution of the Long Parliament)
Now that the Government of the Commonwealth of England had shown that it was powerful enough to make itself respected, the number of its enemies abroad grew smaller; and those who had been ready to threaten, now thought twice before meddling with a power which had shown itself so strong. But though the Commonwealth of England was supposed at this time to be governed by Parliament -- or, rather, by the House of Commons, which was all that was left of Parliament -- the real power in the country had gone from the House of Commons and had fallen into the hands of Cromwell -- the "Lord-General," as he was now called.
The House of Commons, indeed, had few friends. The Army disliked and despised it; the Royalists, of course, hated it; and even the Presbyterians had long since ceased to respect it, or to wish it well. It had been necessary for the House of Commons to raise heavy taxes, and this had made it unpopular. It was also said that the members had used their power for their own advantage.
But, though the House of Commons had many enemies and few friends, it was not easy to get rid of it. It had been summoned by King Charles in 1640, and, in the year 1653, had already sat for thirteen years. The King had been executed, the House of Lords had been abolished, and there was really no power left which had the right to dissolve the House of Commons and so put an end to its long life.
The members of the House of Commons knew very well that they were no longer in favour with the country, and they knew, too, that if they once gave up their seats and allowed a new Parliament to be freely elected, very few of them would be chosen. They declared at last that they would dissolve themselves, and that a new and free Parliament should be elected; but as they also declared that the new election was not to take place for three years, things were not much changed by their vote. Matters seemed no better than they had been before.
Cromwell saw the difficulty, and understood very well what people were thinking. There was no one who by law could dissolve the Parliament, and yet everyone was anxious that the Parliament should be dissolved. The Lord-General could not untangle the knot, so he made up his mind to cut it with the sword. On the 20th of April, 1653. Cromwell went down to Westminster, taking with him a small number of old soldiers. He was still, it must be remembered, a member of Parliament himself. He left the soldiers outside, went in, and sat down in his usual place. For a time he listened to the debate. At last his patience gave way. He called Colonel Harrison to him, and said: "This is the time; I must do it." Then he took off his hat, and rose to speak.
His speech was of a kind that the House of Commons had not been accustomed to. There were fifty-three members present. Cromwell rated and scolded them like a set of schoolboys in disgrace. He charged them to their faces with all their faults, with their injustice, with their self-seeking, with their neglect of the country, and at length, stepping forward on to the floor of the House and putting on his hat, cried out: "I will put an end to your prating." He stamped his foot in anger. "It is not fit that you should sit here any longer," he said; "you have sat too long here for any good you have been doing lately; you shall now give place to better men." Then, turning to Colonel Harrison, he gave his order: "Call them in!"
Prompt and obedient to the word of command, thirty of the general's old soldiers marched into the House, ready to do exactly what their officer told them. Then Cromwell, turning fiercely on the members, began blaming them, one by one, by name for the evil that they had done. "Corrupt, unjust persons," he cried, "scandalous to the profession of the Gospel; how can you be a Parliament for God's people? Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God -- go!"
On the table of the House of Commons there lay then, as there does now, a gilded mace, which is the sign of the House being in session. This mace is borne before the Speaker when he enters the House, and it is, as it were, a sign or symbol of the authority and power of the House of Commons. But Cromwell had made up his mind that this House of Commons, at any rate, should have no more power or authority. He went up to the table where the mace lay and lifted it up. "What shall we do with this bauble?" said he. "Take it away!" and he gave it to a soldier. The mace is the symbol of the authority of the House of Commons. The Speaker is the head and chief of the House -- the man in whom it places its confidence and trust. Cromwell had got rid of the mace; he now got rid of the Speaker.
The Speaker was Lenthall. We must not forget who Mr. Speaker Lenthall was. It was he who, eleven years before, had knelt before King Charles and declared that he had neither "eyes to see nor tongue to speak, save as the House directed." But this time the Speaker had to deal with a very different man from Charles I. At first he declined to move. "Fetch him down," said Cromwell to Colonel Harrison. Still Lenthall would not budge. "I will lend you a hand," said Colonel Harrison. It was no use arguing with a soldier with thirty armed men at his back. Speaker Lenthall came down, and marched out of the House with the rest of the members. The doors were locked, the Long Parliament was at an end, and everybody except the members who had been turned out rejoiced to see them depart. "We did not hear a dog bark at their going," said Cromwell.
The story of the turning-out of the "Rump" of the Long Parliament has been told here at some length, because it is a very important point in the history of England.
The Long Parliament had begun its work honestly, fighting for justice and freedom. We have seen how its work ended. From being a protector of freedom, it had become a tyrant. It began by declaring that Parliaments should be held every three years; it sat without a break for thirteen years. It dethroned the king, and declared monarchy to be abolished. It put an end to the House of Lords, and thought that it had made itself the only power in the land; but it had raised up two other powers which were much stronger than itself. It had raised up the Army, by which it was at last destroyed, and it had raised up enemies amongst all classes of English people, who had become disgusted with the violence, the selfishness, and the injustice of the House of Commons.
His Highness the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. (Ch 55)
"Gentlemen, you are met here on the greatest occasion that, I believe, England ever saw, having upon your shoulders the interests of three great nations, with the territories belonging to them." Cromwell's Speech to Parliament, 1654.
Cromwell was now the only real power in the country, because he was head of the Army; but, beyond being head of the Army, he had no real office by law. Nevertheless, he decided to do what he believed his friends wished him to do -- namely, to call another Parliament.
In 1653 a Parliament was accordingly summoned, but, instead of being a free Parliament, in which the members were elected by the free choice of those who sent them, the members were really chosen out by Cromwell and his friends, and were mostly taken from the Independent party. One of the members was called by the strange name of "Praise-God Barebone," and from him the Parliament got the nickname of "Barebone's Parliament." It had a very short life, for it pleased neither Cromwell nor the great majority of the people of England. It found that it could do so little, that it agreed to dissolve of its own accord after it had sat only a few months.
Cromwell now decided that he would make himself ruler of England in name as well as in fact. In December, 1653, a Proclamation was issued declaring Cromwell to be "Protector of the Commonwealth." A council of fifteen members was formed to help him, and orders were given that a "free" Parliament should be summoned. It must not be supposed, however, that by a "free Parliament" was meant one in which Royalists who had taken an open part in the Civil War were allowed to sit. It was not till much later that those who had fought for the king were allowed to take their places once more in the House of Commons.
Cromwell opened the Parliament (September, 1654) as if he had been king, and he quickly made it clear to the House of Commons that, though they were "free" in name, they were not free in fact, and that if they did not do very much as he bade them, he would do just what King Charles had done in past times and dissolve them. He soon found the House of Commons troublesome, and in five months he carried out his threat and did dissolve them.
Cromwell was now once more sole ruler of the country, and the orders which he gave actually became laws, as if the Lord Protector of England were some Eastern king or sultan whose will was law throughout his dominions. But great power seldom brings with it great happiness. A Roman emperor once said that he wished all Romans had but one neck, in order that he might destroy them all at one blow. The Roman emperor could not gratify his wish; his enemies were many, and he was but one man.
In England in the time of the Commonwealth matters were reversed. The enemies of the new Government were many, and belonged to every party. At last they saw all the power of the State in the hands of one man -- Oliver Cromwell, the Lord Protector -- and they knew that the life of this one man was the only thing that stood between them and the overthrow of the Government. It was natural, therefore, that the enemies of the Commonwealth should have tried their best to rid themselves of the one life which interfered with their plans, and that plots were made against Cromwell both by Royalists and by the most violent members of the Independent party, who believed that he had deserted their cause. The plots were discovered, and the plotters were either put to death or were compelled to fly the country; but the danger was clear to all men, and to no one was it more clear than to Cromwell himself.
The Protector felt that unless he had friends in every part of the country whom he could trust, his government would never be safe. He therefore turned to those who he knew were his best friends because their welfare depended upon his own. He turned to the Officers of the Army. In the year 1655 twelve of the Major-Generals, or principal officers of the Army, were appointed to govern twelve different districts into which England was divided, and thus the country was ruled by soldiers commanded by a soldier, without either king or Parliament.
For a time the government of the Major-Generals was strong enough to bring peace at home, and Cromwell was able to turn his attention to matters abroad. The Protestants in Piedmont, in the north of Italy, were being persecuted by the Duke of Savoy. Cromwell wrote to Cardinal Mazarin, chief minister of the King of France, and declared that if he allowed the Protestants of Piedmont to be persecuted, England would be no friend to France. Mazarin was at that time very anxious to get the help of England against Spain. He therefore consented to interfere and save the persecuted Protestants from destruction. It was of this persecution that the great poet Milton wrote the famous lines:
"Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold;
Even them who kept Thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,
Forget not: in Thy book record their groans
Who were Thy sheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that roll'd
Mother with the infant down the rocks . . ."
Nor was Cromwell content with helping the Protestants. It was not long before he made war upon their chief enemies, the Spaniards. War was declared in 1656. The English troops were defeated when they landed on the mainland of South America, but the fleet succeeded in taking the great island of Jamaica, which has been held as a British colony ever since. Blake also added another to the list of his victories by defeating the Spanish fleet, which was bringing a great convoy of treasure from the River Plate. The treasure-ships were taken, and thirty-eight waggons were required to bring the gold and silver from Portsmouth to London. The success of the country abroad had been so great that Cromwell now ventured to do away with the government by the Major-Generals and, for the third time, summon a Parliament.
The End of the Commonwealth. (Ch 55)
"You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?"
-- Shakespeare: "Julius Caesar" Act III., Scene 2.
We have said that a Parliament was summoned, but it must not be forgotten that the Parliament of this time meant the House of Commons only. There was no King, and there was no House of Lords. It appeared to many that the time had come when it would be a good thing if England could once more have a King and a House of Lords. Cromwell himself was one of those who wished to see the House of Lords set up again. He thought that if the House of Commons were able to make laws without anyone to check or interfere with it, the welfare of the country would be endangered. Accordingly, in the year 1657, he decided there should be again Two Houses of Parliament instead of one, and he appointed a number of his friends members of the new House of Lords.
It is probable that Cromwell would himself have liked not only to have made a new House of Lords, but to have made a new king, and that he was quite willing to be that king if he could have accepted the crown without danger. However this may be, it is certain that some of his friends went so far as to propose that he should be called "King"; and had it not been that the officers of the Army were jealous of his taking such a title, it seems very likely that England would have had a "King Oliver."
But Cromwell was, no doubt, wise in refusing to be called king, especially as he already had more power than many Kings of England had claimed or possessed. Although the plots against him continued, he was still able to put down all his enemies, and when the House of Commons ventured to oppose him he at once dissolved it (February 4th, 1658).
Cromwell had now only a few months to live, and during those few months he reigned without a Parliament as an absolute sovereign. Whatever we may think of him, it is certain that at this period he had made England more powerful and respected among foreign nations than it had been for many years past. His friends were proud of his friendship, and his enemies were afraid to raise their hand against a man who had showed himself so strong both at home and abroad. Never was Oliver Cromwell more powerful and more respected than at the time of his death.
It was on the 3rd of September, 1658 -- the anniversary of the battles of Dunbar and Worcester -- that the great Protector died, leaving behind him a name which all Englishmen, whether they be friends or enemies, must always think of as that of a great man. With Cromwell, the real power of the Commonwealth came to an end immediately.
His son, Richard Cromwell, succeeded to his office as Lord Protector, and everyone seemed to think it a natural thing that he should do so, but it was very soon seen that there was a vast difference between father and son. The officers of the Army, who had followed the father to victory in many a fierce fight, despised the son, and had no intention of being ruled by him. "Dick Cromwell" was neither a king nor a soldier, but only a quiet country gentleman. Nobody wanted him, and, indeed, it is only fair to say of Richard Cromwell that he did not himself wish to cling to his office if he were not wanted. A Parliament was called on January 27th, 1659, but was dissolved again in three months.
Nothing had been done for the Army, and the Army was determined that it should not be forgotten. Then a strange step was taken. The soldiers thought that it would be a good thing to have a Parliament if the Parliament would do exactly what it was ordered to do. No "Free Parliament" would take orders from the Army, but it was thought that the old members of the "Rump" of the Long Parliament would do anything they were ordered to do, if only they were called back again to their seats in the House of Commons. The proposal was carried out, and forty-two members of the Long Parliament, with Speaker Lenthall at their head, were brought back from all parts of the country and started once more under the name of the House of Commons.
Even now, however, the soldiers found out that they had not got quite what they wanted, for even the Rump Parliament would not consent to take their orders, and, indeed, went so far as to try and interfere with the Army and its officers.
And now, at last, when their greatest enemy was dead, and when the Army and the Parliament were quarrelling between themselves, the Royalists once more began to hold up their heads and to hope for success. What they had never been able to win by force of arms they now thought they might gain from the weariness and disgust of their enemies with the very power which they themselves had set up. The people of England had got rid of the king, not because they hated kings, but because they would not put up with a king who oppressed them and broke the law. Now that they found that a Parliament ruling without a king meant government by the Army, and oppression and law-breaking into the bargain, they were quite ready to go back to the old arrangements, and to try government by King, Lords, and Commons once more.
The Restoration. (Ch 55)
"There is noe hope of a peace, or the war to cease,
Till the king enjoyes his right againe.
". . . I can tell that all things will goe well
When the king enjoyes his rights againe." -- Cavalier Song.
How the old government came back is soon told. When we spoke of Cromwell's march into England before the battle of Worcester, we said that General Monk had been left behind in Scotland to keep that country in order. General Monk had not only kept Scotland in order, but he had kept his own army in very good order also. He saw that the government in London was weak, and he knew that with an army behind him which would obey his orders he could become master of London.
On the 1st of January, 1660, he crossed the Border into England, and marched southwards towards the capital. At first the "Rump" Parliament claimed him as their friend, but Monk was a wise man, and knew that the hearts of the English people were not with the "Rump" Parliament. He marched into the city of London, and was received in triumph by the people. He called together the Common Council of the city, and declared that he was in favour of a "Free Parliament."
Then everybody knew that at last the Long Parliament was at an end for ever. A "Free" Parliament was elected, and for the first time for many years, the views of moderate men on both sides were heard in the House of Commons. The moderate men were all agreed. It was time to call the king back again; there was no other way in which peace and quiet could be secured to the country.
A message was sent to Charles in Holland. He agreed to the terms which the Parliament proposed, and Monk promised to support him. On the 26th of May, 1660, Charles landed at Dover, and was received with every sign of joy by the people of England. The Independents and Cromwell's old soldiers hung their heads and grieved over this strange turn of fortune, but Englishmen, as a rule, felt that a great weight had been lifted off the country, and that it was a happy day which put an end to the government by a tyrannical Parliament, supported by a victorious army.
Chapter 56. Charles II. 1660-1685.
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Principal events during the reign of Charles II: |
A Fair Beginning. (Ch 56)
"Although for a time you see Whitehall
With cobwebs hanging on the wall
Instead of silkes and silver braue
Which formerly 't was wont to have,
With a sweete perfume in everye roome
Delightfull to that princely traine;
Which againe shal be when the times you see
That the king enjoyes his right againe." -- Cavalier Song.
"The king had got his own again." It now remained to be seen whether all would really be well. There can be no doubt that the great majority of the people of England were truly glad of the "Restoration." Many of them were fond of the old Constitution of England, and though they had taken sides against the king, had been sorry that they were compelled to do so, and would gladly have come to some reasonable agreement long ago. All classes had become tired of being governed by the Army. The faults of Charles I. were forgotten by men who had seen so many acts of violence done since his death. The dead king was now an object of pity and regret rather than of hatred, and the country was ready to welcome the young king all the more warmly because it knew so little about him.
There was, therefore, real joy throughout the land when the king came back; but scarcely had the bonfires gone out and the bells ceased ringing when it was seen that there were still great difficulties to be got over before peace and contentment could be restored to the country.
None of the Stuarts were wise kings, and Charles II. was no exception to the rule. Luckily, however, he had learnt something while he was in exile. He had himself suffered so much that he was a great deal more anxious to enjoy himself now that he had recovered the throne than to stir up new troubles in the country. This was fortunate, for there were many Royalists who would have been only too glad to take vengeance upon their enemies and pay off old scores now that they had the power.
General Monk, however, was the king's most powerful minister, and General Monk naturally did not wish to see his old friends persecuted. Still, it proved impossible to prevent the Cavaliers, who had now come back as members of Parliament, from punishing those who had been actually concerned in the death of Charles I. Ten of the "Regicides" * were put to death, and many others were imprisoned or driven into exile. The bodies of Cromwell and Bradshaw were taken from their graves in Westminster Abbey, and, in a fit of foolish and unworthy spite, were hanged at Tyburn, and then burned.
[Regicides, "killers of the king" from the Latin rex (genitive regis), "a king," and caedere, "to kill."]
But this was the worst that was done at this time, and, for the most part, those who had been in arms against the king in the late war were pardoned. Richard Cromwell, who had succeeded in escaping to the Continent, was soon forgotten. If he had few friends, he also had few enemies; and, when he returned to England twenty years later, he was allowed to live peaceably to the end of his long life. He died in 1712, at the age of eighty-six.
The Established Church was set up again, and Juxon, who had been with Charles I. at his death, went back to Lambeth as Archbishop of Canterbury. Edward Hyde (Lord Clarendon) became the king's chief minister. Parliament was summoned in the first year of the king's reign. It was agreed that the king should give up some of the old rights of the Crown to levy money, and in exchange large supplies were voted amounting to £1,200,000. Tunnage and Poundage which, as we know, Parliament had refused to grant Charles I. were now granted to his son for his life.
One other very important thing was done by this Parliament. For the first time, the king was allowed to keep up a force of regular soldiers in time of peace. Two regiments now known as the "Royal Scots" and the "Coldstream Guards" were kept up after the rest of the army had been disbanded, and the House of Commons agreed to find the money to pay them. We shall see that before long the question of the king's right to keep up a "Standing Army" in time of peace became a very important one, and led to most serious differences.
The Dutch in the Medway; or, England Disgraced. (Ch 56)
"The alarme was so greate that it put both Country and Citty into a paniq -- feare and consternation, such as I hope as I shall never see more; . . . A dreadful spectacle as ever Englishmen saw, and a dishonour never to be wiped off! Those who advised his Majesty to prepare no Fleete this Spring deserv'd -- I know what -- but." -- John Evelyn: "Diary," June, 1667.
Parliament was now dissolved, and in the following year a fresh Parliament was summoned. The majority of the new Parliament were Cavaliers, and they did far more to interfere with the peaceful arrangements which had been come to than the Parliament of the year before.
Urged on by his ministers, and especially by the Earl of Lauderdale, a Scotsman who was full of bitterness against the Scottish Covenanters, Charles now ventured to do what his father had tried in vain to do before him, namely, to set up the English Established Church in Scotland. Those who opposed him met with no mercy from Lauderdale; and the Earl of Argyle, who was the chief of the Covenanters, was taken prisoner, tried, and executed for resisting the royal will.
An Act of Parliament was passed in the year 1662 which was called the Act of Uniformity. It ordered the use of the Prayer-Book in every church in England, and it compelled every clergyman to make a public declaration, saying that he agreed with the form of service used in the Prayer-Book, that he was against the Covenant, and that he believed it to be wrong and unlawful to take up arms against the king on any pretext whatsoever. No less than 2,000 ministers refused to make this declaration, and were turned out of their livings in consequence.
Already the English Independents and all those English Protestants who did not agree with the Established Church, and who were known as "Nonconformists,'" began to fear that the new king was going to prove as great a tyrant as his father, and their alarm was increased when the laws against them were put in force with great severity and cruelty. Indeed, if Charles had proved as obstinate as his father, there is little doubt that civil war would have begun over again, for Clarendon, his minister, actually went so far as to imprison Nonconformists for refusing to use the same form of service which was used in the Established Church; and an Act called the "Five Mile Act" was passed which forbade clergymen to teach in schools or to come within five miles of a town unless they had declared in writing that they would agree to the rules of the Established Church, and promise to obey the king and the bishops without question.
But Charles, though he liked to exercise his power as a king as much as his father had done, was not prepared to risk losing his head in order to get his way. And thus, though there was much discontent on the part of the Nonconformists, matters never went so far as to bring about a rebellion.
But if Charles's policy at home were foolish and unjust, his policy abroad was still more foolish and more disastrous to the country. France at this time was growing fast in power and influence under its young king, Louis XIV., and already the French were looking with covetous eyes upon the rich territory of Holland, which lay upon their north-eastern borders. Charles and his ministers were unable to see that the great military power of France, which already threatened Holland, would soon be directed against England, and that Louis would be all the stronger when he had defeated the sturdy Dutch Protestants and become master of the Dutch fleet and the Dutch harbours. It was a great mistake which led Charles at this time to pick a quarrel with Holland, but when once the mistake was made it was impossible to go back, and war was declared in the beginning of 1665.
But if it were a great mistake to declare war with the Dutch, it was a still greater mistake to declare war at a time when the country was quite unprepared to carry it on with success. The English fleet, ill-equipped and insufficient in numbers, put to sea under the command of Monk, who had been made Duke of Albemarle. A battle took place in the Downs within full view of the English coast, and our fleet was badly beaten by the Dutch admirals De Witt and De Ruyter.
King Louis, better advised than King Charles, saw his opportunity in this quarrel between the two Protestant nations, and he was only too anxious that it should continue. At first he had appeared to favour the Dutch, but he now came out in his true colours as an enemy who only awaited his opportunity to conquer their country. In order that he might carry on his own wars without interference, he bribed both Charles and his ministers with large sums of money.
It is hard to think of a more disgraceful condition than that into which the Government of England had fallen at this time. The king and his chief ministers were actually in the pay of the King of France; and, not content with so shameful an act as taking foreign money, they did not even spend what they received upon the service of the country, but wasted it upon their own pleasures and luxuries.
Meanwhile the Navy was allowed to go to rack and ruin. Money which should have been spent on stores, shipbuilding, and repairs, was squandered by the courtiers. The sailors received no pay, and the ships were unfit to go to sea. The height of our disgrace was reached in the year 1667, when a Dutch fleet sailed without opposition into the mouth of the Thames, passed up the Medway to Chatham, and burnt our English ships of war in the very heart of Kent. Not for many a year had England fallen so low as this, and Englishmen felt the shame all the more keenly because they knew that the country which only a few years ago under Cromwell's rule had been mistress of the sea, was still rich enough, strong enough, and brave enough to protect its own coasts if only it were honestly governed.
Pestilence and Fire. (Ch 56)
"The pestilence that walketh in darkness; . . . the destruction that wasteth at noonday." -- Psalm xci. 6.
"We saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long; it made me weep to see it." "Pepys' Diary," September 2nd, 1666.
The bad management and extravagance of the Court, and the disasters which followed, naturally turned men's minds against the king, and still more against his minister, the Earl of Clarendon. Other misfortunes, too, besides our defeats at sea and the mistakes of the ministers at home had overtaken the country, and had fallen with special weight upon the city of London. In 1665 a terrible plague broke out in London. The disease had already become known in this country, and many lives had been lost through it; but it was not till the year named that it reached the terrible height which has made the year 1665 so black a one in the annals of London.
It was in the month of May that the plague broke out in its full fury, and as the summer came on, its ravages spread more widely every day. The disease was one which is now, happily, almost unknown in the United Kingdom. It is a disease which springs from dirt, bad drainage, close streets, and unhealthy air. In these days we have learnt how to fight against it by making proper drains, using plenty of fresh water, and by letting fresh air even into the darkest corners of our great cities.
But the plague is still known in other countries, and as late as the year 1894 a terrible outbreak took place in the British colony of Hong-Kong. Fortunately, the English Government of the colony was able to use the same wise measures which have proved so great a protection in this country, and by cleanliness, good doctoring, and wise nursing, the plague in Hong-Kong was stopped, though not before five hundred persons had lost their lives. In the year 1897, a still worse outbreak of the plague took place, and the disease raged with fury in the great city of Bombay. Here again, however, cleanliness and good doctoring got the better of it, and a calamity such as that which overtook London in 1665 was averted.
But in London in the year 1665 everything favoured the disease. The streets were narrow and dirty, the people had not learnt the value of cleanliness, the summer was particularly hot and dry, and the plague spread with terrible rapidity. In most of the cases, those who were attacked suffered from boils or swellings in the joints, and so rapid was the progress of the malady that men and women fell down as they walked in the streets, and died in a few hours.
The alarm was terrible. Thousands of people fled into the country, and carried the plague with them into the villages. "Dead carts" went from house to house, carrying the bodies to the great pits, into which they were thrown; fires were lit in the streets, in the hope of purifying the air. London seemed like a city of the dead. On the door of every house which the plague had visited was painted a red cross, and under it were written the words: "The Lord have mercy upon us."
King Charles and the Court removed from Whitehall to Salisbury, and thence to Oxford. Nearly all of those who could afford to do so fled from the plague-stricken city in the hope of finding safety in the country. At last, however, towards the end of the year, the plague abated, but not till 100,000 people had perished. As many as 8,000 had died in a single week.
Scarcely had the plague ceased when another misfortune overtook the city of London. In 1666, the year in which De Ruyter beat our fleet in the Downs, a great fire swept over London. It broke out on the night of the 2nd of September, in "Pudding Lane," in the City. For five days it raged furiously, and the wooden houses, of which there were many in all the streets, burned like furnaces. From the centre of the City to Temple Bar there was one sheet of flame. At last the fire was stopped by blowing up a number of houses with gunpowder; but not before 13,000 houses and eighty-nine churches had been burnt to the ground.
The people believed that the Plague and the Fire had been sent as judgments upon the country, to punish it for the wickedness of the Court. It was not wonderful that the chief minister of the Court, the Earl of Clarendon, should have been the first to feel the anger of the people. He was impeached on a charge of high treason in October, 1667, and only succeeded in saving his life by a hasty flight from the country.
The "Cabal" -- The Test Act -- "Habeas Corpus." (Ch 56)
"The Archbishop of Canterbury is called no more to the Cabal, nor, by-the-way, Sir W. Coventry; which I am sorry for, the Cabal at present being, as he says, the king, and the Duke of Buckingham, and Lord Keeper, the Duke of Albemarle, and Privy Seal." -- "Pepys' Diary," December 21st, 1667.
Charles now had to find new ministers to take the place of Clarendon. He chose as counsellors Lord Clifford and the Earl of Arlington, who were Roman Catholics, and the Duke of Buckingham, Ashley (afterwards Lord Shaftesbury), and the Earl of Lauderdale. The new Government got the name of "The Cabal," because the initial letters of the names of its members spelt the word "cabal" -- Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley, Lauderdale. From the time of the "Cabal" Ministry, the government of England has always been carried on by a small council chosen from amongst the ministers of the Crown. This Council became known before long as the "Cabinet Council," a name which it has kept till the present day.
[Cabal is really a Hebrew word. It had already been used to describe a plot or conspiracy, and was now applied to the "council of five" which has been mentioned above.]
The fact that Charles had taken two Roman Catholics into his Council gave rise to much alarm. The great majority of the people of England were Protestants, who feared the Roman Catholic King of France, and who wished to be friends with Protestant Holland. The king himself declared that he belonged to the Protestant Established Church, but many suspected that he was at heart, if not a Roman Catholic, at any rate, a friend of the Roman Catholics. The queen (Catherine of Braganza, daughter of the King of Portugal) was a Roman Catholic, and so was the king's brother, James, Duke of York. Moreover, Charles had no love for the Dutch, many of whom were Republicans. He found his real friend in Louis XIV., who paid him large sums, which Charles spent upon his pleasures, and who was fast making himself an absolute monarch in France.
It is not wonderful that with these differences between king and people, the reign of Charles II., which had begun so happily, should have ended in strife and disaster. The "Cabal" governed no better than Clarendon had done. Charles, with the advice of his ministers, not only entered into an alliance with Louis of France, but actually began a second war against the Dutch. The fighting at sea was, as usual, very obstinate. The Duke of York himself commanded the English ships, and he and De Ruyter carried on a fierce struggle in the Channel. James, Duke of York, was justly detested by the people of England when he became king under the title of James II., but it must be remembered, to his credit, that he was a good seaman, and that he freely risked his life at sea in the battles with the Dutch.
The alliance with France and the war with Holland were not the only things which made Charles unpopular. In 1673 he issued a "Declaration of Indulgence" in which he pardoned a great many of those who had offended against the Act of Uniformity. It was a right thing to wish to pardon these men, but Parliament declared that, whether it were a right thing or not, it was done in the wrong way, and that the king had no right to set aside the law even for a good purpose. Charles was compelled to withdraw the Declaration.
Parliament now showed that it was determined not to allow the king to favour the Roman Catholics. An Act called the Test Act was passed (1673). By this Act anyone who held any office in the State was compelled to declare himself a member of the Established Church. If he did not do this, he had to give up his office. Two of the king's ministers, Clifford and Arlington, were, as we know, Roman Catholics. They were compelled to give up their offices, and the "Cabal" Government came to an end.
Sir Thomas Osborne, afterwards Lord Danby, was made chief minister. Charles was compelled to make peace with Holland, and, despite his wish to remain good friends with Louis, was very nearly forced into declaring war upon France in order to please Parliament and the people. Louis, however, sent an enormous bribe to Charles, which enabled the latter to dissolve Parliament and put off the danger for a time.
In the year 1677 an important event took place, namely the marriage of the heiress to the throne. James, Duke of York, had married Anne Hyde, daughter of the Earl of Clarendon. James had two daughters, Mary and Anne, and in this year Mary, the elder, was married to the Prince of Orange, the chief of the Protestant party in Holland and the bitter enemy of Louis XIV. of France. Once more the country hoped that there would be war with France, and once more Charles was bribed into making a secret agreement with Louis. The secret was found out, and Danby, who was said to have advised the king, was fiercely attacked by the Parliament which Charles had been compelled to summon in 1679, and would have been executed had not the king pardoned him.
It was in this year (1679) that the famous "Habeas Corpus" Act was passed. This was an Act the object of which was to protect persons from illegal imprisonment and to make sure that no man should be kept in prison unless he had first been fairly tried and found guilty.
The Act provided that any person who for any cause whatever had been put in prison, might, as a matter of absolute right, demand from a judge or magistrate a "Writ of Habeas Corpus" or order to the person who kept him in prison, ordering such person to bring his prisoner up for trial at once, so that if guilty he might be punished and if innocent be set free. Any judge or magistrate who had the right to give a Writ of Habeas Corpus when asked to do so, and who refused, was liable to be punished, and to be heavily fined, and the same punishment befell any person who under any pretence whatever kept a prisoner in gaol and refused to produce him for trial when he received a Writ of Habeas Corpus. The name "Habeas Corpus" is taken from the two Latin words at the beginning of the Writ order, and which mean "Take the Body." If we look on, to chapter 60 of this book, we shall find something more about this famous Act, which has always been justly considered one of the greatest defences of our liberties.
The Protestants now began seriously to fear lest the king should make friends with the Roman Catholics; and many believed that, even if the king did not do so, the Roman Catholics would try to make his brother James king in his stead. The belief was strengthened by the discovery of a real or pretended plot which was revealed by a man named Titus Oates. The object of the plot, he said, was to murder the king and destroy the Protestant religion.
It is certain that the greater part, if not the whole, of Oates's story was untrue; but enough had been said to raise the fears of the Protestants, and many Roman Catholics were imprisoned. The Duke of York himself, the king's brother, was compelled to give up his office as Lord High Admiral. The Duke of Monmouth, a son of Charles, was now looked upon by many as the true Protestant heir to the throne. He had no right to come to the throne, for the king had not been married to his mother; but he was a Protestant, and the Protestants declared that they would make him king rather than allow the Roman Catholic Duke of York to be king.
But the friends of Monmouth went too far. They tried to drive the Duke of York from the kingdom, and this the king would not permit. Nor were the people of England, as a rule, ready to allow a man to come to the throne who had no real right to succeed. But all these quarrels and disputes naturally divided the country more and more into two parties. Some of the Protestant party were in their turn accused of a plot known as "The Rye House Plot," the objects of which were said to be the murder of the king and the setting up of a Republic. Three well-known men -- Lord William Russell, the Earl of Essex, and Algernon Sidney -- were charged with having taken part in the plot. Russell and Sidney were beheaded; Essex died or was killed in prison.
This severe treatment of the leaders of the Protestant party strengthened the king's power for the time. The Duke of York was put back into his office as Lord High Admiral contrary to the law, the government was carried on without the aid of Parliament, and friendly messages were sent to Louis XIV. At last it seemed as if Charles, more fortunate than his father, had succeeded in making himself an absolute king, but he did not live to enjoy his success. He died on the 6th of February, 1685, declaring on his deathbed that he was a Roman Catholic, and thus adding one more proof to the many which he had given during his reign of the falseness of his conduct to his people. Little is to be said in favour of Charles, but he had one great piece of good fortune: he was not a good king, but the people of England disliked his rule less than that of the Roundhead soldiers who had governed the country before him and less than that of the Roman Catholic king who was to succeed him. A story is told of Charles and the Duke of York. The king and his brother were walking together. James asked the king if he were not afraid of being assassinated. The king smiled. "No, no, Jamie," said he; "they'll never kill me to make you king." Charles was right; the people of England did not love him, but they soon learnt to hate his brother.
Chapter 57. James II. and the End of Absolute Monarchy in England. 1685-1688.
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Principal events during the reign of James II: |
A Bad Beginning. (Ch 57)
"It was worse than a crime; it was a blunder."
We said in the last chapter that the people of England soon learnt to hate their new king, James II., more than they had ever hated his brother Charles. It must not be supposed, however, that because James was more hated than his brother he was necessarily a worse man. Charles was careless, indolent, fond of pleasure, and self-indulgent.
These were not the faults of his brother. James was a man of courage and activity, as he showed when he fought ship to ship with the Dutch. He had very clear views as to what he thought was right, and was ready to risk everything in order to make his own views prevail. Few kings have been so unfortunate as he in governing England, and few showed so little wisdom in their dealings with the people of England, but it is fair to say of King James that he suffered far more for his mistakes than for his crimes. He was neither a great man nor a wise man, but it is impossible not to feel some respect for a man who was ready to take any risks rather than give up his own ideas of what was right.
But whatever can be said of the courage and earnestness of James, it must be confessed that when he tried to govern England in a fashion which he thought right, but which the people of England had long ago made up their minds was altogether wrong, he attempted an impossible task.
The king was a Roman Catholic; nine-tenths of his subjects were Protestants. The king looked upon Louis of France as his natural friend and ally; his people regarded Louis with fear and mistrust as their natural enemy. James believed in his heart in the "doctrine of Divine Right" -- that kings were chosen by God to govern their people, and that the people committed a sin if they disobeyed the chosen of God. The people of England, on the contrary, had long ago made up their minds that the Kings of England could, and should, only rule according to law and with the aid of the two Houses of Parliament. They had gone to war with James's father rather than give up their view, and they had no intention of changing their opinions in order to please James.
Here, then, were all the materials for a quarrel. James hastened to prove that he was not the man to avoid a quarrel. He began by collecting the Customs duties without the consent of Parliament, an act which was directly contrary to the promise given by his father when he agreed to the Petition of Right. Like his brother Charles, he stooped to take bribes from the King of France, and by so doing bound himself to be the servant of that powerful king. He chose for his chief minister the Earl of Rochester, his brother-in-law, [Lawrence Hyde, Earl of Rochester, was the second son of the Earl of Clarendon.] who he hoped would support him in all he did. In the first year of his reign James summoned Parliament.
At first it seemed as if all would go well, for though the Parliament was a Protestant one, most of the members belonged to the Cavalier party and to the Established Church, and many of them had been alarmed by the discovery of the "Rye House Plot" and feared lest the Nonconformists should regain the power which they had possessed during the time of the Commonwealth. Money was voted to the king, and as yet there was no sign of disagreement in either House of Parliament. It was not long, however, before the storm began to gather. The first clouds appeared in Scotland.
The king, who it must be remembered was King of Scotland as well as King of England, gave orders that the laws against the Covenanters in Scotland should be strictly carried out. Graham of Claverhouse, the hero of the famous song "Bonnie Dundee" -- a man of great courage, but cruel and unscrupulous -- was employed to do the work. The Covenanters, who dared to preach and to hold their services openly in defiance of the law, were persecuted with the utmost cruelty, hunted, and, in many cases, put to death.
The great majority of the people of the south of Scotland witnessed this persecution with feelings of anger and sorrow. It was not long before they took an opportunity of showing how strongly they disapproved of the action of the king. Already there were many in England who were ready to join with the Scots in resisting King James. The Independents and, indeed, many other Protestants in England saw with alarm a Roman Catholic king upon the throne, supported by a Cavalier or, as it was now called, a "Tory" Parliament, and were quite ready to join with the Covenanters in open war.
Sedgemoor. (Ch 57)
"Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?
Why, if it prosper none dare call it treason."
-- Sir John Harrington: "Epigram."
In the very first year of the king's reign an insurrection broke out. In Scotland it was headed by the Earl of Argyle. In England it was led by the Duke of Monmouth, who landed with a small force at Lyme Regis, in Dorsetshire. Monmouth and his friends hoped and believed that most of the Protestants, or, at any rate, a very large number of them, would rise and declare themselves in his favour as soon as he landed. But in this he proved to be altogether mistaken. It was true that James was not beloved by the English Protestants, but up to this time he had done nothing to injure them, and the Parliament which he had called together was friendly to him.
Moreover, Monmouth was not the true heir to the crown, and could only sit on the throne by the right of conquest, and this the people of England had no wish to bring about. The only friends upon whom Monmouth could rely were a small number of Nonconformists and those who had some special reason to be discontented with King James. But with so small a number of friends he had no chance of making himself master of England.
We shall see that later on a great change came over the feeling of the country. Ere three years had gone by, James had succeeded in offending or alarming nearly every Protestant in England, and when that time came he was easily driven from his throne. But the time had not yet arrived, as Monmouth found to his cost. A few of the poorer people joined him when he landed, but scarcely any man of wealth or influence took his side. At Taunton he received a welcome from the townspeople; and his handsome face, perhaps, as much as his cause, won for him the good wishes of the women who welcomed him as he rode through the streets.
But already his fate was sealed. A force, under the command of Lord Feversham, had marched into the west from London, and this force had now been joined by a brilliant and active officer, named Lord Churchill, who was afterwards to become famous, under the name of the Duke of Marlborough, as one of England's greatest generals.
The royal army encountered Monmouth's little force upon Sedgemoor, in Somersetshire. The charge of the duke's troops was broken by a deep ditch, known as the Great Rhine, which crossed the battlefield, and of which the soldiers were unaware until they tumbled into it in the faint light of the early morning. The king's troops fell upon them in their confusion, and the battle ended in a rout. Many of the insurgents were cut down by the cavalry, others were taken prisoners and hanged on the spot.
Monmouth himself was caught and taken to London. He was brought before King James. In the presence of the king his courage altogether forsook him. He flung himself down on the ground and begged, in abject terms, for pardon and for life. But James would have no mercy. Monmouth's crime, he said, was of too deep a dye to be forgiven. On the 15th of July, 1685, the unhappy duke was beheaded.
The unfortunate men and women whom he had persuaded to follow him now suffered for their rashness. Judge Jeffreys, a cruel, savage-minded lawyer, was chosen by the king to go down to the counties of Somerset and Dorset for the purpose of trying those who had taken part in the rebellion. The trials were conducted without justice or mercy. Scores of the persons accused were hanged. Many were condemned and sold as slaves, to be sent to the American plantations; others were fined, robbed, and tortured. To this day the cruelty of Judge Jeffreys is remembered in the west of England, and men still speak of his visit as the "Bloody Assize."
The insurrection in Scotland, under the Earl of Argyle, did not end more fortunately than that under the Duke of Monmouth. The very week after Monmouth's landing, Argyle was defeated, and his army broken up. The earl himself was taken prisoner, and was executed June 30th, 1685.
From Bad to Worse. (Ch 57)
"The pretended power of suspending of laws and the execution of laws by regal authority without consent of Parliament, is illegal.
"The raising or keeping a standing army within the kingdom in time of peace, unless it be with consent of Parliament, is against the law." -- From the "Bill of Rights," 1689.
The defeat of Monmouth and Argyle made James feel much more secure on his throne than he had hitherto done. Having got rid so easily of one set of enemies, he thought himself strong enough to enter into a conflict with another, but this new conflict proved to be a much more dangerous one than that from which he had just come out victorious, for his new enemies were really the people of England. It must not be forgotten that James believed that he was a king by Divine Right, and that he was entitled to consider himself above the law and to govern the country without consulting Parliament. He was now determined that he would get rid of all the obstacles which prevented him from carrying out his will and prevented him from ruling as he believed a "king by Divine Right" ought to rule.
There were three things on which James had set his heart. The first was the abolition of the "Test Act." The Test Act, it must be remembered, was the Act which had been passed in the reign of Charles II. by which all persons who refused to declare themselves members of the Established Church were forbidden to hold any public office. It was not at all wonderful that James should wish to do away with this Act, for he himself had been driven out of his office by it when Lord High Admiral. Indeed, though the Act was looked upon with favour by the majority of Protestants, it was a bad Act in itself, because it punished men for their opinions and prevented many good and honourable men from serving the country. If James had been content to wait till Parliament had repealed the law, all might have been well; but he was not content to wait, as we shall see.
The second thing which James wished to do was to get rid of the Habeas Corpus Act. As long as the Test Act remained law it was difficult for him to reward his friends. The Habeas Corpus Act made it hard for him to punish his enemies. He wished to be able to put his enemies into prison and to be able to keep them there without their being brought up for trial, and perhaps acquitted, by a jury who were unfriendly to him.
The third thing which James wished to do was to increase the Standing Army. Louis XIV. had raised a very strong army, and was able by means of it to do very much what he liked in France. James longed to have a strong and obedient force in England which would enable him to override Parliament and to use his power as Louis XIV. used his in France.
He now set to work to try to gain all his three objects. A Bill was brought in to repeal the Test Act, but Parliament would not pass it. James therefore decided to act without the consent of Parliament. Following the example of his brother Charles, he declared that he had a dispensing power which enabled him to dispense with or set aside the law in any particular case.
The judges, among whom was Judge Jeffreys, decided by a large majority that the king had a right to use the "dispensing power," and James at once appointed Roman Catholics to a number of important posts. The Earl of Tyrconnel, a brave but violent and cruel soldier, was one of those appointed. He was made one of the king's ministers and soon became his most powerful supporter. The people saw with dismay all the work which they thought had been done by the passing of the Test Act destroyed in a moment.
James now tried to strengthen the Army. He pointed to Monmouth's insurrection to show how necessary it was that he should have more troops; but Parliament, believing that the soldiers were more likely to be used against itself than in defence of the kingdom, refused to vote the money that was required. Already the discontent was rising, and there were riots in London. James took advantage of the riots to establish a camp of soldiers at Hounslow, so that he might always be able to call in troops to put down the unruly Protestants in the city.
In 1687 the Earl of Tyrconnel was sent over to Ireland as Lord-Lieutenant. It was not long before he succeeded in relighting the fire of civil war in that country. Cromwell, when he had conquered Ireland, had driven thousands of his enemies from the lands which they possessed, and large estates had been given to his soldiers and to other friends of the Commonwealth. In the year 1662 an arrangement or "settlement" had been come to by which a certain number of the Royalists and Roman Catholics had a portion of their lands restored to them.
Tyrconnel, acting on behalf of King James, now determined that he would once more upset the settlement that had been made. He openly took up the cause of the Roman Catholics, and showed the utmost violence against the Protestants. His cruelty and oppression soon plunged Ireland once more into civil war. Nor were James and Tyrconnel content with showing favour to the Roman Catholics in Ireland, in which country they formed the great majority of the people; but they soon bethought themselves of the unhappy plan of using Roman Catholic soldiers, raised and drilled by Tyrconnel in Ireland, to over-awe the Protestants in England.
The Throne becomes Vacant. (Ch 57)
"It was even more necessary to England at that time that her king should be a usurper, than that he should be a hero. There could be no security for good government without a change of dynasty." -- Macaulay.
Now that James had succeeded in setting aside the Test Act, and in raising in Ireland the army which he was prevented from raising in England, he felt himself strong enough to declare open war against the Protestant party. On the 4th of April, 1687, he issued a proclamation, called "The Declaration of Indulgence" by which he did away with all punishments against those who broke the Test Act. Once again the king had done a right thing in the wrong way, and, indeed, it may be said for a wrong reason also. It was a right thing to declare that no man should be punished for his religious opinions, but it was altogether a wrong thing to declare that an Act of Parliament which had been properly made should be broken and set aside merely by the king's will.
Moreover, though it is true that the Declaration of Indulgence gave a pardon to Nonconformists as well as to Roman Catholics, it was quite clear to everyone that it was the Roman Catholics only, and not the Nonconformists, whom King James wished to benefit. This was so clear that even the Nonconformists themselves showed no pleasure when they heard of the king's declaration, and many of them joined with the Protestants who belonged to the Established Church in condemning James for openly breaking the law and putting himself above the Parliament.
Throughout the country the indignation against the king was very great, and it became greater when he gave orders that the Declaration of Indulgence should be publicly read in all the churches. The bishops of the Established Church point-blank refused to obey the king's orders. The Archbishop of Canterbury and six of the bishops were imprisoned and sent to the Tower.
They were brought before the Court of King's Bench, and tried. A number of the Nonconformists went to them as a deputation, to give them comfort while they lay in the Tower, and the king thus saw that he had at last united against him Protestants of all parties. The trial ended in an acquittal, and the seven bishops were received with enthusiasm by the people of London on their release. Even the soldiers in the camp at Hounslow Heath cheered when they heard of the acquittal of the bishops. Great was the alarm of the king when he learnt that even the army could not be trusted to support him.
But no warning was sufficient to teach the king wisdom. He turned out the Protestant Heads of colleges at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and put Roman Catholics in their places. He brought Irish troops over, and mixed them up with the English regiments at Hounslow. He thought that by so doing he would be more certain of the support of the army. The very contrary was the result, for the English officers and men were indignant at having their places taken by Tyrconnel's Roman Catholics. It was already clear that the king's throne was tottering.
James hoped that the birth of a son, which took place on June 10th, 1688, would strengthen his cause, and that those who had supported his Protestant daughter, Mary, as long as she was the next heir to the throne, would change their minds now that a Prince of Wales had been born. But many declared that no child had ever really been born, and that the new Prince of Wales was a baby who had been brought in and adopted by the king as his own to deceive the country. Those who were already preparing to desert the king saw in the birth of an heir another reason for acting quickly. Already several of the ministers and courtiers on whom James most fully depended were writing letters to his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, inviting him to come over, and promising him their support if he did so.
It was not, however, till the end of the year 1688 that William thought his time had come to act openly. On the 10th of October in that year, the Prince of Orange made a "declaration" recalling all the illegal acts of James, accepting the invitation of Parliament to take the place of his father-in-law on the throne, and announcing that he was about to land in England with an army and to proclaim a "free and legal Parliament." On the 5th November, 1688, William landed at Torbay. An army was sent to stop him, but the Earl of Marlborough, who was one of the principal generals, deserted to the enemy, and was followed by many other officers.
James fled from London. The House of Lords undertook the government of the country till the arrival of William. In no part of England did anyone rise on behalf of the king, while the feeling against the Roman Catholics in England was shown by riots in London and elsewhere. William reached London unopposed, and placed his cause in the hands of Parliament. The House of Commons declared that King James having broken the agreement between king and people, and having by the advice of wicked people violated the laws, and having withdrawn from the country, had "abdicated the Government," and that "the throne had thereby become vacant."
The throne being vacant, the true heir was the baby Prince of Wales, but his claim was not allowed. The next heir was Mary, the elder daughter of King James and wife of William. Mary, however, altogether refused to become queen unless her husband at the same time became king. Parliament agreed to her request, and William and Mary were proclaimed joint-sovereigns (13th February, 1689). The unhappy James succeeded in escaping to France, where he immediately sought and found refuge at the Court of Louis XIV., the bitter enemy of England and of the Protestant cause.
Chapter 58. William III. and Mary -- The Revolution and Limited Monarchy 1689-1702.
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Principal events during the reign of William III. and Mary: |
Whigs and Tories. (Ch 58)
"Whiggamores, or Whigs." -- From the Scottish "whiggam," used in driving horses. A term of contempt applied to members of an unruly mob who marched to Edinburgh in the 17th century. Afterwards used to describe the political party in England opposed to the "Tories."
"Tory." -- A name originally given to a class of Irish plunderers among the bogs in the 16th century; afterwards used as a nickname for the political party in England opposed to the "Whigs." -- Dictionary.
It must not be supposed that now that William and Mary had been crowned King and Queen of England, and James had been driven from the throne, the troubles of England were over, or that peace was really restored. On the contrary, it soon became clear that the clouds which had hitherto only threatened were now about to break in a fierce storm upon the country.
In order to understand what took place during this reign it is necessary to remember how many different Parties there were, and how little agreement there was even among those who had joined together to dethrone King James.
The position of the king and queen was a very difficult one. Mary had only succeeded in obtaining the crown by driving her own father from his throne and from his kingdom. It was not easy to feel any great affection for a daughter who had thus triumphed through the misfortunes of her father; and, though the Protestants of England thought that a Protestant queen was necessary for the good of the country, they bore little love to Mary herself. William was much less loved even than his wife. In the first place, he was a foreigner with unattractive manners, unaccustomed to English ways and thoughts, and caring little for English concerns, except when they helped or hindered him in the great work to which he had given up his life.
It had been the one great object of William's life to oppose and to defeat the power of France, which had so long threatened his own native country of Holland, and which had now become strong enough to threaten the Protestant cause in every country of Europe. Year after year William had formed fresh alliances among the Protestant States of Europe. Year after year he had seen his hopes of success destroyed either by the victory of the French troops or by the desertion of one or other of his allies.
But in the darkest times he had never given way to despair, and after each defeat he had set to work again as persistently as ever to thwart King Louis at every turn. Now that he had been made King of England William was far from giving up the great object for which he had worked so long and so hard. On the contrary, he hoped and believed that, now that he had got the power of England behind him, he would be able to continue the struggle against his old enemy King Louis with greater vigour and success than before.
But while the king's object was to use England and the English fleets and armies in the war against France, the views of his new subjects did not at all agree with his own. In England, indeed, parties were greatly divided. The Whig nobles who had taken the chief part in bringing William over, had not got rid of one master in order to set up another. According to their view, it was the duty of the Sovereign to be guided in all things by his ministers. Parliament alone was to decide what money should be spent and what taxes should be voted.
Besides holding all these views, the Whigs held another opinion, which they considered quite as important as any of the others. This opinion was, that the king's ministers, whoever they were, should be chosen only from among the Whigs, and that all offices of profit and all the rewards given for public service should be bestowed upon the Whigs, and upon the Whigs alone. As long as King William quite understood what they expected him to do, and acted accordingly, the Whigs were ready to support him, but no longer.
On the other hand, the Tories, many of whom still believed in the doctrine of the Divine Right of Kings, and whose chief strength lay among the country gentlemen, supported the king not because they loved him much, but because they loved King James less. Many of the Tories were still suffering from the losses they had had to bear during the Civil War, and they felt that, although "the king had got his own again," they had not received the rewards to which their loyalty and their misfortunes entitled them.
They were strong supporters of the Established Church; and though they were no friends to the Roman Catholics, it was upon the Nonconformists that they looked with the greatest dislike a dislike which had never died out since the days of the Long Parliament. The Tories, like the Whigs, were clearly of opinion that if the king were advised by ministers at all, those ministers ought to be Tories, and that if rewards for public services were to be given to anyone, it was to the Tories they ought to go.
We now see how the plan of governing the country by a "Party," which is the plan we still follow, first came into use. From this time forward for many years there was a continual struggle for office between Whigs and Tories. In the old days of James I. and Charles I. the fall of one of the great parties would have meant the fall of the king, but this was not so now. Whigs and Tories might quarrel as bitterly as they liked, and might oppose King William as much as they dared, but both parties knew that all the time there was a third party -- that of King James and the Roman Catholics, supported by King Louis of France -- always ready to come back if once William and Mary were got out of the way. However much they differed, therefore, on other matters, the Whigs and Tories were agreed upon one point, namely, that the king must be kept upon the throne.
There was also another reason why the fall of a Whig or a Tory Ministry did not bring with it the fall of the king. The Whigs, as we have seen, were the first to declare that the king could only act by the advice of his ministers; and they made it a rule that whenever the king signed his name to an order or a proclamation, a minister should sign his name under it to show that he was responsible for advising the king in the matter.
The Whigs went further, and declared that if the advice given to the king proved to be wrong, it was the minister, and not the king, who must be punished. And down to this day this has been the rule which has been observed in our government. As soon as this rule came to be followed, the position of the Kings of England was changed. They had less power, because they could do nothing but what their ministers advised them to do; but, on the other hand, they were much more secure than they had been, because, whatever happened, the blame and the punishment fell upon their ministers, and not upon them.
The War in Ireland: Enniskillen and Derry. (Ch 58)
"It is high treason to instigate any foreigner with force to invade the realm, or any other of the queen's dominions." -- Stephen: "Digest of the Criminal Law."
The first thing which Parliament did when it offered the crown to William and Mary was to remind the new sovereigns of the grievances which had so often been complained of in former reigns. The king and queen were made to promise, in a solemn "declaration," that they would never claim a "dispensing power" or try to set aside or override the law; that they would never raise money, save with the consent of Parliament; and that they would never keep up a standing army in time of peace without the consent of Parliament. The Bill of Rights was put into the form of an Act, which passed through Parliament and became the law of the land (1689).
Having done his part in promising to rule as a "Constitutional King," William now looked to Parliament and to the country to do their part and to help him in carrying on the war which was so dear to his heart. Indeed, it soon became perfectly clear that if the new Government were to hold its own at all, it would only be by hard fighting. Louis of France was already carrying on a fierce campaign against the Protestants on the Rhine, and the full danger which threatened the country was seen when the powerful King of France made common cause with the fugitive James, and promised him the support both of troops and money in his attempt to reconquer his kingdom.
But it was in Ireland that the flames of war first broke out. Tyrconnel still held that country for King James, and he was not long in showing that, as far as he was concerned, the friends of King William could look for neither favour nor protection. The Protestant troops in Ireland were at once disbanded, and Roman Catholic soldiers enlisted in their stead. The "Settlement" of the land was no longer recognised. In many parts of the country the Protestants were compelled to fly for their lives, and their property was seized by Tyrconnel and his friends.
A number of the Protestants took refuge in the town of Enniskillen, a still larger number sought safety within the walls of Londonderry. Tyrconnel at once sent troops to occupy that city, but he was too late. A small party of thirteen of the "Apprentice Boys" of Derry, knowing the danger which threatened them and their friends, acted bravely and promptly; without waiting for orders, they shut the gates of Londonderry in the face of the Earl of Antrim, Tyrconnel's general. The city of Derry was at once fortified, and thousands of the fugitive Protestants fled to it for protection. The whole country was now at the mercy of Tyrconnel, and scenes of savage disorder and bloodshed were witnessed on every side. Houses were burnt, cattle were wantonly killed or allowed to die, and property worth millions of pounds was destroyed.
And now Tyrconnel and the "Jacobites" [The friends of King James were called "Jacobites," the Latin form of the King's name being "Jacobus."] made a great mistake, which in the end proved, as it deserved to prove, the ruin of their cause. They called upon the King of France to send troops into the country. James himself came over to Ireland accompanied by French officers, and aided by French money. The Irish Roman Catholics were stirred up against the Protestants. A Parliament was called in Dublin, which in a few weeks did all in its power to complete the ruin of the country. The "Settlement" of the land was altogether set aside, and thousands of people were ruined by the change. Base money was issued from the mint in Dublin, a step which soon destroyed the little trade that remained, for no one would take a brass coin worth a farthing in payment for goods worth a shilling or eighteen-pence. The Irish Parliament tried to force people to take the false coin, but without success.
Not content with these cruel and foolish measures, the Parliament next passed a great "Act of Attainder" against no less than 3,000 persons, whose lives and properties were declared to be forfeited. These acts of folly, while they did little to help the cause of King James in Ireland, disgusted even those who were his friends in England. The warmest supporters of the dethroned king were shocked when they heard of the cruelties which were being inflicted on the Irish Protestants, and were indignant when they saw French troops brought into the country.
Meanwhile the brave resistance which was made by the defenders of Enniskillen and Londonderry moved the hearts of the English Protestants. Londonderry was closely besieged by a large army. Ships were sent from England to relieve the place. A strong boom had been drawn across the harbour, and the ships could not get up the river Foyle. They were compelled to return, having done nothing. It seemed as if Derry were doomed. Provisions were almost exhausted, the inhabitants were reduced to eating rats and mice, and it was clear that, in spite of the bravest resistance, famine would soon compel the garrison to surrender. Worst of all, Lundy, the governor, proved a traitor, and tried to betray the town to the enemy.
But the courage of the defenders was kept up by their leaders, among the bravest of whom were Major Baker and the Rev. George Walker, a Protestant clergyman. At last relief came. On the 30th of July, 1689, the English ships were again sighted in Lough Foyle. They sailed up the narrow river, and the two leading ships the "Phoenix" and the "Mountjoy" charged full into the boom. It gave way under the shock of the great ships, and the squadron sailed safely up to the city. Londonderry was saved. On the 1st of August the siege, which had lasted for 105 days, was raised, and the enemy retired. A second victory, at Newtown Butler, won principally by the men of Enniskillen, strengthened the cause of the Protestants in the north of Ireland.
England in Peril. (Ch 58)
"Come let us all with heart and voice
Applaud our lives' defender,
Who at the Boyne his valour showed,
And made his foes surrender.
To God above the praise we'll give,
Both now and ever after;
And bless the glorious memory
Of King William that crossed the water."
-- Ballad of "Boyne Water."
Meanwhile in Scotland the struggle was being fought out as well as in Ireland. John Graham of Claverhouse, Earl of Dundee, was for King James, and the Highland clans, for the most part, followed his banner. The Presbyterians and the Covenanters in the south took up arms for King William. The Scottish Parliament, at that time known as the "Convention," refused to take the side of Claverhouse, and the earl, threatening them with his vengeance, rode off to raise the clans for King James.
The two armies met in the Pass of Killiecrankie. Mackay, one of William's officers, was in command of the royal troops. He was defeated, and his army put to flight, by the fierce charge of the Highlanders. But the victory proved of little value to King James, for Dundee, the only commander who could get the Highlanders to unite in following him, fell in the battle. The clansmen dispersed to their homes, and before long General Mackay was able to bring the war to an end, and to establish the authority of King William.
The real danger which now threatened England was the presence of King James and his French allies in Ireland; and to Ireland, therefore, William determined to go.
For a time, however, he hesitated. The Whigs and Tories were fighting between themselves in London with almost as much vigour as the Protestants and Roman Catholics in Ireland, and so violent did their quarrels become that William at one time made up his mind that a nation so divided as England seemed to be would never enable him to carry on war against France, and he would have given up the crown and quitted the country altogether if his Whig ministers, frightened at the idea of being deserted, had not implored him to remain.
Parliament was dissolved, and the new House of Commons contained a large Tory majority. The Tories showed themselves more favourable to William's wishes than the Whigs had been. They consented to allow the king to do what he had long wished to do -- namely, to give a free pardon to all those who had taken part against the Crown in the Civil War. [The Regicides who had actually taken part in bringing about the execution of Charles I. and a few others were excepted by name.] This "Act of Grace," as it was called, was an exceedingly wise step, and did much to strengthen the position of William upon the throne.
In the year 1690 William, with an English and Dutch army, crossed over to Ireland. Not for many years had England been in so grave a danger. Her best troops were across St. George's Channel. A civil war was in progress in Ireland; it was smouldering in Scotland, and was feared in England itself. It was at this moment that a great French fleet, under the command of Admiral Tourville, appeared in the Channel. Lord Torrington, with an English and Dutch fleet, encountered Tourville off Beachy Head. After a long action the English and Dutch were defeated. Torrington was compelled to take refuge in the Thames, and the French fleet became complete master of the Channel. Luckily no French troops were ready to be landed, and the danger soon passed away.
Within a few days after the defeat off Beachy Head, news reached England of a great victory won upon the River Boyne by King William over the army of King James, commanded by James himself. The battle of the Boyne, which was fought on July 1st, 1690, was the death-blow to the hopes of King James. He fled from the field of battle, hurried through Dublin to Waterford, and took ship to France never to return.
The war which followed in Ireland ended in the complete defeat of the Jacobites. Just a year after the battle of the Boyne, the authority of King William had been established throughout Ireland. But the bitter memories of the terrible struggle on Irish soil have remained to this day, and are a sorrowful result of the war.
Fighting It Out. (Ch 58)
"I propose to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer." -- General U. S. Grant. [Telegram sent by General Grant to President Lincoln during the American Civil War. General Grant's pertinacity led to the complete triumph of the Federal cause.]
William was now at last free to carry out the wish so dear to his heart, and to continue the war against France. A certain number of English troops were sent over to Holland, where they took part with varying success in the battles and sieges in Flanders. Even now, however, it was plain that William was by no means safe on his throne. As if it were not enough that father and daughter should be bitter enemies, a quarrel sprang up between Queen Mary and her sister Anne.
Among the closest friends of the Princess Anne was Sarah Jennings, who, by her marriage with Lord Churchill, had become Countess of Marlborough. Sarah was an exceedingly clever, ambitious, and intriguing woman, who made many bitter enemies by her sharp tongue, and who was always ready to pay back hatred with hatred. She gained a complete mastery over the Princess Anne, whose slow wits were no match for those of her clever and active favourite. Nothing could be closer than the friendship between Anne and Sarah, and for years the Princess Anne used to write letters to the Lady Marlborough beginning "My dear Mrs. Freeman," the Countess writing back to "My dear Mrs. Morley."
It was not wonderful, therefore, that when Marlborough fell into disgrace, his wife's dearest friend, the Princess Anne, should suffer also. Marlborough, an ambitious man, who had made himself very popular with the English soldiers under his command, was jealous of the Dutch generals, to whom William showed his special favour. The earl believed that he had not received the rewards to which his merits entitled him, and, angry and discontented, he prepared a second time to betray his king. He began to write letters to King James in France, declaring that the time would soon come when James could safely return to his throne; and, what was even more serious, he persuaded the Princess Anne to add her letters to those which he himself sent.
Nor was this the greatest treachery of which Marlborough was guilty, for it is certain that, on a later occasion, he actually went so far as to inform the French of an intended English expedition against Brest, and that the information which he gave helped to bring about the defeat of the English, and caused the loss of hundreds of English soldiers. It is not wonderful, therefore, that when Marlborough's treachery was discovered, he and his wife were disgraced and dismissed from Court. The Princess Anne took up the cause of her favourite, and a bitter quarrel broke out between the Queen and her sister. There can be no doubt that, if things had turned against William, Marlborough would have openly deserted to King James.
But events now took place which once more destroyed the hopes of the Jacobites. In the year 1692 a great French fleet was collected for the invasion of England. James fully believed that this time he would return in triumph to his throne; but, with his usual want of wisdom, he sent over a proclamation to England declaring that everybody who did not join him at once would be held a traitor, and naming hundreds of Englishmen whom he declared he would never pardon. This was not the way to make friends, and all parties joined heartily in the preparations which were made to resist the king who was coming with threats of punishment in his hand, and with a French army at his back.
The English and Dutch fleets united, and, under the command of Admiral Rooke, and in superior numbers, attacked the French under Tourville off Cape La Hogue (May, 1692). The French fleet was broken to pieces, and many of the ships were taken or driven ashore. Once more the danger of invasion was at an end.
The war in Flanders, however, continued with little profit or advantage to England, and at the battle of Steinkirk (July, 1692) a large number of the English soldiers were killed. The English at home blamed the Dutch general for the defeat, and loud murmurs were heard against the favour which the king showed to the Dutch generals and the Dutch troops. Indeed, as the war continued, and the expense became greater and greater, the discontent in England grew rapidly. For the first time the country had to run heavily into debt to pay its expenses, and it seemed as if all the money which was spent brought no return but defeat and disappointment.
But William was determined to continue the war at any cost. If the Tories would not help him any longer, he was determined to try what the Whigs would do. A Whig Government was formed, in which Lord Somers, Lord Halifax, Lord Russell, and Lord Wharton became the principal ministers. The king asked for money. Parliament, as usual, declared that, if he wanted money, he must give something in return. They, therefore, asked him to agree to an Act which limited the length of a Parliament to three years. [The "Triennial Bill."] The king, very much against his will, was forced to give his assent (1694).
The Last Years of King William. (Ch 58)
"To the glorious, pious, and immortal memory of his late Majesty King William III." -- Whig Toast.
"To the king over the water." Jacobite Toast.
[When called upon to drink the health of the king or queen at public banquets, the Jacobites often passed their glass over a glass or bottle of water standing on the table before drinking. They declared that they thus drank the health of "the king over the water," by which they meant the Pretender across the Channel in France.]
It was in 1694 that Queen Mary died [at 32 years old], and William now reigned as the sole sovereign of the country. With the help of the Whigs he continued the war, and this time the English troops were more successful than before, and the capture of the strong fortress of Namur, in 1695, was looked upon as a great triumph. The king was received with enthusiasm on his return to England, and the Parliament, which was summoned, supported the Whig Ministry which had been so fortunate in the war.
The Jacobites, unsuccessful in arms, now attempted to get rid of their enemy by other means. Various plots against the life of the king were discovered, and their authors punished. The discovery of these plots made William's position stronger than it had been before, and when at last peace was signed at Ryswick, in September, 1697, the country seemed at last agreed in its support of the king and of his Whig ministers.
It is, however, always the case in a country which is governed by parties that, when one quarrel between the two contending factions has been settled, something fresh to quarrel about will certainly be found before very long. The Tories, who were out of office, lost no opportunity of calling attention to all the mistakes which they said were made by the Whigs, who were in office. Above all, they sought to create discontent against the king on account of the number of Dutch troops which he still kept in the country. They declared, indeed, that the army was altogether too big, and that now peace had been made it ought to be reduced; but they specially insisted that William's Dutch soldiers should be sent out of the country.
The English people were easily persuaded to agree with this view, and, to the great disgust of King William, a Bill was actually carried through the House of Commons declaring that the army must be made up only of Englishmen. The king, who saw himself deprived of the Dutch guards whom he trusted, and to whom he owed so much, declared that he would leave a country which had shown itself so ungrateful, and it was with great difficulty that Lord Somers persuaded him to give up his intention.
The Tories, however, had now got the majority in Parliament, and the Whig ministers were once more defeated. For a time William and his ministers continued to fight against the majority, but at last the king gave up the attempt in despair, and dissolved Parliament in 1700, and a new Tory Ministry was formed, of which the Earl of Rochester and Lord Godolphin were the heads. The chief work which was done by this Parliament was to pass what was called the "Act of Succession" (1701), by which it was provided that, in the event of the death of the Princess Anne without heirs, the crown of England should go to the next Protestant heir, and not to the "Pretender," as the son of James II. was called.
In 1701 the war on the Continent broke out again, and, as before, William longed to join it, and to strike one more blow at his old enemy Louis XIV. He accordingly sent over 10,000 troops to Holland, under the command of Marlborough, who had now been restored to favour, and he shortly afterwards crossed over himself to the Continent. It was at this time (1701) that poor James II. died in exile at St. Germains, in France.
He left his cause to his son. Whether that son, if he had been wise, might some day have recovered his father's throne is uncertain, but the young prince not only showed no wisdom himself, but had the misfortune to possess very unwise friends. Louis XIV. immediately acknowledged the young Prince James as King of England. The people of England, who had struggled so long to be rid of the father, and who had declared through their Parliament that neither father nor son should ever reign in their country, were furious when they saw the young prince adopted as the open friend of the enemy of England.
The war, which up to this time had been unpopular, was now generally approved. It was felt that King William must be supported at any cost. A new Parliament was summoned. It was known that the Whigs would support the king in continuing the war, and the Whigs, therefore, became once more powerful in both Houses of Parliament. The great majority of the nation seemed, for the second time, united in their determination that another James Stuart should not reign in England.
At the very time, however, when the hopes which William had so long cherished seemed about to be fulfilled, there came an end to all his plans. On the 20th February, 1702, the king, as he rode to Hampton Court to hunt, met with an accident. His horse fell, it is said, upon a mole-hill, and the king suffered injuries from which he never recovered. Fever set in, and he died in a fortnight.
He was a man with few friends and many enemies: with many faults, but with some great virtues. He was a king to whom, whatever his faults, the cause of liberty and good government in this country owes a deep debt of gratitude. The enemies of England for many a year were accustomed to drink to the health of "The little gentleman in black" -- the mole whose crumbling mound caused the fall, and brought about the death of William of Orange.
But scarcely was the king in his grave when every Englishman who cared for good government, for religious freedom, and for the independence of England, recognised in William of Orange one of our greatest sovereigns. And we in these days have certainly no reason to value less highly than our ancestors the work of this silent, determined, unpopular Dutchman.
Chapters 59-77 show evidence of some colonialist attitudes and are not scheduled for AmblesideOnline. Those are here for interest, but they are not recommended as a history spine.
A List of the Anglo-Saxon Kings and of the Sovereigns of England and of the United Kingdom.
Chief Kings of the Heptarchy
Kent--
Hengist, 457-488 (first king)
Aethelbert, 565-616
Eadbald, 616-640
Egbert, 823
South Saxons--
Ella, 491-514 (first king)
Cissa, 514-584 (Conquered 723 by Ine, King of the West Saxons)
West Saxons--
Cerdic, 519-534 (first king)
Cynric, 534-560
Ceawlin, 560-591
Cadwallo, 685-688
Ine, 688-726
Egbert, 800
East Saxons--
Erchenwin, 527-587 (first king)
Sebert, 597-614
Egbert, 823
Northumbria (Bernicia and Deira)--
Ida (Bernicia), 547-560 (first king)
Ella (Deira), 560-588
Aethelfrith, 593-617 (Unites Bernicia and Deira)
Edwin, 617-633
Oswald, 635-642
Oswy, 642-670
Egfrith, 670-683
Edbert, 737-757
Aethelred, 774-778; Restored 790-794
Alfwold, 806-808
Egbert, 827
East Angles--
Uffa, 571-578 (first king)
Redwald, 599-624
Beorna and Aethelred, 749-758
Beorna alone, 758-761
Aethelred, 761-790
Aethelbert, 790-792
Egbert, 823
Mercia--
Crida, 586-593 (first king)
Wibba, 597-613
Ceorl, 615-626
Penda, 626-655
Peada, 655-656
Wulfhere, 656-675
Aethelred, 675-704
Cendred, 704-709
Aethelbald, 716-757
Offa, 755-795
Egfrith, 795-796
Cenwulf (Cenulph), 796-819
Ceolwulf, 819-821
Beornwulf, 821-823
Egbert (Overlord), 823
Ludecan, 823-825
Wiglaf, 825-838
Kings and Queens of England
Before the Conquest--
Egbert, 827-836
Aethelwulf, 836-858
Aethelbald, 858-860
Aethelbert, 860-866
Aethelred I., 866-871
Alfred, 871-901
Edward the Elder, 901-925
Athelstan, 925-940
Edmund I., 940-946
Edred, 946-955
Edwy, 955-959
Edgar, 959-975
Edward the Martyr, 975-979
Aethelred II. ("The Unready"), 979. deposed 1013
Sweyn (Dane), 1013-1014
Aethelred II., restored, 1014-1016
Edmund Ironside, 1016 (reigned 7 months)
Canute, 1017-1035
Harold and Harthacanute, joint sovereigns, 1035-1037
Harold I., sole king, 1037-1040
Harthacanute, 1040-1042
Edward the Confessor, 1042-1066
Harold II., 1065, killed at Hastings
The Norman Kings--
William I., 1066-1087
William II., 1087-1100
Henry I., 1100-1135
Stephen, 1135-1154
The Plantagenets--
Henry II., 1154-1189
Richard I., 1189-1199
John, 1199-1216
Henry III., 1216-1272
Edward I., 1272-1307
Edward II., 1307-1327
Edward III., 1327-1377
Richard II., 1377-1399
House of Lancaster--
Henry IV., 1399-1413
Henry V., 1413-1422
Henry VI., 1422-1462 (deposed)
House of York--
Edward IV., 1461-1483
Edward V., 1483
Richard III., 1483-1485
The Tudor Sovereigns--
Henry VII., 1485-1509
Henry VIII., 1509-1547
Edward VI., 1547-1553
Mary, 1553-1558
Elizabeth, 1558-1603
The Stuart Sovereigns--
James I., 1603-1624
Charles I., 1625-1649
The Commonwealth, 1649-1660--
Oliver Cromwell (Lord Protector), 1653-1658
Richard Cromwell (Lord Protector), 1658-1660
Charles II., 1660-1685
James II., 1685-1688 (d. 1701)
William III. and Mary, 1689-1702 (Mary d. 1694)
The following are covered in the second part of this book:
Anne, 1702-1714
The Hanoverian Sovereigns--
George I., 1714-1727
George II., 1727-1760
George III., 1760-1820
George IV., 1820-1830
William IV., 1830-1837
Victoria, 1837