I, John Chandos, an English knight,Seneschal of all Poitou,Against the French king oft did fight,On foot and horseback many slew.Bertrand du Guesclin prisoner tooBy me was taken in a vale,At Lensac did the foe prevail;My body then at MortemerIn a fair tomb did my friends inter,In the year of grace divine,Thirteen hundred sixty-nine.
I, John Chandos, an English knight,Seneschal of all Poitou,Against the French king oft did fight,On foot and horseback many slew.Bertrand du Guesclin prisoner tooBy me was taken in a vale,At Lensac did the foe prevail;My body then at MortemerIn a fair tomb did my friends inter,In the year of grace divine,Thirteen hundred sixty-nine.
Froissart says of Chandos, that never since a hundred years did there exist one more courteous, nor fuller of every virtue and good quality. What the English cause lost by his death can hardly be estimated. His valour and wisdom might have prevented the loss of Aquitaine.
It was early in 1370 that Chandos was slain. That year Charles V. determined to strike a decisive blow. Two armies, under his brothers the Dukes of Anjou and Berry, the former assisted by the great General Du Guesclin, were to invade Aquitaine at the same time. They advanced with great success, taking one city after another. Limoges, the capital of Limousin, was surrendered into their hands by its bishop, who turned traitor. News of the loss of this important city was brought to the Black Prince as he lay upon his bed of sickness. In a frenzy of rage he sat up in his bed, and exclaimed, "The French hold me dead; but if God give me relief, and I can once leave this bed, I will again make them feel."
Now that it was too late to gain the affectionsof his people, he had at the advice of Edward III. remitted the hearth tax; but this seemed to the people only a sign of weakness. He also offered in the name of his father the royal pardon to all those who had revolted, if they would return to their allegiance. The Duke of Lancaster had arrived in Aquitaine to aid him in the conduct of affairs, on account of his broken health. The Black Prince's authority in Aquitaine seemed to be gone; but the French successes, the loss of Limoges, and the treachery of its bishop, roused him to make a last effort. He swore by the soul of his father that he would have Limoges back again, and would make the inhabitants pay dearly for their treachery. He mustered his forces at Cognac, and prepared to march towards Limoges. When he took the field, and all his men-at-arms were drawn out in battle array, the whole country was filled with fear: his name had not yet lost its terror. He could not mount on horseback, but was obliged to be carried in a litter. He found Limoges well defended, but he made his army encamp all round it, and swore he would never leave the place till he had taken it.
Limoges was too well garrisoned to be taken by assault, and the English therefore prepared to lay siege to it. They had with them a large body of miners, and the Prince gave orders that the walls should be mined. After a month all was ready. The garrison of the town tried by countermining to destroy the work of the Prince's miners, butfailed; and the miners having filled their mines with combustibles, set fire to them. The explosion threw down a large piece of the wall. The English, who were all ready and waiting for the right moment, rushed in through the breach, whilst others attacked the gates. So quickly was it done that the French had no time to resist. Then the Prince, borne on his litter, and John of Gaunt, and the other nobles, rushed into the town with their men. The soldiers, eager for booty, ran through the town, killing men, women, and children, according to the orders given by the Prince from his litter. "It was a most melancholy business," says Froissart; "for all ranks, ages, and sexes cast themselves on their knees before the Prince, begging for mercy; but he was so inflamed with passion and revenge that he listened to none, but all were put to the sword wherever they could be found."
The garrison meanwhile had drawn themselves up in a body, and stood with their backs to an old wall, determined to fight to the last. The Duke of Lancaster and the Earl of Cambridge advanced to attack them, and in order to be on an equality with them, dismounted from their horses before they began the fight. The English were greatly superior in number; but the French fought so bravely that they were able to hold their own for some little time. The Prince watched the combat with deep interest. The sight of the bravery of the knights at last roused again hisnobler and more generous emotions, and he shouted out that the lives of those French knights who would surrender should be spared. Whereupon the French gave up their swords and yielded themselves prisoners. The Bishop was also taken prisoner. The whole town was burnt and pillaged, and utterly destroyed. The Black Prince, worn out with suffering and disease, seemed to wish to revenge himself by one act of relentless cruelty for the loss of all his power and authority in France.
The sack of Limoges shows us the dark side of chivalry. We must not blame the Black Prince too severely for it. In sacrificing the innocent inhabitants of a whole city to his revenge, he was only acting in accordance with the spirit of the age in which he lived. The views of life in which he had been educated had taught him no respect for human life as such. His generous emotions were not called out by the piteous suffering of women and children, but by the brave fighting of men-at-arms. This was what chivalry led to, and all its bright features cannot make us forgive its disregard of human suffering. Doubtless this terrible sack is a blot upon the Black Prince's character; but we could hardly have hoped to find him superior to his age. In this as much as in his nobler deeds he is a true type of chivalry, and shows us how very partial and one-sided was its civilizing effect. We must remember also, in his excuse, that he was at that time suffering from a severe and painful illness, and suffering even morebitterly in mind at the loss of his proud position, and the break up of his dominions. But whilst trying to see what may be said in his excuse, we must not shut our eyes to the enormity of the crime. The massacre of this innocent population could do no good, and could have no beneficial result. What the Black Prince did was to sacrifice all the inhabitants of a prosperous city to his own thirst for revenge.
After the sack he returned to Cognac, where he had left the Princess. There he disbanded his forces, feeling too ill for any further enterprise. This one exertion seems to have had a bad effect upon him; for he became rapidly worse, to the great alarm of all around him. His physicians ordered him to return at once to England, and in sadness of heart he prepared to leave his Duchy.
Just before he left he had the misfortune also to lose his eldest son, the little Prince Edward. He left his authority in Aquitaine to his brother, John of Gaunt, and sailed from Bordeaux with his wife and his son Richard in the beginning of the year 1371.
The voyage was prosperous. He soon reached England, and went to Windsor to meet the King. He had left his country full of hope and confidence; he returned broken down in health and spirits. The tide of English prosperity had turned, and it is melancholy to compare the bright beginning of Edward III.'s power with the last sad years of his reign.
The England to which the Black Prince returned was in many ways different from the England which he had left. The country had suffered one great loss; the good Queen Philippa, so long the faithful wife of Edward III., had died in 1369. By her wisdom and virtue she had been of great use to the King, and had been beloved through all the kingdom. Deprived of her counsel, Edward fell under the influence of one of the ladies of her bedchamber, Alice Perrers, a woman of great wit and beauty, who ruled him at her will, and who was used as a tool by the different political parties.
It was a melancholy end for the bright, vigorous King to come to. The external splendour and glory of his reign was gone. His court had lost its brilliancy. He himself seemed almost to have sunk into a premature dotage. But though the last years of his reign were not as brilliant as the former years, they are perhaps more important for the history of our country; for in them wesee the beginning of a great political struggle, which left most important traces upon the development of our constitution; and we are also able to trace the remarkable increase of the power and influence of Parliament. In these struggles the Black Prince, for the first time in his life, appeared as a politician; and the part which he took in them earned for him as much glory as his victories of Poitiers or Najarez.
All through Edward's reign Parliament had been increasing in power; but we shall not be able to understand the way in which it had developed, unless we go back and try to find out what it was at the beginning of Edward's reign.
There had always been under the Norman kings a Great Council, composed of the chief men of the kingdom, by whose assent and consent the Crown acted. But besides the advice of their nobles, the kings felt the need of the money of their people; and to obtain this the more easily, they summoned some of them to sit side by side with their advisers in the Great Council. The old arrangement of the shires and the shire courts gave a means of getting representatives. First, knights, to be chosen from every shire, were summoned to the meetings of the Great Council; and finally, Simon de Montfort, in 1264, summoned also burgesses from the chief cities.
Edward I.'s pressing need for money drove him to follow the example of Simon de Montfort, and summon these representatives to Parliament forthe purpose of obtaining from them more easily grants of money.
This privilege, however, of sending representatives to Parliament was not one which the towns were eager to grasp. The burgesses did not care to leave their business, and undertake an expensive and dangerous journey to attend the Parliament. It was an arrangement more for the King's convenience than for theirs. When they got there they had nothing to do but vote grants of money. It was only slowly, and without any outward struggle, that the knights, who represented the shires, and the burgesses, who represented the cities, came to take any part in legislation. It was in this respect that the reign of Edward III. saw a great change.
In the Parliaments of Edward I. each order had deliberated separately. The clergy, the barons, the knights, and the burgesses made their grants separately. At first the barons and the knights, whose interests were very similar, tended to combine. The importance of the burgesses, however, increased during the reign of Edward II., as the barons needed their aid in the struggle against the Crown. As they increased in importance the knights of the shire seem to have broken off their connexion with the barons, and joined with the burgesses. We do not know how this change was brought about; but in the beginning of the reign of Edward III. we find the knights and burgesses combined together under the name ofthe Commons.
That the knights of the shire united with the burgesses, and not with the barons, is a fact of immense importance in our constitutional history. Had they united with the barons, the aristocratic party would have been the strongest in the State. As it was, the Commons, the people, were to be the strongest.
In the reign of Edward III., therefore, we find Parliament divided very much as it now is, into the Upper and Lower Houses. The clergy still sat apart, and formed what is now called the House of Convocation. Only the spiritual peers, that is, the members of the higher clergy, who by holding land directly from the Crown were in the same position as the barons, sat in the Upper House of Parliament.
It was during the reign of Edward III. that the Commons first began to feel their power and importance, and really to desire the privilege of sitting in Parliament. This is one of the signs of the progress they made at this time. They were eager to make laws, and the King himself shared their eagerness, and in consequence this reign is marked by fussy legislation on many different points.
Trade and manufactures were the great interests of the age, and they were represented by the men of the commons, whose minds were entirely occupied by such matters, and whose desire was to benefit them, as they thought, by making laws for their regulation. They had not learnt the greatlesson, that trade prospers best when it is left alone by law-makers. They were inexperienced in making laws, and charmed with their new power, thought it would be easy to make the world go rightly by making laws about everything. Continually the laws when made were found to have quite different results to what the law-makers had expected, and had to be repealed the next year.
This restless desire to interfere in everything was very harmful to trade and industry. There were so many changes that people found it difficult to know what the law really was. Many of the laws were not attended to at all, as it was impossible to watch over the people narrowly enough to see that they were obeyed. We have seen how Parliament tried to fix the price of labour. In the same way it tried to fix the price of everything else. It fixed the price at which tailors should make clothes, at which poultry, meat, bread, and all other articles of ordinary consumption were to be sold. Even the number of dishes which a man might have for dinner was fixed by law.
These laws have left no permanent impression on English history, and are interesting only as giving indications of the manners and customs of the times. They serve also to show how greatly the energy of Parliament increased in this reign, even though it was misdirected. There are other and more important things which show us the great increase of its power.
It had always been the theory of the English Constitution, that the King could not raise money without the consent of the Great Council of the Realm; but this had often been little more than a theory. In this reign it became a clearly recognized fact, that no money could be raised except with the consent of Parliament, and we find Edward III. always appealing to Parliament in his necessities. Parliament also established its right to petition against grievances, and so insisted upon the necessity of both Houses agreeing before any change could be made in the laws.
Edward III. held frequent Parliaments, and made it his practice to consult them on all matters, even on what had been always supposed to belong entirely to the King, the making of war and peace. He seemed to wish to throw upon Parliament the responsibility of his expensive wars. Probably he hoped that if the war was ostensibly carried on by the advice of Parliament, it would be easier to obtain grants of money for its expenses. The Commons, however, were not very eager to advise on these difficult points, saying that they were too simple and ignorant to be able to do so, and promising to agree to anything which the King and his council might decide upon.
In raising money for his wars, Edward III. drew largely from the clergy, whose wealth made them very tempting subjects for taxation. The clergy had long claimed immunity from taxation, and from all the burdens of the State, but in thisage they could not hope to enforce such a claim. They were the wealthiest class in the land. When the French wars increased the necessities of the Crown, and obliged Edward to demand large subsidies from Parliament, all eyes were turned to the clergy as the body who, though not touched by the general taxes, was yet most able to contribute money. The clergy could not refuse the King's demands; but when they had to pay money to the King, they became more unwilling to send the Pope the subsidies which he demanded.
The Popes at this time were both poorer and more avaricious than they had been before. They regarded England as their great source of wealth, and demanded large sums of money from the clergy. The effect of this was to put the English clergy as a body in opposition to the Pope, and to make them more national in their feelings than they had been before. They placed the interests of their country far before the interests of the Papacy.
This was a time of great degradation for the Papacy, which had sunk so low as almost to lose men's reverence. The cause of this degradation lay in the struggle which had taken place some time before between Philip the Fair, King of France, and Pope Boniface VIII. Boniface's ambition had led him to try and set up the power of the Papacy over the affairs of every country of Europe. But Philip the Fair would not brook his interference in France. He quarrelled with him, and sent men to seize and illtreat him in his ownpalace. Boniface died through rage and despair at this insult. Philip, after trying in vain to get complete submission out of the next Pope, at last succeeded in getting a Pope of his own choosing in Clement V. He promised obedience to Philip, and fixed his abode at Avignon instead of Rome, that he might be nearer the French King.
Avignon was in Provence, just outside the French border, in the dominions of the King of Naples. For seventy years the seat of the Papacy remained there, and this has been called the time of the Babylonish captivity. The Popes during this period acted in the interests of the French king. Most of them were French by birth; all of them were French in their sympathies. Their European position seemed lost, and with it the awe and reverence with which they had been regarded. The English, at war with France, were not likely to bear the encroachments made by a French Pope, and clergy, laity, and King joined together to repel them.
The first great statute directed against the interference of the Pope was the Statute against Provisors, passed in 1351. The Pope was in the habit of makingprovisionsfor vacant benefices by appointing to them men of his own choice, and it was against this custom that the statute was directed. It naturally seemed very unjust to Englishmen, that English benefices should be given away to cardinals and other members of the Papal court, who drew the revenues from theirbenefices without ever coming near them; but we must remember that at this time great benefices were not bestowed upon men as rewards for spiritual eminence. They were the prizes which were given to great statesmen, to courtiers, and royal favourites. The ecclesiastics appointed by the King of England had no more intention of residing on their benefices than the ecclesiastics appointed by the Pope. The Pope only claimed the right to reward his servants in the same way as the King did. This arrangement, by which Pope and King alike used the Church revenues for their own purposes, was too convenient for Edward III. to make him really eager for any reformation. The Statute of Provisors might forbid Papal provisions, but it was never strictly kept; nor did the Statute which followed it, called from its first word in the original Latin, the Statute of Præmunire, prove more successful.
This statute forbade any appeals being made from the King's courts to the Papal court, and forbade the introduction of Papal bulls into England without royal permission.
The great interest of these statutes lies in the fact that they express the growing hostility aroused in the laity by the ambition and wealth of the clergy. The writings of the times are filled with complaints of the abuses among the clergy. Langland tells us in a fine passage in theVision of Piers Plowmanthe miserable pass that religion had come to in those days—
"And now is religion a rider, a roamer by streets;A leader of love-days, and a land-buyer;A pricker on a palfrey from manor to manor;An heap of houndes at his ears, as he a lord were,And but if his knave knele that shal his cap bringe,He loureth[2]on him, and asketh him who taught him courtesy."
"And now is religion a rider, a roamer by streets;A leader of love-days, and a land-buyer;A pricker on a palfrey from manor to manor;An heap of houndes at his ears, as he a lord were,And but if his knave knele that shal his cap bringe,He loureth[2]on him, and asketh him who taught him courtesy."
The whole poem is full of allusions to the manner of life of the clergy, their ill-gotten wealth, and the neglect of their duties. In another place he says—
"Bishopes and bachelers, both masters and doctors,That have cure under Christ, and crowning[3]in tokenAnd signe that they should shrive their parishioners,Preach and pray for them and the poor faith,Live in London in Lent and other times;Some serve the Kinge, and his silver tellenIn chequer and in chancery."
"Bishopes and bachelers, both masters and doctors,That have cure under Christ, and crowning[3]in tokenAnd signe that they should shrive their parishioners,Preach and pray for them and the poor faith,Live in London in Lent and other times;Some serve the Kinge, and his silver tellenIn chequer and in chancery."
In an extravagant age the clergy were especially marked by their wild and foolish extravagance, their love for fine clothes, for the chase, for show and pageantry of all kinds. Even the mendicant orders partook of this, and the Franciscan Friars, who had pledged themselves to the most absolute poverty, amassed wealth, and only obeyed the dictates of their order by abstaining from all labour. As a political ballad of the time says—
"Full wisely do they preche and say,But as they preche nothing do they."
"Full wisely do they preche and say,But as they preche nothing do they."
And even of their preaching Langland says—
"I find these friars, all the four orders,Preach to the people for profit of themselven,Glosed the gospel as them good liked."
"I find these friars, all the four orders,Preach to the people for profit of themselven,Glosed the gospel as them good liked."
The Church seemed to have lost all its early simplicity, and to have departed entirely from the teaching of the apostles.
The clergy absorbed all the chief offices of state. This had come about naturally, from the fact that till now they had been the only educated body in the state, and so they only had been fit to transact its business. But now learning had become more general. A new class, that of the lawyers, was springing up, and men were no longer willing to see everything in the hands of the clergy. The great opponent of their power was John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the King's third son. He was an ambitious and unscrupulous man, and his aim was to get the entire control of affairs during the last years of Edward III.'s reign. His opposition to the clergy sprung only from his own personal ambition; he wished to exclude the clergy from the offices of the state that he might fill them with his own creatures. The power of the Commons was as hateful in his eyes as the power of the clergy. He put himself at the head of a reactionary body of great barons, who wished to bring back the old order of things, and restore the power of their own order.
With John of Gaunt was united a man of a very different stamp. This was John Wiclif, who by his learning had risen into importance in the University of Oxford. He had shown himself an eager student, well versed in logic and metaphysics, deeply learned in theology, and delighting in the mathematical and natural sciences. The university had not been slow to recognise his distinction. He had been made fellow of Merton, then the leading college; afterwards he was master of Balliol Hall; and lastly, he had been made warden of Canterbury Hall, the new college founded by Simon Islip, Archbishop of Canterbury. He was first called into political prominence in 1366, when Edward III. called upon him to answer the demand made by Pope Urban VI. for the homage of England, and the tribute promised by King John. In his answer, whilst calling himself the humble and obedient son of the Roman Church, he clearly showed how determined he was to take the national side, and resist papal encroachments. He was equally opposed to the ambition and wealth of the clergy, and this was the cause of his connexion with John of Gaunt. It is impossible to believe that there can have been any real sympathy between the two men,—Wiclif, the zealous student and austere reformer; and John of Gaunt, the complete man of the world, corrupt in his life, narrow and unscrupulous in his policy, absorbed in selfish ambition. They had, however, this in common—that each wished to destroy the power of the clergy, though from very different motives. John of Gaunt wished to humiliate the Church; Wiclif wished to purify it. John of Gaunt resented the official arrogance of the bishops, and their large share of temporal power; Wiclif hopedto restore the long lost apostolical purity of the Church.
It was in the Parliament of 1371 that the first great blow at the power of the clergy was struck. The Duke of Lancaster was away in Aquitaine; but we cannot doubt that Parliament was inspired by his influence, when it petitioned the King that only secular men might be employed in his court and household. Chief amongst the clergy in high office at that time was William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, the Lord High Chancellor.
He had first become important as the King's surveyor and architect at Windsor. Here the King had undertaken important and extensive works for the improvement and extension of the castle. Wykeham had a strong natural taste for architecture, and seems moreover to have been a wise and practical man of business. He became the King's chaplain, his principal secretary, and the keeper of the Privy Seal. In 1367 he was elevated to the see of Winchester, and appointed Lord Chancellor.
He was a most liberal man, and had the interests of the people sincerely at heart. To posterity he is chiefly known by his munificence in founding Winchester School, and New College at Oxford, two foundations which have greatly promoted the cause of learning. He seems in all cases to have used his power and his wealth for the public good. But John of Gaunt and his party hated him on account of his wealth andposition; whilst in Wiclif's eyes he was not spiritual enough for a bishop. Wiclif thought that no ecclesiastic ought to hold office, or busy himself in secular affairs. He no doubt alludes to Wykeham when he says bitterly, "Benefices, instead of being bestowed on poor clerks, are heaped ... on one wise in building castles, or in worldly business."
It was against Wykeham that the petition of Parliament against giving office to ecclesiastics was chiefly directed. He was forced to resign the seals. The other ecclesiastics in office had to give up their posts, and laymen, creatures of John of Gaunt, were appointed to fill them. Sir Richard le Scrope was appointed Treasurer, and Sir Robert Thorpe Lord Chancellor. The same Parliament also petitioned the King about the unsatisfactory state of the navy, and granted a subsidy for putting it into a proper condition; but no great expedition was planned to reconquer the lost possessions in France. The war went on in a desultory way, and nothing particular was gained on either side. The Commons were growing tired of paying for it. They further showed their animosity to the clergy by decreeing that the tax which was to be levied to provide the subsidy voted for the King, was to be raised also from all those lands which had passed into the hands of the clergy before the twentieth year of Edward I.
The clergy met together in Convocation in 1373 to consider what course they should take underthese circumstances. They met in St. Paul's, where Whittlesey, Archbishop of Canterbury, presided. He was too weak, both in body and mind, to take an important part in the proceedings. He summoned all his strength to preach the opening sermon, after which he sunk down exhausted. Simon Sudbury, Bishop of London, a man of the Duke of Lancaster's party, succeeded him as president of Convocation. The conduct of the clergy was marked by moderation. They had no wish to resist obstinately the demands of the Commons; but they complained that they already had to tax themselves heavily to provide subsidies for the King, and to meet the demands of the Pope. They said that they would willingly give more to the King, if he would free them from the exactions of the Pope. The King caused an embassy to be sent to the Pope, stating the grievances of the clergy; but the Pope would do nothing but promise to send ambassadors to a congress to be held at some future time.
The Duke of Lancaster's party was now in complete possession of all power in the kingdom. It remained to be seen how far they would be able to win the confidence of the people. In the conduct of the war they had been by no means successful. The Duke himself had not mended matters by marrying Constance, daughter of Pedro the Cruel, and assuming in her right the title of King of Castile. This only threw Henry of Trastamare more than ever on the side of France. In 1372the Earl of Pembroke was sent with an English fleet to assist the Duke of Lancaster. But now the folly of having turned Spain into a bitter enemy became apparent. The English fleet was intercepted by a Spanish fleet, and completely defeated. Pembroke himself was taken prisoner, and the English naval power received a blow from which it took long to recover.
Disaster followed disaster in Aquitaine. Rochelle was seized by the French. Thouars, one of the last places of importance remaining to the English, was besieged and hard pressed. When news of all these misfortunes reached Edward III. he was roused from his lethargy, and determined to make one last effort to recover what he had lost. A fleet was equipped, in which Edward himself, and even the Black Prince, whose health was now somewhat better, embarked. But the fleet never reached France. It was beaten about by contrary winds for some weeks, and at last was obliged to return to England. There was now nothing to be done except to ask for a truce. In 1374 the Duke of Lancaster returned to England, leaving all the English possessions, except Bordeaux and Bayonne, in the hands of the French.
It was determined that a general congress should be held at Bruges to discuss terms of peace with France. To this congress the Pope and Edward III. were also to send commissioners, to discuss the points at issue between England and the Papacy.
John of Gaunt was chief amongst the EnglishAmbassadors, who went to Bruges to try and arrange a peace. John Wiclif went as one of the ecclesiastical commissioners, of whom the Bishop of Bangor was head. There were great difficulties in the way of any peace between England and France. The French wished Edward to give up Calais, but the English would not hear of this. It was only the earnest endeavours of the Pope, Gregory XI., a sincere lover of peace, which finally brought about a truce, to last till June, 1376.
Meanwhile the ecclesiastical commissioners were also very busy, and all waited eagerly to see the result of this conference. If Wiclif had allowed himself to hope that it would lead to any reform in the Church, he must have been bitterly disappointed. We do not know what part he took in it, but he must have soon seen with disgust that his fellow-commissioners had no desire for reform, and that the King himself was not more zealous than they. In September six lengthy bulls arrived in England from the Pope, stating the conclusions arrived at by the conference. These bulls showed that nothing really had been agreed upon. The Pope made no promises for the future, but only arranged some informalities in the past. It seemed as if the King and the Pope had come to an agreement, purely for their own personal advantage. Each was really to do pretty much as he liked, and the great questions which involved the interests of the Church and the nation were left untouched.
FOOTNOTES:[2]Scowls.[3]The tonsure or shaven crown on the Priest's head.
[2]Scowls.
[2]Scowls.
[3]The tonsure or shaven crown on the Priest's head.
[3]The tonsure or shaven crown on the Priest's head.
Whatever men might have hoped from the Congress at Bruges, and from the lay ministry formed by the influence of John of Gaunt and his party, all their hopes were now disappointed. They had hoped for reform in the Church, and all they obtained was a compact with the Papacy for the maintenance of old abuses. The man who had been foremost in making this compact, the Bishop of Bangor, was rewarded by translation by Papal provision to the see of Hereford. This was what the lay ministry had done for the Church after all its promises of reform. And what had become of the money which they had voted for the continuance of the war? How had the war been conducted? A few short years before France had lain crushed and humbled at the feet of England; now nothing remained of all that the Black Prince had won in France, except Bayonne, Bordeaux, Calais, and a few other unimportant places. The English navy had been annihilated; the English coasts hadbeen insulted by the enemy; never had England known such degradation. Men had believed in the Duke of Lancaster, and this was what he had led them to. Now men saw his personal aims, his selfish ambition. All the tide of popular fury was turned against him and his ministers. He was accused, whether justly or not we cannot say, of designs on the throne; since he knew that his brother, the Black Prince, could not live long. When he was dead nothing would stand between Lancaster and the throne but the young Prince Richard. There was no man more unpopular than he in England; for he was regarded as the opponent of the people's hero, the Prince of Wales.
But the people alone could do nothing against the power and influence of the Duke. In their hour of need, however, they found a leader in the man who had so often led their armies victoriously against the enemy, in the Black Prince himself.
Parliament met at Westminster in the spring of 1376. It was three years since it had last met—an unusually long interval, considering the frequent Parliaments held in this reign. The Black Prince had moved to the royal palace at Westminster, that he might be able to watch over the proceedings. The King opened Parliament on the 28th of April; and on the following day the Lord Chancellor Knyvet addressed the Lords and the Commons assembled in the great chamber at Westminster. He told them briefly the reasons for which they had been summoned. "First, to adviseon the good government and peace of the kingdom of England; secondly, to consider for the external defence of the kingdom, by land as well as by sea; and thirdly, to make arrangements for the continuation of the war with France." The Commons were then bidden to retire, and deliberate apart in their own chamber in the Chapter-house of the Abbey of Westminster. At the demand of the Commons, certain bishops and barons were appointed to deliberate with them, and give them their advice on the subject of the subsidy to be granted to the King. The next point was the choice of a Speaker, and the election made by the Commons was in itself a mark of their opposition to the Duke of Lancaster. Peter de la Mare, the man chosen, was the steward of Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, who had married Philippa, the only child of Lionel Duke of Clarence, Lancaster's elder brother. Philippa had a prior right to the throne to that of John of Gaunt, and therefore she and her husband necessarily opposed his ambitious schemes. Peter de la Mare's policy was sure to be opposition to the Duke. He was, a contemporary chronicler tells us, "a man of abundant wisdom and courage; a lover of justice and truth; neither the bribes nor the threats of his enemies could deter him from the right course."
With regard to the demand for a subsidy, the Commons consented to grant the same sum as they had given three years before; more theywould not give on account of the great scarcity throughout the land produced by the plague, the murrain amongst the cattle, and the failure of the crops. This matter once settled, the Commons proceeded to what they considered the chief business of the session, the petitions about grievances. Headed by Peter de la Mare, they carried their answer about the subsidy to the council and the barons.
Then, standing before the nobles, amongst whom John of Gaunt stood foremost, the Speaker began to disclose the grievances of the country. The people, he complained, were exceedingly weighed down by taxes; but even this they would have borne patiently had the money been usefully employed; yet in spite of the great expenditure the wars had not prospered. The Commons demanded an account of the way in which the money had been spent. "Neither is it credible," concluded the Speaker, "that the King should want such an infinite treasure, if they were faithful that served him." Great was the indignation of Lancaster at this insolence of the Commons, as he called it. Full of wrath, he declared his intention of silencing them next day by a show of his power; but his followers pointed out to him that the Commons had the support of the Black Prince, his brother, and that he could not crush them. Afraid lest they should go further, and allow disclosures to be made about the evil manner of his own life, he appeared before themnext day seemingly mild and gracious. Then the Commons went on with their proceedings. They stated that, on account of the great wars abroad, the present Council was insufficient to manage the affairs of the state; and they asked that ten or twelve bishops, lords, and others be added to strengthen the Council. They next unfolded a long list of grievances, which showed the disordered condition and the maladministration of the country.
They petitioned, first of all, that the King's guilty officers be punished, they insisted that such heavy taxation would not have been necessary, considering the immense amount of money that had come into the kingdom as ransoms for French prisoners, if only it had been properly and honestly administered. They promised that the King should have no difficulty in getting plenty of money for the war, and his other necessities, if he would first dismiss and punish his ministers. They attacked Richard Lyons, a London merchant, and a creature of the Duke's. He had had patents granted him by members of the Council, to buy up merchandise, and sell it again at his own price; he had also caused customs to be put upon wool and other commodities, which he levied principally for his own profit. It was no wonder that the Duke, who interfered in this way with the trade of London, should draw upon himself the hatred of the Londoners. Lyons tried to save himself by sending abribe to the Prince of Wales, in the shape of a barrel containing £1,000. The Prince refused it with scorn; but afterwards regretted his refusal, saying that he would have "done a good deed by sending it to the knights that travail for the realm." Lyons then sent his money to the King, who kept it, saying "that he took the same in part payment of the money that was owing to him; for this and much more he owed him, and had not presented him with anything but his own."
Lyons could not save himself. He was ordered to be imprisoned at the King's pleasure, to lose the freedom of the city, and have all his goods seized.
Next followed the impeachment of Lord Latimer, another creature of the Duke's, who was Chamberlain and Privy Councillor, and governor of a castle in Britany, where he had appropriated large sums of money, and had taken bribes to surrender places to the French. He was also sentenced to be fined and imprisoned. Other accusations followed, all founded on much the same charge—appropriation of the public money. One man, William Ellis, an accomplice of Lyons, had extorted money at Yarmouth from ships driven by stress of weather into the port. Another, John Peachy, had obtained from Lyons a patent giving him the exclusive right of selling sweet wines in London. Sir John Neville was sentenced to be fined and imprisoned, because he had allowed somesoldiers whom he was conducting to France to ravage the country all the way to Southampton. The Commons declared in plain terms that the people of England would no longer consent to have their interests trampled upon, and their trade interfered with, for the sake of enriching a greedy baronage and its creatures. In all this they were firmly supported and encouraged by the Prince of Wales and the good Bishop William of Wykeham, who was quite restored to the favour of the people. In fact, the Black Prince had seen that the best policy would be to attempt to unite against the baronage the Commons and the national clergy. The Commons were quite ready to welcome the clergy back to office; for they now saw only too well the selfish policy which had made John of Gaunt wish to drive them out.
But the Commons did not stop short with attacking the evil counsellors of John of Gaunt; they went on to impeach Alice Perrers, the woman who had gained such an unworthy influence over the King in his old age. They passed an ordinance against "certain women of the court, and especially Alice Perrers, who interfered with the course of justice in the kingdom, sitting side by side on the bench with the judges." Alice Perrers was examined before the nobles, and banished from the court. She was obliged to swear that she would keep away from the King.
It was by its vigorous attack upon all these abuses, and its desire to restore an orderly and discreetadministration, that this Parliament earned for itself the name of "The Good Parliament." It established the right of Parliament to demand the redress of grievances, and to impeach the King's ministers. When we remember that at the beginning of the reign of Edward III. the one function of the Commons was to vote subsidies, we shall realize how great the increase of the power and influence of Parliament must have been during the reign, to admit of such proceedings as those of the Good Parliament taking place. Parliament was now strong enough to cause the ministers of the crown to be removed, and new ones more pleasing to it to take their place. Knyvet, the Lord Chancellor, was the only one of the old ministry who was retained.
For the moment the people's cause had triumphed in Parliament. Meanwhile the people's friend was slowly passing away.
The Black Prince had been afflicted for five years with a grievous malady; but he had never been heard to murmur against the will of God. His sufferings had been very great; he was often so ill that his servant took him for dead. He had rallied his last strength that he might give Parliament his support in its struggle against the Duke of Lancaster. For this purpose he had, as we have seen, moved to the royal palace of Westminster. There he lay in his father's great chamber, and felt that his end was drawing very near.
Two contemporary chroniclers have given us an account of his death, so that we are able to form a tolerably accurate picture of the scene around his death-bed.
He bade them open the door of his room, that all his followers might come in. When all thosewho had served him were gathered round his bed, he said to them, "Sirs, pardon me that I cannot give you, who have so loyally served me, a reward fitting your services; but God and His saints will render it to you." They all wept bitterly; for every one of them loved him tenderly. Then he gave them all rich gifts, and prayed the King that he would ratify these gifts; and calling his little son to his bedside, he bade him never change or take away the gifts which he had given to his servants. Then turning again to the earls and barons, and all his other followers who stood around his bedside, he said to them in a clear voice, "I commend to you my son, who is yet but young and small, and pray that as you have served me, so from your heart you would serve him."
He called also his father, and his brother the Duke of Lancaster, and commended to them his wife and his son. All promised him truly that they would comfort his son, and maintain him in his right.
Soon his sufferings became too great for him to see any one; and it was forbidden that any more should enter the room, where he lay prostrate in the pangs of death. One man, Richard Stury, a political opponent of the Prince's, is said to have forced his way in; for what end we can hardly tell; perhaps to ask his forgiveness. But the Prince roused himself in the midst of his sufferings to upbraid him, saying, "Now you see what you have long desired; but I pray God that Hewill make an end of your evil deeds." After this outburst, the Prince sank back half fainting. Then the Bishop of Bangor approached, and bade him forgive all those who had offended him, and ask God for forgiveness of his own sins, praying also all those whom he had offended for forgiveness; but the only answer he could get from the Prince was, "I will."
The good old Bishop thought there must be some evil spirits present, who prevented him saying more, and so he began sprinkling the four corners of the room with holy water. Suddenly the Prince lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, "God, I give Thee thanks for all Thy benefits. In all my prayers I beg Thy pity, and that Thou wouldest grant me pardon for those sins which against Thee I have wickedly wrought. Moreover also, from all men whom knowingly or unknowingly I have offended, I beg with my whole heart the favour of forgiveness." With these words he fell back and died; and with him, says the chronicler, all hope of Englishmen departed.
Bitter was the lamentation for his death. An old chronicler who lived in the Prince's days says: "Him being present, they feared not the incursions of any enemies, nor the forcible meeting in battle.... Truly unless God holde under His blessed hand that the miserable Englishman be not trodden down, it is to be feared that our enemies, who compasse us on every side, will rage upon us, even unto our utter destruction, and willtake our place and country. Arise, Lord! help us and defend us for Thy name's sake."
Only the day before his death the Prince had signed his will. In it he appointed William of Wykeham one of his executors, which shows us what confidence he placed in the Bishop. His will contains the most minute directions as to his funeral. It was his express desire that he should be buried in the great cathedral of Canterbury, near the famous English saint, Thomas of Canterbury.
His body was therefore carried from the palace at Westminster, where he died, to Canterbury. There, as it entered the gates, it was met by a warrior, mounted on a prancing steed. He was armed for war, and bore the Prince's arms quartered. Then came four men carrying banners, each of whom wore on his head a cap with the Prince's arms. A few steps further on the funeral procession was met by a second knight. He also rode a stately steed; but he was armed for peace, and bore the Prince's badge of ostrich feathers. Preceded by these warriors, the funeral procession advanced through the city till it reached the cathedral. Then the body of the brave Prince was laid before the high altar, and vigils and masses were said in honour of it till the time came when it must be carried to its last resting-place in the Lady Chapel. There it was buried at a distance of ten feet from the shrine of the martyr St. Thomas, whom the Prince, when alive,had always delighted to honour. Over it soon rose the noble monument which still marks the spot where lie the remains of the great warrior. Respecting his tomb also he had left minute directions.
The tomb was of marble, sculptured all round with twelve shields, each a foot high. On six of the shields were his arms, and on the other six his badge of ostrich feathers. On the top lay his recumbent figure, worked in relief in copper gilt. He was represented in full armour, wearing his helmet with his crest of a leopard engraved upon it. He himself composed the epitaph which is graven on his tomb; and it gives us a faithful picture of the mind of the man who wrote it.
It was written in French, and may be thus translated: