"Belt and Spur," Stories of the Old Knights.
1. Poor old Edward the Confessor, holy, weak, and sad, lay in his new choir of Westminster—where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. The crowned ascetic had left no heir behind. England seemed as a corpse, to which all the eagles might gather together; and the South-English, in their utter need, had chosen for their king the ablest, and it may be the justest, man in Britain—Earl Harold Godwinson: himself, like half the upper classes of England then, of all-dominant Norse blood; for his mother was a Danish princess.
Burial siteEdward the Confessor's Tomb.
Edward the Confessor's Tomb.
2. Then out of Norway, with a mighty host, cameHarold Hardraade, taller than all men, the ideal Viking of his time. He had been away to Russia to King Jaroslaf; he had been in the Emperor's Varanger guard at Constantinople—and, it was whispered, had slain a lion there with his bare hands; he had carved his name and his comrades' in Runic characters—if you go to Venice you may see them at this day—on the loins of the great marble lion, which stood in his time not in Venice but in Athens. And now, King of Norway and conqueror, for the time, of Denmark, why should he not take England, as Sweyn and Canute took it sixty years before, when the flower of the English gentry perished at the fatal battle of Assingdune? If he and his half-barbarous host had conquered, the civilization of Britain would have been thrown back, perhaps, for centuries. But it was not to be.
3. Englandwasto be conquered by the Normans; but by the civilized, not the barbaric; by the Norse who had settled, but four generations before, in the northeast of France under Rou, Rollo, Rolf the Ganger, so called, they say, because his legs were so long that, when on horseback, he touched the ground and seemed to gang, or walk. He and his Norsemen had taken their share of France, and called it Normandy to this day; and meanwhile, with that docility and adaptability which marks so often truly great spirits, they changed their creed, their language, their habits, and had become, from heathen and murderous Berserkers, the most truly civilized people in Europe, and—as was most natural then—the most faithful allies and servants of the Pope of Rome. So greatly had they changed, and so fast, that William Duke of Normandy, the great-great grandson of Rolf the wild Viking, was perhaps the finest gentleman, as well as the most cultivated sovereign and the greatest statesman and warrior in Europe.
4. So Harold of Norway came with all his Vikings to Stamford Bridge by York; and took, by coming, only that which Harold of England promised him, namely, "forasmuch as he was taller than any other man, seven feet of English ground."
5. The story of that great battle, told with a few inaccuracies, but as only great poets tell, you should read, if you have not read it already, in the "Heimskringla" of Snorri Sturluson, the Homer of the North:
High feast that day held the birds of the air and the beasts of the field,White-tailed erm and sallow glede,Dusky raven, with horny neb,And the gray deer the wolf of the wood.
High feast that day held the birds of the air and the beasts of the field,White-tailed erm and sallow glede,Dusky raven, with horny neb,And the gray deer the wolf of the wood.
The bones of the slain, men say, whitened the place for fifty years to come.
6. And remember that on the same day on which that fight befell—September 27, 1066—William, Duke of Normandy, with all his French-speaking Norsemen, was sailing across the British Channel, under the protection of a banner consecrated by the Pope, to conquer that England which the Norse-speaking Normans could not conquer.
7. And now King Harold showed himself a man. He turned at once from the north of England to the south. He raised the folk of the southern, as he had raised those of the central and northern shires, and in sixteen days—after a march which in those times was a prodigious feat—he was intrenched upon the fatal down which men called Heathfield then, and Senlac, but Battle to this day—with William and his French Normans opposite him on Telham Hill.
8. Then came the battle of Hastings. You all know what befell upon that day, and how the old weapon wasmatched against the new—the English axe against the Norman lance—and beaten only because the English broke their ranks.
9. It was a fearful time which followed. I can not but believe that our forefathers had been, in some way or other, great sinners, or two such conquests as Canute's and William's would not have fallen on them within the short space of sixty years. They did not want for courage, as Stamford Brigg and Hastings showed full well. English swine, their Norman conquerors called them often enough, but never English cowards.
10. Their ruinous vice, if we trust the records of the time, was what the old monks calledaccidia, and ranked it as one of the seven deadly sins: a general careless, sleepy, comfortable habit of mind, which lets all go its way for good or evil—a habit of mind too often accompanied, as in the case of the Anglo-Danes, with self-indulgence, often coarse enough. Huge eaters and huger drinkers, fuddled with ale, were the men who went down at Hastings—though they went down like heroes—before the staid and sober Norman out of France.
11. But these were fearful times. As long as William lived, ruthless as he was to all rebels, he kept order and did justice with a strong and steady hand; for he brought with him from Normandy the instincts of a truly great statesman. And in his sons' time matters grew worse and worse. After that, in the troubles of Stephen's reign, anarchy let loose tyranny in its most fearful form, and things were done which recall the cruelties of the old Spanishconquistadoresin America. Scott's charming romance of "Ivanhoe" must be taken, I fear, as a too true picture of English society in the time of Richard I.
Battle AbbeyBattle Abbey.
Battle Abbey.
12. And what came of it all? What was the result of all this misery and wrong? This, paradoxical as itmay seem: that the Norman conquest was the making of the English people; of the free commons of England.
13. Paradoxical, but true. First, you must dismiss from your minds the too common notion that there is now in England a governing Norman aristocracy, or that there has been one, at least since the year 1215, when the Magna Charta was won from the Norman John by Normans and by English alike. For the first victors at Hastings, like the firstconquistadoresin America, perished, as the monk chronicles point out, rapidly by their own crimes; and very few of our nobility can trace their names back to the authentic Battle Abbey roll.
14. The cause is plain: The conquest of England by the Normans was not one of those conquests of a savage by a civilized race, or of a cowardly race by a brave race, which results in the slavery of the conquered, and leaves the gulf of caste between two races—master and slave. The vast majority, all but the whole population of England, have always been free, and free as they are not when caste exists to change their occupations. They could intermarry, if they were able men, into the rank above them; as they could sink, if they were unable men, into the rank below them.
15. Nay, so utterly made up now is the old blood-feud between Norman and Englishman, between the descendants of those who conquered and those who were conquered, that, in the children of the Prince of Wales, after eight hundred years, the blood of William of Normandy is mingled with the blood of Harold, who fell at Hastings. And so, by the bitter woes which followed the Norman conquest was the whole population, Dane, Angle, and Saxon, earl and churl, freeman and slave, crushed and welded together into one homogeneous mass, made just and merciful toward each other by the most wholesomeof all teachings, a community of suffering; and if they had been, as I fear they were, a lazy and a sensual people, were taught—
That life is not as idle ore,But heated hot with burning fears,And bathed in baths of hissing tears,And battered with the strokes of doomTo shape and use.
That life is not as idle ore,But heated hot with burning fears,And bathed in baths of hissing tears,And battered with the strokes of doomTo shape and use.
Charles Kingsley.
1. At the end of August, 1191, Richard led his crusading troops from Acre into the midst of the wilderness of Mount Carmel, where their sufferings were terrible; the rocky, sandy, and uneven ground was covered with bushes full of long, sharp prickles, and swarms of noxious insects buzzed in the air, fevering the Europeans with their stings; and in addition to these natural obstacles, multitudes of Arab horsemen harrassed them on every side, slaughtering every straggler who dropped behind from fatigue, and attacking them so unceasingly that it was remarked, that throughout their day's track there was not one space of four feet without an arrow sticking in the ground. Richard fought indefatigably, always in the van, and ready to reward the gallant exploits of his knights. A young knight who bore a white shield, in hopes of gaining some honorable bearing, so distinguished himself that Richard thus greeted him at the close of the day: "Maiden knight, you have borne yourself as a lion, and done the deed of six crusaders."
An ensuing battleBattle of Arsaaf.
Battle of Arsaaf.
2. At Arsaaf, on the 7th of September, a great battlewas fought. Saladin and his brother had almost defeated the two religious orders (the Templars and the Hospitallers), and the gallant French knight Jacques d'Avesne, after losing his leg by a stroke from a cimeter, fought bravely on, calling on the English king until he fell overpowered by numbers. Cœur de Lion and Guillaume des Barres retrieved the day, hewed down the enemy on all sides, and remained masters of the field. It is even said that Richard and Saladin met hand to hand, but this is uncertain. This victory opened the way to Joppa, where the crusaders spent the next month in the repair of the fortifications, while the Saracen forces lay at Ascalon.
3. While here, Richard often amused himself with hawking, and one day was asleep under a tree when he was aroused by the approach of a party of Saracens, and springing on his horse Frannelle, which had been taken at Cyprus, he rashly pursued them and fell into an ambush. Four knights were slain, and he would have been seized had not a Gascon knight named Guillaume des Parcelets called out that he himself was the Malak Rik (great king), and allowed himself to be taken. Richard offered ten noble Saracens in exchange for this generous knight, whom Saladin restored together with a valuable horse that had been captured at the same time. A present of another Arab steed accompanied them; but Richard's half-brother, William Longsword, insisted on trying the animal before the king should mount it. No sooner was he on its back, than it dashed at once across the country, and before he could stop it he found himself in the midst of the enemy's camp. The two Saracen princes were extremely shocked and distressed lest this should be supposed a trick, and instantly escorted Longsword back with a gift of three chargers, which proved to be more manageable.
4. From Joppa the crusaders marched to Ramla, and thence, on New Year's Day, 1192, set out for Jerusalem through a country full of greater obstacles than they had yet encountered. They were too full of spirit to be discouraged until they came to Bethany, where the two Grand Masters represented to Richard the imprudence of laying siege to such fortifications as those of Jerusalem at such a season of the year, while Ascalon was ready in his rear for a post whence the enemy would attack him.
5. He yielded, and retreated to Ascalon, which Saladin had ruined and abandoned, and began eagerly to repair the fortifications so as to be able to leave a garrison there. The soldiers grumbled, saying they had not come to Palestine to build Ascalon, but to conquer Jerusalem; whereupon Richard set the example of himself carrying stones, and called on Leopold, the Duke of Austria, to do the same. The sulky reply, "He was not the son of a mason," so irritated Richard, that he struck him a blow; Leopold straightway quitted the army, and returned to Austria.
6. It was not without great grief and many struggles that Cœur de Lion finally gave up his hopes of taking Jerusalem. He again advanced as far as Bethany; but a quarrel with Hugh of Burgundy, and the defection of the Austrians made it impossible for him to proceed, and he turned back to Ramla. While riding out with a party of knights, one of them called out, "This way, my lord, and you will see Jerusalem." "Alas!" said Richard, hiding his face with his mantle, "those who are not worthy to win the Holy City are not worthy to behold it." He returned to Acre; but there hearing that Saladin was besieging Joppa, he embarked his troops and sailed to its aid.
7. The crescent (the standard of the Saracens) shoneon its walls as he entered the harbor; but while he looked on in dismay, he was hailed by a priest who had leaped into the sea and swum out to inform him that there was yet time to rescue the garrison, though the town was in the hands of the enemy. He hurried his vessel forward, leaped into the water breast-high, dashed upward on the shore, ordered his immediate followers to raise a bulwark of casks and beams to protect the landing of the rest, and rushing up a flight of steps, entered the city alone. "St. George! St. George!" That cry dismayed the infidels, and those in the town to the number of three thousand fled in the utmost confusion, and were pursued for two miles by three knights who had been fortunate enough to find him.
8. Richard pitched his tent outside the walls, and remained there with so few troops that all were contained in ten tents. Very early one morning, before the king was out of bed, a man rushed into his tent, crying out: "O king! we are all dead men!" Springing up, Richard fiercely silenced him: "Peace! or thou diest by my hand!" Then, while hastily donning his suit of mail, he heard that the glitter of arms had been seen in the distance, and in another moment the enemy were upon them, seven thousand in number. Richard had neither helmet nor shield, and only seventeen of his knights had horses; but undaunted he drew up his little force in a compact body, the knights kneeling on one knee covered by their shields, their lances pointing outward, and between each pair an archer with an assistant to load his cross-bow; and he stood in the midst encouraging them with his voice, and threatening to cut off the head of the first who turned to fly. In vain did the Saracens charge that mass of brave men, not one seventh of their number; the shields and lances were impenetrable; and without one forward stepor one bolt from the cross-bows, their passive steadiness turned back wave after wave of the enemy.
9. At last the king gave the word for the cross-bowmen to advance, while he, with the seventeen mounted knights charged, lance in rest. His curtal axe bore down all before it, and he dashed like lightning from one part of the plain to another, with not a moment to smile at the opportune gift from the polite Malek-el-Afdal, who, in the hottest of the fight, sent him two fine horses, desiring him to use them in escaping from this dreadful peril. Little did the Saracen princes imagine that they would find him victorious, and that they would mount two more pursuers!
10. Next came a terrified fugitive with news that three thousand Saracens had entered Joppa! Richard summoned a few knights, and without a word to the rest galloped back into the city. The panic inspired by his presence instantly cleared the streets, and riding back, he again led his troops to the charge; but such were the swarms of Saracens, that it was not till evening that the Christians could give themselves a moment's rest, or look round and feel that they had gained one of the most wonderful of victories. Since daybreak Richard had not laid aside his sword or axe, and his hand was all over blistered. No wonder that the terror of his name endured for centuries in Palestine, and that the Arab chided his starting horse with, "Dost think that yonder is the Malek Rik?" while the mother stilled her crying child by threats that the Malek Rik should take it.
11. These violent exertions seriously injured Richard's health, and a low fever placed him in great danger, as well as several of his best knights. No command or persuasion could induce the rest to commence any enterprise without him, and the tidings from Europe induced him to conclude a peace and return home. Malek-el-Afdalcame to visit him, and a truce was signed for three years, three months, three weeks, three days, three hours, and three minutes, thus so quaintly arranged in accordance with some astrological views of the Saracens. Ascalon was to be demolished on condition that free access to Jerusalem was to be allowed to the pilgrims; but Saladin would not restore the piece of the True Cross, as he was resolved not to conduce to what he considered idolatry.
12. Richard sent notice that he was coming back with double his present force to effect the conquest, and the Sultan answered, that if the Holy City was to pass into Frank hands, none could be nobler than those of the Malek Rik. Fever and debility detained Richard a month longer at Joppa, during which time he sent the Bishop of Salisbury to carry his offerings to Jerusalem. The prelate was invited to the presence of Saladin, who spoke in high terms of Richard's courage, but censured his rash exposure of his own life. On October 9, 1193, Cœur de Lion took leave of Palestine, watching with tears its receding shores, as he exclaimed, "O, Holy Land, I commend thee and thy people unto God. May He grant me yet to return to aid thee!"
Charlotte M. Yonge.
1. On his return from the crusade Richard was taken prisoner by the Duke of Austria. He bought his release only to find King Philip attacking his French dominions, and to plunge into wearisome and indecisive wars, in the midst of which he was slain at the Castle of Chaluz. His brother John, who followed him on the throne, was a vileand weak ruler, under whom the great sovereignty built up by Henry II broke utterly down. Normandy, Maine, and Anjou were reft from him by Philip of France, and only Aquitaine remained to him on that side of the sea. In England his lust and oppression drove people and nobles to join in resistance to him; and their resistance found a great leader in the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton.
2. From the moment of his landing in England, Stephen Langton had taken up the constitutional position of the primate in upholding the old customs and rights of the realm against the personal despotism of the kings. As Anselm had withstood William the Red, as Theobald had withstood Stephen, so Langton prepared to withstand and rescue his country from the tyranny of John. He had already forced him to swear to observe the laws of Edward the Confessor, in other words the traditional liberties of the realm. When the baronage refused to sail for Poitou, saying that they owed service to him in England, but not in foreign lands, he compelled the king to deal with them not by arms, but by process of law. But the work which he now undertook was far greater and weightier than this. The pledges of Henry the First had long been forgotten when the justiciar brought them to light, but Langton saw the vast importance of such a precedent. At the close of the month he produced Henry's charter in a fresh gathering of barons at St. Paul's, and it was at once welcomed as a base for the needed reforms. From London Langton hastened to the king, whom he reached at Northampton on his way to attack the nobles of the north, and wrested from him a promise to bring his strife with them to legal judgment before assailing them in arms.
3. With his enemies gathering abroad, John haddoubtless no wish to be entangled in a long quarrel at home, and the archbishop's mediation allowed him to withdraw with seeming dignity. After a demonstration therefore at Durham John marched hastily south again, and reached London in October. His justiciar Geoffry Fitz-Peter at once laid before him the claims of the Council of St. Alban's and St. Paul's, but the death of Geoffry at this juncture freed him from the pressure which his minister was putting upon him. "Now, by God's feet," cried John, "I am for the first time king and lord of England," and he intrusted the vacant justiciarship to a Poitevin, Peter des Roches, the Bishop of Winchester, whose temper was in harmony with his own. But the death of Geoffry only called the archbishop to the front, and Langton at once demanded the king's assent to the charter of Henry the First.
4. In seizing on this charter as a basis for national action, Langton showed a political ability of the highest order. The enthusiasm with which its recital was welcomed showed the sagacity with which the archbishop had chosen his ground. From that moment the baronage was no longer drawn together in secret conspiracies by a sense of common wrong or a vague longing for common deliverance; they were openly united in a definite claim of national freedom and national law. Secretly, and on the pretext of pilgrimage, the nobles met at St. Edmundsbury, resolute to bear no longer with John's delays. If he refused to restore their liberties they swore to make war on him till he confirmed them by charter under the king's seal, and they parted to raise forces with the purpose of presenting their demands at Christmas. John, knowing nothing of the coming storm, pursued his policy of winning over the Church by granting it freedom of election, while he imbittered still more the strife withhis nobles by demanding scutage[A]from the northern nobles who had refused to follow him to Poitou. But the barons were now ready to act, and early in January, in the memorable year 1215, they appeared in arms to lay, as they had planned, their demands before the king.
5. John was taken by surprise. He asked for a truce till Easter-tide, and spent the interval in fevered efforts to avoid the blow. Again he offered freedom to the Church, and took vows as a crusader against whom war was a sacrilege, while he called for a general oath of allegiance and fealty from the whole body of his subjects. But month after month only showed the king the uselessness of further resistance. Though Pandulf, the Pope's legate, was with him, his vassalage had as yet brought little fruit in the way of aid from Rome; the commissioners whom he sent to plead his cause at the shire courts brought back news that no man would help him against the charter that the barons claimed; and his efforts to detach the clergy from the league of his opponents utterly failed. The nation was against the king. He was far indeed from being utterly deserted. His ministers still clung to him, men such as Geoffry de Lucy, Geoffry de Furnival, Thomas Basset, and William Briwere, statesmen trained in the administrative school of his father, and who, dissent as they might from John's mere oppression, still looked on the power of the crown as the one barrier against feudal anarchy; and beside them stood some of the great nobles of royal blood, Earl William of Salisbury, his cousin Earl William of Warenne, and Henry, Earl of Cornwall, a grandson of Henry the First. With him too remained Ranulf, Earl of Chester, and the wisest and noblest of the barons, William Marshal, the elder Earl of Pembroke.William Marshal had shared in the rising of the younger Henry against Henry II, and stood by him as he died; he had shared in the overthrow of William Longchamp, and in the outlawry of John. He was now an old man, firm, as we shall see in his aftercourse, to recall the government to the path of freedom and law, but shrinking from a strife which might bring back the anarchy of Stephen's day, and looking for reforms rather in the bringing constitutional pressure to bear upon the king than in forcing them from him by arms.
6. But cling as such men might to John, they clung to him rather as mediators than adherents. Their sympathies went with the demands of the barons when the delay which had been granted was over and the nobles again gathered in arms at Brackley in Northamptonshire to lay their claims before the king. Nothing marks more strongly the absolutely despotic idea of his sovereignty which John had formed than the passionate surprise which breaks out in his reply. "Why do they not ask for my kingdom?" he cried. "I will never grant such liberties as will make me a slave!" The imperialist theories of the lawyers of his father's court had done their work. Held at bay by the practical sense of Henry, they had told on the more headstrong nature of his sons. Richard and John both held with Glanvill that the will of the prince was the law of the land; and to fetter that will by the customs and franchises which were embodied in the baron's claims seemed to John a monstrous usurpation of his rights.
Agreement of the Great CharterKing John and the Charter.
King John and the Charter.
7. But no imperialist theories had touched the minds of his people. The country rose as one man at his refusal. At the close of May, London threw open her gates to the forces of the barons, now arrayed under Robert Fitz Walter as "Marshal of the Army of God and Holy Church."Exeter and Lincoln followed the example of the capital; promises of aid came from Scotland and Wales, the northern barons marched hastily under Eustace de Vesci to join their comrades in London. Even the nobles who had as yet clung to the king, but whose hopes of conciliation were blasted by his obstinacy, yielded at last to the summons of the "Army of God." Pandulf, indeed, and Archbishop Langton still remained with John, but they counseled as Earl Ranulf and William Marshal counseled his acceptance of the charter. None, in fact, counseled its rejection save his new justiciar, the Poitevin Peter des Roches and other foreigners who knew the barons purposed driving them from the land. But even the number of these was small; there was a moment when John found himself with but seven knights at his back and before him a nation in arms. Quick as he was, he had been taken utterly by surprise. It was in vain that in the short respite he had gained from Christmas to Easter, he had summoned mercenaries to his aid and appealed to his new suzerain, the Pope. Summons and appeal were alike too late. Nursing wrath in his heart, John bowed to necessity, and called the barons to a conference on an island in the Thames between Windsor and Staines, near a marshy meadow by the river-side, the meadow of Runnymede.
8. The king encamped on one bank of the river, the barons covered the flat of Runnymede on the other. Their delegates met on the 15th of July in the island between them, but the negotiations were a mere cloak to cover John's purpose of unconditional submission. The Great Charter was discussed and agreed to in a single day.
John Richard Green.
Footnote[A]Scutage, or shield-money, was the commutation paid in lieu of military service by all who owed service to the king.
[A]Scutage, or shield-money, was the commutation paid in lieu of military service by all who owed service to the king.
The following preliminary sketch by J. R. Green, the historian, serves as an introduction to Palgrave's picture of an election under Edward I:"It was Edward the First, who first made laws in what has ever since been called Parliament. For this purpose he called on the shires and larger towns to choose men to 'represent' them, or appear in their stead in the Great Council; the shires sending knights of the shire, the towns burgesses. These, added to the peers or high nobles and to the bishops, made up Parliament."The business of Parliament was not only to make good laws for the realm, but to grant money to the king for the needs of the state in peace and war, and to authorize him to raise this money by taxes or subsidies from his subjects. So at first people saw little of the great good of such Parliaments, but dreaded their calling together, because they brought taxes with them. Nor did men seek, as they do now, to be chosen members of Parliament, for the way thither was long and travel costly, and so they did their best not to be chosen, and when chosen had to be bound over under pain of heavy fines to serve in Parliament."
The following preliminary sketch by J. R. Green, the historian, serves as an introduction to Palgrave's picture of an election under Edward I:
"It was Edward the First, who first made laws in what has ever since been called Parliament. For this purpose he called on the shires and larger towns to choose men to 'represent' them, or appear in their stead in the Great Council; the shires sending knights of the shire, the towns burgesses. These, added to the peers or high nobles and to the bishops, made up Parliament.
"The business of Parliament was not only to make good laws for the realm, but to grant money to the king for the needs of the state in peace and war, and to authorize him to raise this money by taxes or subsidies from his subjects. So at first people saw little of the great good of such Parliaments, but dreaded their calling together, because they brought taxes with them. Nor did men seek, as they do now, to be chosen members of Parliament, for the way thither was long and travel costly, and so they did their best not to be chosen, and when chosen had to be bound over under pain of heavy fines to serve in Parliament."
1. During the last half-hour the suitors had been gathering round the shire-oak awaiting the arrival of the high officer whose duty it was to preside. Notwithstanding the size of the meeting, there was an evident system in the crowd. A considerable proportion of the throng consisted of little knots of husbandmen or churls, four or five of whom were generally standing together, each company seeming to compose a deputation. The churls might be easily distinguished by their dress, a long frock of coarse yet snow-white linen hanging down to the same length before and behind, and ornamented round the neck with broidery rudely executed in blue thread. They wore, in fact, the attire of the carter and plowman, a garb which was common enough in country parts about five-and-twenty years ago, but which will probably soon be recollectedonly as an ancient costume, cast away with all the other obsolete characteristics of merry old England.
An election processionAn Early Election to Parliament.
An Early Election to Parliament.
2. These groups of peasantry were the representatives of their respective townships, the rural communes into which the whole realm was divided; and each had aspecies of chieftain or head-man in the person of an individual who, though it was evident that he belonged to the same rank in society, gave directions to the rest. Interspersed among the churls, though not confounded with them, were also very many well-clad persons, possessing an appearance of rustic respectability, who were also subjected to some kind of organization, being collected into sets of twelve men each, who were busily employed in confabulation among themselves. These were "the sworn centenary deputies" or jurors, the sworn men who answered for or represented the several hundreds.
3. A third class of members of the shire court could be equally distinguished, proudly known by their gilt spurs and blazoned tabards as the provincial knighthood, and who, though thus honored, appeared to mix freely and affably in converse with the rest of the commons of the shire.
4. A flourish of trumpets announced the approach of the high-sheriff, Sir Giles de Argentein, surrounded by his escort of javelin-men, tall yeomen, all arrayed in a uniform suit of livery, and accompanied, among others, by four knights, the coroners, who took cognizance of all pleas that concerned the king's rights within the county, and who, though they yielded precedence to the sheriff, were evidently considered to be almost of equal importance with him. "My masters," said the sheriff to the assembled crowd, "even now hath the port-joye[B]of the chancery delivered to me certain most important writs of our sovereign lord the king, containing his Grace's high commands." At this time the chancellor, who might be designated as principal secretary of state for all departments, was the great medium of communication between king and subject: whatever the sovereign had to ask ortell was usually asked or told by, or under, the directions of this high functionary.
5. Now, although the gracious declarations which the chancellor was charged to deliver were much diversified in their form, yet, somehow or other, they all conveyed the same intent. Whether directing the preservation of peace or preparing for the prosecution of a war, whether announcing a royal birth or a royal death, the knighthood of the king's son or the marriage of the king's daughter, the mandates of our ancient kings invariably conclude with a request or a demand for money's worth or money.
6. The present instance offered no exception to the general rule. King Edward, greeting his loving subjects, expatiated upon the miseries which the realm was likely to sustain by the invasion of the wicked, barbarous, and perfidious Scots. Church and state, he alleged, were in equal danger, and "inasmuch as that which concerneth all ought to be determined by the advice of all concerned, we have determined," continued the writ, "to hold our Parliament at Westminster in eight days from the feast of St. Hilary." The effect of the announcement was magical. Parliament! Even before the second syllable of the word had been uttered, visions of aids and subsidies rose before the appalled multitude, grim shadows of assessors and collectors floated in the ambient air.
7. Sir Gilbert Hastings instinctively plucked his purse out of his sleeve; drawing the strings together, he twisted, and tied them in the course of half a minute of nervous agitation into a Gordian knot, which apparently defied any attempt to undo it, except by means practiced by the son of Ammon. The Abbot of Oseney forthwith guided his steed to the right about, and rode away from the meeting as fast as his horse could trot, turning the deafest of all deaf ears to the monitions which he received to stay.
8. The sheriff and the other functionaries alone preserved a tranquil but not a cheerful gravity, as Sir Giles commanded his clerk to read the whole of the writ, by which he was commanded "to cause two knights to be elected for the shire; and from every city within his bailiwick two citizens; and from every borough two burgesses—all of them of the more discreet and wiser sort; and to cause them to come before the king in this Parliament at the before-mentioned day and place, with full powers from their respective communities to perform and consent to such matters as by common counsel shall then and there be ordained; and this you will in no wise omit, as you will answer at your peril."
9. A momentary pause ensued. The main body of the suitors retreated from the high-sheriff, as though he had been a center of repulsion. After a short but vehement conversation among themselves, one of the bettermost sort of yeomen, a gentleman farmer, if we may use the modern term, stepped forward and addressed Sir Giles: "Your worship well knows that we, your commons, are not bound to proceed to the election. You have no right to call upon us to interfere. So many of the earls and barons of the shire, the great men, who ought to take the main trouble, burthen, and business of the choice of the knights upon themselves, are absent now in the king's service, that we neither can nor dare proceed to nominate those who are to represent the county. Such slender folks as we have no concern in these weighty matters. How can we tell who are best qualified to serve?"
10. "What of that, John Trafford?" said the sheriff. "Do you think that his Grace will allow his affairs to be delayed by excuses such as these? You suitors of the shire are as much bound and obliged to concur in the choice of the county members as any baron of therealm. Do your duty; I command you in the king's name!"
11. John Trafford had no help. Like a wise debater, he yielded to the pinch of the argument without confessing that he felt it; and, having muttered a few words to the sheriff, which might be considered as an assent, a long conference took place between him and some of his brother stewards, as well as with other suitors. During this confabulation several nods and winks of intelligence passed between Trafford and a well-mounted knight; and while the former appeared to be settling the business with the suitors, the latter, who had been close to Sir Giles, continued gradually backing and sidling away through the groups of shiresmen, and, just as he had got clear out of the ring, John Trafford declared, in a most sonorous voice, that the suitors had chosen Sir Richard de Pogeys as one of their representatives.
12. The sheriff, who, keeping his eye fixed upon Sir Richard as he receded, had evidently suspected some manœuvre, instantly ordered his bailiffs to secure the body of the member. "And," continued he with much vehemence, "Sir Richard must be forthwith committed to custody, unless he gives good bail—two substantial freeholders—that he will duly attend in his place among the commons on the first day of the session, according to the law and usage of Parliament."
13. All this, however, was more easily said than done. Before the verbal precept had proceeded from the lips of the sheriff, Sir Richard was galloping away at full speed across the fields. Off dashed the bailiffs after the member, amid the shouts of the surrounding crowd, who forgot all their grievances in the stimulus of the chase, which they contemplated with the perfect certainty of receiving some satisfaction by its termination; whether by the escapeof the fugitive, in which case their common enemy, the sheriff, would be liable to a heavy amercement;[C]or by the capture of the knight, a result which would give them almost equal delight, by imposing a disagreeable and irksome duty upon an individual who was universally disliked, in consequence of his overbearing harshness and domestic tyranny.
14. One of the two above-mentioned gratifications might be considered as certain. But, besides these, there was a third contingent amusement, by no means to be overlooked, namely, the chance that in the contest those respectable and intelligent functionaries, the sheriff's bailiffs, might somehow or another come to some kind of harm. In this charitable expectation the good men of the shire were not entirely disappointed. Bounding along the open fields, while the welkin resounded with the cheers of the spectators, the fleet courser of Sir Richard sliddered on the grass, then stumbled and fell down the sloping side of one of the many ancient British intrenchments by which the plain was crossed, and, horse and rider rolling over, the latter was deposited quite at the bottom of the foss, unhurt, but much discomposed.
15. Horse and rider were immediately on their respective legs again: the horse shook himself, snorted, and was quite ready to start; but Sir Richard had to regird his sword, and before he could remount, the bailiffs were close at him. Dick-o'-the-Gyves attempted to trip him up, John Catchpole seized him by the collar of his pourpoint.[D]A scuffle ensued, during which the nags of the bailiffs slyly took the opportunity of emancipating themselves from control. Distinctly seen from the moot-hill, the strife began and ended in a moment; in what manner it had ended was declared without any further explanation,when the officers rejoined the assembly, by Dick's limping gait and the closed eye of his companion.
16. In the mean time Sir Richard had wholly disappeared, and the special return made by the sheriff to the writ, which I translate from the original, will best elucidate the bearing of the transaction:
"Sir Richard de Pogeys, knight, duly elected by the shire, refused to find bail for his appearance in Parliament at the day and place within mentioned, and having grievously assaulted my bailiffs in contempt of the king, his crown, and dignity, and absconded to the Chiltern Hundreds[E], into which liberty, not being shire-land or guildable, I can not enter, I am unable to make any other execution of the writ as far as he is concerned."
17. At the present day a nominal stewardship connected with the Chiltern Hundreds, called an office of profit under the crown, enables the member, by a species of juggle, to resign his seat. But it is not generally known that this ancient domain, which now affords the means of retreating out of the House of Commons, was in the fourteenth century employed as a sanctuary in which the knight of the shire took refuge in order to avoid being dragged into Parliament against his will. Being a distinct jurisdiction, in which the sheriff had no control, and where he could not capture the county member, it enabled the recusant to baffle the process, at least until the short session had closed.
Palgrave.
Footnotes[B]The port-joye was the messenger of the chancellor.[C]Fine.[D]Overcoat, or doublet.[E]The district of the Chilterns, or line of chalk-hills to the east of Buckinghamshire.
[B]The port-joye was the messenger of the chancellor.
[C]Fine.
[D]Overcoat, or doublet.
[E]The district of the Chilterns, or line of chalk-hills to the east of Buckinghamshire.
1. Froissart was a brilliant historian of the middle ages. His writings are in quaint old French. At the request of Henry VIII of England, a translation of his "Battle of Cressy" was made into the English of that day. We insert this as a most lively description of the battle itself, and as a specimen of old literature in which pupils can not fail to take great interest:
2. Thenglysshmen who were in three batayls, lyeing on the grounde to rest them, assone as they saw the frenchmen approche, they rose upon their fete, fayre and easily, without any haste, and arranged their batayls: the first, which was the prince's batell, the archers then strode in the manner of a harrow, and the men at armes in the botome of the batayle.
3. Therle of Northāpton and therle of Arundell, with the second batell, were on a wyng in good order, redy to comfort the princes batayle, if nede were. The lordes and knyghtes of France, cāe not to the assemble togyder in good order, for some came before, and some cāe after, in such haste and yvell order, ytone of thē dyd trouble another: when the french kyng sawe the englysshmen, his blode chaunged, and sayde to his marshals, make the genowayes go on before, and begynne the batayle in the name of god and saynt Denyse; ther were of the genowayse crosbowes, about a fiftene thousand, but they were so wery of goyng a fote that day, a six leages, armed with their crosbowes, that they sayde to their constables, we be not well ordered to fyght this day, for we be not in the case to do any great dede of armes, we have more nede of rest. These wordes came to the erle of Alanson, who sayd, a man is well at ease to be charged wtsuche a sorte of rascalles, to be faynt and fayle now atmoost nede. Also the same season there fell a great rayne, and a clyps, with a terryble thunder, and before the rayne, ther came fleying over both batayls, a great nombre of crowes, for feare of the tempest comynge.
4. Than anone the eyre beganne to wax clere, and the sonne to shyne fayre and bright, the which was right in the frenchmens eyen and on thenglysshmens backes. Whan the genowayes were assembled to-guyder, and began to aproche, they made a great leape and crye, to abasshe thenglysshmen, but they stode styll, and styredde not for all that; thāns the genowayes agayne the seconde tyme made another leape, and a fell crye, and stepped forward a lytell, and thenglysshmen remeued not one fote; thirdly agayne they leapt and cryed, and went forthe tyll they come within shotte; thane they shotte feersly with their crosbowes; thun thenglysshe archers stept forthe one pase, and lette fly their arowes so hotly, and so thycke, that it semed snowe; when the genowayes felte the arowes persynge through heeds, armes, and brestes, many of them cast downe their crosbowes, and dyde cutte their strynges, and retourned dysconfited.
5. Whun the frenche kynge sawe them flye away, he sayd, slee these rascalles, for they shall lette and trouble us without reason: then ye shulde have sene the men of armes dasshe in among them, and kylled a great nombre of them; and ever styll the englysshmen shot where as they sawe thyckest preace; the sharpe arowes ranne into the men of armes, and into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, amōge the genowayes; and when they were downe, they coude not relyve agayne, the preace was so thycke, that one overthrewe another. And also amonge the englysshmen there were certayne rascalles that went a fote, with great knyves, and they went in among the men of armes, and slewe and murdredde manyas they lay on the grounde, both erles, baronnes, knyghtes and squyers, whereof the kynge of Englande was after dyspleased, for he had rather they had bene taken prisoners.
6. The valyant kyng of Behaygne, called Charles of Luzenbomge, sonne to the noble emperour Henry of Luzenbomge, for all that he was nyghe blynde, whun he understode the order of the batayle, he sayde to them about hym, where is the lorde Charles my son? his men sayde, sir, we can not tell, we thynke he be fyghtynge; thun he sayde, sirs, ye ar my men, my companyons, and frendes in this journey. I requyre you bring me so farre forwarde, that I may stryke one stroke with my swerde; they sayde they wolde do his commandement, and to the intent that they shulde not lese him in the prease, they tyed all their raynes of their bridelles eche to other, and sette the kynge before to accomplysshe his desyre, and so thei went on their ennemyes; the lorde Charles of Behaygne, his sonne, who wrote hymselfe kyng of Behaygne, and bare the armes, he came in good order to the batayle, but whāne he sawe that the matter went awrie on their partie, he departed, I can not tell you whiche waye, the kynge his father was so farre forwarde that he strake a stroke with his swerde, ye and mo thun foure, and fought valyuntly, and so dyde his compuny, and they advētured themselfe so forwarde, that they were ther all slayne, and the next day they were founde in the place about the kyng, and all their horses tyed eche to other.
7. The erle of Alansone came to the batayle right ordy notlye, and fought with thenglysshmen; and the erle of Flaunders also on his parte; these two lordes with their cōpanyes wosted the englysshe archers, and came to the princes batayle, and there fought valyantly longe. The frenche kynge wolde fayne have come thyder whanne hesaw their baners, but there was a great hedge of archers before hym. The same day the frenche kynge hadde gyven a great blacke courser to Sir John of Heynault, and he made the lorde Johan of Fussels to ryde on hym, and to bere his banerre; the same horse tooke the bridell in the tethe, and brought hym through all the currours of thē'glysshmen, and as he wolde have retourned agayne, he fell in a great dyke, and was sore hurt, and had been ther deed, and his page had not ben, who followed him through all the batayls, and sawe where his maister lay in the dyke, and had none other lette but for his horse, for thenglysshmen wolde not yssue out of their batayle, for takyng of any prisiner; thāne the page alyghted and relyved his maister, thun he went not backe agayn yesame way that they came, there was to many in his way.
8. This batyle bytwene Broy and Cressy, this Saturday was right cruell and fell, and many a feat of armes done, that came not to my knowledge; in the night, dyverse knyghtes and sqyers lost their maisters, and sometyme came on thenglysshmen, who receyved them in such wyse, that they were ever nighe slayne; for there was none taken to mercy nor to raunsome, for so thenglysshmen were determyned: in the mornyng the day of the batayle, certayne frenchmen and almaygnes perforce opyned the archers of the princes batayle, and came and fought with the men of armes hande to hande: than the seconde batayle of thenglysshmen came to sucour the princes batayle, the whiche was tyme, for they had as thān moche ado; and they with yeprince sent a messanger to the kynge, who was on a lytell wyndmyll hyll; thun the knyght sayd to the kyng, sir, therle of Warwyke, and therle of Cāfort, Sir Reynolde Cobham, and other, suche as be about the prince your sonne, as feersly fought with all, and ar sore handled, wherefore they desyre you, that you and your bataylewolle come and ayde them, for if the frenchmen encrease, as they dout they woll, your sonne and they shall have much ado.
9. Thun the kynge sayde, is my sonne deed or hurt, or on the yerthe felled? no sir, quoth the knyght, but he is hardely matched, wherefore he hath nede of your ayde. Well, sayde the king, returne to him, and to thrm that sent you hyther, and say to them, that they sende no more to me for an adventure that falleth, as long as my son is alyve, and also say to thē, that they suffre hym this day to wynne his spurres, for if god he pleased, I woll this journey be his, and the honoure therof, and to them that be aboute him. Thun the knyght returned agayn to thē, and shewed the kynges wordes, the which gretly encouraged them, and repoyned in that they had sende to the kynge as they dyd. Sir Godfray of Harecourt, wolde gladly that the erle of Harcourt, his brother, myghte have been saved, for he hurd say by thē that he sawe his baner, howe that he was ther in the felde on the french partie, but Sir Godfray coude not come to hym betymes for he was slayne or he coude coē at hym, and so also was therle of Almare, his nephue.
10. In another place the erle of Aleuson, and therle of Flaunders, fought valyantly, every lorde under his owne banere; but finally they coude not resyst agaynt the payssance of thenglysshmen, and so ther they were also slayne, and dyvers knyghtes and sqyers, also therle of Lewes of Bloyes, nephue to the frenche kyng, and the duke of Lorayne, fought under their baners, but at last they were closed in among a cōpany of englysshmen and welshmen, and were there slayed, for all their powers. Also there was slayne the erle of Ausser, therle of Saynt Poule, and many others.
11. In the evenynge, the frenche kynge, who had lefteabout hym no more than a threscore persons, one and other, whereof Sir John of Heynalt was one, who had remounted ones the kynge, for his horse was slayne with an arowe, thā sayde to the kynge, sir, departe hense, for it is tyme, lese not yourselfe wylfully, if ye have losse at this tyme, ye shall recover it agaynt another season, and soo he took the kynge's horse by the brydell, and ledde hym away in a maner perforce; than the kyng rode tyll he came to the castell of Broy. The gate was closed, because it was by that tyme darke; than the kynge called the captayne, who came to the walles, and sayd, Who is that calleth there this tyme of night? than the kynge sayde, open your gate quickly, for this is the fortune of Fraunce; the captayne knewe than it was the kyng, and opyned the gate, and let downe the bridge; than the kyng entred, and he had with hym but fyve baronnes, Sir Johan of Heynault, Sir Charles of Monmorency, the lorde of Beaureive, the lorde Dobegny, and the lorde of Mountfort; the kynge wolde not tary there, but drāke and departed thense about mydnyght, and so rode by suche guydes as knewe the country, tyll he came in the mornynge to Anyeuse, and then he rested. This saturday the englysshmen never departed for their batayls for chasynge of any man, but kept styll their felde, and ever defended themselfe agaynst all such as came to assayle them; the batayle ended about evynsonge tyme.