CHAPTER XVII--ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE SECOND
King Edward the Second, the first Prince of Wales, was twenty-three yearsold when his father died. There was a certain favourite of his, a youngman from Gascony, named PIERS GAVESTON, of whom his father had so muchdisapproved that he had ordered him out of England, and had made his sonswear by the side of his sick-bed, never to bring him back. But, thePrince no sooner found himself King, than he broke his oath, as so manyother Princes and Kings did (they were far too ready to take oaths), andsent for his dear friend immediately.
Now, this same Gaveston was handsome enough, but was a reckless,insolent, audacious fellow. He was detested by the proud English Lords:not only because he had such power over the King, and made the Court sucha dissipated place, but, also, because he could ride better than they attournaments, and was used, in his impudence, to cut very bad jokes onthem; calling one, the old hog; another, the stage-player; another, theJew; another, the black dog of Ardenne. This was as poor wit as need be,but it made those Lords very wroth; and the surly Earl of Warwick, whowas the black dog, swore that the time should come when Piers Gavestonshould feel the black dog's teeth.
It was not come yet, however, nor did it seem to be coming. The Kingmade him Earl of Cornwall, and gave him vast riches; and, when the Kingwent over to France to marry the French Princess, ISABELLA, daughter ofPHILIP LE BEL: who was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world:he made Gaveston, Regent of the Kingdom. His splendid marriage-ceremonyin the Church of Our Lady at Boulogne, where there were four Kings andthree Queens present (quite a pack of Court Cards, for I dare say theKnaves were not wanting), being over, he seemed to care little or nothingfor his beautiful wife; but was wild with impatience to meet Gavestonagain.
When he landed at home, he paid no attention to anybody else, but raninto the favourite's arms before a great concourse of people, and huggedhim, and kissed him, and called him his brother. At the coronation whichsoon followed, Gaveston was the richest and brightest of all theglittering company there, and had the honour of carrying the crown. Thismade the proud Lords fiercer than ever; the people, too, despised thefavourite, and would never call him Earl of Cornwall, however much hecomplained to the King and asked him to punish them for not doing so, butpersisted in styling him plain Piers Gaveston.
The Barons were so unceremonious with the King in giving him tounderstand that they would not bear this favourite, that the King wasobliged to send him out of the country. The favourite himself was madeto take an oath (more oaths!) that he would never come back, and theBarons supposed him to be banished in disgrace, until they heard that hewas appointed Governor of Ireland. Even this was not enough for thebesotted King, who brought him home again in a year's time, and not onlydisgusted the Court and the people by his doting folly, but offended hisbeautiful wife too, who never liked him afterwards.
He had now the old Royal want--of money--and the Barons had the new powerof positively refusing to let him raise any. He summoned a Parliament atYork; the Barons refused to make one, while the favourite was near him.He summoned another Parliament at Westminster, and sent Gaveston away.Then, the Barons came, completely armed, and appointed a committee ofthemselves to correct abuses in the state and in the King's household. Hegot some money on these conditions, and directly set off with Gaveston tothe Border-country, where they spent it in idling away the time, andfeasting, while Bruce made ready to drive the English out of Scotland.For, though the old King had even made this poor weak son of his swear(as some say) that he would not bury his bones, but would have themboiled clean in a caldron, and carried before the English army untilScotland was entirely subdued, the second Edward was so unlike the firstthat Bruce gained strength and power every day.
The committee of Nobles, after some months of deliberation, ordained thatthe King should henceforth call a Parliament together, once every year,and even twice if necessary, instead of summoning it only when he chose.Further, that Gaveston should once more be banished, and, this time, onpain of death if he ever came back. The King's tears were of no avail;he was obliged to send his favourite to Flanders. As soon as he had doneso, however, he dissolved the Parliament, with the low cunning of a merefool, and set off to the North of England, thinking to get an army abouthim to oppose the Nobles. And once again he brought Gaveston home, andheaped upon him all the riches and titles of which the Barons haddeprived him.
The Lords saw, now, that there was nothing for it but to put thefavourite to death. They could have done so, legally, according to theterms of his banishment; but they did so, I am sorry to say, in a shabbymanner. Led by the Earl of Lancaster, the King's cousin, they first ofall attacked the King and Gaveston at Newcastle. They had time to escapeby sea, and the mean King, having his precious Gaveston with him, wasquite content to leave his lovely wife behind. When they werecomparatively safe, they separated; the King went to York to collect aforce of soldiers; and the favourite shut himself up, in the meantime, inScarborough Castle overlooking the sea. This was what the Barons wanted.They knew that the Castle could not hold out; they attacked it, and madeGaveston surrender. He delivered himself up to the Earl of Pembroke--thatLord whom he had called the Jew--on the Earl's pledging his faith andknightly word, that no harm should happen to him and no violence be donehim.
Now, it was agreed with Gaveston that he should be taken to the Castle ofWallingford, and there kept in honourable custody. They travelled as faras Dedington, near Banbury, where, in the Castle of that place, theystopped for a night to rest. Whether the Earl of Pembroke left hisprisoner there, knowing what would happen, or really left him thinking noharm, and only going (as he pretended) to visit his wife, the Countess,who was in the neighbourhood, is no great matter now; in any case, he wasbound as an honourable gentleman to protect his prisoner, and he did notdo it. In the morning, while the favourite was yet in bed, he wasrequired to dress himself and come down into the court-yard. He did sowithout any mistrust, but started and turned pale when he found it fullof strange armed men. 'I think you know me?' said their leader, alsoarmed from head to foot. 'I am the black dog of Ardenne!' The time wascome when Piers Gaveston was to feel the black dog's teeth indeed. Theyset him on a mule, and carried him, in mock state and with militarymusic, to the black dog's kennel--Warwick Castle--where a hasty council,composed of some great noblemen, considered what should be done with him.Some were for sparing him, but one loud voice--it was the black dog'sbark, I dare say--sounded through the Castle Hall, uttering these words:'You have the fox in your power. Let him go now, and you must hunt himagain.'
They sentenced him to death. He threw himself at the feet of the Earl ofLancaster--the old hog--but the old hog was as savage as the dog. He wastaken out upon the pleasant road, leading from Warwick to Coventry, wherethe beautiful river Avon, by which, long afterwards, WILLIAM SHAKESPEAREwas born and now lies buried, sparkled in the bright landscape of thebeautiful May-day; and there they struck off his wretched head, andstained the dust with his blood.
When the King heard of this black deed, in his grief and rage hedenounced relentless war against his Barons, and both sides were in armsfor half a year. But, it then became necessary for them to join theirforces against Bruce, who had used the time well while they were divided,and had now a great power in Scotland.
Intelligence was brought that Bruce was then besieging Stirling Castle,and that the Governor had been obliged to pledge himself to surrender it,unless he should be relieved before a certain day. Hereupon, the Kingordered the nobles and their fighting-men to meet him at Berwick; but,the nobles cared so little for the King, and so neglected the summons,and lost time, that only on the day before that appointed for thesurrender, did the King find himself at Stirling, and even then with asmaller force than he had expected. However, he had, altogether, ahundred thousand men, and Bruce had not more than forty thousand; but,Bruce's army was strongly posted in three square columns, on the groundlying between the Burn or Brook of Bannock and the walls of StirlingCastle.
On the very evening, when the King came up, Bruce did a brave act thatencouraged his men. He was seen by a certain HENRY DE BOHUN, an EnglishKnight, riding about before his army on a little horse, with a lightbattle-axe in his hand, and a crown of gold on his head. This EnglishKnight, who was mounted on a strong war-horse, cased in steel, stronglyarmed, and able (as he thought) to overthrow Bruce by crushing him withhis mere weight, set spurs to his great charger, rode on him, and made athrust at him with his heavy spear. Bruce parried the thrust, and withone blow of his battle-axe split his skull.
The Scottish men did not forget this, next day when the battle raged.RANDOLPH, Bruce's valiant Nephew, rode, with the small body of men hecommanded, into such a host of the English, all shining in polishedarmour in the sunlight, that they seemed to be swallowed up and lost, asif they had plunged into the sea. But, they fought so well, and did suchdreadful execution, that the English staggered. Then came Bruce himselfupon them, with all the rest of his army. While they were thus hardpressed and amazed, there appeared upon the hills what they supposed tobe a new Scottish army, but what were really only the camp followers, innumber fifteen thousand: whom Bruce had taught to show themselves at thatplace and time. The Earl of Gloucester, commanding the English horse,made a last rush to change the fortune of the day; but Bruce (like Jackthe Giant-killer in the story) had had pits dug in the ground, andcovered over with turfs and stakes. Into these, as they gave way beneaththe weight of the horses, riders and horses rolled by hundreds. TheEnglish were completely routed; all their treasure, stores, and engines,were taken by the Scottish men; so many waggons and other wheeledvehicles were seized, that it is related that they would have reached, ifthey had been drawn out in a line, one hundred and eighty miles. Thefortunes of Scotland were, for the time, completely changed; and neverwas a battle won, more famous upon Scottish ground, than this greatbattle of BANNOCKBURN.
Plague and famine succeeded in England; and still the powerless King andhis disdainful Lords were always in contention. Some of the turbulentchiefs of Ireland made proposals to Bruce, to accept the rule of thatcountry. He sent his brother Edward to them, who was crowned King ofIreland. He afterwards went himself to help his brother in his Irishwars, but his brother was defeated in the end and killed. Robert Bruce,returning to Scotland, still increased his strength there.
As the King's ruin had begun in a favourite, so it seemed likely to endin one. He was too poor a creature to rely at all upon himself; and hisnew favourite was one HUGH LE DESPENSER, the son of a gentleman ofancient family. Hugh was handsome and brave, but he was the favourite ofa weak King, whom no man cared a rush for, and that was a dangerous placeto hold. The Nobles leagued against him, because the King liked him; andthey lay in wait, both for his ruin and his father's. Now, the King hadmarried him to the daughter of the late Earl of Gloucester, and had givenboth him and his father great possessions in Wales. In their endeavoursto extend these, they gave violent offence to an angry Welsh gentleman,named JOHN DE MOWBRAY, and to divers other angry Welsh gentlemen, whoresorted to arms, took their castles, and seized their estates. The Earlof Lancaster had first placed the favourite (who was a poor relation ofhis own) at Court, and he considered his own dignity offended by thepreference he received and the honours he acquired; so he, and the Baronswho were his friends, joined the Welshmen, marched on London, and sent amessage to the King demanding to have the favourite and his fatherbanished. At first, the King unaccountably took it into his head to bespirited, and to send them a bold reply; but when they quarteredthemselves around Holborn and Clerkenwell, and went down, armed, to theParliament at Westminster, he gave way, and complied with their demands.
His turn of triumph came sooner than he expected. It arose out of anaccidental circumstance. The beautiful Queen happening to be travelling,came one night to one of the royal castles, and demanded to be lodged andentertained there until morning. The governor of this castle, who wasone of the enraged lords, was away, and in his absence, his wife refusedadmission to the Queen; a scuffle took place among the common men oneither side, and some of the royal attendants were killed. The people,who cared nothing for the King, were very angry that their beautifulQueen should be thus rudely treated in her own dominions; and the King,taking advantage of this feeling, besieged the castle, took it, and thencalled the two Despensers home. Upon this, the confederate lords and theWelshmen went over to Bruce. The King encountered them at Boroughbridge,gained the victory, and took a number of distinguished prisoners; amongthem, the Earl of Lancaster, now an old man, upon whose destruction hewas resolved. This Earl was taken to his own castle of Pontefract, andthere tried and found guilty by an unfair court appointed for thepurpose; he was not even allowed to speak in his own defence. He wasinsulted, pelted, mounted on a starved pony without saddle or bridle,carried out, and beheaded. Eight-and-twenty knights were hanged, drawn,and quartered. When the King had despatched this bloody work, and hadmade a fresh and a long truce with Bruce, he took the Despensers intogreater favour than ever, and made the father Earl of Winchester.
One prisoner, and an important one, who was taken at Boroughbridge, madehis escape, however, and turned the tide against the King. This wasROGER MORTIMER, always resolutely opposed to him, who was sentenced todeath, and placed for safe custody in the Tower of London. He treatedhis guards to a quantity of wine into which he had put a sleeping potion;and, when they were insensible, broke out of his dungeon, got into akitchen, climbed up the chimney, let himself down from the roof of thebuilding with a rope-ladder, passed the sentries, got down to the river,and made away in a boat to where servants and horses were waiting forhim. He finally escaped to France, where CHARLES LE BEL, the brother ofthe beautiful Queen, was King. Charles sought to quarrel with the Kingof England, on pretence of his not having come to do him homage at hiscoronation. It was proposed that the beautiful Queen should go over toarrange the dispute; she went, and wrote home to the King, that as he wassick and could not come to France himself, perhaps it would be better tosend over the young Prince, their son, who was only twelve years old, whocould do homage to her brother in his stead, and in whose company shewould immediately return. The King sent him: but, both he and the Queenremained at the French Court, and Roger Mortimer became the Queen'slover.
When the King wrote, again and again, to the Queen to come home, she didnot reply that she despised him too much to live with him any more (whichwas the truth), but said she was afraid of the two Despensers. In short,her design was to overthrow the favourites' power, and the King's power,such as it was, and invade England. Having obtained a French force oftwo thousand men, and being joined by all the English exiles then inFrance, she landed, within a year, at Orewell, in Suffolk, where she wasimmediately joined by the Earls of Kent and Norfolk, the King's twobrothers; by other powerful noblemen; and lastly, by the first Englishgeneral who was despatched to check her: who went over to her with allhis men. The people of London, receiving these tidings, would do nothingfor the King, but broke open the Tower, let out all his prisoners, andthrew up their caps and hurrahed for the beautiful Queen.
The King, with his two favourites, fled to Bristol, where he left oldDespenser in charge of the town and castle, while he went on with the sonto Wales. The Bristol men being opposed to the King, and it beingimpossible to hold the town with enemies everywhere within the walls,Despenser yielded it up on the third day, and was instantly brought totrial for having traitorously influenced what was called 'the King'smind'--though I doubt if the King ever had any. He was a venerable oldman, upwards of ninety years of age, but his age gained no respect ormercy. He was hanged, torn open while he was yet alive, cut up intopieces, and thrown to the dogs. His son was soon taken, tried atHereford before the same judge on a long series of foolish charges, foundguilty, and hanged upon a gallows fifty feet high, with a chaplet ofnettles round his head. His poor old father and he were innocent enoughof any worse crimes than the crime of having been friends of a King, onwhom, as a mere man, they would never have deigned to cast a favourablelook. It is a bad crime, I know, and leads to worse; but, many lords andgentlemen--I even think some ladies, too, if I recollect right--havecommitted it in England, who have neither been given to the dogs, norhanged up fifty feet high.
The wretched King was running here and there, all this time, and nevergetting anywhere in particular, until he gave himself up, and was takenoff to Kenilworth Castle. When he was safely lodged there, the Queenwent to London and met the Parliament. And the Bishop of Hereford, whowas the most skilful of her friends, said, What was to be done now? Herewas an imbecile, indolent, miserable King upon the throne; wouldn't it bebetter to take him off, and put his son there instead? I don't knowwhether the Queen really pitied him at this pass, but she began to cry;so, the Bishop said, Well, my Lords and Gentlemen, what do you think,upon the whole, of sending down to Kenilworth, and seeing if His Majesty(God bless him, and forbid we should depose him!) won't resign?
My Lords and Gentlemen thought it a good notion, so a deputation of themwent down to Kenilworth; and there the King came into the great hall ofthe Castle, commonly dressed in a poor black gown; and when he saw acertain bishop among them, fell down, poor feeble-headed man, and made awretched spectacle of himself. Somebody lifted him up, and then SIRWILLIAM TRUSSEL, the Speaker of the House of Commons, almost frightenedhim to death by making him a tremendous speech to the effect that he wasno longer a King, and that everybody renounced allegiance to him. Afterwhich, SIR THOMAS BLOUNT, the Steward of the Household, nearly finishedhim, by coming forward and breaking his white wand--which was a ceremonyonly performed at a King's death. Being asked in this pressing mannerwhat he thought of resigning, the King said he thought it was the bestthing he could do. So, he did it, and they proclaimed his son next day.
I wish I could close his history by saying that he lived a harmless lifein the Castle and the Castle gardens at Kenilworth, many years--that hehad a favourite, and plenty to eat and drink--and, having that, wantednothing. But he was shamefully humiliated. He was outraged, andslighted, and had dirty water from ditches given him to shave with, andwept and said he would have clean warm water, and was altogether verymiserable. He was moved from this castle to that castle, and from thatcastle to the other castle, because this lord or that lord, or the otherlord, was too kind to him: until at last he came to Berkeley Castle, nearthe River Severn, where (the Lord Berkeley being then ill and absent) hefell into the hands of two black ruffians, called THOMAS GOURNAY andWILLIAM OGLE.
One night--it was the night of September the twenty-first, one thousandthree hundred and twenty-seven--dreadful screams were heard, by thestartled people in the neighbouring town, ringing through the thick wallsof the Castle, and the dark, deep night; and they said, as they were thushorribly awakened from their sleep, 'May Heaven be merciful to the King;for those cries forbode that no good is being done to him in his dismalprison!' Next morning he was dead--not bruised, or stabbed, or markedupon the body, but much distorted in the face; and it was whisperedafterwards, that those two villains, Gournay and Ogle, had burnt up hisinside with a red-hot iron.
If you ever come near Gloucester, and see the centre tower of itsbeautiful Cathedral, with its four rich pinnacles, rising lightly in theair; you may remember that the wretched Edward the Second was buried inthe old abbey of that ancient city, at forty-three years old, after beingfor nineteen years and a half a perfectly incapable King.