CHAPTER XIV--ENGLAND UNDER KING JOHN, CALLED LACKLAND
At two-and-thirty years of age, JOHN became King of England. His prettylittle nephew ARTHUR had the best claim to the throne; but John seizedthe treasure, and made fine promises to the nobility, and got himselfcrowned at Westminster within a few weeks after his brother Richard'sdeath. I doubt whether the crown could possibly have been put upon thehead of a meaner coward, or a more detestable villain, if England hadbeen searched from end to end to find him out.
The French King, Philip, refused to acknowledge the right of John to hisnew dignity, and declared in favour of Arthur. You must not suppose thathe had any generosity of feeling for the fatherless boy; it merely suitedhis ambitious schemes to oppose the King of England. So John and theFrench King went to war about Arthur.
He was a handsome boy, at that time only twelve years old. He was notborn when his father, Geoffrey, had his brains trampled out at thetournament; and, besides the misfortune of never having known a father'sguidance and protection, he had the additional misfortune to have afoolish mother (CONSTANCE by name), lately married to her third husband.She took Arthur, upon John's accession, to the French King, who pretendedto be very much his friend, and who made him a Knight, and promised himhis daughter in marriage; but, who cared so little about him in reality,that finding it his interest to make peace with King John for a time, hedid so without the least consideration for the poor little Prince, andheartlessly sacrificed all his interests.
Young Arthur, for two years afterwards, lived quietly; and in the courseof that time his mother died. But, the French King then finding it hisinterest to quarrel with King John again, again made Arthur his pretence,and invited the orphan boy to court. 'You know your rights, Prince,'said the French King, 'and you would like to be a King. Is it not so?''Truly,' said Prince Arthur, 'I should greatly like to be a King!''Then,' said Philip, 'you shall have two hundred gentlemen who areKnights of mine, and with them you shall go to win back the provincesbelonging to you, of which your uncle, the usurping King of England, hastaken possession. I myself, meanwhile, will head a force against him inNormandy.' Poor Arthur was so flattered and so grateful that he signed atreaty with the crafty French King, agreeing to consider him his superiorLord, and that the French King should keep for himself whatever he couldtake from King John.
Now, King John was so bad in all ways, and King Philip was so perfidious,that Arthur, between the two, might as well have been a lamb between afox and a wolf. But, being so young, he was ardent and flushed withhope; and, when the people of Brittany (which was his inheritance) senthim five hundred more knights and five thousand foot soldiers, hebelieved his fortune was made. The people of Brittany had been fond ofhim from his birth, and had requested that he might be called Arthur, inremembrance of that dimly-famous English Arthur, of whom I told you earlyin this book, whom they believed to have been the brave friend andcompanion of an old King of their own. They had tales among them about aprophet called MERLIN (of the same old time), who had foretold that theirown King should be restored to them after hundreds of years; and theybelieved that the prophecy would be fulfilled in Arthur; that the timewould come when he would rule them with a crown of Brittany upon hishead; and when neither King of France nor King of England would have anypower over them. When Arthur found himself riding in a glittering suitof armour on a richly caparisoned horse, at the head of his train ofknights and soldiers, he began to believe this too, and to consider oldMerlin a very superior prophet.
He did not know--how could he, being so innocent and inexperienced?--thathis little army was a mere nothing against the power of the King ofEngland. The French King knew it; but the poor boy's fate was little tohim, so that the King of England was worried and distressed. Therefore,King Philip went his way into Normandy and Prince Arthur went his waytowards Mirebeau, a French town near Poictiers, both very well pleased.
Prince Arthur went to attack the town of Mirebeau, because hisgrandmother Eleanor, who has so often made her appearance in this history(and who had always been his mother's enemy), was living there, andbecause his Knights said, 'Prince, if you can take her prisoner, you willbe able to bring the King your uncle to terms!' But she was not to beeasily taken. She was old enough by this time--eighty--but she was asfull of stratagem as she was full of years and wickedness. Receivingintelligence of young Arthur's approach, she shut herself up in a hightower, and encouraged her soldiers to defend it like men. Prince Arthurwith his little army besieged the high tower. King John, hearing howmatters stood, came up to the rescue, with _his_ army. So here was astrange family-party! The boy-Prince besieging his grandmother, and hisuncle besieging him!
This position of affairs did not last long. One summer night King John,by treachery, got his men into the town, surprised Prince Arthur's force,took two hundred of his knights, and seized the Prince himself in hisbed. The Knights were put in heavy irons, and driven away in open cartsdrawn by bullocks, to various dungeons where they were most inhumanlytreated, and where some of them were starved to death. Prince Arthur wassent to the castle of Falaise.
One day, while he was in prison at that castle, mournfully thinking itstrange that one so young should be in so much trouble, and looking outof the small window in the deep dark wall, at the summer sky and thebirds, the door was softly opened, and he saw his uncle the King standingin the shadow of the archway, looking very grim.
'Arthur,' said the King, with his wicked eyes more on the stone floorthan on his nephew, 'will you not trust to the gentleness, thefriendship, and the truthfulness of your loving uncle?'
'I will tell my loving uncle that,' replied the boy, 'when he does meright. Let him restore to me my kingdom of England, and then come to meand ask the question.'
The King looked at him and went out. 'Keep that boy close prisoner,'said he to the warden of the castle.
Then, the King took secret counsel with the worst of his nobles how thePrince was to be got rid of. Some said, 'Put out his eyes and keep himin prison, as Robort of Normandy was kept.' Others said, 'Have himstabbed.' Others, 'Have him hanged.' Others, 'Have him poisoned.'
King John, feeling that in any case, whatever was done afterwards, itwould be a satisfaction to his mind to have those handsome eyes burnt outthat had looked at him so proudly while his own royal eyes were blinkingat the stone floor, sent certain ruffians to Falaise to blind the boywith red-hot irons. But Arthur so pathetically entreated them, and shedsuch piteous tears, and so appealed to HUBERT DE BOURG (or BURGH), thewarden of the castle, who had a love for him, and was an honourable,tender man, that Hubert could not bear it. To his eternal honour heprevented the torture from being performed, and, at his own risk, sentthe savages away.
The chafed and disappointed King bethought himself of the stabbingsuggestion next, and, with his shuffling manner and his cruel face,proposed it to one William de Bray. 'I am a gentleman and not anexecutioner,' said William de Bray, and left the presence with disdain.
But it was not difficult for a King to hire a murderer in those days.King John found one for his money, and sent him down to the castle ofFalaise. 'On what errand dost thou come?' said Hubert to this fellow.'To despatch young Arthur,' he returned. 'Go back to him who sent thee,'answered Hubert, 'and say that I will do it!'
King John very well knowing that Hubert would never do it, but that hecourageously sent this reply to save the Prince or gain time, despatchedmessengers to convey the young prisoner to the castle of Rouen.
Arthur was soon forced from the good Hubert--of whom he had never stoodin greater need than then--carried away by night, and lodged in his newprison: where, through his grated window, he could hear the deep watersof the river Seine, rippling against the stone wall below.
One dark night, as he lay sleeping, dreaming perhaps of rescue by thoseunfortunate gentlemen who were obscurely suffering and dying in hiscause, he was roused, and bidden by his jailer to come down the staircaseto the foot of the tower. He hurriedly dressed himself and obeyed. Whenthey came to the bottom of the winding stairs, and the night air from theriver blew upon their faces, the jailer trod upon his torch and put itout. Then, Arthur, in the darkness, was hurriedly drawn into a solitaryboat. And in that boat, he found his uncle and one other man.
He knelt to them, and prayed them not to murder him. Deaf to hisentreaties, they stabbed him and sunk his body in the river with heavystones. When the spring-morning broke, the tower-door was closed, theboat was gone, the river sparkled on its way, and never more was anytrace of the poor boy beheld by mortal eyes.
The news of this atrocious murder being spread in England, awakened ahatred of the King (already odious for his many vices, and for his havingstolen away and married a noble lady while his own wife was living) thatnever slept again through his whole reign. In Brittany, the indignationwas intense. Arthur's own sister ELEANOR was in the power of John andshut up in a convent at Bristol, but his half-sister ALICE was inBrittany. The people chose her, and the murdered prince's father-in-law,the last husband of Constance, to represent them; and carried their fierycomplaints to King Philip. King Philip summoned King John (as the holderof territory in France) to come before him and defend himself. King Johnrefusing to appear, King Philip declared him false, perjured, and guilty;and again made war. In a little time, by conquering the greater part ofhis French territory, King Philip deprived him of one-third of hisdominions. And, through all the fighting that took place, King John wasalways found, either to be eating and drinking, like a gluttonous fool,when the danger was at a distance, or to be running away, like a beatencur, when it was near.
You might suppose that when he was losing his dominions at this rate, andwhen his own nobles cared so little for him or his cause that theyplainly refused to follow his banner out of England, he had enemiesenough. But he made another enemy of the Pope, which he did in this way.
The Archbishop of Canterbury dying, and the junior monks of that placewishing to get the start of the senior monks in the appointment of hissuccessor, met together at midnight, secretly elected a certain REGINALD,and sent him off to Rome to get the Pope's approval. The senior monksand the King soon finding this out, and being very angry about it, thejunior monks gave way, and all the monks together elected the Bishop ofNorwich, who was the King's favourite. The Pope, hearing the wholestory, declared that neither election would do for him, and that _he_elected STEPHEN LANGTON. The monks submitting to the Pope, the Kingturned them all out bodily, and banished them as traitors. The Pope sentthree bishops to the King, to threaten him with an Interdict. The Kingtold the bishops that if any Interdict were laid upon his kingdom, hewould tear out the eyes and cut off the noses of all the monks he couldlay hold of, and send them over to Rome in that undecorated state as apresent for their master. The bishops, nevertheless, soon published theInterdict, and fled.
After it had lasted a year, the Pope proceeded to his next step; whichwas Excommunication. King John was declared excommunicated, with all theusual ceremonies. The King was so incensed at this, and was made sodesperate by the disaffection of his Barons and the hatred of his people,that it is said he even privately sent ambassadors to the Turks in Spain,offering to renounce his religion and hold his kingdom of them if theywould help him. It is related that the ambassadors were admitted to thepresence of the Turkish Emir through long lines of Moorish guards, andthat they found the Emir with his eyes seriously fixed on the pages of alarge book, from which he never once looked up. That they gave him aletter from the King containing his proposals, and were gravelydismissed. That presently the Emir sent for one of them, and conjuredhim, by his faith in his religion, to say what kind of man the King ofEngland truly was? That the ambassador, thus pressed, replied that theKing of England was a false tyrant, against whom his own subjects wouldsoon rise. And that this was quite enough for the Emir.
Money being, in his position, the next best thing to men, King Johnspared no means of getting it. He set on foot another oppressing andtorturing of the unhappy Jews (which was quite in his way), and inventeda new punishment for one wealthy Jew of Bristol. Until such time as thatJew should produce a certain large sum of money, the King sentenced himto be imprisoned, and, every day, to have one tooth violently wrenchedout of his head--beginning with the double teeth. For seven days, theoppressed man bore the daily pain and lost the daily tooth; but, on theeighth, he paid the money. With the treasure raised in such ways, theKing made an expedition into Ireland, where some English nobles hadrevolted. It was one of the very few places from which he did not runaway; because no resistance was shown. He made another expedition intoWales--whence he _did_ run away in the end: but not before he had gotfrom the Welsh people, as hostages, twenty-seven young men of the bestfamilies; every one of whom he caused to be slain in the following year.
To Interdict and Excommunication, the Pope now added his last sentence;Deposition. He proclaimed John no longer King, absolved all his subjectsfrom their allegiance, and sent Stephen Langton and others to the King ofFrance to tell him that, if he would invade England, he should beforgiven all his sins--at least, should be forgiven them by the Pope, ifthat would do.
As there was nothing that King Philip desired more than to invadeEngland, he collected a great army at Rouen, and a fleet of seventeenhundred ships to bring them over. But the English people, howeverbitterly they hated the King, were not a people to suffer invasionquietly. They flocked to Dover, where the English standard was, in suchgreat numbers to enrol themselves as defenders of their native land, thatthere were not provisions for them, and the King could only select andretain sixty thousand. But, at this crisis, the Pope, who had his ownreasons for objecting to either King John or King Philip being toopowerful, interfered. He entrusted a legate, whose name was PANDOLF,with the easy task of frightening King John. He sent him to the EnglishCamp, from France, to terrify him with exaggerations of King Philip'spower, and his own weakness in the discontent of the English Barons andpeople. Pandolf discharged his commission so well, that King John, in awretched panic, consented to acknowledge Stephen Langton; to resign hiskingdom 'to God, Saint Peter, and Saint Paul'--which meant the Pope; andto hold it, ever afterwards, by the Pope's leave, on payment of an annualsum of money. To this shameful contract he publicly bound himself in thechurch of the Knights Templars at Dover: where he laid at the legate'sfeet a part of the tribute, which the legate haughtily trampled upon. Butthey _do_ say, that this was merely a genteel flourish, and that he wasafterwards seen to pick it up and pocket it.
There was an unfortunate prophet, the name of Peter, who had greatlyincreased King John's terrors by predicting that he would be unknighted(which the King supposed to signify that he would die) before the Feastof the Ascension should be past. That was the day after thishumiliation. When the next morning came, and the King, who had beentrembling all night, found himself alive and safe, he ordered theprophet--and his son too--to be dragged through the streets at the tailsof horses, and then hanged, for having frightened him.
As King John had now submitted, the Pope, to King Philip's greatastonishment, took him under his protection, and informed King Philipthat he found he could not give him leave to invade England. The angryPhilip resolved to do it without his leave but he gained nothing and lostmuch; for, the English, commanded by the Earl of Salisbury, went over, infive hundred ships, to the French coast, before the French fleet hadsailed away from it, and utterly defeated the whole.
The Pope then took off his three sentences, one after another, andempowered Stephen Langton publicly to receive King John into the favourof the Church again, and to ask him to dinner. The King, who hatedLangton with all his might and main--and with reason too, for he was agreat and a good man, with whom such a King could have nosympathy--pretended to cry and to be _very_ grateful. There was a littledifficulty about settling how much the King should pay as a recompense tothe clergy for the losses he had caused them; but, the end of it was,that the superior clergy got a good deal, and the inferior clergy gotlittle or nothing--which has also happened since King John's time, Ibelieve.
When all these matters were arranged, the King in his triumph became morefierce, and false, and insolent to all around him than he had ever been.An alliance of sovereigns against King Philip, gave him an opportunity oflanding an army in France; with which he even took a town! But, on theFrench King's gaining a great victory, he ran away, of course, and made atruce for five years.
And now the time approached when he was to be still further humbled, andmade to feel, if he could feel anything, what a wretched creature he was.Of all men in the world, Stephen Langton seemed raised up by Heaven tooppose and subdue him. When he ruthlessly burnt and destroyed theproperty of his own subjects, because their Lords, the Barons, would notserve him abroad, Stephen Langton fearlessly reproved and threatened him.When he swore to restore the laws of King Edward, or the laws of KingHenry the First, Stephen Langton knew his falsehood, and pursued himthrough all his evasions. When the Barons met at the abbey of SaintEdmund's-Bury, to consider their wrongs and the King's oppressions,Stephen Langton roused them by his fervid words to demand a solemncharter of rights and liberties from their perjured master, and to swear,one by one, on the High Altar, that they would have it, or would wage waragainst him to the death. When the King hid himself in London from theBarons, and was at last obliged to receive them, they told him roundlythey would not believe him unless Stephen Langton became a surety that hewould keep his word. When he took the Cross to invest himself with someinterest, and belong to something that was received with favour, StephenLangton was still immovable. When he appealed to the Pope, and the Popewrote to Stephen Langton in behalf of his new favourite, Stephen Langtonwas deaf, even to the Pope himself, and saw before him nothing but thewelfare of England and the crimes of the English King.
At Easter-time, the Barons assembled at Stamford, in Lincolnshire, inproud array, and, marching near to Oxford where the King was, deliveredinto the hands of Stephen Langton and two others, a list of grievances.'And these,' they said, 'he must redress, or we will do it forourselves!' When Stephen Langton told the King as much, and read thelist to him, he went half mad with rage. But that did him no more goodthan his afterwards trying to pacify the Barons with lies. They calledthemselves and their followers, 'The army of God and the Holy Church.'Marching through the country, with the people thronging to themeverywhere (except at Northampton, where they failed in an attack uponthe castle), they at last triumphantly set up their banner in Londonitself, whither the whole land, tired of the tyrant, seemed to flock tojoin them. Seven knights alone, of all the knights in England, remainedwith the King; who, reduced to this strait, at last sent the Earl ofPembroke to the Barons to say that he approved of everything, and wouldmeet them to sign their charter when they would. 'Then,' said theBarons, 'let the day be the fifteenth of June, and the place,Runny-Mead.'
On Monday, the fifteenth of June, one thousand two hundred and fourteen,the King came from Windsor Castle, and the Barons came from the town ofStaines, and they met on Runny-Mead, which is still a pleasant meadow bythe Thames, where rushes grow in the clear water of the winding river,and its banks are green with grass and trees. On the side of the Barons,came the General of their army, ROBERT FITZ-WALTER, and a great concourseof the nobility of England. With the King, came, in all, some four-and-twenty persons of any note, most of whom despised him, and were merelyhis advisers in form. On that great day, and in that great company, theKing signed MAGNA CHARTA--the great charter of England--by which hepledged himself to maintain the Church in its rights; to relieve theBarons of oppressive obligations as vassals of the Crown--of which theBarons, in their turn, pledged themselves to relieve _their_ vassals, thepeople; to respect the liberties of London and all other cities andboroughs; to protect foreign merchants who came to England; to imprisonno man without a fair trial; and to sell, delay, or deny justice to none.As the Barons knew his falsehood well, they further required, as theirsecurities, that he should send out of his kingdom all his foreigntroops; that for two months they should hold possession of the city ofLondon, and Stephen Langton of the Tower; and that five-and-twenty oftheir body, chosen by themselves, should be a lawful committee to watchthe keeping of the charter, and to make war upon him if he broke it.
All this he was obliged to yield. He signed the charter with a smile,and, if he could have looked agreeable, would have done so, as hedeparted from the splendid assembly. When he got home to Windsor Castle,he was quite a madman in his helpless fury. And he broke the charterimmediately afterwards.
He sent abroad for foreign soldiers, and sent to the Pope for help, andplotted to take London by surprise, while the Barons should be holding agreat tournament at Stamford, which they had agreed to hold there as acelebration of the charter. The Barons, however, found him out and putit off. Then, when the Barons desired to see him and tax him with histreachery, he made numbers of appointments with them, and kept none, andshifted from place to place, and was constantly sneaking and skulkingabout. At last he appeared at Dover, to join his foreign soldiers, ofwhom numbers came into his pay; and with them he besieged and tookRochester Castle, which was occupied by knights and soldiers of theBarons. He would have hanged them every one; but the leader of theforeign soldiers, fearful of what the English people might afterwards doto him, interfered to save the knights; therefore the King was fain tosatisfy his vengeance with the death of all the common men. Then, hesent the Earl of Salisbury, with one portion of his army, to ravage theeastern part of his own dominions, while he carried fire and slaughterinto the northern part; torturing, plundering, killing, and inflictingevery possible cruelty upon the people; and, every morning, setting aworthy example to his men by setting fire, with his own monster-hands, tothe house where he had slept last night. Nor was this all; for the Pope,coming to the aid of his precious friend, laid the kingdom under anInterdict again, because the people took part with the Barons. It didnot much matter, for the people had grown so used to it now, that theyhad begun to think nothing about it. It occurred to them--perhaps toStephen Langton too--that they could keep their churches open, and ringtheir bells, without the Pope's permission as well as with it. So, theytried the experiment--and found that it succeeded perfectly.
It being now impossible to bear the country, as a wilderness of cruelty,or longer to hold any terms with such a forsworn outlaw of a King, theBarons sent to Louis, son of the French monarch, to offer him the Englishcrown. Caring as little for the Pope's excommunication of him if heaccepted the offer, as it is possible his father may have cared for thePope's forgiveness of his sins, he landed at Sandwich (King Johnimmediately running away from Dover, where he happened to be), and wenton to London. The Scottish King, with whom many of the Northern EnglishLords had taken refuge; numbers of the foreign soldiers, numbers of theBarons, and numbers of the people went over to him every day;--King John,the while, continually running away in all directions.
The career of Louis was checked however, by the suspicions of the Barons,founded on the dying declaration of a French Lord, that when the kingdomwas conquered he was sworn to banish them as traitors, and to give theirestates to some of his own Nobles. Rather than suffer this, some of theBarons hesitated: others even went over to King John.
It seemed to be the turning-point of King John's fortunes, for, in hissavage and murderous course, he had now taken some towns and met withsome successes. But, happily for England and humanity, his death wasnear. Crossing a dangerous quicksand, called the Wash, not very far fromWisbeach, the tide came up and nearly drowned his army. He and hissoldiers escaped; but, looking back from the shore when he was safe, hesaw the roaring water sweep down in a torrent, overturn the waggons,horses, and men, that carried his treasure, and engulf them in a ragingwhirlpool from which nothing could be delivered.
Cursing, and swearing, and gnawing his fingers, he went on to SwinesteadAbbey, where the monks set before him quantities of pears, and peaches,and new cider--some say poison too, but there is very little reason tosuppose so--of which he ate and drank in an immoderate and beastly way.All night he lay ill of a burning fever, and haunted with horrible fears.Next day, they put him in a horse-litter, and carried him to SleafordCastle, where he passed another night of pain and horror. Next day, theycarried him, with greater difficulty than on the day before, to thecastle of Newark upon Trent; and there, on the eighteenth of October, inthe forty-ninth year of his age, and the seventeenth of his vile reign,was an end of this miserable brute.