Upon this daie of King Richard's coronation, the Jewes that dwelt in

London and in other parts of the realme, being there assembled, had but

sorie hap, as it chanced. For they meaning to honour the same coronation

with their presence, and to present to the king some honourable gift,

whereby they might declare themselves glad for his advancement, and

procure his freendship towards them, for the confirming of their

privileges and liberties; he of a zealous mind to Christes religion,

abhorring their nation (and doubting some sorcerie by them to be

practised) commanded that they should not come within the church when he

should receive the crowne, nor within the palace whilest he was at

dinner.

But at dinner-time, among other that pressed in at the palace gate,

diverse of the Jews were about to thrust in, till one of them was

striken by a Christian, who alledging the king's commandment, kept them

backe from comming within the palace. Which some of the unrulie people,

perceiving, and supposing it had been done by the king's commandement,

tooke lightlie occasion thereof, and falling upon the Jewes with staves,

bats, and stones, beat them and chased them home to their houses and

lodgings. Then did they set fire on the houses, and the Jewes within

were either smoldred and burned to death within, or else at their

comming forth most cruellie received upon the points of speares, billes,

and swords of their adversaries that watched for them verie diligentlie.

This great riot well deserved sere and grievous punishment, but yet it

passed over without correction, because of the hatred generallie

conceived against the obstinate frowardnesse of the Jewes. Finallie,

after the tumult was ceased, the king commanded that no man should hurt

or harm any of the Jewes, and so they were restored to peace after they

had susteined infinit damage.

No great while after this his coronation, the king sought to prepare

himself to journey to the holie land, and to this end he had great need

of money. Therefore he made such sale of things appertaining to him, as

well in right of the crowne, as otherwise, that it seemed to divers that

he made his reckoning never to return agan, in so much that some of his

councillors told him plainelie, that he did not well in making things

awaie so freelie; unto whom he answered "that in time of need it was no

evill policie for a man to help himself with his owne." and further,

"that if London at that time of need would be bought, he would surelie

sell it, if he might meet with a convenient merchant that were able to

give him monie enough for it."

Then all things being readie, King Richard set forth, and, after great

hindrance by tempests, and at the hands of the men of Cyprus, who warred

against him and were overcome, he came to the citie of Acres, which then

was besieged by the Christian armie. Such was the valiancie of King

Richard shown in manfull constraining of the citie, that his praise was

greatly bruted both amongst the Christians and also the Saracens.

At last, on the twelfth date of Julie, in the yeare of grace 1192, the

citie of Acres was surrendered into the Christian men's hands. These

things being concluded, the French King Philip, upon envie and malice

conceived against King Richard (although he pretended sickness for

excuse) departed homewards. Now touching this departure, divers

occasions are remembered by writers of the emulation and secret spite

which he should bear towards King Richard. But, howsoever, it came to

passe, partlie through envie (as hath beene thought) conceived at the

great deeds of King Richard, whose mightie power and valiantnesse he

could not well abide, and partlie for other respects him moving, he took

the sea with three gallies of the Genevois, and returned into Italie,

and so home into France, having promised first unto King Richard in the

holie land, and after to pope Celestine at Rome, that he would not

attempt any hurtfull enterprise against the English dominions, till King

Richard should be returned out of the holie land. But this promise was

not kept, for he sought to procure Earle John, King Richard's brother,

to rebell against him, though he then sought it in vaine.

Yet were matters nowise peacefull within the realme of England, and

because of this, and likewise because the froward humours of the French

so greatlie hindered him in warring against the Saracens, King Richard

determined fullie to depart homewards, and at last there was a peace

concluded with Saladin. But on his journie homewards the King had but

sorie hap, for he made shipwracke on the coast of Istria, and then fell

into captivitie; and this was the manner that it came to passe.

_IV.--Of King Richard's Captivitie_

King Richard, doubting to fall into the hands of those who might bear

him ill-will, made the best shift he could to passe through quietlie,

yet were many of his servants made captive, and he himself came with but

three men to Vienna. There causing his servants to provide meat for him

more sumptuous and fine than was thought requisite for so meane a person

as he counterfeited then, he was straightway remarked, and some gave

knowledge to the Duke of Austrich named Leopold, who loved him not for

some matter that had passed in the holie land. Moreover, his page, going

about the towne to change gold, and buy vittels, bewraied him, having by

chance the King's gloves under his girdle: whereupon, being examined,

for fear of tortures he confessed the truth.

The Duke sent men to apprehend him, but he, being warie that he was

descried, got him to his weapon; but they alledging the Duke's

commandement, he boldly answered, "that sith he must be taken, he being

a King, would yeeld himselfe to none of the companie but to the Duke

alone." The Duke hearing of this, speedilie came unto him, whom he

meeting, delivered up his sword, and committed him unto his custodie.

Then was he brought before the princes and lords of the empire, in whose

presence the emperour charged him with diverse unlawfull doings. King

Richard notwithstanding the vaine and frivolous objections laid to his

charge, made his answers always so pithilie and directlie to all that

could be laid against him, and excused himself e in everie point so

thoroughlie, that the emperour much marvelled at his high wisdom and

prudence, and not onelie greatlie commended him for the same, but from

thenceforth used him more courteously. Yet did King Richard perceive

that no excuses would serve, but that he must paie to his covetous host

some great summe of monie for his hard entertainment. Therefore he sent

the bishop of Salisburie into England to provide for the paiment of his

ransome.

Finallie the King, after he had beene prisoner one yeare, six weekes,

and three daies, was set at libertie on Candle-mass day, and then with

long and hastie journies, not keeping the high waies, he hasted forth

towards England. It is reported that if he had lingered by the way, he

had beene eftsoones apprehended. For the emperour being incensed against

him by ambassadors that came from the French king, immediatlie after he

was set forward, began to repent himselfe in that he had suffered him so

soon to depart from him, and hereupon sent men after him with all speed

to bring him backe if they could by any means overtake him, meaning as

then to have kept him in perpetual prison. But these his knavish tricks

being in the good providence of God defeated, King Richard at length in

good safetie landed at Sandwich, and the morrow after came to

Canterburie, where he was received with procession. From thence he came

unto London, where he was received with great joy and gladnesse of the

people, giving heartie thanks to almightie God for his safe return and

deliverance.

The same yeare that King Richard was taken by the Duke of Austrich, one

night in the month of Januarie about the first watch of the night, the

northwest side of the element appeared of such a ruddie colour as though

it had burned, without any clouds or other darknesse to cover it, so

that the stars showed through that redness and might be verie well

discerned. Diverse bright strakes appeared to flash upwards now and

then, dividing the rednesse, through the which the stars seemed to be of

a bright sanguine colour.

In Februarie next insuing, one night after midnight the like wonder was

seene and shortlie after newes came that the king was taken in Almaigne.

And the same daie and selfe houre that the king arrived at Sandwich,

whitest the sunne shone verie bright and cleare, there appeared a most

brightsome and unaccustomed clearnesse, not farre distant from the

sunne, as it were to the length and breadth of a man's personage, having

a red shining brightnesse withall, like to the rainbow, which strange

sight when manie beheld, there were that prognosticated the king

alreadie to be arrived.

_V.--Of Good Queen Elisabeth, and How She Came into Her Kingdom_

After all the stormie, tempestuous, and blustering windie weather of

Queene Marie was overblowne, the darksome clouds of discomfort

dispersed, the palpable fogs and mists of most intollerable miserie

consumed, and the dashing showers of persecution overpast, it pleased

God to send England a calm and quiet season, a cleare and lovelie

sunshine, and a world of blessings by good Queene Elisabeth, into whose

gracious reign we are now to make an happie entrance as followeth.

On her entering the citie of London, she was received of the people with

prayers, wishes, welcomings, cries, and tender words, all which argued a

wonderfull earnest love of most obedient subjects towards their

sovereign. And on the other side, her grace, by holding up her hands,

and merrie countenance to such as stood farre off, and most tender and

gentle language to those that stood nigh unto her grace, did declare

herselfe no lesse thankfullie to receive her people's good will, than

they lovinglie offered it to her. And it was not onelie to those her

subjects who were of noble birth that she showed herself thus verie

gracious, but also to the poorest sort. How manie nose gaies did her

grace receive at poore women's hands? How oftentimes staid she her

chariot, when she saw anie simple bodie offer to speake to her grace? A

branch of rosemarie given her grace with a supplication about

Fleetbridge, was seene in her chariot till her grace came to

Westminster, not without the marvellous wondering of such as knew the

presenter, and noted the queene's most gracious receiving and keeping

the same. Therefore may the poore and needie looke for great hope at her

grace's hand, who hath shown so loving a carefulnesse for them.

Moreover, because princes be set in their seat by God's appointing, and

they must therefore first and chieflie tender the glorie of Him from

whom their glorie issueth; it is to be noted in her grace that for so

much as God hath so wonderfullie placed her in the seat of government of

this realme, she in all her doings doth show herselfe most mindful of

His goodness and mercie shewed unto her. And one notable signe thereof

her grace gave at the verie time of her passage through London, for in

the Tower, before she entered her chariot, she lifted up her eies to

Heaven and saith as followeth:

"O Lord Almightie and everlasting God, I give Thee most heartie thanks

that Thou hast beene so mercifull unto me as to spare me to behold this

joy full daie. And I acknowledge that Thou hast dealt as wonderfullie

and as mercifullie with me as Thou diddest with Thy true and faithfull

servant Daniell Thy prophet, whom Thou deliveredst out of the den from

the crueltie of the greedie and raging lions; even so was I overwhelmed,

and onlie by Thee delivered. To Thee, therefore, onlie be thankes,

honor, and praise, for ever. Amen."

On Sundaie, the five and twentieth daie of Januarie, her majestie was

with great solemnitie crowned at Westminster, in the Abbey church there,

by doctor Oglethorpe bishop of Carlisle. She dined in Westminster hall,

which was richlie hung, and everything ordered in such royall manner, as

to such a regall and most solemn feast appertained. In the meane time,

whilst her grace sat at dinner, Sir Edward Dimmocke, knight, her

champion by office, came riding into the hall in faire complete armour,

mounted upon a beautifull courser, richlie trapped in cloth of gold, and

in the midst of the hall cast downe his gauntlet, with offer to fight

in her quarell with anie man that should denie her to be the righteous

and lawfull queene of this realme. The queene, taking a cup of gold full

of wine, dranke to him thereof, and sent it to him for his fee.

Finallie, this feast being celebrated with all due and fitting royall

ceremonies, tooke end with great joy and contentation to all the

beholders.

Yet, though there was thus an end of the ceremonies befitting the

queene's coronation, her majesty was everywhere received with brave

shows, and with pageants, all for the love and respect that her subjects

bare her. Thus on Whitsundaie, in the first year of her reign, the

citizens of London set forth a muster before the queene's majestie at

Greenwich in the parke there, of the number of 1,400 men, whereof 800

were pikes, armed in fine corselets, 400 shot in shirts of mail, and 200

halberdiers armed in Almaine rivets; these were furnished forth by the

crafts and companies of the citie. To everie hundred two wifflers were

assigned, richlie appointed and apparelled for the purpose. There were

also twelve wardens of the best companies mounted on horsebacke in

coates of blacke velvet, to conduct them, with drums and fifes, and sixe

ensigne all in lerkins of white sattin of Bridges, cut and lined with

black sarsenet, and caps, hosen, and scarfs according. The

sergeant-majors, captaine Constable, and captaine Sanders, brought them

in order before the queene's presence, placing them in battell arraie,

even as they should have fought; so the shew was verie faire, the

emperour's and the French king's ammbassadors being present.

Verilie the queene hath ever shown herself forward and most willing that

her faithfull subjects should be readie and skilfull in war as in peace.

Thus in the fourteenth yeare of her reign, by order of her council, the

citizens of London, assembling in their several halles, the masters

chose out the most likelie and active persons of their companies to be

pikemen and shot. To these were appointed diverse valiant captaines, who

to train them up in warlike feats, mustered them thrice everie weeke,

sometimes in the artillerie yard, teaching the gunners to handle their

pieces, sometimes at the Miles end, and in saint George's field,

teaching them to skirmish.

In the arts of peace likewise, she is greatlie pleased with them who are

good craftsmen, and shews them favour. In government we have peace and

securitie, and do not greatlie fear those who may stir up wicked

rebellion within our land, or may come against us from beyond the sea.

In brief, they of Norwich did say well, when the queene's majestie came

thither, and in a pageant in her honour, one spake these words:

"Dost them not see the joie of all this flocke?

Vouchsafe to view their passing gladsome cheere,

Be still (good queene) their refuge and their rocke,

As they are thine to serve in love and feare;

So fraud, nor force, nor forreine foe may stand

Against the strength of thy most puissant hand."

* * * * *

EDWARD A. FREEMAN

The Norman Conquest of England

Edward Augustus Freeman was born at Harborne, Staffordshire,

England, Aug. 2, 1823. His precocity as a child was

remarkable; at seven he read English and Roman history, and at

eleven he had acquired a knowledge of Greek and Latin, and had

taught himself the rudiments of Hebrew. An increase in fortune

in 1848 enabled him to settle down and devote himself to

historical research, and from that time until his death on

March 17, 1892, his life was one spell of literary

strenuousness. His first published work, other than a share in

two volumes of verse, was "A History of Architecture," which

appeared in 1849. Freeman's reputation as historian rests

principally on his monumental "History of the Norman

Conquest." It was published in fifteen volumes between 1867

and 1876, and, in common with all his works, is distinguished

by critical ability, exhaustiveness of research, and an

extraordinary degree of insight. His historical scenes are

remarkably clear and vivid, as though, according to one critic

"he had actually lived in the times."

_Preliminary Events_

The Norman Conquest is important, not as the beginning of English

history, but as its chief turning point. Its whole importance is that

which belongs to a turning point. This conquest is an event which stands

by itself in the history of Europe. It took place at a transitional

period in the world's development. A kingdom which had hitherto been

only Teutonic, was brought within the sphere of the laws, manners, and

speech of the Romance nations.

At the very moment when Pope and Cæsar held each other in the death

grasp, a church which had hitherto maintained a sort of insular and

barbaric independence was brought into a far more intimate connection

with the Roman See. The conquest of England by William wrought less

immediate change than when the first English conquerors slew, expelled,

or enslaved the whole nation of the vanquished Britons or than when

Africa was subdued by Genseric. But it wrought a greater immediate

change than the conquest of Sicily by Charles of Anjou. It brought with

it not only a new dynasty, but a new nobility. It did not expel or

transplant the English nation or any part of it; but it gradually

deprived the leading men and families of England of their land and

offices, and thrust them down into a secondary position under the alien

intruders.

It must not be forgotten that the old English constitution survived the

Norman Conquest. What the constitution had been under the Saxon Eadgar,

that it remained under William. The laws, with a few changes in detail,

and also the language of the public documents, remained the same. The

powers vested in King William and his Witan remained constitutionally

the same as those which had been vested in King Eadgar and his Witan a

hundred years before. Immense changes ensued in social condition and

administration, and in the relation of the kingdom to foreign lands.

There was also a vast increase of royal power, and new relations were

introduced between the king and every class of his subjects; but formal

constitutional changes there were none.

I cannot too often repeat, for the saying is the very summing up of the

whole history, that the Norman Conquest was not the wiping out of the

constitution, the laws, the language, the national life of Englishmen.

The English kingship gradually changed from the old Teutonic to the

later mediæval type; but the change began before the Norman Conquest. It

was hastened by that event; it was not completed till long after it, and

the gradual transition, was brought to perfection by Henry II.

Certain events indicate the remoter causes of the Norman Conquest. The

accession of Eadward at once brings us among the events that led

immediately to that conquest, or rather we may look on the accession of

this Saxon king as the first stage of the conquest itself. Swend and

Cnut, the Danes, had shown that it was possible for a foreign power to

overcome England by force of arms.

The misgovernment of the sons of Cnut hindered the formation of a

lasting Danish dynasty in England. The throne of Cerdic was again filled

by a son of Woden; but there can be no doubt that the shock given to the

country by the Danish Conquest, especially the way in which the ancient

nobility was cut off in the long struggle with Swend and Cnut, directly

opened the way for the coming of the Norman. Eadward did his best,

wittingly or unwillingly, to make his path still easier. This he did by

accustoming Englishmen to the sight of strangers--not national kinsmen

like Cnut's Danes, but Frenchmen, men of utterly alien speech and

manners--enjoying every available place of honour or profit in the

country.

The great national reaction under Godwine and Harold made England once

more England for a few years. But this change, happy as it was, could

not altogether do away with the effects of the French predilections of

Eadward. With Eadward, then, the Norman Conquest really begins. The men

of the generation before the Conquest, the men whose eyes were not to

behold the event itself, but who were to do all that they could do to

advance or retard it, are now in the full maturity of life, in the full

possession of power.

Eadward is on the throne of England; Godwine, Leofric, and Siward divide

among them the administration of the realm. The next generation, the

warriors of Stamfordbridge and Senlac, of York and Ely, are fast growing

into maturity. Harold Hadrada is already pursuing his wild career of

night-errantry in distant lands, and is astonishing the world by his

exploits in Russia and Sicily, at Constantinople and at Jerusalem.

The younger warriors of the Conquest, Eadwine and Morcere and Waltheof

and Hereward, were probably born, but they must still have been in their

cradles or in their mothers' arms. But, among the leaders of Church and

State, Ealdred, who lived to place the crown on the head both of Harold

and of William, is already a great prelate, abbot of the great house of

Tewkesbury, soon to succeed Lyfing in the chair of Worcester.

Tostig must have been on the verge of manhood; Swegen and Harold were

already men, bold and vigorous, ready to march at their father's

bidding, and before long to affect the destiny of their country for evil

and for good. Beyond the sea, William, still a boy in years but a man in

conduct and counsel, is holding his own among the storms of a troubled

minority, and learning those arts of the statesman and the warrior which

fitted him to become the wisest ruler of Normandy, the last and greatest

conqueror of England.

The actors in the great drama are ready for their parts; the ground is

gradually preparing for the scene of their performance. The great

struggle of nations and tongues and principles in which each of them had

his share, the struggle in which William of Normandy and Harold of

England stand forth as worthy rivals of the noblest of prizes, will form

the subject of the next, the chief and central portion of my history.

The struggle between Normans and Englishmen began with the accession of

Eadward in 1042, although the actual subjugation of England by force of

arms was still twenty-four years distant. The thought of another Danish

king was now hateful. "All folk chose Eadward to King." As the son of

Æthelred and Emma, the brother of the murdered and half-canonised

Alfred, he had long been-familiar to English imaginations. Eadward, and

Eadward alone, stood forth as the heir of English royalty, the

representative of English nationality. In his behalf the popular voice

spoke out at once, and unmistakably. His popular election took place in

June, immediately on the death of Harthacnut, and even before his

burial. Eadward, then, was king, and he reigned as every English king

before him had reigned, by that union of popular election and royal

descent which formed the essence of all ancient Teutonic kingship. He

was crowned at Winchester, April 3, 1043. But by virtue of his peculiar

character, his natural place was not on the throne of England, but at

the head of a Norman abbey, for all his best qualities were those of a

monk. Like him father, he was constantly under the dominion of

favourites.

It was to the evil choice of his favourites during the early part of his

reign that most of the misfortunes of his time were owing, and that a

still more direct path was opened for the ambition of his Norman

kinsman. In the latter part of his reign, either by happy accident or

returning good sense, led him to a better choice. Without a guide he

could not reign, but the good fortune of his later years gave him the

wisest and noblest of all guides.

We have now reached the first appearance of the illustrious man round

whom the main interest of this history will henceforth centre. The

second son of Godwine lived to be the last of our kings, the hero and

martyr of our native freedom. The few recorded actions of Harold, Earl

of the East Angles, could hardly have enabled me to look forward to the

glorious career of Harold, Earl of the West Saxons, King of the English.

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