THE BARONS IN LONDON
Fitzarnulph’s project prospered.
Everything was managed with secrecy and success. On being assured that
they might count on a hearty welcome from the Londoners, the barons left
Bedford, and advanced to Ware, in Hertfordshire; and, while the
royalists knew nothing of their movements, save from vague and uncertain
rumours, they, on Saturday, the 16th of May, left Ware after sunset,
and, marching all night, found themselves in the neighbourhood of the
capital without a foe having appeared to notice their approach.
It was early on Sunday when the baronial warriors reached the walls of
London, and Aldgate stood open to admit them. At the time, the
inhabitants were for the most part at morning mass, and the nobles and
their fighting men entered the city, and took possession of the gates,
at each of which they posted parties of guards, almost ere their
presence was suspected by the royalists, and long before their arrival
was announced at the Tower. No sooner did they find themselves in
undisputed possession of the capital, and assured of the support of the
chief citizens, than they gratified the prejudices of the populace by
falling upon a race who from their position always suffered early in
civil commotions.
At that time the Jews were odious to Christendom, and doubtless did much
to deserve hatred. But to no people in Europe was the Jew, with his
sensual lip, his hook nose, his peculiar features, his high square
yellow cap, and his russet gabardine, an object of so much dislike and
distrust as to the English. For all this antipathy there were various
reasons.
Almost every Jew was understood openly or secretly to revile and insult
Christianity, and scarcely a year passed without some terrible charge
being made against the race in this respect. One year it was said that a
Jew had stabbed the Host; in the next that a Jew had defaced an image of
the Virgin; in the third that a Jew had crucified a boy, in mockery of
the Saviour. At the time of the Crusades such charges became more
frequent than ever; for the Jews were believed to sympathise strongly
with the Saracens, and to show their sympathy by furnishing arms to
carry on the war, poisoning the wells and fountains at which the armed
pilgrims were likely to quench their thirst, and sneering at the zeal
which prompted Christians to “take the staff and sandal in superstitious
penance, and walk afoot to visit the graves of dead men.”
No doubt these circumstances would of themselves have rendered the Jew
an object of hatred wherever he appeared; but there were other and very
strong reasons for the detestation with which men of the Hebrew race
were regarded by the multitude. Almost every Jew was rich, and a
money-lender, and a usurer, and was in the habit of using his advantages
in such a way as to grind the faces of men of all ranks who were under
the necessity of coming to him for aid. Abbots and barons were his
debtors; but it was not merely the inmate of the monastery and the
castle who experienced his rapacity and atrocities. While the abbot
pledged his plate, and the baron his armour and horses, the craftsman
pledged his tools, the trader his wares, and the husbandman his
ploughshare. Of course, all these men were frequently at the Jew’s
mercy, and most of them found, to their severe experience, that the
mercy of a Jew was worse than the cruelty of a Christian.
No sooner, therefore, did the barons forming “the army of God and the
Church” find themselves in London, and in a position to do whatever they
pleased with the city, than they proceeded to pay off some of their
debts to the Jews after a fashion which was little to the taste of the
Israelites. Proceeding with such intent to the Jewry--the quarter set
apart for and inhabited by the Jews, and remarkable as concerned the
construction of the houses, which were of a peculiar style, with a
chimney over the door, a mode of building to which the persecuted race
were compelled to adhere, in order that their dwellings might be
distinguished from those of Christians--they stopped at one of them,
over which was inscribed in Hebrew characters, “This is the station or
ward of Rabbi Moses, son of the honourable Rabbi Isaac,” and, to the
terror of the inmates, began to tear down the building, not forgetting
in the meantime to look out for plunder, and to lay their hands on all
that was not too hot or too heavy to carry away. Proceeding with the
work of destruction, which some were foolish enough to mistake for
doing God service, the baronial insurgents pulled down the houses of all
the principal Hebrews, and had the stones carried away to repair the
gates of London, especially Ludgate and Aldgate--which had so easily
admitted them, but which they were determined should not admit any other
armed force, save at their pleasure--rebuilding them after the Norman
fashion, with small bricks and Flanders tiles. Nearly four centuries
later, when Ludgate was pulled down, and when, to borrow the words of
the poet,
“The knights were dust,
And their swords were rust--”
when their names were forgotten, and the places that had once known them
knew them no more, and their lands had become the prey of the grooms and
minions who pandered to the passions and obeyed the behests of the Tudor
sovereigns, the stone which had been taken from the house of the Rabbi
Moses was discovered, and the inscription interpreted--an interesting
memorial of other days, and one which might have suggested salutary
reflections.
Having dealt with the Jews, the Anglo-Norman barons, resolute in their
plan of going all lengths till their demands were complied with, took
two important steps. First, they wrote to all the lords and knights
throughout England demanding aid, and declaring plainly their intention
to regard as enemies and punish as traitors all who did not support “the
army of God and the Church;” next, they boldly quashed all scruples as
to assailing a feudal superior, and prepared to besiege the king in the
Tower, and got ready their engines of war to commence operations. But by
this time John’s alarm had got the better of his rashness; and, changing
his tactics, he, instead of bidding defiance to the confederates as
before, determined on an attempt to delude them.
Fortunately for the king, the Earl of Pembroke, on learning that a
crisis was imminent, had hastened to London; and the earl, being a man
of such high character and unquestionable patriotism that he either had
no personal enemies or only such as were ashamed to confess their
enmity, was in a position to exercise great influence with both parties.
He was quite firm in his support of the crown, and was one of those men
who would have stood by it, even if it had hung on a bush; but at the
same time he was zealous for liberty, and as anxious as any of the
confederate barons to have full securities for the liberty of
Englishmen. When, therefore, Pembroke was summoned to John’s presence,
along with William de Hartarad, the king’s cup-bearer, and Robert of
London, a clerk of the Chapel Royal, he went with the intention of
suggesting some such compromise as might prevent war and bloodshed.
“I now perceive,” said John, more calmly than he was in the habit of
speaking, “that my crown is at stake.”
“Sire,” replied Pembroke, with much more deference that he was wont to
speak in the king’s prosperity, “I grieve with all my heart that affairs
have reached such a stage. But all is not yet lost; nor is there any
reason to despair of getting over all difficulties, if God aids you. All
may yet be saved by reasonable concessions.”
“It is vain,” replied John, “to speak of reasonable concessions now.
When my foes are in the capital with arms and horses, and when they
beleaguer my fortress with fighting men and engines of war, I know full
well that neither Robert Fitzwalter nor any of his friends will listen
to reason. Their answer, were you to address them in such a strain,
would be ‘_Sit pro ratione voluntas._’ It is no time to hesitate. In
another week the handwriting would be on the wall, and in a month my
crown and sceptre would pass away. I have well considered the matter,
and have not been unmindful of the duty I owe to my son. Wherefore I
beseech thee to go to Fitzwalter and his confederates, and tell them
that, if they will forbear from their attempt to take this place, I will
be prepared to grant all their demands. Let them appoint the time and
place for a conference. Go forthwith, my lord earl, and promise them
every satisfaction. William de Hartarad and Robert of London will bear
thee company; and may God speed you in your errand!”
And so the Earl of Pembroke, attended by the cup-bearer and the clerk,
left the Tower, and was admitted to an interview with Fitzwalter and the
barons; and the earl delivered the king’s message, and added,--
“My lords, it remains for you to fix the time when and place where the
conference is to be held.”
And Robert Fitzwalter, after consulting his confederates, turned to
Pembroke, and replied briefly and somewhat sternly--
“My lord earl, for the day of our conference with the king, we appoint
the 15th of June, and, for the place, we name Runnymede.”