When Robert de Bruce, King of Scotland, we are told, heard how that

the old king, Edward the Second, was taken and deposed down from his

regality and his crown, and certain of his counsellors beheaded and put

to destruction, then, although he was himself become very old and

ancient, and sick (as it was said) of the great evil and malady, he

bethought him that he would defy the young king, Edward the Third,

because he was young, and that the barons of the realm were not all of

one accord, as it was said. So about Easter, 1327, he sent his defiance

to the young Edward and to all the realm, sending them word how that he

would enter into the realm of England, and bren before him, as he had

done before time. When the King of England and his council perceived

that they were defied, they caused it to be known all over the realm;

and commanded that all the nobles, and all other, should be ready

apparelled, every man after his estate; and that they should be, by

Ascension-day next after, at the town of York, standing northward. An

embassy was sent to Sir John of Hainault, lord of Beamond, by which his

assistance was obtained with a body of foreigners for the sum of

fourteen thousand pounds. This was a brother of the Earl of Hainault,

who had the preceding year accompanied Queen Isabella on her expedition

to England, and had only recently returned to his own country. He and

his men of war now landed at Dover, whence they rode straight to the

town of York, where the king, and the queen his mother, and all his

lords, with a great host, were tarrying their coming. They arrived at

York within three days of Pentecost. The English were lodged two or

three leagues off, all about in the country; the foreigners in the

suburbs of the city, an abbey of monks being assigned to Sir John for

himself and his household. Then the narrative proceeds:--"The gentle

King of England, the better to feast these strange lords and all their

company, held a great court on Trinity Sunday in the Friars, where he

and the queen his mother were lodged, keeping their house each of them

apart. All this feast the king had well five hundred knights, and

fifteen were new made. And the queen had well in her court sixty ladies

and damozelles, who were there ready to make feast and cheer to Sir John

of Hainault and to his company. There might have been seen great nobles,

plenty of all manner of strange victual. There were ladies and

damoselles, freshly apparelled, ready to have danced if they might have

leave. But incontinent after dinner there began a great fray between

some of the grooms and pages of the strangers and of the archers of

England, who were lodged among them in the same suburbs; and anon all

the archers assembled them together with their bows, and drove the

strangers home to their lodging; and the most part of the knights and

masters of them were as yet in the king's court, but, as soon as they

heard tidings of the fray, each of them drew to their own lodging, in

great haste such as might enter, and such as might not get in were in

great peril. For the archers, who were to the number of three thousand,

shot fast their arrows, not sparing masters nor varlets.... And the

Englishmen that were hosts to these strangers shut fast their doors and

windows, and would not suffer them to enter in to their lodgings:

howbeit some got in on the back side, and quickly armed them, but they

durst not issue out into the street for fear of the arrows. Then the

strangers broke out on the back side, and brake down pales and hedges of

gardens, and drew them into a certain plain place, and abode their

company, till at last they were a hundred and above of men of arms, and

as many unharnessed, such as could not get to their lodgings. And, when

they were assembled together, they hasted them to go and succour their

companions, who defended their lodgings in the great street." At the

lodging of the Lord D'Enghien, where there were great gates both before

and behind, opening into the great street, the English archers were

shooting fiercely at the house, and many of the foreigners were hurt;

but three good knights, whose names are given, although they could not

get into their lodgings to arm them, yet did as valiantly as though they

had been armed. "They had great levers in their hands, the which they

found in a carpenter's yard, with the which they gave such strokes that

men durst not approach to them. They three beat down that day, with such

few company as they had, mo than sixty. For they were great and mighty

knights." In the end the English archers were discomfited and put to the

rout, after about three hundred men had been slain on both sides. "I

trow," concludes the hearty old chronicler, "God did never give more

grace and fortune to any people than he did as then to this gentle

knight, Sir John of Hainault, and to his company. For these English

archers intended to none other thing but to murder and to rob them, for

all that they were come to serve the king in his business. These

strangers were never in so great peril all the season that they lay, nor

they were never after in surety till they were again at Wissant in their

own country. For they were fallen in so great hate with all the archers

of the host, that some of the barons and knights of England showed unto

the lords of Hainault, giving them warning that the archers and other of

the common people were allied together to the number of six thousand, to

the intent to bren or to kill them in their lodgings, either by night or

by day. And so they lived at a hard adventure; but each of them promised

to help and aid other, and to sell dearly their lives or they were

slain. So they made many fair ordinances among themself by good and

great advice; whereby they were fain oftentimes to lie in their harness

by night, and in the day to keep their lodgings, and to have all their

harness ready and their horses saddled. Thus continually they were fain

to make watch by their constables in the fields and highways about the

court, and to send out scout-watches a mile off, to see ever if any such

people were coming to themward as they were informed of, to the intent

that, if their scout-watch heard any noise, or moving of people drawing

to the cityward, then, incontinent, they should give them knowledge,

whereby they might the sooner gather together, each of them under their

own banner, in a certain place, the which they had advised for the same

intent. And in this tribulation they abode in the said suburbs by the

space of four weeks, and in all that season they durst not go far fro

their harness, nor fro their lodgings, saving a certain of the chief

lords among them, who went to the court to see the king and his council,

who made them right good cheer. For, if the said evil adventure had not

been, they had sojourned there in great case, for the city and the

country about them was right plentiful. For, all the time of six weeks

that the king and the lords of England, and mo than sixty thousand men

of war, lay there, the victuals were never the dearer; for ever they had

a penny worth for a penny, as well as other had before they came there;

and there was good wine of Gascoign, and of Anjou, and of the Rhine, and

plenty thereof; with right good cheap, as well of pollen[8] as of other

victuals; and there was daily brought before their lodgings hay, oats,

and litter, whereof they were well served for their horses, and at a

meetly[9] price."

How admirably in this way does the garrulous, graphic, picturesque old

chronicler bring before us England and the English five hundred years

ago! Immediately after we have an equally curious picture of the Scots,

and how they went to war, no doubt drawn or at least filled up from

Froissart's own observation when he visited the northern part of the

island some years later. About four weeks after the fray at York, the

army set out and marched forward to the city of Durham, "a day's journey

within the country called Northumberland, the which at that time was a

savage and a wild country, full of deserts and mountains, and a right

poor country of everything saving of beasts; through the which there

runneth a river, full of flint and great stones, called the water of

Tyne." It was now found that the Scots had effected the passage of the

Tyne without being noticed. They had passed at Haydon, about fifteen

miles above Newcastle. "These Scottish men," says Froissart, "are right

hardy, and sore travelling in harness and in wars. For, when they will

enter into England, within a day and a night they will drive their whole

host twenty-four mile, for they are all on horseback, without it be the

traundals and laggers of the host, who follow after a-foot. The knights

and squires are well horsed, and the common people and other on little

hackneys and geldings; and they carry with them no carts nor chariots,

for the diversities of the mountains that they must pass through in the

country of Northumberland. They take with them no purveyance of bread

nor wine, for their usage and soberness is such in time of war that they

will pass in the journey a great long time with flesh half sodden,

without bread, and drink of the river water without wine; and they

neither care for pots nor pans, for they seethe beasts in their own

skins. They are ever sure to find plenty of beasts in the country that

they will pass through. Therefore they carry with them none other

purveyance, but on their horse, between the saddle and the panel, they

truss a broad plate of metal, and behind the saddle they will have a

little sack full of oatmeal, to the intent that, when they have eaten of

the sodden flesh, then they lay this plate on the fire, and temper a

little of the oatmeal; and, when the plate is hot, they cast of the thin

paste thereon, and so make a little cake, in manner of a cracknel or

biscuit, and that they eat to comfort withal their stomachs. Wherefore

it is no great marvel though they make greater journeys than other

people do. And in this manner were the Scots entered into the said

country, and wasted and brent all about as they went, and took great

number of beasts. They were to the number of four thousand men of arms,

knights, and squires, mounted on good horses; and other ten thousand men

of war were armed after their guise, right hardy and fierce, mounted on

little hackneys, the which were never tied nor kept at hard meat, but

let go to pasture in the fields and bushes."

The account that follows of the movements and counter-movements of the

two hosts is one of the most curious and characteristic passages in

Froissart, and a pretty full abstract of it will introduce the reader

better than can be done in any other way both to Edward and his

historian, and to at least one leading department of life in England in

the fourteenth century.

The English, infuriated by what they saw and heard of the

devastations of the invaders, followed them for two whole days by the

guidance of the smoke that marked their destructive course; but,

although they were wasting, burning, and pillaging only five miles

ahead, they could not be overtaken. It was then determined to make for

the Tyne, and, crossing that river, to wait on its northern bank for the

return of the Scots. The march or ride is described as in the highest

degree toilsome and dangerous, many men and horses being lost among the

mountains, rocks, and marshes, and through the continual alarms that

were occasioned by the shouting of those that were foremost at the

harts, hinds, and other savage beasts, they were continually starting,

when those in the rear thought they had got engaged with the enemy, upon

which they hastened to their assistance over all impediments, "with helm

and shield ready appareled to fight, with spear and sword ready in hand,

without tarrying for father, brother, or companion." "Thus," continues

the chronicler, "rode forth all that day the young King of England, by

mountains and depths, without finding any highway, town, or village.

And, when it was against night, they came to the river of Tyne, to the

same place whereas the Scots had passed over into England, weening to

them that they must needs repass again the same way. Then the King of

England and his host passed over the same river, with such guides as he

had, with much pain and travail, for the passage was full of great

stones. And, when they were over, they lodged them that night by the

river side. And by that time the sun was gone to rest, and there was but

few among them that had either axe or hook, or any instrument to cut

down any wood to make their lodgings withal; and there were many that

had lost their own company, and wist not where they were. Some of the

foot-men were far behind, and wist not well what way to take; but such

as knew best the country said plainly they had ridden the same day

twenty-four English miles; for they rode as fast as they might, without

any rest, but at such passages as they could not choose. All this night

they lay by this river side, still in their harness, holding their

horses by their reins in their hands, for they wist not whereunto to tie

them: thus their horses did eat no meat of all that night nor day

before; they had neither oats nor forage for them: nor the people of the

host had no sustenance of all that day nor night, but every man his loaf

that he had carried behind him, the which was sore wet with the sweat of

the horses; nor they drank none other drink but the water of the river,

without it were some of the lords that had carried bottles with them;

nor they had no fire nor light, for they had nothing to make light

withal, without it were some of the lords that had torches brought with

them. In this great trouble and danger they passed all that night; their

armour still on their backs, their horses ready saddled." All the next

day it rained so that neither sustenance nor forage could be procured,

so that they themselves were forced to fast; and their horses had

nothing but leaves of trees and herbs. About noon they learned from some

country people that they were fourteen miles from Newcastle and eleven

from Carlisle, and that these were the nearest towns. Upon this it was

determined to send to Newcastle: and there was a cry, we are told, in

the king's name made in that town, that whosoever would bring bread, or

wine, or any other victual, should be paid for it forthwith at a good

price; it being at the same time proclaimed that the king and his host

would not depart from the place where they were till they had heard some

tidings of the enemy's whereabout. By the next day at noon the purveyors

returned with what they had been able to procure in this way: it was not

over much. But "with them," it is added, "came other folks of the

country, with little nags, charged with bread, evil baken, in paniers,

and small pear wine in barrels, and other victual, to sell in the host,

whereby great part of the host were well refreshed and eased." In this

state they remained for eight days, including the three in which they

had been in a manner without bread, wine, candle or other light, fodder,

forage, or any manner of purveyance; the scarcity even after this being

still so great that a penny loaf of bread was sold for sixpence, and a

gallon of wine, that was worth but sixpence, for six groats. "And yet,

for all that, there was such rage of famine, that each took victuals out

of other's hands, whereby there rose divers battles and strifes between

sundry companions; and yet beside all these mischiefs it never ceased to

rain all the whole week, whereby their saddles, panels, and

countersingles were all rotten and broken, and most part of their horses

hurt on their backs; nor they had naught wherewith to shoe them that

were unshod, nor they had nothing to cover themself withal from the rain

and cold, but green bushes and their armour; nor they had nothing to

make fire withal, but green boughs, the which would not burn because of

the rain." All this while they had heard nothing of the enemy;

discontent began to spread in the camp; it was determined to repass the

river, and proclamation was made that whosoever should first bring to

the king certain information of where the Scots were should be made a

knight and have land to the value of a hundred pounds a year settled

upon him and his heirs for ever. On the fourth day, about three in the

afternoon, a squire, one of fifteen or sixteen who had set forth in the

hope of winning this reward, came riding at a quick pace up to the king,

and, beginning, "An it like your grace, I have brought you perfect

tidings of the Scots your enemies," stated that he had actually been

taken prisoner by them, and brought before the lords of their host, who,

when he told them his object, had dismissed him without ransom, that he

might inform Edward that they were only three miles off, stationed on a

great mountain, and as desirous to find and fight with the English as

the English could be to meet with them. The name of the lucky squire was

Thomas de Rokesby. "As soon," continues our author, "as the king had

heard this tidings, he assembled all his host in a fair meadow to

pasture their horses; and besides there was a little abbey, the which

was all brent, called in the days of King Arthur, Le Blanch Land. There

the king confessed him, and every man made him ready. The king caused

many masses to be sung, to houzel all such as had devotion thereto; and

incontinent he assigned a hundred pounds sterling of rent to the squire

that had brought him tidings of the Scots, according to his promise, and

made him knight with his own hands before all the host. And, when they

had well rested them,[10] and taken repast, then the trumpet sounded to

horse, and every man mounted, and the banners and standers[11] followed

this new-made knight, every battle by itself in good order, through

mountains and dales, ranged as well as they might, ever ready appareled

to fight; and they rode and made such haste that about noon they were so

near the Scots that each of them might clearly see other." The Scots

were posted in three battles, or divisions, on the lower part of the

hill, with a rocky river at their feet, and precipitous rocks on each

flank. This new river was the higher part of the Wear, and the Scots

were on its right or south bank, not far from Stanhope. The English

commanders immediately drew up their forces on their own or the north

side. "And when their battles were set in good order, then some of the

lords of England brought their young king a horseback before all the

battles of the host, to the intent to give thereby the more courage to

all his people; the which king in full goodly manner prayed and required

them right graciously that every man would pain them to do their best,

to save his honour and common weal of his realm. And it was commanded

upon pain of death, that none should go before the marshals' banners,

nor break their array, without they were commanded. And then the king

commanded that they should advance toward their enemies fair and

easily." The Scots, however, though formally invited by a deputation of

heralds-at-arms to come down from their vantage ground, and have the

battle fought fairly in the plain, either that or the following day, as

they might themselves choose, wisely refused to stir. "Sirs," they

answered, "your king and his lords see well how we be here in this

realm, and have brent and wasted the country as we have passed through;

and, if they be displeased therewith, let them amend it when they will,

for here we will abide so long as it shall please us." On this it was

resolved by the English to remain where they were all that night. It was

the night of St. Peter's day, in the beginning of August. They lay in

their arms on the hard and stony ground. "They had no stakes nor rods,"

continues Froissart, "to tie withal their horses, nor forage, nor bush

withal to make any fire. And when they were thus lodged, then the Scots

caused some of their people to keep still the field whereas they had

ordained their battles, and the remnant went to their lodgings, and they

made such fires that it was marvel to behold. And between the day and

the night they made a marvellous great bruit with blowing of horns all

at once, that it seemed properly that all the devils of hell had been

there." This mere show and bravado was repeated on both sides for three

days, all the fighting being a little skirmishing between small parties

that occasionally came forth from either army, and crossed the stream,

some on horseback, some on foot; and the English, who learned from their

prisoners that the Scots, though they had plenty of beef, were run short

of meal, had made up their minds to remain till famine should force

their cautious and unassailable enemy either to fight or surrender. But

behold! on the morning of the fourth day, when they looked at the

mountain, no Scots were to be seen; they had quietly made off in the

middle of the night. About noon, however, they were discovered not far

off, upon another mountain, in a still stronger position, by the same

river side, having now a great wood on one of their flanks, enabling

them to go and come secretly whenever they chose. The English

immediately took their station on an eminence over against them,--in

Stanhope Park, according to the common account; the enemy were again

repeatedly invited to come over and fight fairly in the intermediate

plain; but they were deaf to all such proposals; and thus the two hosts

remained looking at one another for the long space of eighteen more

days. The first night, however, the Lord William Douglas, taking with

him about two hundred men of arms, crossed the river at a distant point,

and suddenly breaking into the English host about midnight, with the cry

of "A Douglas! A Douglas! ye shall all die, thieves of England!" slew or

carried off no fewer than three hundred men: the gallant leader spurring

on, and still alarming the night with his family battle-cry, had even

advanced to the king's tent, two or three of the cords of which he

struck asunder before he was driven off. This surprise made the English

afterwards keep strict watch and ward. At last the Scots again made

their escape during the night; and it was determined to pursue them no

farther. The young king is said to have wept bitterly in yielding to

this necessity. Before they commenced their retreat, or their return to

the south, "diverse of the English host," we are told, mounted on their

horses and passed over the river, and came to the mountain whereas the

Scots had been, and there they found mo than five hundred great beasts

ready slain, because the Scots could not drive them before their host,

and because that the English men should have but small profit of them;

also there they found three hundred cauldrons made of beasts' skins,

with the hair still on them, strained on stakes over the fire, full of

water and full of flesh to be sodden, and more than a thousand spits[12]

full of flesh to be roasted; and more than ten thousand old shoes made

of raw leather, with the hair still on them, the which the Scots had

left behind them; also there they found five poor Englishmen prisoners

bound fast to certain trees, and some of their legs broken." On the

second day about noon the English army, well nigh worn out with fatigue,

reached a great abbey two miles from Durham; on the morrow the king went

forward to that city, and visited the venerable old cathedral and made

his offering; and here every man found his carriage which he had left

thirty-two days before in a wood at midnight, when they first started in

pursuit of the Scots. "The burgesses and people of Durham had found and

brought them into their town at their own costs and charges. And all

these carriages were set in void granges and barns in safeguard, and on

every man's carriage his own cognizance or arms, whereby every man might

know his own. And the lords and gentlemen were glad when they had thus

found their carriages. Thus they abode two days in the city of Durham,

and the host roundabout, for they could not all lodge within the city;

and there their horses were new shod. And then they took their way to

the city of York; and so within three days they came thither, and there

the king found the queen his mother, who received him with great joy,

and so did all other ladies, damozelles, burgesses, and commons of the

city."

Before the end of the year a peace was made with Scotland; and in a

parliament assembled at York in March following, Edward renounced for

himself and his successors all claims of superiority over the crown of

that country; and shortly after, his sister the Princess Jane or Joanna

(called De la Tour, from having been born in the Tower of London) was

carried to Berwick by her mother, and there affianced to David, the

Prince of Scotland, as yet only in his fifth year. The great Bruce died

within a year after (on the 7th of July, 1329), and was succeeded by his

infant son as David the Second; about two years after whose accession

Edward Baliol made a sudden inroad into the country, and got himself

crowned at Scone, but was driven out again in a few weeks. In a second

invasion, however, in the following year, 1333, in which he was assisted

by the English king, the Scots were defeated by Edward, on the 19th of

July, in the great battle of Halidon Hill, near Berwick; upon which that

town was forced to surrender, nearly every other stronghold in the

kingdom immediately followed its example, and the young King David took

refuge in France. Baliol, however, whom these events had again seated on

the throne, was again driven out within a year; the war was carried on

for some years, in the course of which Edward once, in the summer of

1336, proceeded as far north as to Inverness, carrying fire and sword

wherever he appeared; but no permanent occupation or subjugation could

be effected; as soon as the English army disappeared the Scots were

again in arms; in May 1341 David and his queen returned from France; and

at last, in the beginning of 1343, a truce was concluded which left the

two countries at peace for nearly four years.

But long before this time a great domestic revolution had changed

every thing at the court of England. The arrogance of Isabella and

Mortimer, who had early in the new reign been created Earl of March, and

the general conviction of their criminal intimacy, had very soon begun

to disgust the nation; and the alarm of a powerful party had been

excited by the condemnation and execution, in the beginning of 1330, of

Edmund earl of Kent, one of the king's uncles, on pretence of high

treason, his real crime being, as was universally believed, that he was

hated and dreaded by the favourite. Even Edward himself, now eighteen,

was staggered by after-reflection upon this act, though he had been

induced, in the persuasion of the earl's guilt, to give his consent to

it at the time. Already married, too, and a father, for his son Edward,

afterwards so famous as the Black Prince, had been born at Woodstock on

the 15th of June, 1330, he no doubt felt the state of tutelage, or at

least of exclusion from all share in the government, in which he was

kept by his mother and Mortimer, every day more galling. It is said that

the king confided his feelings to the Lord Montacute; and by his advice

it was resolved to make an attempt to seize Mortimer at a parliament

which was to be held at Nottingham in October. At this parliament the

favourite appeared "in such glory and honour," says Stow, "that it was

without all comparison. No man durst name him any other than Earl of

March; a greater rout of men followed at his heels than on the king's

person; he would suffer the king to rise to him, and would walk with the

king equally, step by step and cheek by cheek, never preferring the

king, but would go foremost himself with his officers." While he took up

his own lodgings with the queen and her son in Nottingham Castle, he

directed that the highest of the other nobility, including the king's

cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, should be lodged in the most distant

parts of the town or without it. The conspirators, however, opened their

design to Sir William Eland, who had long been keeper of the castle; and

he engaged to admit them during the night by a subterraneous passage,

leading from a point at a considerable distance on the west side of the

rock, of the existence of which Mortimer was not aware. On the night of

the 19th of October, accordingly, having concerted their plans with the

king, Montacute and his associates entered by this passage. They were

joined by Edward on the principal staircase. Advancing in silence, and

with their naked swords in their hands, they soon came to a room, where

the voice of Mortimer was heard conversing. Leaving the king without,

they rushed in, and slaying two knights, who endeavoured to oppose them,

laid hold of the earl. The queen, who was in bed in the adjoining

chamber, the door of which was open, cried out "Bel filz, Bel filz, Ayez

pitie de gentil Mortimer" (Fair son, fair son, have pity upon gentle

Mortimer); she then rose, and, rushing into the room, passionately

exclaimed that he was a worthy knight, her well-beloved cousin, her

dearest friend; but he was quickly secured and hurried off. At a

parliament held at Westminster about a month after, he was condemned,

with little form of trial, to die the death of a traitor; and he and one

of his confederates were hanged together at the Elms at Tyburn, on the

29th of November. "He hung," Stow tells us, "two days and two nights by

the king's commandment, and then was buried in the Grey Friars' Church,"

now Christ's Hospital, in Newgate Street. Yet Mortimer's attainder was

reversed in 1352, and his honours restored to his grandson; his

great-granddaughter married Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son of

Edward III.; his great-great-granddaughter and ultimately sole heir, Ann

Mortimer, by her marriage with Richard Plantagenet Earl of Cambridge,

conveyed her right to the crown thence derived to the House of York; her

grandson mounted the throne as Edward IV.; and it has been occupied ever

since the death of Henry VII. by her descendants. As for Queen Isabella,

she was, upon her fall from power, reduced to an income of 3000_l._ a

year (which was afterwards increased to 4000_l._), and ordered to

confine herself in what some authorities call her manor of Risings near

London, others Rising Castle, on the coast of Norfolk, where once a year

her son paid her a visit of ceremony, and where she survived almost

forgotten by the world for nearly eight and twenty years. She died on

the 22nd of August, 1358, and was then buried in the choir of the same

church of the Grey Friars where the body of Mortimer had been laid.

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