JOHN AND THE GREAT CHARTER.
Accession of John--His Position--Arthur of Brittany--Peace
between John and Philip of France--John's Marriage with
Isabella of La Marche--Rupture with France--The Struggle
Begins--Capture of Arthur--The Stories of his Death--The Loss
of Normandy--Peace with Philip--Quarrel with the Pope--The
Kingdom Laid Under an Interdict, and Excommunication of
John--John's Desperate Measures--Expedition to Ireland--John
is Deposed--Arrival of Pandulph in England--Surrender of the
Kingdom to the Pope--Successes of John--Langton Arrives in
England--He Becomes Leader of the Baronial Party--The Battle of
Bouvines--Insurrection in England--The Barons Confront John--His
Intrigues--Meeting at Brackley--Occupation of London---The
Meeting at Runnymede--Greatness of the Occasion--Provisions of
the Charter--Duplicity of John--Siege of Rochester--John in the
North--His Cause Supported by the Church--The Crown offered
to Louis of France--He Enters London--Sieges of Dover and
Windsor--Reported Conspiracy--John's Disaster at the Wash--His
Death and Character.
When the news of the death of Richard I. was conveyed to his brother
John, he immediately took measures for obtaining possession of the
throne. This degenerate son of the house of Plantagenet recovered his
courage when he had only a child to oppose his ambitious schemes--for
the young Arthur, son of his elder brother Geoffrey, was not yet twelve
years old. John, who knew well how little popularity he possessed in
England, sent to secure the services of the foreign mercenaries who had
been in the army of Richard, offering them a greatly increased rate
of pay, and promising to their leaders profitable appointments. Being
then in Normandy, he dispatched William Marshal and Hubert Walter, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, whose adherence he had obtained, into England,
to further his claims, and prepare the way for his coming. Meanwhile, he
presented himself before the castle of Chinon, and demanded possession
of his brother's treasure, which was there deposited. No opposition was
made to him in that neighbourhood, and the Governor of Chinon, as well
as the Governors of other strongholds, opened their gates at his bidding.
Not so the Lords of Touraine, Anjou, and Maine, who joined the Bretons
in supporting the claims of their young prince Arthur, and raised the
standard of revolt. John caused himself to be crowned at Rouen as Duke of
Normandy, and having wreaked his vengeance on the citizens of Le Mans for
having refused him their allegiance, he crossed the Channel, and landed
at Shoreham on the 25th of May, 1199, six weeks after his brother's death.
When Hubert of Canterbury and William Marshal arrived in England, they
caused proclamation to be made throughout the kingdom, calling upon all
the earls, barons, and owners of land to render fealty to John, Duke of
Normandy, son of King Henry, son of the Empress Matilda. Whatever may
have been the motives which first induced Hubert to espouse the cause of
John, it will scarcely be denied that the archbishop was justified in
putting an end to the state of uncertainty by any means in his power.
It has been already stated that Hubert Walter was a man of very high
abilities, and these he now exerted to the utmost, and with remarkable
success. Having summoned a council of the barons and prelates at
Nottingham, he used all his eloquence to overcome the disaffection of the
assembly, while to arguments were added secret gifts and lavish promises
in the name of John. These inducements prevailed, and the barons there
present took the oath of allegiance.
Immediately after the landing of John, he proceeded to the church of St.
Peter, at Westminster, there to prefer formally his claim to the crown.
He carried with him a document, signed by Richard on his death-bed,
in which no allusion was made to the claims of Arthur, but John was
appointed unreservedly as the successor to the throne. Archbishop Hubert
was well aware that, according to the laws of primogeniture, Arthur,
as the only son of an elder brother, had an undoubted right to the
succession; the prelate, therefore, in addressing the people assembled
in the church, is said to have insisted upon the elective character of
the monarchy, and that no man could be entitled to the crown unless he
were chosen by the nation. He asserted that John had already been so
chosen at the council held at Nottingham, and that there was no one of
the family of the dead king better fitted to assume the regal dignity.
He declared that John possessed those meritorious qualities which had
belonged to King Richard--a statement which it would have been difficult
to prove--and that for these reasons, as well as for having the same
lineage, he was elected king. Whatever may have been the real temper of
the assembly, no opposition was made to these statements, and the English
crown was conferred upon the most vicious and worthless prince who ever
wore it.
The new king began his reign amidst the disaffection, if not the hatred,
of the people, while he was menaced on every side by the attacks of
enemies from without. In the north, William the Lion, King of Scotland,
was preparing to invade his territories; while on the Continent, all
his vassals, except those of Normandy, were in insurrection, and the
French king, his former ally, had declared war against him. The aspect
of affairs was highly favourable to the designs of Philip, who, to
further his own ends, declared himself in favour of the cause of the
young Arthur. John, having sent an army under the command of William
de Stuteville to oppose the Scottish king, passed over into Normandy.
Negotiations were then entered into by Philip, who demanded that all the
Continental provinces subject to England, with the exception of Normandy,
should be given up to Arthur, and that a large portion of Normandy should
be resigned to the French crown. Such terms could not be accepted, and
the war continued.
The young prince, whose claims to the English throne gave rise to so much
bloodshed and revolution, appeared to have been marked for misfortune
from his birth. He was a posthumous child, his father, Geoffrey, Duke of
Brittany, second son of Henry II., having been killed in a tournament
several months before Arthur came into the world. The Bretons, who were
perpetually struggling for independence against the overwhelming force
of France on the one hand, and of England on the other, hailed the birth
of their native prince with enthusiastic joy, and when his grandfather
desired to give him the name of Henry, they one and all insisted that
he should be called Arthur--a name which was held in as much honour by
them as among their kindred, the Bretons of Wales. The latter people, who
held tenaciously by their ancient traditions handed down by the bards
from generation to generation, believed firmly that they were destined
once more to possess the whole island of Britain. The confidence they
expressed in this wild hope, opposed as it was to all probability, caused
them to be regarded both in England and France as having the gift of
prophecy. The songs of their ancient poets, imaginative and obscure, were
supposed to possess a hidden meaning which was traced in the political
events occurring many years afterwards. Hence arose the strange stories
related of Myrddin, a Cambrian bard of the seventh century, who, after
a lapse of five hundred years, had become celebrated under the name of
the enchanter Merlin. To this source, also, is to be attributed the
extraordinary fame of King Arthur, of whose existence no authentic
records remain, but to whom the glowing imaginations of the Welsh poets
attributed superhuman valour and virtues. The writings of that people,
when translated into the languages of the Continent, were read with
avidity. The troubadours of Provence completed the picture drawn by the
Welsh, and from the shadowy outline furnished by tradition, produced
that vigorous portraiture of a perfect knight, which became celebrated
throughout Europe. The Welsh placed the most entire confidence in the
prediction of Merlin, that King Arthur would return to them and restore
their ancient glory; and this belief was shared by the Bretons of the
Continent. These were the reasons which induced the latter people to
call their young chief by the name of Arthur; and as the child grew in
strength and beauty, they hoped to see the day when their independence
should be restored through him, and he should rule them without the
control of French or English.
[Illustration: JOHN.]
While the Bretons were fighting against Richard I., Constance, the
mother of Arthur, relinquished their support, and carried her son first
to the court of Richard, and then to that of the King of France. When
John ascended the throne, Arthur was placed under the protection of
Philip, to whom the boy-prince was made to surrender the independence
of Brittany, Maine, Touraine, and Anjou, by acknowledging him as feudal
suzerain of those provinces. Constance was a woman of little virtue,
and seems to have cared more about the prosecution of her own intrigues
than the welfare and safety of her child. The Bretons, headed by William
Desroches, firmly maintained the attitude they had assumed; while John,
with his army of mercenaries, advanced upon their lands, spreading
ruin and devastation around him--burning the villages, and selling the
inhabitants as slaves. Philip marched a body of troops to the assistance
of Desroches, took possession of several towns of Brittany, and seized
some castles on the frontiers belonging to the English.
He, by way of securing Arthur for the future, conferred upon him the
honour of knighthood, and even promised him the hand of his daughter
Mary in marriage. This friendly attitude, however, did not exist long.
Philip soon perceived that it was impossible to retain possession of his
new territories, so long as he was opposed by the inhabitants themselves
on the one hand, and the arms of the King of England on the other. He
therefore determined to arrange a peace with John, and for that purpose
he completely sacrificed the interests of the young prince, to whom he
had so lately promised an alliance with himself. By a treaty concluded in
the following year (1200) between the two kings, it was agreed that John
should retain possession of all the provinces held by his father, and
Arthur was compelled to do homage to his uncle for Anjou, Brittany, and
Maine. In return John did homage to Philip for his French possessions.
The treaty was cemented by a marriage alliance; John promising to young
Louis, the French king's heir, the hand of his niece, Blanche of Castille.
In spite of the act which thus deprived young Arthur of his inheritance,
he remained at the French court, where Philip retained him, to be brought
forward in case of any new cause of offence on the part of John. It was
not long before such an occurrence took place. With the exception of
Normandy, the only province under the Anglo-Norman rule which refrained
from open rebellion against John was that of Aquitaine. Peace had been
maintained there chiefly by the influence of Queen Eleanor, who was the
representative of the ancient lords of the province, and to whose person
the people had always shown great attachment. In the summer of the year
1200 John made a progress through this part of his dominions, and, by the
pomp and parade with which he appeared, had a favourable effect upon the
lively and impressible children of the south. On this occasion John, who
was a tolerably good actor, exerted all his powers to obtain popularity,
and strove to hide his naturally tyrannical and vindictive temper under
a smiling face and affable manner. It appears that he was only partially
successful. He had not sufficient patience or self-control to continue
long this kind of deceit, and on some trifling provocation his real
character would display itself. He was already married, and had been so
for ten years, to Hadwisa, daughter of the Earl of Gloucester, a gentle
and amiable woman; but John was as remarkable for licentiousness as for
cruelty, and his passions were under no restraint, except from his fears.
At the time of his visit to Aquitaine he saw a lady whose beauty was
celebrated throughout the French provinces, and who immediately attracted
his lawless admiration. This was Isabella, the daughter of the Count of
Angoulême, lately betrothed to Hugh, Count of La Marche. Regardless of
the ties by which both she and himself were bound, John seized possession
of her person and took her to Angoulême, where the ceremony of marriage
was performed between them by the Archbishop of Bordeaux. A few months
later he returned to England, carrying with him his new wife, who was
crowned at Westminster by the Archbishop of Canterbury. John himself
was recrowned on that occasion. He then gave himself up to indolence
and luxury, not knowing or caring how the kingdom was governed; heeding
little the disaffection of his people at home, or the indignation which
his tyranny had excited throughout France.
The Count of La Marche was a young and powerful chief, who was not likely
to endure without resistance the grievous wrong he had suffered. The
barons, his neighbours, made his cause their own; and when he raised the
standard of rebellion they armed their retainers in his service. John,
apprised of the storm which was gathering in the south, summoned his
lords to attend him with their troops. Many of them at once refused,
and said openly that they would not unsheathe their swords in such a
paltry and dishonourable war. There were some high-minded men among
the Anglo-Norman barons; but the majority of them were not apt to be
so scrupulous, and their refusal was dictated by no other reason than
their hatred to the king. They afterwards proposed to accompany him
on condition of all their rights and liberties being restored. John's
rage on this occasion gave him energy; and for a time he asserted his
authority by compelling the barons to pay the tax of scutage, and to give
hostages in place of their personal service. He then crossed over into
Normandy, accompanied by Isabella, and proceeded to Paris, where he was
received by Philip--a much abler hypocrite--with great show of courtesy.
On his refusal, however, to answer the charges brought against him by
the Poitevins, Louis declared his French provinces forfeited. The French
king had already entered into an alliance with the Count of La Marche,
and was at that moment engaged in organising a formidable insurrection in
Brittany. A part of Aquitaine still remained quiet under the influence
of Eleanor; and through this district John passed in state after he had
quitted Paris. He, however, did not go for the purpose of fighting, and
soon marched back again, having produced no other effect than to inspire
the insurgents with contempt for so aimless a demonstration.
In the year 1202 the struggle at length commenced, which was destined
to give a fatal blow to the Plantagenet power in France. It has been
considered probable that had the successors of Henry II. possessed the
abilities which distinguished that monarch, they would ultimately have
extended their authority over the whole of France; but if we regard the
relative geographical positions of the two countries, and the turbulent
and warlike character of the French people, it will appear unlikely that
such a condition of affairs could have been long maintained, and that,
on the contrary, it was almost a matter of certainty that the French
provinces would sooner or later become separated from the English crown;
but that separation took place at a much earlier period than it otherwise
would have done, in consequence of the indolence and pusillanimity of
John. Philip, who had waited only to arrange certain differences in
which he had been engaged with the Pope, now openly declared himself in
favour of the claims of Arthur, and of the cause of the men of Aquitaine.
He proclaimed the young prince Count of Brittany, Anjou, and Poitou,
and gave him 200 knights, with whom he directed him to march and take
possession of those provinces, and to conquer the towns of Poitou, which
were in the hands of the English king. Arthur entered into a treaty, by
which he resigned to Philip all the Norman territory of which the king
had become possessed, or which he might obtain during the expedition
which he was preparing to take into that province. Arthur then raised
his standard and appealed for aid to the Bretons, who promptly responded
to the call by joining in alliance with the Poitevins, and sending their
prince 500 knights and 400 foot. These with 100 men-at-arms from Touraine
and Poitou, and the small body of French troops, was all the force at his
command. It did not suit the purpose of Philip to place too much power
in the hands of the boy, to whom he never meant to resign any portion of
those territories for which Arthur believed himself to be fighting.
Arthur was now an orphan, his mother Constance having died during his
stay at the French court; he was in his fifteenth year, and therefore,
though possessing all the valour of his race, he was necessarily
deficient in knowledge of the art of war, and experience in the field.
Nevertheless, the boy leader rode gallantly at the head of his little
army, and led them against the town of Mirabel, in which his grandmother,
Eleanor of Aquitaine, was then shut up. His advisers may probably have
reminded him that Eleanor had always been the enemy of his mother, and
that, could he take her prisoner, it would be an important step towards
bringing the king, his uncle, to terms. Whether Arthur was or was not
aware that his grandmother was within the town, the circumstance proved
fatal to the success of the expedition. The town surrendered without
much resistance, but not before Eleanor had thrown herself into the
castle, which was very strong, and there this Amazon of eighty maintained
a vigorous defence against the attacks of the prince, whose troops
had occupied the town. The Breton army remained in apparent security,
when John, who on this occasion displayed an extraordinary degree of
activity, suddenly appeared before the gates of Mirabel. The troops of
Arthur, though taken by surprise, made a gallant resistance, and it was
only by means of treachery that, on the night of the 31st of July, John
obtained possession of the town. The prince was taken while asleep, and
the other leaders of the insurrection were made prisoners without the
opportunity of resistance. Among these were the unhappy Count of La
Marche, Isabella's former lover: the Viscounts of Thouars, Limoges, and
Lusignan, and nearly 200 other nobles and knights of fame.
[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF JOHN.]
Of the fate of the young Prince Arthur, no authentic details have been
recorded. That his youth and innocence did not save him from the bloody
hands of John, is certain, but of the manner in which he came by his
death we can form an idea only by comparing the different stories which
are current on the subject among the old chroniclers. Arthur was conveyed
by his uncle to the castle of Falaise, whence he was removed to that of
Rouen. There he disappeared, and there ends the narrative of sober fact,
the rest bringing us into the region of conjecture and probability.
The Normans, who remained loyal to the English king, spread a report
that Arthur died of sickness in the castle of Rouen, or was killed in
attempting to make his escape; this statement may be at once rejected
as a mere invention, and not a very ingenious one. The account given by
some of the French chroniclers is to the following effect:--John having
visited his nephew at Falaise, desired him to put confidence in his
uncle. Arthur rejected his advances, and said indignantly, "Give me my
inheritance, the kingdom of England." The king then sent him to Rouen,
strongly guarded, and not long afterwards he suddenly disappeared. It
was suspected by all men that John had murdered his nephew with his own
hands, and he became the object of the deepest hatred. The monks of
Margan relate that John killed the prince in a fit of drunkenness, and
caused his body to be thrown into the Seine, with stones tied at his
feet, but that, notwithstanding these, it was cast on the bank, and was
buried at the abbey of Bec secretly, for fear of the tyrant.
The story current among the Bretons was nearly similar, with the
difference of a change of scene. They related that John having feigned
to be reconciled to his nephew, took him from the castle of Rouen, and
caused him to ride in his company in the direction of Cherbourg, keeping
near to the sea coast. Towards nightfall one evening, when the prince had
ridden with his perfidious uncle in advance of their escort, they arrived
at the top of a high cliff overlooking the sea, and John suddenly seized
the boy round the waist and threw him over the cliff. Another account,
more circumstantial, which has been generally received as likely to be
the correct one, is given by Ralph, Abbot of Coggeshall. The story is
as follows:--The king's councillors, having represented to him that the
Bretons would continue their rebellion so long as Prince Arthur was in
a condition to assume the sovereignty, suggested that the eyes of the
boy should be put out, in order to render him unfit to govern. Some
ruffians in the king's service were sent to the dungeon at Falaise to
execute this cruel deed, but the tears and prayers of the youth, and
his helpless condition, moved even their hearts to pity, and Hubert de
Burgh, the warden of the castle, took advantage of their hesitation to
forward an earnest appeal for mercy to the king. The only result of the
petition was the removal of the prince from Falaise to Rouen. On the 3rd
of April, 1203, he was roused from his sleep, and desired to descend
to the foot of that tower, beside which flowed the placid waters of the
Seine. At the bottom of the steps he saw a boat, in which was seated the
king, his uncle, attended by an esquire named Peter de Mauley. The boy
shrank back in terror, anticipating the fate which awaited him, and fell
on his knees before his uncle, making a last appeal for mercy. But John,
whose heart was harder than those of the vilest wretches in his pay, gave
the sign, and the murder was committed. Some relate that the esquire
hesitated to obey the sign, and that John himself seized his nephew by
the hair, ran him through the body, and threw him into the water. Other
writers, however, assert that de Mauley was the actual murderer, and this
statement is confirmed by the fact that soon afterwards John gave him the
hand of a rich heiress in marriage, in all likelihood as the reward of
his services.
[Illustration: _By permission, from the Painting in the City of
Manchester Art Gallery._
PRINCE ARTHUR AND HUBERT.
BY W. F. YEAMES, R.A.
KING JOHN, ACT IV., SC. 1:
"... HUBERT, IF YOU WILL, CUT OUT MY TONGUE,
SO I MAY KEEP MINE EYES: O, SPARE MINE EYES!"]
[Illustration: MURDER OF PRINCE ARTHUR. (_See p._ 257.)]
However near the truth these different statements may have been, it is
certain that the rumour of the murder was spread throughout Brittany
during the same month of April. The indignation of the people was
universal; they had believed their future destiny to be connected with
that of their prince, and they professed the greatest attachment to the
French king, as the enemy of his murderer. The elder sister of Arthur,
the Maid of Brittany--whose lot was scarcely more fortunate than that of
her brother--was confined in a monastery at Bristol, where she remained
for forty years; but the people declared Alice, daughter of Constance by
her last husband, and half-sister to Arthur, to be their duchess, and
appointed her father, Guy of Thouars, as their regent or governor. The
barons of the province then appeared before Philip, to whom, as their
feudal suzerain, they complained of the murder of their prince. Philip
eagerly availed himself of the appeal, and cited John, as his vassal
for the duchy of Normandy, before the court of the barons of France, to
whom, it may be noted, the name of peers was now first given. The accused
monarch did not put in an appearance, and was condemned by the court to
the forfeiture of all the lands which he held of the kingdom of France,
possession of which was to be taken by arms.
No sooner did Philip appear with his forces on the frontier of Poitou,
than the inhabitants rose to join his standard, and when he returned to
attack Normandy, he found he was anticipated by the Bretons, who had
occupied the whole of that portion of the duchy which bordered on their
territories. They took by assault the strong castle of Mount St. Michael,
seized upon Avranches, and burned the villages which lay between that
city and Caen. These successes gave new strength to the expedition of the
French king, who, joined by the people of Anjou and Maine, took Bayeux,
Evreux, Domfront, and Lisieux, and then joined the Breton army at Caen.
While this formidable confederacy menaced him on every side, John was
passing his days in voluptuous indolence, or in the sports of the field;
he again refused to answer complaints at Paris. When his courtiers
brought him intelligence of new successes on the part of his enemies,
he expressed his contempt of the rabble of Bretons and of anything they
could do; but when, in the month of December, the insurgents appeared in
the neighbourhood of Rouen, he suddenly became aware of the danger in
which he was placed, and fled over into England.
On his arrival he demanded the aid of the barons to raise an army for
his service, but the call was responded to with the utmost apathy. It
would appear that the Anglo-Norman lords no longer possessed the great
estates they had formerly held in Normandy; for had such been the case
it is not probable that their hatred to the king would have induced them
to disregard their own interests. After in vain attempting to raise
a sufficient force to oppose the French king, John appealed to Rome
(1205), and Pope Innocent sent two legates into France for the purpose
of negotiating a peace. Philip, however, who had everything to gain by
prolonging the war, not unnaturally refused to listen to the entreaties
of the legates, and their mission ended without success.
When John fled from Normandy, there remained in his possession throughout
the duchy only the town of Rouen, and the fortresses of Château-Gaillard
and Verneuil. The people of Rouen held out until they were reduced to
the last extremity by famine, when, having concluded a truce of thirty
days with the French king, they sent to John praying for succour. The
messengers found the king playing at chess, and while they told their
deplorable tale, he remained seated at his game, and gave them no answer.
When the game was over, he told them that he had no means of helping
them, and that they must do the best they could. This was the only
recognition he made of the heroic struggle of the citizens on his behalf.
Rouen surrendered, the two castles soon afterwards followed its example,
and the conquest of Normandy was complete. This duchy was then finally
restored to the French crown, after having been separated from it for 292
years. Within the same year, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, Poitou, and Brittany
also fell under the authority of Philip, and John retained only a few
castles in those provinces besides the territory of Aquitaine, which
remained nominally under his rule.
The Bretons soon discovered that, so far from having recovered their
independence, they had changed the tyranny of a weak arm for that of a
strong one. Disgusted with the supremacy of the King of France, they made
efforts which proved fruitless to renew their alliance with John, and
then, with a sort of suicidal ferocity, they aided their new sovereign
to destroy the independence of their neighbours. In the year 1206, John
landed an army at La Rochelle, whence he proceeded to the Loire, taking
the castle of Montauban, and burning the town of Angers. His energy,
however, did not last long, and for several months he gave himself up
to feasting and debauchery. Aroused once more, he passed on to the town
of Nantes, to which he laid siege; but on the approach of Philip with
an army, he raised the siege, and proposed to negotiate with the French
king. During the negotiations John ran away to England covered with
disgrace. By the intervention of the Pope, however, a truce for two years
was then arranged between the two kings.
Degraded as he was in the eyes of all honourable men, John retained his
arrogance, and governed his kingdom with greater tyranny than ever. In
the following year (1207) he defied the authority of the power which
was concentred in the Holy See, now so formidable throughout Europe,
and which he, of all men, was least fitted to resist. The ground of the
quarrel was the right of the crown to the appointment of bishops.
Archbishop Hubert, of Canterbury, died in 1205, and a dispute arose
between the monks of the cathedral and the suffragan bishops of the
diocese, both parties claiming the right to elect the new archbishop.
Some of the younger monks proceeded to settle the question off-hand,
and without consulting the bishops or the king, secretly elected their
sub-prior, Reginald. He was sent to Rome; but before reaching the Pope
he bragged of his good fortune, and the news reached England. The elder
monks took alarm, went to the king and agreed to elect John de Grey,
Bishop of Norwich, who was one of John's ministers. He also was sent to
Rome, and shortly afterwards appeared representatives from the bishops,
who were angry at being altogether disregarded. Innocent settled the
knotty question in a masterly manner. He decided that the right of
election lay neither with the king nor the bishops, but with the monks;
the election of Reginald, however, had been irregular, and, therefore,
he ordered such of the monks as were at Rome to elect an entirely new
candidate, Stephen Langton, cardinal priest of St. Chrysogonus. John,
however, was determined that his favourite, John de Grey, Bishop of
Norwich, should receive the appointment, and he sent two knights with a
body of soldiers to Canterbury to drive the rebellious monks out of the
country. Once more those walls which had witnessed the murder of Becket
were profaned by a deed of violence; the monks were compelled to quit
their monastery and take refuge in Flanders, where they were received
into the religious houses.
Innocent, who was a man of great ability, sent a temperate letter to the
king, demanding redress for this outrage; but John returned an insolent
reply, and set the Pontiff at defiance. Soon afterwards the Bishops of
London, Ely, and Worcester received directions from Rome to wait upon
the king, and in case they were still unable to obtain redress for the
injury, to threaten him with an interdict upon the whole kingdom. John
heard the threat with transports of rage, and swore that if the bishops
dared to lay his states under an interdict, he would seize upon their
property, and drive them and their clergy penniless to Rome; that if
any Roman priests dared to appear in the country, he would cut off
their noses and tear out their eyes, and so make them a witness of his
vengeance before the nations. Undeterred by these savage menaces, the
bishops proclaimed the interdict on the 23rd of March, 1208, and then
fled across the Channel. The interdict was carried out to the fullest
extent by the unanimous concurrence of the clergy. During this time
the country lay as it were in mourning, the churches were closed, the
pictures of the saints covered with black cloth, and their relics
laid on ashes in the aisles; the priests refused their offices, with
the exception of administering the rite of baptism to infants and the
sacrament to the dying; and the command of Rome suspended all public
prayers to Heaven. At the end of the year Innocent proceeded to further
measures, and issued against John the sentence of excommunication.
The king now became alarmed at his position. He saw the spirit of
disaffection increasing among his barons; he had made enemies of the
clergy, and he was hated by the people. Abroad, the aspect of affairs
was no less menacing. He knew that the Pope would follow up the sentence
of excommunication by proclaiming his dethronement, and declaring him
unworthy to rule in a Christian land; and he perceived that Philip was
making ready to invade England, armed with the authority of the Holy See.
Wherever he looked he saw none but enemies, and it was evident that his
downfall would be attended with a general rejoicing throughout Europe. It
is related by Matthew Paris that at this moment of danger John applied
for succour to the Emir al Nassir, the powerful chief of the Moslems of
Spain. It was even reported that he had offered to embrace the religion
of Mahomet, and to become a vassal of the Emir, in return for the
assistance he demanded. Improbable and disgraceful as such an offer would
have been, there is no doubt that John was capable of making it; but if
he did so, it was not accepted, and the king was compelled to give up the
attempt to obtain assistance from abroad.
For the purpose of raising an army, John determined to obtain money by
any and every means in his power, and in the spring of 1210 he commenced
a series of exactions, compared with which those of his predecessors had
been moderate. He employed the most lawless means of forcing their hoards
from his subjects, and especially from the Jews, who, as the richest,
were invariably the first to suffer on such occasions. He declared that
his object was to drive the French king from Normandy; but as soon as
he had raised an army, he crossed over into Ireland, where the English
nobles had thrown off his authority. He landed on the 6th of June, and on
his arrival at Dublin many of the native chiefs came to offer him their
homage. With their assistance he marched through the country, destroying
the castles of the insurgent barons, who were totally unprepared for
resistance, and within a few weeks he had reduced them to submission.
He then established English laws in the island, appointing officers to
see them duly executed; he also directed that the same coins of money
should be used in the two countries--a measure by which the interests of
commerce were greatly promoted. Having appointed John de Grey, Bishop of
Norwich, to the government of the island, he returned to England. This
expedition, in which he encountered no opposition, encouraged him to make
a descent upon Wales in the following year (1211). For this purpose more
money was required, and he obtained it by measures more flagitious, if
possible, than before. He summoned before him all the heads of religious
establishments, abbots and abbesses, and compelled them to deliver up
the property of the Church into his hands. Having exhausted this source
of supply, he again attacked the unfortunate Jews, visiting them with
imprisonment and the torture to force a compliance with his peremptory
demands.
Having now raised a great army the king entered Wales and penetrated as
far as Snowdon. The people could make no resistance against the force
brought against them, and they were compelled to pay to him a tribute
of cattle, and to give twenty-eight hostages, the sons of their chiefs,
as security for their fidelity. But the efforts made by John to destroy
their independence proved altogether fruitless. Their strength now, as in
former years, lay in their mountain fastnesses; the spirit of freedom has
her seat among mountains in every age and country. Within a year after
the king's return to England, the Welsh were again up in arms. As soon
as the news was brought to John he hanged the unhappy youths who were
in his hands as hostages, and he was preparing for another descent upon
Wales, when he learnt that a conspiracy was forming against him among
the English barons. He then immediately relinquished his intention, and
shut himself up for fifteen days in Nottingham Castle, where he seems to
have stayed in something like an extremity of fear. His acts at this time
were dictated entirely by impulses, now of cruelty, now of cowardice,
and cannot be accounted for by any rational rule of conduct. Suddenly he
recovered his courage, quitted Nottingham, and marched to Chester, once
more declaring that he would exterminate the Welsh; then as suddenly he
retraced his steps and marched into Northumberland, where the barons
were in arms against him. It would appear that he lived in continual
dread of his life, suffering no one to approach him but his immediate
attendants and favourites, whose fidelity he secured by his gold, and
keeping himself surrounded by large bodies of foreign mercenaries. Hated
as he knew himself to be, he made no attempt to change his tyrannical
conduct, or to conciliate the regard of the people, but, on the contrary,
each day witnessed some new act of cruelty, which rendered him still more
obnoxious to his subjects.
At length Pope Innocent listened to the prayers of the English exiles,
solemnly proclaimed the deposition of the English king, as an enemy to
the Church of Christ, and called upon all Christian princes to take up
arms against him, and to join in hurling him from the throne. Stephen
Langton, the banished Archbishop of Canterbury, with other prelates,
appeared with the Pope's letters at the French court, there called
together a solemn council, and informed the king and lords of France
that the Pope gave his sanction to the invasion of England. Innocent
promised to Philip the remission of his sins provided he accepted and
fulfilled the solemn commission with which he was charged. Philip had
other inducements to do so, which were sufficiently strong, and he at
once collected an army on the coast of Normandy, and caused a fleet of
1,700 vessels to be made ready at Boulogne and other ports to convey it
across the Channel.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF ROUEN CATHEDRAL.]
Aroused by the imminence of the danger, John appealed to his subjects to
resist the foreign invader, and collected all the vessels in the kingdom
which were capable of being used as transports. Then, under the influence
of one of his fits of energy, he acted with boldness and determination;
and before the French fleet had quitted Normandy the English vessels
crossed the Channel, and swept along the coast. The superiority already
attained by the English sailors was clearly shown on this occasion, and
was soon to be still more decisively manifested. A French squadron at the
mouth of the Seine was destroyed by the English, who also burned down
the town of Dieppe, and returned triumphantly, the fleet at Boulogne not
having ventured to leave the harbour.
While success thus crowned the arms of John on the sea, he possessed
on shore a numerous army of stout English yeomen, who had joined
his standard, and who, whatever might be their feelings towards him
personally, would doubtless have fought well to save their country from
a foreign yoke. But John's courage seldom endured beyond the first
moments of excitement, and when he found time to calculate risks and
chances, he consulted his own safety by any means in his power. He took
no measures for following up his successes, and it was evident that, in
spite of his haughty defiance of the power of Rome, he would now be glad
to escape from his dangerous position by humbling himself before it.
Pandulph, the legate of the Pope, who fully understood the character of
John, obtained permission to land in England, and presented himself in
the royal presence. He laid before the king the impolicy of his course
of action, the danger he incurred from the French king, whose formidable
preparations he described, and the probability of a general rebellion
among the English barons. The facts were undeniable, and urged as they
were with all the skill and eloquence of an able diplomatist, they
produced the greatest alarm in the breast of the tyrant. This feeling was
increased by the prediction of a hermit named Peter, who asserted that
before Ascension Day, which was three days distant, the king would have
ceased to reign. Irreligious as he was, John was by no means free from
superstition, and he seems to have attached more weight to the words of
the friar, which he believed foretold his death, than to the arguments
of the legate. After some hesitation, his fears prevailed, and he agreed
to sign an agreement or treaty with the Pope, by which he bound himself
to fulfil all the Church's demands, the refusal of which had caused his
excommunication; to restore the monks of Canterbury to their lands; to
receive into favour all the exiled clergy, especially Stephen Langton,
the Archbishop of Canterbury; and to make satisfaction to both clergy
and laity for any injuries they had sustained in consequence of the
interdict, paying down a sum of £8,000 as a first instalment of such
indemnity.
Pandulph agreed, in the Pope's name, that on the performance of these
conditions the interdict should be removed from the country, and that
the servants of the Church, including the exiled bishops, should swear
fidelity to the king. Four of the chief barons of the kingdom bore
witness to this compact, which was solemnly concluded. By this agreement
John suffered no peculiar indignity, but it was immediately followed
by a proceeding in the highest degree disgraceful, and which can only
be accounted for by the subtle art with which the legate worked upon
the fears of the pusillanimous monarch. On the 15th of May, 1213, John
proceeded at an early hour in the morning to the church of the Templars
at Dover, and there, in the presence of the bishops and nobles of the
realm, he knelt down before Pandulph, placed his crown in his hands,
and took the oath of fealty to the Pope. At the same time he gave into
the hands of the legate a document which set forth that he, the King of
England, Lord of Ireland, in atonement for his sins against God and the
Church, did of his own free will, and with the consent of the barons,
surrender into the hands of Pope Innocent and his successors for ever,
the kingdom of England and lordship of Ireland, to hold them henceforth
as fiefs of the Holy See, John and his successors paying for them a
yearly tribute of 700 marks for England, and 300 marks for Ireland.
On the following day, which was the Feast of the Ascension, John awoke
with something of the feeling of a criminal whose hour of execution has
arrived. The words of the hermit Peter caused him to tremble even more
than the thunders of Rome; and he watched the long hours till sunset,
anticipating the stroke which was to end his hateful existence. When the
time of the prediction had passed away, and he found himself still alive,
he caused Peter and his son to be dragged at the tails of horses to the
gibbet where they were executed as a punishment for the terror they had
caused him. But it was commonly said among the people that the monk had
told no lie; and that John had ceased to be a king when he laid his crown
at the feet of a foreign priest.
The Holy See, having secured a humble and subservient vassal in the King
of England, now espoused his cause, and undertook to defend him against
his enemies. Pandulph returned to France, and forbade Philip to prosecute
the war, or to invade a kingdom which was under the protection of the
Church. Philip thought proper to argue the matter on religious grounds,
and said that he had expended large sums of money upon this expedition,
for the purpose of obtaining, according to the promise of the Pontiff,
the remission of his sins. The legate seems to have cared little about
this circumstance, and simply repeated his prohibition. Philip then
continued his march towards the coast, prepared to defy the authority
of the Holy See, and to continue the expedition, now no longer for the
remission of his sins, but avowedly for more worldly ends. His design,
however, was frustrated by the disaffection of his vassals, to whom the
command of the Pope served as a sufficient justification of rebellion.
The Count of Flanders withdrew his forces from the expedition, declaring
that he would not engage in such an unjust war. Philip immediately
followed him into Flanders, intending to punish his rebellion by seizing
upon the whole province. Several towns and fortresses fell into the
French king's hands, who passed on, and laid siege to the strong city of
Ghent. The Count of Flanders then applied to John for assistance, which
it was manifestly to his interest to grant, and which, therefore, was not
refused.
The English fleet set sail from the harbour of Portsmouth; 500 vessels,
having on board 700 knights and a large force of infantry, under
the command of William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, a son of "fair
Rosamond," and William, Earl of Holland. They bore down upon the coast of
Flanders, and approached the port of Damme, in which the French fleet,
three times more numerous, was lying at anchor. Many of the French
troops and sailors were then absent from the ships, engaged in predatory
excursions throughout the country. As the English neared the coast, they
saw a number of vessels lying outside the harbour, which, capacious as
it was, could not contain them all. Shallops, or fishing boats, were
then sent in to reconnoitre, and returned with the news that the fleet
had been left without sufficient hands to defend it. No time was lost.
The "tall ships" along the coast were attacked, and captured with little
difficulty. The smaller vessels, which, when the tide went down, were
left upon the beach, were plundered and set on fire, the men on board
escaping to the shore. The English then approached the harbour, for the
purpose of attacking the fleet within it; but here a delay took place,
in consequence of the difficulty of bringing a large force to bear in so
confined a space.
The period of inaction, however, did not last long, and the fleet, on the
preparation of which Philip had exhausted his resources, was annihilated.
When the conquerors had returned thanks to Heaven for their victory, they
sent 300 of the prizes to England; these were richly laden with stores
for the French army--corn, oil, wine, and other provisions. Others of
the ships which were on shore, were burnt within the harbour. A portion
of the fleet, which lay higher up, protected by the town, still remained
uninjured; and the English, having landed, were joined by the Count of
Flanders, and proceeded to attack the place. Meanwhile the French king
had learnt the destruction of his fleet, and having raised the siege
of Ghent, was advancing with the utmost rapidity. The English and the
Flemings made a gallant defence in the engagement which soon afterwards
took place; but the force opposed to them was overwhelming, and they
were compelled to retreat to their ships, with a loss which is stated by
the French to have been 2,000 men. But the English had no intention of
relinquishing the contest, and from the shores of the Isle of Walcheren,
they watched their opportunity for renewing the attack. Philip perceived
that the unskilfulness of his seamen left no hope of preserving the
remainder of his ships, and he therefore set fire to them himself, that
they might not fall into the enemy's hands. It was evident that the
project of invading England must now be abandoned, the French king having
no means of transporting his troops across the Channel. He even found
it impossible to maintain them in Flanders, and was compelled to make
a hasty retreat into his own territories, with scarcely an effort to
maintain possession of the towns he had taken.
Elated by the success of his arms, John assumed all his old arrogance
of demeanour, and showed little disposition to fulfil the terms of
the treaty into which he had entered with the Pope. He now determined
to invade France, and for this purpose he summoned the barons of the
kingdom to attend him at Portsmouth with their troops. They obeyed the
command; but when, in warlike array, they appeared before the king,
they refused to set sail unless the exiled bishops were immediately
recalled, according to his promise. John was compelled to submit, and
Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, with the Bishops of London,
Ely, Lincoln, Bath, and Hereford, were restored to their benefices. The
monks of Canterbury also returned in peace to their cloister. The king
and the archbishop met each other at Winchester, where they exchanged a
kiss of amity, and Langton gave the king absolution for the injuries done
to himself and his colleagues; John once more taking an oath to execute
justice, and to preserve his fealty to the Pope. But Stephen Langton, one
of the ablest men who ever had filled the archiepiscopal chair, was not
likely to place much confidence in the promises of the king; and John
evidently regarded the archbishop with bitter hatred, as the cause of all
his troubles.
[Illustration: JOHN DOING HOMAGE TO THE POPE'S LEGATE. (_See p._ 262.)]
[Illustration: ST. PETER'S CHURCH, NORTHAMPTON.]
Leaving directions for the barons to follow him with all speed, John
embarked a body of troops in a few ships, and reached the island of
Jersey. The barons, however, were little disposed to follow their
cowardly king; and the scheme for securing their liberties, which, in
a vague and indefinite form, had long held possession of their minds,
now began to assume strength and consistency. They excused themselves
from following the king, by the assertion that their term of feudal
service was expired; and, profiting by his absence, proceeded to hold a
great council at St. Albans, at which they formulated the complaints
of the nation, and threatened with death such of the king's officers as
should exceed their provisions. Meanwhile, John, having looked in vain
for the appearance of the barons, returned from Jersey in a transport
of rage, and, collecting his army of mercenaries, marched towards the
north, burning up and devastating the lands of the rebellious nobles.
At Northampton, he was met by the Archbishop of Canterbury, who openly
censured these acts of violence, and told him that, according to his
oath, his vassals ought to be tried by their peers, and not crushed
by arms. "Mind you your church," the king replied, "and leave me to
govern the state." He then continued his march to Nottingham; but here,
Langton, who joined the courage of the soldier to the wisdom of the
priest, again presented himself in the royal presence, and this time with
more determined carriage. He calmly told the king that if such a course
of action was continued, he would excommunicate all the ministers and
officers of the crown who obeyed the royal will. John seldom maintained
his ground against a determined opponent, and he now gave way once
more, and, as a matter of form, summoned the barons to meet him, or his
justices. Having thus stopped the tyrannous career of the king, the brave
archbishop proceeded to London, where, on the 25th of August, he called
a second council of the barons, and read to them the provisions of the
charter granted by Henry I. on his accession. In that assembly of feudal
lords he delivered an address advocating the principles of liberty and
justice; and, having induced the council to adopt as the basis of their
operations the charter of Henry I., he caused them to swear fidelity to
each other, and to the cause in which they were embarked. A month later,
the Cardinal Nicholas, a new legate of the Pope, arrived in England, for
the purpose of receiving the indemnity which had been promised by John,
and of removing the interdict from the kingdom. Once more John appeared
on his knees, renewing his oath of fealty to Innocent, and doing homage
to the legate. He paid the sum of 15,000 marks to the bishops, and
undertook to give them 40,000 more. The interdict was then removed, the
churches lost their funereal appearance, and once more the bells rang
out their daily call to prayer. The cause of liberty has never been long
maintained by the Church of Rome; and as soon as the submission of John
was thus completely assured, she relinquished her support of the barons,
and commanded her bishops to give their unreserved allegiance to the
king. The nobles, however, still relied upon the strength of their cause,
although unblessed by the Pope; and Stephen Langton remained firmly at
their head, as one who dared do right though all the world forbade it.
The following year (1214) was rendered memorable by the battle of
Bouvines, in which the French gained a complete victory over English,
Flemish, and German troops. A powerful confederacy, in which John took
a prominent part, had been formed against the French king. Ferrand,
Count of Flanders, Reynaud, Count of Boulogne, and Otho, Emperor of
Germany, determined, along with John, to invade France simultaneously,
and to divide that kingdom among themselves. The partition was already
made: Ferrand was to receive Paris, with the Isle of France, Reynaud the
country of Vermandois, John the territory beyond the Loire, and Otho all
the remaining provinces. The English king dispatched a body of troops,
commanded by William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, to Valenciennes,
which had been appointed the headquarters of the confederates; he then
proceeded to Poitou, whence he led his army into Brittany. Philip, who
was thus menaced on both sides, sent his son Louis to oppose the troops
of John, and to prevent his advance. This was not difficult, and the
cowardice or indecision of the English king kept him in a state of
inactivity, while his allies were being utterly routed. Philip, whose
forces were inferior in number to those of his enemies, gave them battle
at Bouvines, a village between Lisle and Tournay, and after a sanguinary
conflict the Earl of Salisbury, the Count of Flanders, and the Count of
Boulogne were taken prisoners, together with great numbers of nobles and
knights of inferior rank. The Bishop of Beauvais, whose martial spirit
was untamed by his long imprisonment, appeared again in the field on this
occasion, and he it was who took prisoner the gallant William Longsword.
The bishop, however, no longer used a sword, but carried in its stead a
formidable club, with which he laid about him, having satisfied himself,
by some curious logical process, that in doing so he was acting in
accordance with the canon of the Church, which forbade her priests to
shed blood. He was not the only bishop who distinguished himself on that
day as a warrior. Guerin of Senlis appeared among the French troops, like
Odo of Bayeux among the soldiers of the Conqueror, bearing a wand, or
staff of authority, with which he waved them on to victory. The battle of
Bouvines, which was fought on the 27th of July, 1214, completed the ruin
of John.
A few months later John made proposals for a truce, which he obtained for
five years, on condition of restoring all the towns and fortresses which
he had taken during the expedition. He then made a disgraceful retreat
to England, where, with the true spirit of a coward, he vented upon his
unoffending subjects that rage which he dared not display towards his
foes. He disregarded all the vows he had taken, and let loose his foreign
mercenaries over the country, who oppressed and robbed the people in
every direction, unrestrained by law, and secure of the king's favour.
But his career of tyranny was now drawing to a close. Each day which
was marked by new acts of oppression cemented more closely the league
among the barons, who only waited an opportunity of assembling together
for the purpose of arranging a combined movement. Such an opportunity
presented itself at the feast of St. Edmund, on the 20th of November,
when pilgrims of all ranks, from every part of the country, proceeded
to St. Edmundsbury to offer their devotions at the shrine of the saint.
Mingling with the crowd of worshippers, the champions of freedom advanced
one by one in order of seniority to the high altar, on which they placed
their swords, and swore that if the king refused to admit the rights
they demanded from him, they would one and all abandon their allegiance,
renounce their vows of fealty, and compel him by force of arms to sign a
charter granting their just requests. Having agreed to assemble at the
court for this purpose during the approaching festival of Christmas, they
separated.
When Christmas Day arrived John was at Worcester, where he was attended
only by a few of his immediate retainers and the foreign mercenaries.
None of his great vassals came, as the custom was at that season, to
offer their congratulations. His attendants tried in vain to assume an
appearance of cheerfulness and festivity, and among the people such an
appearance had long ceased to be found when the king was present. Alarmed
at the gloom which surrounded him, and the desertion of the barons, John
hastily rode to London, and there shut himself up in the house of the
Knights Templars, which was as strong as a fortress. The temper in which
the barons entered upon their cause may be inferred from the seasons
which they chose for their efforts, and the manner in which they invoked,
as it were, the blessing of Heaven upon them. Some holy day consecrated
each step of their way, and marked the renewal of the struggle against
tyranny. On the feast of the Epiphany they assembled in great force at
London, and presenting themselves before the king, demanded an audience.
John was compelled to grant the request, but he assumed a bold and
defiant air, and met the barons with an absolute refusal, and the most
violent threats. Two of their number were affected by these menaces, and
one of the bishops joined them in consenting to recede from their claims;
but the rest of the assembly were made of sterner stuff, and firmly
maintained their demands. John looked upon their calm and dauntless
faces with a dread which he could not conceal. He entirely changed his
manner, and descended from invective to expostulation. "This petition,"
he said, "treats of matters weighty and arduous. You must grant me
time for deliberation until Easter, that I may be able, in considering
the request, to satisfy the dignity of my crown." Many of the barons
were opposed to such a delay, knowing how little dependence could be
placed upon the king's good faith; but the greater number consented on
condition that Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, William, Earl
of Pembroke, and the Bishop of Ely, should be sureties for the king that
he would give them a reply at the time appointed.
As soon as the nobles had quitted his presence, John directed his
efforts to escaping from the pledge he had given, and took measures
which he hoped would bring the rebellious lords within the reach of his
vengeance. The important privilege of the appointment of bishops, which
in former years had given rise to so many disputes between the Crown and
the Church, was now formally abandoned; and when, by this means, John
believed himself to have secured the goodwill of the clergy, he caused a
new oath of allegiance to be administered by the sheriffs to all the free
men of their several counties. He then dispatched messengers to Rome,
entreating the aid of the Pope against the treasonable violence of the
barons. Innocent listened to the appeal, and showed himself determined
to support the cause of his royal vassal. The English nobles had also
sent their message to the Pontiff, but he answered it only by a letter
of threats and reproaches, which was addressed to Stephen Langton,
commanding him and his colleagues at once to cease their opposition to
the king. Langton, with a high-souled courage, the full extent of which
we can now only imperfectly appreciate, disregarded the command, and
dared to defend a righteous cause, even in defiance of the Pope. The
king, as a last effort to sustain his tottering throne, assumed the
cross, making a solemn oath that he would lead an army on a new crusade
to the Holy Land.
When Easter day arrived the king was at Oxford. The barons of England
assembled at Stamford, attended by 2,000 knights, and vast multitudes
of their retainers, and of the people. They had marched to Brackley,
when they were met by Stephen Langton, the Earl of Warrenne, and the
Earl of Pembroke, who came to bear their message to the king. The barons
delivered the schedule containing the chief articles of the petition,
and declared that if their claims were not instantly granted they would
appeal to arms. When the deputation returned to the king, and Langton
explained to him the terms of the document which he brought, John
fell into a transport of rage, and swore that he would not grant them
liberties which would make him a slave. He proposed some modifications
of the charter which were at once rejected. Pandulph, who stood at his
side, asserted that the primate of the kingdom ought to excommunicate
the rebels; but Langton replied that the Pope's real intentions had not
been expressed, and that so far from doing so, he would excommunicate
the foreign mercenaries who overran the kingdom, unless the king ordered
their instant dismissal.
The barons now declared war against the king, chose Robert Fitz-Walter
as their leader, and marched against the castle of Northampton, which
was garrisoned by foreigners. "The army of God and the Church," for so
they styled themselves, was composed of the best and bravest men in
the kingdom; but the strong fortress to which they first laid siege
resisted all their attacks. They had prepared no battering-rams, or
other necessary engines; and the garrison, on their side, fought with
the desperation of men who knew that they had earned for their misdeeds
a bitter retribution. After fifteen days the besiegers raised the siege,
and marched towards Bedford. The barons were strong in arms, and in the
justice of their cause; but their strength was not of itself sufficient
to overturn the throne, or force the king to submission. Within the past
century a middle class of freemen had been growing up in the country,
increasing in wealth and influence year by year. Had the king possessed
the affections of the free burghers of England, the Anglo-Norman barons,
powerful as they were, would have been driven from the country; but the
people knew that now, at least, the cause of the nobles was their own,
and they rose with joy to welcome the pioneers of freedom. The men of
Bedford opened their gates at the approach of the army, and the citizens
of London sent messengers to the leaders, inviting them to march thither
with all speed, and assuring them of the support of the people.
On Sunday, the 24th of May, the troops of Fitz-Walter reached the
capital. The city of London lay wrapped in that Sabbath stillness which,
on summer days descends like a blessing upon an English landscape, as
though Nature herself had ceased from labour. The gates were open, and
the music of the church bells floated softly through the air as the "army
of God" approached the walls. They passed through the streets in perfect
order and profound silence--a mien well suited to convey to all who saw
them a conviction of the solemn nature of the duty they came to perform,
and of the calm determination with which they would pursue their object.
On the following day the barons issued a proclamation to all the nobles
and knights of the kingdom who had remained neutral, calling upon them to
join the national standard, unless they wished to be treated as enemies
of their country. This proclamation aroused the slumbering patriotism of
those who received it. The baron, with his troop of men-at-arms, and the
knight, whose only property was his horse and his sword, alike hastened
to London. In the words of the old chroniclers, there is no need to name
the men who composed the "army of God and the Church;" they were the
whole nobility of England.
Such a demonstration as this might have made a much braver monarch than
John Lackland turn white with fear. Only a very few knights from among
his numerous courtiers remained at his side, and these were hardly
retained in their allegiance by a mingling of lavish promises and
threats. The terror of the king now conquered his rage. Once more he
assumed an affable demeanour, and with a sickly smile he told the Earl of
Pembroke that the barons had done well, and that, for the sake of peace
and the exaltation of his reign, he was ready to grant the liberties they
demanded. From Odiham, in Hampshire, where John was then staying, the
Earl of Pembroke carried this message to his friends, and informed them
that the king only desired them to name a day and place of meeting. The
barons replied--"Let the day be the 15th of June; the place, Runny-mede."
The scene thus chosen was well suited to the occasion. No narrow walls
of wood or stone, which in succeeding years should crumble into dust
and leave no trace, bore witness to the solemn act whose effects were
destined to extend to remotest ages--the victory of freedom was gained
under the free sky, the dome of the universal temple of God. On the
appointed day the king quitted Windsor Castle, and proceeded to the
green meadow which was called by the Saxon name of Runnymede, situated
on the banks of the Thames between Staines and Windsor. He was attended
by Pandulph, Almeric, the Grand Master of the Templars, the Earl of
Pembroke, together with eight bishops and thirteen other men of rank;
but of these, though they stood at his side, few really adhered to the
tyrant, or were prepared to give him any advice contrary to the wishes of
the people. On the other side stood the barons of the kingdom, attended
by a vast multitude, representing all other classes of the population. So
completely was the arrogance of the king subdued, so hopeless appeared
all resistance, that, with scarcely a word of remonstrance, John gave
his assent to the document which, as the foundation of the liberties of
England, is known to us by the name of Magna Charta--the Great Charter.
[Illustration: JOHN REFUSING HIS ASSENT TO THE ARTICLES OF THE BARONS.
(_See p._ 267.)]
To the Englishman of modern times, the event of that day bears a deep
and solemn interest, far surpassing that of battles or of conquests.
He is surrounded now by many of the blessings which freedom gives to
all who live beneath her sway. Under her warm smile civilisation grows
and flourishes, knowledge sheds around her calm, undying light; wrong
is redressed by free opinion; and man, with brow erect, throws off the
tyranny of man. In the green meadow by the Thames was sown the seed which
bears such fruits as these. Centuries more of toil and struggle may be
needed to bring it to maturity. The progress of the human race is slow,
and beset with difficulties: amidst the present material prosperity, with
all the advantages of civil and religious liberty, we are still far from
the goal which lies before us. Error still treads close upon the heels
of Truth; poverty still retains her grasp upon half the world, grinding
men down to a life-long struggle, with little joy or hope. But the work
steadily goes on. With each passing year flies a prejudice; with each
passing year some gigantic wrong lifts up its head, and claims and meets
redress. Now, at least, the way is open to us, and cannot be mistaken;
the light of Heaven shines full upon it, the obstacles grow fewer and
weaker every day, the efforts to oppose them grow stronger, and the final
triumph is secure. The value and importance of Magna Charta is not to be
estimated by its immediate application to ourselves. Those positive laws
and institutions of later times, which secure our rights and liberties,
all have their root in this charter.
It had many evils to remedy. (I.) In the first place the Church secured
its rights and freedom of election. (II.) Then came provisions against
the royal exactions from the tenants. During the reigns of the successors
of the Conqueror, the king had exercised the power of exacting arbitrary
payments from his subjects under the name of reliefs; of farming out the
estates of his wards to the highest bidder; of marrying the heir during
his minority, heiresses at any age above fourteen, and widows if they
held estates of the crown, giving their hands to whom he pleased. In the
reign of John, the exercise of the laws was a matter of common bargain
and sale. Bribes--or, as they were called, fines--were received for the
king's help, against adverse suitors, for perversion of justice, or delay
in its administration. Sometimes it would happen that bribes were given
by both parties, in which case it may be supposed that the highest bidder
would gain the day, the money of those who lost being returned to them.
The charters which had been granted by Henry I., Stephen, and Henry II.,
had little effect on this state of things, and were, in fact, repeatedly
violated both by themselves and their successors. By the provisions of
Magna Charta reliefs were limited to a moderate sum, computed according
to the rank of the tenant; the wrong and waste committed by the guardians
in chivalry restrained; the disparagement in matrimony of female wards
was forbidden; and widows were secured from being forcibly disposed
of in marriage. (III.) Arbitrary taxation was provided against by the
provision that scutage and aids were henceforward to be granted by the
Great Council of the kingdom, except in the cases of the deliverance of
the king from prison, the knightage of his eldest son, and the marriage
of his eldest daughter. The elements of the great council are also
described, and their character will appear from these pages. (IV.) The
franchises of the city of London, and of all towns and boroughs were
declared inviolate. (V.) The ports were freely thrown open to foreign
merchants, and they were permitted to come and go as they pleased. (VI.)
The Court of Common Pleas, which had hitherto followed the king's person,
whereby much inconvenience and injustice had been occasioned, was fixed
at Westminster.
The most important clauses of Magna Charta are those which protect
the personal liberty and property of every freeman in the kingdom, by
giving security from arbitrary imprisonment and unjust exactions. (VII.)
"No freeman," says the Charter, "shall be taken, or imprisoned, or
dispossessed of his tenement, or be outlawed or exiled, or any otherwise
destroyed; nor will we go upon him nor send upon him, unless by the
lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land. (VIII.) To none
will we sell, to none will we deny or delay, right or justice."
The barons required securities for the due observance of these
provisions. They demanded that the foreign officers of the crown, with
their families and retainers, should be sent out of the country; that
the barons should keep possession of the city, and Stephen Langton of
the Tower of London, for the two months following; that twenty-five of
their number should act as guardians of the liberties of the realm,
whose business it should be to secure the observance of the charter, and
who, in case of its provisions being disregarded, should have power to
make war upon the king, and to seize upon his towns, castles, or other
possessions, until the grievance should be redressed. By this article the
twenty-five barons were invested with the real government of the kingdom,
setting aside altogether the royal prerogative--a measure which, opposed
as it was to all precedent, must be considered as having been rendered
necessary by the duplicity of the king, by whom the most solemn oaths
were habitually disregarded.
When the vast assembly had dispersed, and the defeated tyrant found
himself again in Windsor Castle, attended only by some of the foreign
adventurers who still hung about his person, he gave vent to all the
suppressed passion of his soul. In transports of impotent rage, he
uttered fearful curses against the deed which had been done, and against
those who had forced him to do it; he rolled his eyes and gnashed his
teeth like one insane, and restlessly strode about his chamber gnawing
sticks and stones. So say the chroniclers, and the account may readily
be believed: a depraved heart, hardened by a long course of crime and
cruelty, would probably display itself in an outburst of passion in
colours such as these. His attendants, the slaves of his gold, who saw
their career of robbery and injustice suddenly cut short, incited the
king to vengeance for the humiliation he had sustained, and counselled
him to resist the Charter, and to take measures for the recovery of
his power. John, released from his immediate fears, listened to their
advice, and sent two of them to the Continent to carry out the schemes
they proposed. One of them took his way to Rome to appeal to the Pope for
prompt and efficient aid; the other proceeded to Flanders, Gascony, and
among the former Continental vassals of the king, to hire fresh bodies
of mercenaries, and to bring them over to England. Meanwhile the king
entered secretly into communication with all the governors of castles
who were foreigners, ordering them to lay up stores of provisions, and
keep themselves prepared for defence, "doing this without noise and with
caution, for fear of alarming the barons."
The barons did not yet know what hard and unremitting effort the struggle
for liberty demands. They looked upon the work as done, when, in fact,
it was only beginning; and on their departure from Runnymede they
appointed a grand tournament to be held on the 2nd of July at Stamford,
in celebration of their joy. No sooner did he hear of their intention,
than John threw to the winds the oaths he had taken, and formed a plot to
seize possession of London during the absence of the nobles. The scheme,
however, was communicated to them, and the tournament was arranged to
take place nearer the capital. The king now proceeded to Winchester, when
some deputies from the barons presently demanded an interview with him.
They required an explanation of the line of conduct, ambiguous, if not
treacherous, which he had adopted since the signing of the Charter. John
met them with the hollow smile which he was accustomed to put on at such
times, and assured them that their suspicions were unfounded, and that
he was prepared to fulfil all that he had promised. The barons withdrew,
little satisfied by these assertions, and the king took his way to the
Isle of Wight, where he remained for three weeks. Here he refused all
companionship but that of the fishermen and sailors of the place, whose
manners he adopted, with the view of making himself popular among them.
To a certain extent he seems to have succeeded; and during the struggle
which soon afterwards took place, the English sailors proved generally
true to his cause.
In July, John was at Oxford; but after a stay of a few days he again
turned to the south, and proceeded to Dover, where he remained, anxiously
awaiting the arrival of the mercenaries whom he expected from the
Continent. During the month of September, the barons learnt that troops
were landing in small bodies, with little noise, but in a manner which
indicated a well-organised confederacy. William d'Albini was then sent
with a picked force of men-at-arms to seize upon the royal castle at
Rochester. Having done so, he found it extremely ill-furnished with
stores or means of defence; and in this condition it was besieged by
John, who had quitted Dover with an army from various parts of the
Continent. Each day brought new reinforcements across the Channel, and
their numbers so greatly increased that when the barons quitted London
to the relief of Rochester, they were compelled to turn back before
the superior force opposed to them. It seemed as though the elements
themselves could alone check this invasion of banditti. A certain Hugh de
Boves, one of their leaders, had embarked from Calais with a vast force
of his irregular troops, when a storm arose, against which the unskilful
mariners were quite helpless, and the whole of the ships, with those on
board, were destroyed. John heard of this loss with another burst of
rage, but he still pressed on the siege of Rochester, and succeeded in
preventing all succour from reaching it. D'Albini maintained the defence
for eight weeks with unshaken determination, and it was not until the
outer wall of the castle had been beaten down, and the garrison reduced
to the last extremity by famine, that he threw open the gates. John
immediately ordered the brave commander to be hanged with all his men;
but Peter de Mauley, the leader of one of the foreign bands, opposed
this command, because he feared the acts of retaliation which it would
certainly provoke on the part of the English. The tyrant, shorn of his
power on all sides, was compelled to submit his barbarous will to the
decision of the foreign chief. The prisoners of inferior rank were
butchered by the king's orders, but the knights were spared, and were
sent for imprisonment to the strong castles of Corfe and Nottingham.
The Pope now responded to the application of John by declaring himself
against the English nation, and issuing sentence of excommunication
against the barons. He asserted that they were worse than Saracens, for
daring to rebel against a vassal of the Holy See, a religious monarch
who had taken up the cross. This decision of the Pope, together with the
success at Rochester, gave John new courage, and he marched northward
to St. Albans, accompanied by the immense force which, composed of many
races, and presenting striking contrasts of appearance and accoutrements,
possessed one common attribute of unredeemed ferocity. The citizens of
London, who were among the first to join in the struggle for right,
were also among the bravest to maintain it, and as the foreign hordes
swept by the city, showed an undaunted front, which deterred the king
from attacking them. From St. Albans he passed on towards Nottingham,
encouraging his soldiers to seize their pay from the wretched inhabitants
of the country. The northern counties had long been the chief seat of
disaffection, and now Alexander, the young King of Scotland, who had
concluded an alliance with the English barons, crossed the borders with
an army, and laid siege to the castle of Norham. John saw the means of
vengeance in his hands, and he determined to use them to the utmost.
A few days after the feast of Christmas, when the ground was covered
with snow, he marched from Nottingham into Yorkshire, laying waste the
country and meeting with no opposition. True to the instincts of his base
and malignant character, he became more ruthless in proportion to the
helplessness of his victims. Every house and village on the road were
destroyed, the king himself giving the example, and setting fire with his
own hands in the morning to the roof which had sheltered him during the
night. The fury of the savage horde did not end there. The inhabitants,
driven from their homes, were plundered of everything they possessed, and
often butchered upon their own hearthstones. Others, less happy, were
subjected to torture to make them give up their hidden stores of money.
[Illustration: RUNNYMEDE, FROM COOPER'S HILL.]
The expedition of John to the north, like that of William the Conqueror
through the same district, was one long course of rapine and cruelty;
castles and towns were burned to the ground, and the path of the king
was marked by a trail of blood among heaps of blackened ruins. The young
King of Scots retired before the vast force brought against him, and John
pushed his way to Edinburgh. Here he found himself in danger of attack,
and, as was usual with him in such cases, he at once turned back, and
recrossed the border. Among the towns burnt up by the king during this
expedition were Alnwick, Morpeth, Mitford, Roxburgh, Berwick, Haddington,
and Dunbar. A division of his forces had been left in the south to
oppose the barons, and keep in check the citizens of London; and this
division, reinforced by fresh arrivals from the Continent, made predatory
incursions through the southern counties, marking their course with equal
ferocity. The only distinction between their conduct and that of the
king, appears to have been that the castles which fell into their hands
were occupied by some one of their number, instead of being destroyed.
[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF THE WRITING OF THE GREAT CHARTER.]
Meanwhile, further measures had been taken by the Church against the
insurgent barons. The Abbot of Abingdon, with other ecclesiastics, in
obedience to the tyrant and the Pope who supported him, fulminated a
second sentence of excommunication, in which Robert Fitz-Walter, the
chief of the confederacy, with many others of the most powerful nobles,
were mentioned by name, and an interdict was placed upon the city of
London. The measure was not without its effect upon certain classes of
the country people, but the courage and intelligence of the citizens of
London rose superior to the thunder of Rome. In defiance of the interdict
they dared still to offer their prayers to Heaven, and to keep the solemn
festival of Christmas; the churches remained open, and the bells still
rang out the note of freedom.
But dangers were thickening on every side around them. The barons saw
themselves hemmed in by increasing hordes of foreigners, and at the
same time had reason to fear the effect of the excommunication upon the
mass of the people. It does not appear that there was among the nobles
any man of sufficient influence or military genius to break through the
obstacles by which they were surrounded. Many councils were held and
schemes proposed, only to be laid aside as unfeasible. At length the
barons determined to offer the English throne to Prince Louis, the eldest
son of Philip of France. Such a step scarcely admits of excuse under any
circumstances; but the barons, unable of themselves to wrest the power
from John, might not improbably consider that any change would be to
their advantage, and that it would be better for the country to be under
the rule even of the son of their ancient enemy, than to submit to a
tyrant who had lost every attribute of manhood.
Louis had married Blanche of Castile, who was the niece of John, and
thus he might pretend to some shadow of a title to the crown. The barons
also considered that, if he landed in England, many of the foreign
mercenaries, who were subjects of France, would be detached from the
cause of John, and would join the standard of their prince. When the
proposal was carried to the court of France, it was received by the
king and his son with that degree of exultation which might have been
anticipated. Louis was anxious to sail for England immediately; but
Philip, with more wisdom and caution, demanded that twenty-four hostages,
the flower of the English nobility, should first be sent to Paris, in
assurance of the fidelity of the barons. A French fleet then sailed up
the river Thames, and arrived at London in February (1216), conveying a
small army, which formed the first detachment of the French forces. The
commander informed the barons that Prince Louis would arrive in person at
the approaching feast of Easter.
The Pope--true to the cause he had embraced--no sooner heard of these
preparations than he sent a new legate into England, who, as he passed
through France, boldly remonstrated with the king and his son upon the
course they were pursuing. Once more England was called the patrimony
of St. Peter, and Philip was asked how he dared to attack it, and was
threatened with immediate excommunication in case he persisted in doing
so. Louis immediately set up a claim to the English throne in right of
his wife; and, leaving the legate in astonishment at this new view of the
matter, he escaped from further argument, and took his way to Calais.
Having collected a great army, well furnished with stores, he embarked
them on board 680 vessels, and set sail from Calais at the appointed
time. The English sailors of the Cinque Ports, on whom the efforts of
John to secure their good will had not been thrown away, lay in wait for
an opportunity of inflicting damage on the invaders, and a storm having
arisen by which the French fleet became scattered, they took advantage of
the circumstance, and cut off and captured some of the ships. The rest of
the fleet arrived safely at Sandwich, where Louis landed on the 30th of
May.
John had arrived at Dover with a large army; but so far from attempting
to prevent the landing of the French, he made a rapid retreat at the
news of their approach. His own unhappy subjects, however, were not in
a position to oppose him; them he could attack and slaughter in safety,
and accordingly, wheresoever his army passed, the same cruelties were
practised, the same ravages committed as before. He went to Guildford,
whence he proceeded to Bristol by way of Winchester. Meanwhile, Louis
led his forces to Rochester Castle, which he besieged and captured, and
then passed on to London. The French prince entered the capital on the
2nd of June, 1216, and was received with the greatest demonstrations of
joy by rich and poor. A magnificent procession was formed to accompany
him to St. Paul's Church, and there, after he had offered up his prayers,
the barons of the kingdom and the citizens paid him the vows of homage.
He then placed his hand upon a copy of the Gospels, and swore to restore
to the country its just and righteous laws, and to each man the lands or
property of which he had been despoiled.
One of the first acts of Louis was to issue a manifesto, which was
addressed to the King of Scotland and to all the owners of land
throughout the country who were not then present in London. The result
of this proclamation soon made itself apparent. Any jealousy towards a
foreign prince was entirely subdued by the deep hatred with which all
classes of the people regarded their king. The force of an idea was not
then so great as in more recent times; the confederacy of the barons,
notwithstanding the high and just cause for which they fought, was weak,
because it was without a powerful and recognised head. No sooner had
the people a living man round whom to rally, instead of a collection
of names, than they at once flocked to join his standard. Of the few
nobles who had accompanied John on his marauding expeditions, nearly all
quitted him at once, and took their way to London; all the people of
the northern counties rose up among the ruins of their homes, and cried
aloud for vengeance; the King of Scotland prepared an army to march once
more to the south; and the foreign mercenaries, with the exception of
the Gascons and Poitevins, renounced their adhesion to the tyrant, and
either quitted the country or joined the forces of Louis and the barons.
Dangers thickened about the king on every side, and his abject spirit was
sustained only by the consolations which Gualo, the Pope's legate, poured
into his ear. The legate assured him of the constant support of the Pope,
and exhorted him to courage, since it was impossible that any harm could
happen to a prince who was under the protection of Holy Church. But now
the news arrived that Pope Innocent, whose efforts alone had sustained
the tyrant in his power, was dead, and a considerable time elapsed before
his successor was appointed.
Louis marched his forces to Dover, and laid siege to the castle, which
was in the hands of Hubert de Burgh, a man whose character stands so
high in history that we are at a loss to understand how he should have
retained his allegiance to John. He, however, proved his loyalty by
maintaining a most gallant defence, and effectually repelled all the
attacks of the besiegers. Mention is made of a formidable engine of war,
called a _malvoisin_, or _bad neighbour_, which was sent by Philip to
be used by his son at the siege of Dover. Neither this engine nor the
bravery of the attacking troops availed anything against the strong walls
of the castle and the obstinate defence of the garrison; and, after a
siege which lasted several weeks, Louis was compelled to desist from the
attack, and he determined to reduce the place by famine. Meanwhile, a
number of the barons had laid siege to Windsor Castle, which also made a
vigorous defence. The king availed himself of the moment when they were
thus occupied to advance upon their estates, where he let loose the
greedy adventurers who still remained in his pay. The barons then raised
the siege to attack the king, who made a hasty retreat. Having succeeded
in eluding their pursuit, he reached the town of Stamford. The barons
made no attempt to molest him there, but turned and took their way to
Dover, where they joined the forces of Louis.
Dover Castle still held out, and the prince pertinaciously maintained his
position before it, thus losing three months of valuable time, which, had
it been well employed, would doubtless have placed him in possession of
the throne. In such a case, inactivity necessarily produced discontent,
and other causes of complaint soon presented themselves to the English
barons. Louis, who showed himself as deficient in policy as in military
skill, began to treat the English with disrespect, and made grants of
land and titles in England to his own countrymen. At the same time an
event occurred, or was believed to have occurred--and in either case the
result was the same--which was calculated to destroy at once the bonds of
alliance which existed between the barons and the French prince. One of
the followers of Louis, named the Viscount de Melun, being seized with
illness at London, and finding himself at the point of death, earnestly
desired to see those English nobles who remained in the city. When they
approached his bedside, he informed them that the prince, with sixteen
of his principal barons, had sworn that when the kingdom should be
conquered and Louis crowned, all the English who had joined his standard
should be banished for ever, as traitors not to be trusted, and their
offspring exterminated or reduced to poverty. "Doubt not my words," De
Melun said, with his dying breath; "I, who lie here about to die, was one
of the conspirators." Whether this extraordinary scene did or did not
take place, the report greatly increased the discontent among the barons.
Several of them quitted the standard of Louis, and those who remained
appear to have done so merely as the alternative of again tendering their
support to John.
While such was the condition of affairs in the French camp, it is
evident that there was nothing to oppose the king in his lawless course
of vengeance. He advanced with his troops to Lincoln, and having made
himself master of the town, he established his headquarters there, and
rallied around him fugitive bands of his mercenaries. His chief support
was derived from the adherence of the seamen of the country, who appear
to have remained firm in their resistance to the French invasion. Many
ships laden with stores on their way from the Continent were captured
by them, and thus the army of Louis found itself frequently deprived of
supplies. In the month of October the king set out on another predatory
excursion, which was destined to be his last. Leaving Lincoln, he passed
through the district of Croyland, burning up the farmhouses attached to
the abbey of that name. Then, proceeding eastward, he went to Lynn and
Wisbech, whence he reached the Cross Keys, a place on the south side
of the Wash. At low water the sands of this estuary are dry, so as to
admit of a passage across for horses and vehicles; but it is liable to a
sudden influx of the tide. For some reason which does not very clearly
appear, John determined to cross the Wash at the Cross Keys, and in doing
so he narrowly escaped the fate of Pharaoh. When his troops had nearly
reached the opposite shore, they heard the roar of the rising tide. The
king, alarmed, hastened his steps, and succeeded in reaching dry ground;
but on looking back, he saw all the carriages and sumpter-horses which
carried his stores and treasure overwhelmed by the waters. The waves
dashed and leaped over them, and presently carriages, horses, and men,
all disappeared in the whirlpool caused by the confluence of the tide and
of the current of the river Welland.
Giving vent to his rage by curses and complaints, John took his way
gloomily to the Abbey of Cistercians at Swineshead, where he remained
for the night. At supper he is said to have eaten to excess of peaches,
or pears, and drank great quantities of new cider. A story was current,
some fifty years later, that he was poisoned by the monks, but no
allusion is made to it in the accounts of his contemporaries; and it is
equally probable that his death resulted from excess, acting upon a body
already fevered by excitement. He was attacked during the night by severe
illness, and on mounting his horse early next morning he found himself
unable to sit upright. A horse-litter was then procured, in which he
was conveyed to the neighbouring castle of Sleaford. A burning fever,
attended with acute pains, had seized upon him; and it was with great
difficulty that, on the following day, he was carried to the castle of
Newark on the Trent. The shadow of coming death now appeared upon his
face, and he desired that a confessor might be sent for. The abbey of
Croxton was not far distant, and on receiving the message, the abbot
attended to witness the last moments of the king, and to offer him such
consolation as he had to bestow. The chroniclers describe the wretched
tyrant as dying in an extremity of agony and remorse. He appointed his
eldest son Henry as his successor, and a letter was written under his
direction to Honorius III., the newly-elected Pope, entreating protection
for his children. He caused his attendants to swear fealty to Henry,
and sent orders to the sheriffs and other royal officers throughout the
kingdom to render the prince their obedience. In his last moments, the
abbot asked where he desired that his body should be buried, and John
replied, "I commit my soul to God, and my body to St. Wulstan." He died
on the 18th of October, 1216, in the forty-ninth year of his age, having
reigned seventeen years. His body was conveyed to the cathedral church
of Worcester, of which St. Wulstan was the patron saint, and was there
buried.
[Illustration: THE DISASTER TO JOHN'S ARMY AT THE WASH. (_See p._ 275.)]
The character of John has been shown only too clearly in the records
of those miserable years during which he occupied the throne. It is
unquestionable that the very circumstances which entailed so much misery
upon the people under his rule were ultimately of the greatest benefit to
the country, and that the cowardice and tyranny of John produced results
of far more importance to the welfare of the English nation than the high
military talent and abilities of his predecessors. Yet, however highly
we may estimate the national blessings which have followed in the train
of Magna Charta, we cannot be blind to the fact, that, like every other
triumph of freedom, it was bought with tears and blood.
[Illustration: WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. (_From a photograph by Frith and
Co._)]