THE REIGN OF EDWARD I.
Accession of Edward--His Adventures while on Crusade--Death of
St. Louis--Arrival of Edward at Acre--Fall of Nazareth--Events
at Acre--Departure from Palestine--Edward in Italy--The
"Little Battle of Châlons"--Dealings with the Flemings--Edward
lands at Dover--Persecution of the Jews--Edward's Designs on
Wales--Character of the Welsh--Rupture with Llewelyn--Submission
of the Welsh--Conduct of David--Second Welsh Rising--Death
of Llewelyn--Execution of David--Annexation of Wales--Edward
on the Continent--Sketch of Scottish History--Attack of
the Norwegians--Deaths in the Royal Family--Death of
Alexander--Candidature of Robert Bruce--Death of the Maid of
Norway--Candidates for the Throne--Meeting at Norham--Edward's
Supremacy Acknowledged--He Decides in favour of Baliol.
Immediately after the funeral of Henry III., the barons proclaimed his
son Edward, then absent on the crusade, to be king. Walter Merton was
nominated chancellor of the kingdom, and the Earl of Gloucester, the Earl
of Cornwall the candidate for the Sicilian throne, and Walter Gifford,
Archbishop of York, were appointed regents. So wise were the measures
taken, and so general was the assent of all parties, that no disturbance
of the public peace took place, as had hitherto frequently happened on
the death of a king. Prince Edward was accepted by the people as their
ruler, and his accession was attended with less difficulty or opposition
than that of any of his predecessors.
When Louis IX. departed on his second expedition to the Holy Land, he
turned aside to attack the Bey of Tunis, and, instead of proceeding
direct to Syria, landed on the shores of Africa. This deviation from his
original course was probably due to the representations of his brother,
Charles of Anjou, who, in the battle of Grandella (1266), had won from
Manfred the crown of Italy. There was some pretence of a claim to tribute
possessed by the kings of Sicily against Tunis, but it is probable that
the real object of the expedition lay in the hope of plundering that
immense wealth which was supposed to be treasured up in the African
cities.
The forces of Louis soon made themselves masters of the town of Carthage,
but they had landed during the summer, and the excessive heat of that
unaccustomed climate, added to the want of good water and provision,
produced severe sickness among the crusaders. The character of Louis
IX. is one with few parallels in any age. Perversions of the religious
sentiment were common at the time in which he lived: he was not free
from their influence, and his piety was mingled with superstition and
austerity. But, in times of difficulty and danger, when the hypocrite
falls away, and the true is distinguished from the false, his fine
humanity and nobility of soul shone out in a manner which demands from
posterity its highest meed of honour. While his soldiers were dying
by hundreds around him, he was in the midst of them, giving up every
comfort and running every risk for the sake of administering to them. At
length he was himself smitten with the disease, and, feeling his death
approaching, he lay down calmly to await the inevitable event. In his
last moments we are informed that he thought only of the sufferings of
his family, and of the best form of words which might tend to console
them. "My friends," he said, "grieve not for me: I have finished my
course. It is right that I, as your chief, should lead the way. One day
you must all follow me; keep yourselves ready for the journey." Such were
the last words of this remarkable man, known in French history by the
name of Saint Louis.
When Edward received information of the course taken by his ally, he
also proceeded to Tunis; but on his arrival there, he found that Louis
was dead, and that less than one half of his army were remaining. The
progress of the disease, however, had been stayed, and the remaining
portion of the French army, deprived of the guidance of their leader,
had made terms with the Bey of Tunis, and appeared rather disposed to
stay where they were than to tempt further perils in the Holy Land. The
English soldiers appear to have been in some degree infected with the
same pusillanimous spirit. They recrossed the Mediterranean to Sicily,
and passed the winter at Trapani. Edward had restored unanimity to his
troops by the declaration, which he made with all the solemnity of an
oath, that if every man of them should desert him, he would go on to Acre
attended by his groom.
On breaking up his winter quarters, Edward found that his effective
force did not exceed 1,000 men. With these he set sail from Sicily
early in the spring, and proceeded to Acre, one of the few conquests
of the crusaders in the East which still remained to them. Small as the
force was with which Edward landed, his arrival produced consternation
among the Moslems, and proportionate joy among the Christians. The fame
of Richard Cœur-de-Lion was still fresh in their minds, and Edward,
already distinguished in the field of war, might be expected to emulate
the deeds of that renowned king.
At the time of Edward's arrival Acre was threatened by the Sultan of
Babylon, who had assembled an army without its walls, and had made
preparations for an assault. When the ships of the English prince
appeared in the distance, the Sultan at once retreated into the desert,
and passed into Egypt. Edward led his army into the interior, and carried
the city of Nazareth by storm. Nearly two hundred years had passed since
the banner of the Cross first waved over Jerusalem, and its streets ran
with blood shed by Christian hands. In these two hundred years the world
had made some progress in humanity. The advance of the arts of life, and
the spread of commerce, had done something to enhance the value of human
life, and to promote that intellectual activity which is ever opposed
to bloodshed. But these things had no influence over the spirit of
fanaticism--the most cruel spirit that has oppressed mankind in the guise
of an angel of light. The crusaders still believed that the blood of the
Moslem was an acceptable sacrifice to Heaven; they still believed that
the Saracens ought to be excluded from that mercy which every Christian
might ask from his fellow, and that in deeds of wholesale murder they
were doing God service. The Moslems at Nazareth were butchered as at
Jerusalem; and the knightly Edward led and directed the slaughter.
Soon after the massacre, the prince, with many of his soldiers, was
attacked by sickness, and was compelled to return to Acre. Here the army
of the Cross remained for a period of fifteen months, which seem to
have been passed in inactivity. Some few skirmishes took place with the
Saracens, during which the crusaders maintained their old reputation for
valour, and some few incursions were made upon the surrounding country,
which, in one instance, resulted in the plunder of a caravan, and in
another in the capture of two castles; but these were the only advantages
gained by the Christian troops during that period. This was not the
result of indolence on the part of Edward, or of any lack of will for
more important operations, but it appears that the force at his command
was insufficient for such purposes. The number of his troops did not
exceed 7,000 men, who were composed of all the nations of Europe, were
imperfectly disciplined, and after a time showed themselves disaffected
towards his authority. Such proved to be the case when they found that
Edward had brought little money with him, and that he received no
reinforcements.
On the other hand, the town of Acre had been so strongly fortified, in
some degree by Edward himself, that the Moslem leaders were deterred
from attacking it. The presence of the English prince, however, caused
them great annoyance; and since open measures were out of the question,
they determined to get rid of him by assassination. An elaborate scheme
was contrived for that purpose. The Emir of Jaffa sent presents to the
prince, with letters expressing his desire of becoming a Christian.
Edward returned a courteous reply, and on this pretence a lengthened
correspondence took place between them. The messengers of the Emir,
frequently visiting the prince, were at length permitted to come and go
without question or examination. One evening when Edward was lying in his
tent, unarmed and alone, the servant of the Emir appeared at the door,
and made his usual obeisance. Edward bade him enter, and as he did so
and knelt to present a letter, he suddenly drew a dagger with the other
hand, and made a blow at the prince's heart. Edward, whose personal
strength was little inferior to that of Cœur-de-Lion, caught his hand
and turned the dagger aside, receiving a slight wound in the arm. He then
threw the murderer to the ground and slew him with his own weapon.
The appearance of the prince's wound soon showed that the dagger had
been poisoned, and Edward therefore made his will, and believed that
his last hour was approaching. But there was an English surgeon at Acre
whose skill appears to have been greater than was usual in his day, and
who cut away the envenomed parts of the wound. The order of the Templars
also were noted for their knowledge of medicine, and the Grand Master of
the order sent his choicest drugs to assist the cure. These means, or a
natural strength of constitution, subdued the effects of the poison, and
the prince recovered. His wife Eleanor, who was famed for her virtues,
and who was tenderly attached to him, probably nursed him with the utmost
devotion to promote his recovery; but the account of her having sucked
the poison from his wound must be rejected. The story, like others which
have been received as forming part of English history, is little else
than a poet's fiction, and when referred to the chronicles of the time,
falls to the ground for want of corroborative evidence.
[Illustration: VIEW IN TUNIS.]
The sultan, who had other enemies to engage his attention, now adopted
more legitimate means of getting rid of the troublesome invaders. He sent
messengers to Edward with offers of peace, and a truce was ultimately
concluded for ten years. Edward had received from his father urgent
entreaties to return, and he was probably glad of an opportunity of
putting an end to an irksome period of inactivity. At the close of the
year 1272, he set sail from Acre for Sicily. On his arrival at Trapani,
he was met by an invitation from Gregory X., the reigning Pope, to visit
him at Rome. The Pontiff, who was newly elected, had, as Archbishop of
Liège, accompanied Edward to Palestine, and a firm friendship had arisen
between them. The prince therefore accepted the invitation and, having
crossed the straits of Messina, he proceeded by land through the south of
Italy.
On passing through Calabria, he was met by messengers who informed him of
the death of his father. The news affected him very deeply. Charles of
Anjou, who was then with him, and who was a man of a remarkably unfeeling
and ferocious character, expressed his surprise at such a demonstration
of grief. Referring to an infant son of Edward and Eleanor, who had
lately died, he told the prince that he appeared to mourn more for the
death of his old father than for his own child. Edward replied, "The loss
of my child is one that I may hope to repair, but the death of a father
is an irreparable loss."
When Edward arrived at Rome (February, 1273), the Pope was absent at
Civita Vecchia, and thither the prince followed him. Edward met with a
warm and hospitable reception from the Pontiff, and while in his presence
he demanded vengeance upon the murderers of Henry d'Almaine. But the
demand came too late. Simon de Montfort was already dead, his brother
Guy had disappeared, and his place of refuge was not known, while the
Count Aldobrandini was too powerful a noble to be proceeded against,
otherwise than by a nominal examination, which produced no result. It was
clear that the count was guilty, not of the murder, but only of giving
shelter to the assassins, one of whom was his son-in-law; and under these
circumstances, the English king was compelled to restrain his desire for
vengeance.
Quitting Civita Vecchia, Edward continued his journey through northern
Italy. Everywhere the ardent children of the South received him with
welcome and honour. The enthusiasm for the crusades, soon to be
altogether extinguished, showed itself as strongly now as in the days of
Robert or of Richard, and the people hailed the young English king with
the title of Champion of the Cross. Their sympathies were excited less by
his deeds of personal prowess in the East--which, limited as they were,
were exaggerated by the imaginative colouring of the minstrels--than
by the wound he had received in the holy cause. They remembered, too,
that amidst the general apathy of Europe he was the only prince who yet
remained to bear aloft the banner of the Cross.
Edward crossed the Alps, and took his way through France to Paris, having
received by the way various messengers, who made him acquainted with
the state of affairs in England. At Paris he was honourably entertained
by the French king, Philip the Rash, to whom he rendered homage for
those territories of which Philip was feudal suzerain. It is matter for
surprise that after so long an absence, and when a throne was waiting
his acceptance, Edward should show no desire to return to England. It is
at least evident that he must have felt full confidence in the security
of his succession or in his own power of suppressing rebellion. Instead
of proceeding from Paris to his own country, he took the way to Guienne,
where he remained for several months. The real motives for this step are
by no means clear, but it is probable that Edward had cause to suspect
the existence of certain plots against his life. The Pope had warned
him to beware of the swords of assassins, and he had reason to dread
the ambition of Philip, whose character was very different from that
of his father, and who was believed to entertain designs for obtaining
possession of all the Continental provinces held by the English.
The suspicions of Edward appear to have been confirmed by an incident
which took place in May, 1274, when he was still in Guienne. According
to the usages of chivalry, it was permitted for one knight to challenge
another to a trial of skill in the tournament; and such a challenge would
scarcely be refused by any man, whatever his degree, who had a regard for
his knightly fame. The Count of Châlons, a distinguished soldier, sent a
message of this kind to Edward, desiring to break a lance with him in the
tournament. The warlike king had no desire to evade the challenge; and,
waiving his high rank, he consented to meet the count upon even terms. On
the day appointed, Edward rode to the spot, attended by an escort of a
thousand men; but when he arrived there he saw to his surprise that his
adversary was accompanied by nearly two thousand. The king had already
heard rumours of some treachery said to be intended by the count, but,
with the temper of a brave man, he had despised them. The military array
before him now recalled these rumours to his memory, in a manner not to
be disregarded. The intended tournament was converted into a sanguinary
engagement, in which all the men of both sides took part, and Edward
himself performed some gallant feats of arms.
The English, seeing the advantage of numbers so greatly on the side of
the enemy, laid aside all the laws of chivalry, and determined to win
the day as best they might. The crossbowmen, whose skill was already
noted throughout Europe, obtained an immediate advantage against the
French foot-soldiers, and drove them from the field. They then joined
in the unequal conflict of the cavalry, and stabbed the horses of many
of the French knights, or cut their saddle-girths, and so brought them
to the ground. The Count of Châlons, furious at the resistance he met
with, forced his way to the king, and, after having in vain attempted
to unhorse him with his lance, closed with him, and grasping him round
the neck, endeavoured to drag him down. The count was celebrated for his
great strength, but the king was no less remarkable for that quality,
and he remained firmly in his saddle; while, forcing his horse suddenly
to one side, the count was pulled from his saddle, and fell heavily to
the ground. He was speedily remounted by some of his own party, but he
was so severely wounded or bruised that he called for quarter. Enraged
at his treachery, Edward dealt him several heavy blows by way of reply,
and then, indeed, gave him his life, but compelled him to surrender his
sword, and accept the boon from the hands of a common soldier--an act by
which, according to the laws of chivalry, the count was disgraced for
ever. In spite of the disparity of numbers, the result of this engagement
was decidedly in favour of the English. They took many of the French
knights prisoners, and great numbers of the foot-soldiers were butchered.
So fierce was the affray, and so large a number of those engaged were
slain, that it was afterwards known by the name of the "little battle of
Châlons."
Having thus read a lesson to all conspirators against his person, Edward
at length made preparations to return to England. Having sent directions
for his coronation, he took his way through France, passing through the
town of Montreuil. Here he stopped to arrange some disputes which had
arisen in the previous reign between the English and the Flemings, and
which are worthy of notice, as illustrating the commercial relations
of the two countries in those days. For a certain number of years
previously, the Counts of Flanders had been accustomed to supply for
the service of the Kings of England a certain number of foot-soldiers,
who were received on hire. In the reign of Henry III. these supplies
ceased to be demanded; but the Countess of Flanders claimed a sum of
money as arrears of pay, and on payment being refused, she seized all
the English wool--then largely exported from the country--to be found
in her territory. The Flemings were then the chief manufacturers of
woollen and other cloths, and Henry retaliated by detaining all their
manufactured goods then in England, and by prohibiting all commerce
between the two countries. This prohibition caused great loss and damage
to the Flemings, whose looms were thus rendered idle, and their workmen
left without employment. The object of the Countess was the renewal of
trade with England, and to this end she made application to Edward, and
offered a public apology for the wrong which had been committed. The king
acted with wisdom on this occasion, and, having sought the advice of some
experienced London merchants, he wisely removed the prohibition.
Edward landed at Dover on the 2nd of August, 1274, and seventeen days
afterwards he was crowned, with his wife Eleanor, at Westminster. The
return of the king from the Holy Land was hailed by the people with great
demonstrations of joy. According to Holinshed, the king and queen were
received "with all joy that might be devised. The streets were hung with
rich cloths of silk, arras, and tapestry; the aldermen and burgesses
of the city threw out of their windows handfuls of gold and silver, to
signify the great gladness which they conceived of his safe return; the
conduits ran plentifully with white wine and red, that each creature
might drink his fill." So readily did the people forget the injustice
and cruelties of their former monarchs, and so enthusiastically did they
welcome each new ruler, who they were willing to hope might bless the
land with peace and prosperity.
Edward's first exercise of power was by acts of extreme and merciless
tyranny, directed, not towards his Christian subjects, whose liberties
he showed no disposition to invade, but towards the unhappy Jews, who
had already suffered such repeated persecutions that it may almost be
considered matter for surprise that any of their race were left in the
country. On ascending the throne, Edward found the Royal treasury almost
exhausted, and there is no doubt that his proceedings against the Jews
were dictated by the necessity of raising money. That fanatical spirit
which had led him to direct the slaughter of unresisting Moslems, may
probably have justified him in his own eyes in his cruel persecutions
of Jews, who were no less regarded as infidels, and as unworthy of the
protection of the laws. The pretext put forward--for the day had arrived
when at least some pretext was required--was that the Jews had tampered
with the coinage of the realm, which had been found to be generally
clipped and adulterated. There was no evidence whatever to fix upon this
unhappy people as the authors of the crime, but their riches offered a
temptation to cupidity, and their helplessness admitted of their being
condemned without fear of the consequences. The hatred against the Jews
was universal, and the appearance of one of them before a Christian court
was followed as a matter of course by his condemnation.
The clipped coin was so common as to be found all over the kingdom;
but immediately such a piece of money was discovered in the possession
of a Jew, he was seized, submitted to the form of a trial, and hanged
without mercy. It is related that 280 of both sexes were executed in
London, besides which, large numbers were put to death in other towns.
The property of all those who were thus judicially murdered reverted to
the Crown; and, therefore, it is not difficult to see why these acts of
persecution were indulged in to so great an extent.
When the royal coffers had been replenished by such means as these,
Edward directed his attention to carrying out certain schemes, on which
he entered with calmness and determination. Influenced by as restless an
ambition as any of his predecessors, he directed his efforts to a field
on which, as it appeared, they had the best prospect of ultimate success.
Instead of carrying his army across the Channel to subdue provinces
between which and his throne the sea would continue to flow, he proposed
to himself the conquest of the whole island of Great Britain.
[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF EDWARD I.]
The first expedition of Edward was directed against the Welsh, whom
so many of the Anglo-Norman kings had in vain attempted to subdue.
Politically considered, there is no doubt that this expedition was wisely
ordered, and that the early conquest of those brave mountaineers has
proved in the highest degree beneficial to this country. At the time
of the accession of Edward, civilisation had made important progress
in England, while in Wales it had been stationary; but if we examine
the social condition of that people after the Conquest, as described
in the writings of a contemporary, and one of their own countrymen, we
shall find their national character depicted in colours which attract
our respect and admiration. In time of war they were brave, or even
fierce; but when the war was over, they showed that they could appreciate
the blessings of peace, and they betook themselves to their ordinary
avocations, and exchanged the rites of hospitality. In spite of the
aggressive wars made upon them from time to time, any Englishman who
visited them in their mountains, as a simple traveller without arms, was
sure of safe conduct and a kind reception. If he arrived in the morning
he was entertained until the evening by the young women, who played and
sang to him with the harp. There was a harp in every cottage, and with
it was to be found at least one person whose skill could bring out its
sweetest sounds. The people are described as possessed of great natural
dignity and freedom of speech, which gave them confidence even in
replying to princes.
If we may credit this account by one of their countrymen, we find here
one of those instances given in history of a people displaying many of
the amenities of social life while yet in the infancy of civilisation;
deriving their code of honour, laws, and manners from the influences of
unwritten memorials of the past--from songs and traditions. The mountain
maidens, who cheered the tired traveller with the music of the harp, had
no better clothing than the skins of sheep and goats. The chiefs, whose
sway over a thousand warriors was absolute, and who bore themselves
with undaunted mien in the presence of kings, kept state among bare
walls and benches and rode out to meet the English chivalry upon the
rough ponies of the mountains. It is related that when Henry II. passed
through the country, he looked with a contemptuous eye upon the poverty
of the inhabitants, until he perceived among them a pride greater than
his own, and based not upon gaudy trappings or outward show, but upon
the consciousness of a manhood which had no need of decorations. "These
people are poor," said a mountaineer to the king, "but such as they are,
thou shalt never subdue them; that is reserved for God in His wrath."
[Illustration: EDWARD I.]
During the contests between Henry III. and the De Montfort faction,
Llewelyn, the chief of the north of Wales, had supported the cause of
the Earl of Leicester, and, at the battle of Evesham, had fought on
his side. When that final struggle was over, and the Welsh chieftain
had returned to his native hills, he still retained his regard for the
fallen family of De Montfort, and sent to offer his hand in marriage to
Eleanor, daughter of the deceased earl. The offer was accepted, and the
young lady, in company with her brother Almeric, set sail from France
to reach her affianced husband; but the vessel having been intercepted
by some English ships, the bride and her escort were conveyed to the
court of Edward, who detained them prisoners. Exasperated by this act of
oppression, Llewelyn collected together his men-at-arms, and determined
to revenge himself for the insult he had sustained.
It is not certain when the first acts of hostility took place on the part
of the Welsh or English; but there is no doubt that Edward had for some
time past been pursuing, by various covert measures, the schemes he had
in view. He administered bribes without stint among the mountain chiefs,
and, profiting by long-standing feuds which existed between them, and
which were insidiously fomented, he secured many of them to his side.
Actuated by a feeling of jealousy, David, the brother of Llewelyn, placed
himself among those who gathered round the royal standard, and with him
was Rees-ap-Meredith, the chief or prince of South Wales.
The ground of quarrel which Edward preferred against Llewelyn was that
the latter had refused to obey the summons to appear before the king,
and render homage as one of the vassals of the Crown. On receiving that
summons, Llewelyn replied that his life was in danger from the number
of his enemies, who, in violation of a recent treaty between him and
Edward, had been received at the court. The Welsh prince demanded that
a safe conduct should be granted to him; that ten hostages, chosen from
the English nobility, should be sent as security for his safe return,
and that his bride should immediately be given up to him. Edward refused
these conditions, with the exception of the safe conduct, and it is
evident that he had no real desire that his vassal should withdraw his
refusal. The king's preparations for the intended expedition were now
matured; a large army was ready to take the field, and the Church had
excommunicated the Welsh prince as a traitor to the Crown.
At Easter, 1277, Edward began his march to Wales, and having crossed
the Dee near Chester, he entered Flintshire. A fleet, which had been
dispatched for the purpose, co-operated with him, by cutting off from
Llewelyn all supplies from the Isle of Anglesey. The expedition was well
timed; for when these operations had been effectually carried out, and
the Welsh prince driven to the mountains, the storms of winter aided
the attacks of his enemies. Deprived of food and succour, the condition
of Llewelyn soon became wretched in the extreme, and he was compelled
to submit to such terms of peace as Edward might please to offer. Those
terms were hard indeed. A payment of £50,000 was demanded, together with
the cession of the whole of Llewelyn's territories, except the Isle of
Anglesey, which was also to revert to the crown in case the prince died
without heir male, and for which, during his life, he was to pay a yearly
rent of 1,000 marks. The king afterwards remitted the enormous ransom
demanded; and, had he not done so, it may be questioned whether it would
have been possible to raise so much money throughout Wales. In return for
these concessions of Llewelyn, Edward promised to release Eleanor de
Montfort; but he showed considerable reluctance to fulfil that promise,
and many months elapsed before the Welsh prince obtained his bride.
Edward spared no pains to secure the advantage he had obtained. He
rewarded liberally those among the Welsh chiefs who had supported him,
and bestowed what are called honours upon those traitors to their native
soil. David received the order of knighthood at the king's hands, and
with it the hand of the daughter of the Earl of Ferrers. But when the
Welsh prince had escaped from the influence of the court, and breathed
once more the free air of the hills, he regretted the folly which had
induced him to sell the independence of his country, and to league
himself with its oppressors. Other causes soon operated to increase this
feeling. The English, not content with the large territories they had
conquered, made inroads upon the land secured by treaty to the natives,
cutting down the timber and committing other depredations. If the chiefs
were exasperated by these proceedings, the people were unanimous in
their hatred of their enemies, and in cries for vengeance. Allusion has
been already made to the prophet Merlin, and to the effect exercised
upon his fellow-countrymen by the predictions which bore his name. One
of these, which was now remembered and repeated, was to the effect that
when the English money should become circular, the Prince of Wales should
be crowned in London. Edward had lately ordered a new coinage of round
halfpence and farthings, and had issued a decree forbidding the penny
to be divided into quarters, as had previously been done. The Welsh,
therefore, thought they saw the time arrived to which the prediction
referred, and, interpreting that dark saying according to their own wild
wishes, believed that it foreshadowed nothing less than the subjugation
of the whole island to the countrymen of the prophet.
The impetuous descendants of the ancient Britons scarcely needed such old
stories as these to prompt them to vengeance. David forgot the rewards he
had received at the king's hands, and having effected a reconciliation
with his brother Llewelyn, agreed to act in concert with him. On the 22nd
of March, 1282, David suddenly descended from the Flintshire hills with
a body of troops, and surprised the strong castle of Hawarden. Roger
Clifford, the justiciary, was taken in his bed and made prisoner, and
on the part of the garrison little resistance was made. This success
emboldened the natives, who now rose on all sides to join the standard
of their chiefs. Llewelyn led his men against the castles of Flint and
Rhuddlan, and, though repulsed from these fortresses, he inflicted
great damage upon the English in other places, forcing them from their
strongholds, and often driving them across the borders.
When the news of the insurrection was brought to Edward he refused to
believe it; but it has been supposed that his surprise was rather feigned
than real, and that he was not displeased to have a pretext for another
expedition which should complete his conquest, and place it on a firm
basis. He obtained money by means of a forced loan, levied upon all his
subjects who had money to pay; and having collected an army, he advanced
once more into North Wales, attended, as before, by a fleet. Among his
forces were a large body of pioneers, who opened a passage for the troops
through the woods and marshes, and enabled him to beat back the Welsh as
far as the foot of Snowdon. The accounts which have reached us of this
campaign are very obscure; and it is difficult to trace the successive
encounters between the mountaineers and their assailants. It would
appear, however, that the advantage was by no means all on one side, and
that a pitched battle took place, in which the army of the king was badly
beaten. The fleet of the king had occupied the Isle of Anglesey, whence
the troops directed their offensive operations. A bridge of boats was
laid across the Menai Straits, where now the suspension bridge of Telford
and the iron tube of Stephenson afford a safe and convenient passage.
The Welsh had raised some entrenchments on the mainland, and there they
awaited the expected attack. During the absence of Edward, a body of his
troops crossed over the straits before the bridge was quite completed,
so that they were compelled to wade some distance through the water to
reach the shore. The Welsh made no opposition to their landing, and
even suffered them to approach their works; but meanwhile the tide was
rising, and presently reached a height which rendered it impossible for
the English to gain their boats. While in this position the mountaineers
rushed out upon them and drove them into the sea, where all those who
escaped the sword were speedily engulfed. The loss to the English on
this occasion numbered thirteen knights, seventeen esquires, and several
hundred men-at-arms. Another engagement afterwards took place, at which
Edward himself was defeated, and compelled to flee from the field,
leaving several of his chief nobles among the number of the dead.
These successes caused great joy to Llewelyn and his associates, though
the struggle which they so heroically maintained was, in reality,
hopeless. Fresh troops were constantly arriving to co-operate with the
king, while his numerous fleet offered them protection and support. Among
the reinforcements were some mountaineers of the Basque provinces, well
suited for that mode of warfare, in which agility of limb and rapidity
of motion possessed a decided advantage over the slow operations of the
English troops. The Basques followed the Welsh to their fastnesses,
and there fought them in their own way, usually with the advantage of
numbers. The natives were thus dislodged from their defences, driven from
mountain to mountain, and compelled, inch by inch, to retreat.
But while such was the frequent result of these conflicts, the combined
efforts of the Welsh leaders were attended with the success which has
been described. Llewelyn trusted that the elements to which he owed his
former defeat would now exert an influence in his favour, and that the
rigours of winter would compel the king to quit the country. But Edward
was too able a general to suffer himself to be so defeated. He undertook
more vigorous measures, and while pressing the natives to the utmost with
his own forces, he despatched a second army, which had recently been
collected, into South Wales, for the purpose of attacking the enemy in
the rear. Llewelyn immediately marched to meet this new danger, leaving
his brother David to oppose the king. At Builth, in the valley of the
Wye, the Welsh prince found himself suddenly in the presence of a large
force of English troops, who were encamped on the opposite side of the
river. Llewelyn had advanced in front of his men, and descended a hill to
watch the motions of the enemy. He had entered a barn, either for shelter
or repose, when he was surprised by a party of English who had crossed
the river. Hopeless as the contest was, the prince turned desperately
on his assailants, struck his last blow for home and liberty, and then
fell, pierced through the body by a spear. His head was cut off, and,
by direction of Edward, was sent to London, where it was placed in the
Tower, with a crown of ivy round the brows. This order was given by the
king, in derision of the prophecy of Merlin.
The independence of Wales was buried in the grave of Llewelyn. The
king had, indeed, some further resistance to encounter, but it was
unorganised and soon subdued, as far as active hostilities were
concerned. Many of the native chiefs at once gave in their submission to
the crown, but David maintained his opposition for six months, surrounded
by a few followers, in the fastnesses of the mountains. At length he
was betrayed into his enemies' hands, and was carried in chains to the
castle of Rhuddlan. In the following month Edward brought the case of
the captive before a parliament, hastily and irregularly summoned at
Acton Burnell. That parliament assented obsequiously to whatever the king
described as just and necessary; and, consequently, they condemned the
Welsh prince to be dragged by a horse to the place of execution, because,
after receiving the order of knighthood from the king, he had turned
traitor; to be hanged, because he had caused the murder of the knights in
Hawarden Castle; to have his bowels burned, because he had profaned the
sacredness of Palm Sunday, the day on which the deed was committed; and
to be quartered, and have his limbs hung up in different places, because
he had conspired against the king's life. This shameful sentence was not
only carried into effect, but served for many years as a precedent in
cases of high treason.
[Illustration: LLEWELYN'S LAST FIGHT. (_See p._ 327.)]
Edward now directed his attention to more peaceful measures for
securing his conquest. He remained in Wales during another year, and
occupied himself in enticing the natives as far as possible from
their uncultivated habits, and in prevailing upon them to adopt fixed
residences and English customs. To this end he divided the country into
shires and hundreds, introduced English laws, which were generally
enforced, and took measures for the restoration of tranquillity. He
also gave charters conferring important privileges on some of the Welsh
towns, and amongst others to Rhuddlan, Aberystwith, and Carnarvon. It
happened that Queen Eleanor bore her husband a son in the castle of
Carnarvon, and Edward availed himself of that circumstance for political
purposes. He called together a number of the chief men of the land,
to whom he presented the infant as born among them, and of the same
country. The child, he said, was Welsh, and as such, he should be their
prince. They supposed that a separate government was intended, since the
infant had an elder brother, who undoubtedly was the heir to the English
throne. The ardent nature of the Welsh eagerly caught at this revived
hope of independence, and for some time they appeared to have regarded
their young prince with feelings of loyalty and affection. Before long,
however, the Prince Alphonso, the elder brother, died, and it became
evident that such hopes were illusory. From this time the principality of
Wales became permanently annexed to the crown, and the title of Prince of
Wales was given to the eldest son of the kings of England.
[Illustration: EDWARD PRESENTING HIS INFANT SON TO THE WELSH. (_After the
Picture by Sir John Gilbert, R.A._)]
Edward secured his conquest by fortifying anew the castles of Conway
and Carnarvon, and by building other fortresses, in which he placed
strong garrisons and large stores of provisions. The lands at the foot
of Snowdon he divided among his English barons, who also built castles
and strongholds for purposes of defence. Such measures proved to be
necessary for many years afterwards, for the mountaineers rebelled
against these haughty and tyrannical lords, and showed their hatred by
continued acts of hostility. Cruelty on the one hand was met by bloody
deeds of vengeance on the other, and many of the English nobles sustained
a perpetual siege in the strongholds they had built.
After the subjugation of Wales, four years passed away, during which
Edward pursued no farther his schemes of aggrandisement. Showing little
interest in the internal affairs of his kingdom, he passed over to the
Continent, where his great ability was displayed in the arrangement of
a dispute respecting the island of Sicily, which had arisen between the
Kings of France, Aragon, and the house of Anjou. His award was, however,
repudiated. Meanwhile, the English people murmured at his absence;
the word "government" was associated with the person of the king, and
disorders had been increasing which it was believed his presence would
terminate. Edward found himself compelled to return to his own country,
and soon after he had done so, the course of events in Scotland aroused
his ambition in that direction. It will be necessary briefly to trace the
narrative of Scottish history, from the reign of Malcolm Canmore to the
date at which we have now arrived.
The influence exercised upon the Scottish people by their queen,
Margaret, the sister of Edgar Atheling, was in a high degree beneficial.
The fair Saxon introduced among the fierce subjects of her husband the
softer manners, the religion, and the dawning civilisation of the south.
Malcolm, to whom the name of Canmore (Greathead) was given, a rude and
savage warrior, had conceived for his young bride an affection which knew
no bounds. Ignorant of the truths of Christianity, he was induced to join
in those devotional services which she habitually practised; and from
a human love he learned, as other men have learned, to recognise the
influence of a holier feeling. He could not read her books of prayer, but
he would kiss them humbly to show his veneration for their use. His power
was freely placed in the hands of his young queen, and as freely used by
her in reforming abuses in the Church, and in the introduction of various
arts and accomplishments.
The people were savage and uncultivated, but they were generous,
enthusiastic, and by no means deficient in a sort of rude chivalry. They
had a wild imagination, fed by dark and gloomy traditions. They peopled
the caves, the woods, the rivers, and the mountains with spirits, elves,
giants, and dragons; and are we to wonder that the Scots should at a
very remote period have evinced an enthusiastic admiration for song and
poetry; that the harper was to be found amongst the officers who composed
the personal state of the sovereign; and that the country maintained
a privileged race of wandering minstrels, who eagerly seized on the
prevailing superstitions and romantic legends, and wove them, in rude but
sometimes very expressive versification, into their stories and ballads;
who were welcome guests at the gate of every feudal castle, and fondly
beloved by the great body of the people?
While Margaret was spreading among the people the desire for knowledge,
Malcolm was enlarging his dominions by conquest; and at the death of
this prince (1093) Scotland was, comparatively speaking, a united and
consolidated nation. Then, however, various disorders took place; and
when Alexander, son of Canmore, at length obtained possession of the
throne, the people seemed to have returned to their former condition of
barbarism. In 1124 he was succeeded by his brother David, who, like his
father, was sagacious and brave, an affectionate husband, and a gallant
soldier. David, as the uncle of the Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry
I., considered himself bound to support the title of that princess to the
crown. The battle of Northallerton, already described (_See p._ 171),
resulted in a severe defeat to the Scottish king, chiefly owing to the
insubordination of a portion of his army. David exerted his power for the
improvement of the condition of his subjects; he founded many monastic
establishments, in which the learning of the times was preserved, and the
sons of the nobles received their education.
David was succeeded by his son Malcolm IV. (1153), a brave and energetic
prince, but whose negotiations with England were unfortunate. Henry
II., then in full possession of his power, obtained from the Scottish
king the resumption of a portion of Northumberland, which had been ceded
by Stephen. The more remote parts of his kingdom were consolidated by
Malcolm, who subdued a formidable insurrection among the fierce natives
of Galloway. In the year 1165, Malcolm IV. died, and was succeeded by his
son William, surnamed the Lion. This prince it was who, having been made
prisoner by Henry II., agreed to purchase his liberty by surrendering
the independence of his kingdom. This shameful bargain was rescinded by
Richard Cœur-de-Lion, who restored the relative positions of the two
kingdoms to their former footing. Thus the kingdom of Scotland, properly
so called, was restored to its independence, while the possessions in
Westmoreland, Cumberland, Northumberland, and Lothian continued to be
held by a feudatory title from the English crown.
William was succeeded by his son Alexander II., in 1214. During the
reign of this prince there were few events of importance. He occupied
himself rather with the internal affairs of the country than with schemes
of foreign aggression, and his policy was attended, on the whole, with
favourable results. His son, Alexander III., succeeded to the throne
in 1249, and the peace and prosperity by which nearly the whole of his
reign was distinguished were to be referred in a great measure to the
wisdom and patriotism of his ancestors. As a proof of the advance which
had been made by the nation in power, we are told by Matthew Paris that
at this time the army of the king amounted to 100,000 men and 1,000
well-appointed horsemen. Alexander III. was only nine years of age when
his father died, but in order to prevent foreign interference with the
affairs of the kingdom, the boy was immediately crowned at Scone, and
was knighted by the Bishop of St. Andrews. Two years afterwards the
English king gave his daughter Margaret in marriage to Alexander; and
the nuptials between the two children were celebrated with great pomp at
York, in December, 1251.
The only important danger which threatened Alexander arose from the
attacks of the Norwegians, whose old quarrel with the Scots respecting
the islands of the Hebrides was renewed in this reign. In the summer of
1264, when the young king had just attained to the years of manhood,
Haco, of Norway, a powerful king and a renowned warrior, set sail, at the
head of a numerous force, for the Scottish shores. The Norwegian fleet
arrived in the Frith of Clyde, while Alexander, assembling his troops,
advanced to meet the invaders. A storm arose, by which the foreign
armament sustained considerable damage; and its violence was scarcely
abated when Haco reached the Bay of Largs, near the mouth of the Clyde.
Here he was met and attacked by the Scottish army, which arrived in
successive divisions. A protracted conflict of three days' duration took
place there, and the plain, still covered with cairns and rude monuments
of the slain, bears witness to the bloody and obstinate character of the
struggle. Alexander at length gained a complete victory; the remnant of
the invaders retreated to their ships, and effected their escape to the
islands of Orkney, where the redoubtable Haco died, either from wounds
received in the battle, or from mortification at its result. The victory
of Largs terminated for ever the wars between Scotland and Norway; and,
after a lapse of seventeen years, the two nations cemented their peace by
a marriage between Margaret, the daughter of Alexander, and the youthful
Eric, Haco's successor.
During a period of twenty years succeeding the Norwegian expedition,
we may believe that the kingdom of Scotland enjoyed a condition of
uninterrupted prosperity. The young king governed his people wisely and
well, and undisturbed by enemies from without, he was able to repress the
quarrels of those rival factions of the nobility which for many years had
maintained towards each other a position of active or passive hostility.
But heavy clouds were gathering round the future of this prosperous king,
and at the moment of its greatest glory the royal house of Scotland
was doomed to perish from the land. Margaret of England, the queen of
Alexander, had died in 1275. Besides the daughter, whose marriage had
restored peace to the nation, two sons had been born to him, one of
whom died in childhood. In the year 1283 the Queen of Norway expired,
leaving only an infant daughter, who had also received the loved name of
Margaret. A few months later the prince of Scotland followed his sister
to the grave, and thus the king, while yet in the prime of manhood, was
bereft of wife and children.
Anxious to secure the succession to his granddaughter, who was called the
Maiden of Norway, Alexander summoned a council or parliament at Scone,
and those present bound themselves to accept the Norwegian princess
as their sovereign, in the event of the king dying without issue. In
the hope of obtaining a direct heir, Alexander took for a second wife
Yolande, the daughter of the Count of Dreux. The new queen was young and
very beautiful, but the marriage was described as attended by evil omens,
and the events which followed it might well assist the imagination of the
chroniclers as to the portents they describe. Within a year afterwards
Alexander was riding at nightfall from Kinghorn to Inverkeithing, on the
north shore of the Frith of Forth, when the horse, starting or stumbling,
rolled with him over a precipice. Thus died a prince whom the nation
mourned as the last and worthiest of his line (1285).
The first proceeding of the estates of Scotland was to fulfil their vow
by appointing a regency to exercise the functions of government during
the minority of the infant queen. But it was evident that the succession
of the little Maiden of Norway was scarcely likely to be secured by
such a measure. A female sovereign was new to the people, and the same
prejudice existed against her as that which, in England, had excluded
from the throne the daughter of Henry I. It was therefore scarcely to be
expected that the turbulent chiefs would preserve their allegiance to a
child then in a foreign country, and partly of foreign extraction. It was
not long before one strong party formed the design of placing its chief
upon the throne, to the exclusion of the Maiden of Norway. Robert Bruce
could show some relationship to the royal family, his mother, Isabella,
being one of the daughters of David, Earl of Huntingdon, brother of
William the Lion. This chief, who was supported by many of the Scottish
nobility, held a meeting of his adherents on the 20th of September,
1286. The scene of the assembly was Turnberry Castle, in Ayrshire, the
seat of Bruce's son, Robert Bruce, who had received the title of Earl of
Carrick, in right of his wife. An agreement was entered into, by which
all the persons present bound themselves to adhere to one another on
all occasions, and against all persons, saving their allegiance to the
King of England, and to him who should gain the kingdom of Scotland as
the rightful heir of the late king. There appears little doubt that the
real object of the meeting was to obtain the crown for Bruce, to which
end they would have been willing to secure the assistance of Edward,
by acknowledging him as feudal lord of Scotland. The English monarch,
however, had other designs, which he proceeded to carry into effect.
Edward was the grand-uncle of the Maiden of Norway, and he, with her
father Eric, might therefore be considered her natural guardian. The
latter seems to have interested himself little about her fate; and
neither paternal affection nor schemes of ambition prompted any active
exertions in her cause. But with the English king the case was very
different. Edward was one of the ablest and wisest monarchs of Europe,
and, at the same time, the most powerful, ambitious, and unscrupulous. He
had already succeeded in subduing the free people of Wales: and when the
death of Alexander was made known, he perceived that the time was come
when he might strike a powerful blow at the independence of Scotland. His
first measures for this purpose seem to have been in themselves just and
equitable, and to have been willingly accepted by the northern barons. He
entered into a treaty with the chief nobles of the regency, and proposed
an alliance between his son, the Prince of Wales, and the Maiden of
Norway. The agreement was finally concluded at Salisbury, July, 1290.
Articles were drawn up for securing the independence of Scotland, and
they were solemnly sworn to by the English king. It is matter for doubt
how far such an oath would have been kept had the match taken place, for
it is known that Edward had secured to his own party some of the Scottish
chiefs and, under pretence of guarding the peace of the country, had
obtained possession of many castles and fortified places. But the scheme
of a union between the two kingdoms by marriage was defeated by the early
death of the Maid of Norway, who, having set sail for Britain, fell sick
during the passage and, unable to pursue the voyage, landed on one of the
Orkney Islands, where she expired, in her eighth year.
Edward was thus compelled either to resort to other measures for the
purpose of securing his authority in Scotland, or at once to relinquish
his designs upon that country. It is probable that so ambitious a monarch
did not long hesitate between the two alternatives, and the result of his
deliberations was a communication to his council to the effect that he
"had it in his mind to bring under his dominion the king and kingdom of
Scotland in the same manner that he had subdued the kingdom of Wales."
The pretext on which he founded his pretended right to interfere in the
affairs of Scotland was the claim which he advanced to be lord paramount
of that country--a claim supported by his being in possession of the
castles already alluded to, by virtue of the treaty of marriage between
his son and the Maiden of Norway.
The line of William the Lion having been abruptly cut off, the heir
to the crown would be found among the descendants of David, Earl
of Huntingdon, his younger brother. The earl had one son and three
daughters. The former died without issue; and of the latter, Margaret,
the eldest, was married to Alan, of Galloway; the second, Isabella, to
Robert Bruce; and the third, Ada, to Henry Hastings. The eldest daughter
bore no son to her husband, but her daughter, Devorguilla, married John
Balliol. The issue of this marriage was a son, John Balliol. The Robert
Bruce already named, who in right of his wife was Earl of Carrick, was
the son of Isabella, and John Hastings was the son of Ada. Between the
rival claims of these nobles there could, in our day, be no difficulty
in deciding--the laws of primogeniture clearly awarding the title to
the descendant of the eldest branch. Such, indeed, was the generally
recognised law at the time now referred to; but it was not so clearly
settled as to preclude the possibility of dispute. When, therefore, the
death of the young queen was known, it was doubtful how many claimants
for the throne might present themselves, or how much of disorder and
bloodshed might ensue before the title to the throne had been decided.
The ambition of Edward, and the position he had assumed towards
Scotland, excited the greatest apprehension amongst patriotic men, who
saw misfortune and misrule about to succeed to the prosperity which the
country had lately enjoyed.
[Illustration: NORHAM CASTLE. (_From a Photograph by J. Valentine,
Dundee._)]
Edward, who was invited to decide the complicated question, requested the
barons and the clergy of Scotland to meet him at Norham, a town on the
English side of the Tweed. The summons was obeyed, and a conference took
place on the 10th of May, 1291. Here Edward openly repeated the intention
which he had already stated to his own barons, that he would dispose of
the succession to the Scottish throne as lord paramount of that country,
and he required that the Scots should immediately recognise his title
and authority. It does not appear that the demand excited much surprise
among the assembly, but they were not altogether unanimous in their
assent, and a voice was heard to declare that the request of the king
could only be replied to when the Scottish throne had been filled. Edward
swore by the saints that he would "vindicate his just rights, or perish
in the attempt." The proceedings here terminated, and were renewed on the
following day, only to be further adjourned to the 2nd of June. Edward
then prepared for a warlike demonstration, by sending to his barons in
the northern counties, and requiring them to attend at Norham on the 3rd
of June, with horses and men, as many as they could command.
The scene of the conference of the 2nd of June was a plain called
Holywell Haugh, on the north bank of the Tweed, opposite Norham Castle,
and on Scottish ground. Among the assembly were eight persons who
preferred a claim to the crown, Robert Bruce being at their head. To
him Robert Burnell, the Bishop of Bath and Chancellor of England, put
the question whether he acknowledged King Edward as lord paramount
of Scotland, and whether he was willing to submit to his authority
and receive judgment from him. It is related, and on unquestionable
authority, that Bruce freely and openly declared his assent, and that the
remaining seven competitors followed his example. On the following day,
John Balliol, a powerful chief, appeared, with another claimant of the
title, and these two also assented to the demand.
It would appear that these proceedings had been in a large measure
arranged beforehand. The two great claimants of the crown, Bruce and
Balliol, had divided the major part of the assembled barons into two
factions, each being anxious, before all things, for the success of its
chief, and ready to act implicitly under his directions. It was evident
that if either of the two competitors submitted to the arbitration of
Edward, the other had no resource but to follow his example, since the
power of the English king would otherwise certainly turn the scale.
The absence of Balliol on the first day of the meeting has not been
satisfactorily accounted for, but it is probable that he hung back from
being the first to assent to demands which implied the surrender of the
national independence. If such was his motive, it proves not that he
was more patriotic, but less brave than his opponents, since we find
him ready, without remonstrance, to follow the example which he was
unwilling to offer. Edward appears to have previously determined in
favour of Balliol, whether in consequence of the justice of his claim,
as the descendant of the eldest sister, or from other reasons, cannot
be ascertained. In spite, however, of that determination, he assumed
the appearance of long and anxious deliberation before his judgment was
finally given.
The ambition of Edward was patient and far-seeing. He had no intention
of limiting his authority over Scotland to the barren feudal superiority
which he now claimed; but his ulterior designs were concealed, and
suffered to remain in abeyance until a favourable opportunity should
occur for carrying them into effect. Of those who may be called the minor
claimants to the Scottish crown, nearly all seem to have been brought
forward merely to increase the difficulty of the question, and possibly
that--their secondary right having been established--any of them might
be made use of at a future time, in case of need. The whole tenor of
Edward's conduct, as well as his words, lead us to the conclusion that he
intended to subjugate Scotland, as he had already subjugated Wales, and
that his present proceedings were simply the effect of calculation, as
necessary preliminaries to that end.
The immediate result of the conference at Norham was the appointment
of a number of commissioners, whose nominal duty it was to deliberate
upon the question of the succession, and to examine the claims of the
several competitors. On the 11th of June Edward was formally placed in
possession of the Scottish kingdom, the regents relinquishing their
authority in his favour, and the governors of the castles surrendering
their trusts into his hands, with the reservation that within two months
after the determination of the succession they should be restored to the
sovereign who might be chosen. Robert Bruce, Balliol, and many of the
Scottish chiefs, took the oath of homage to Edward on the 15th of June,
and immediately afterwards the peace of the King of England, as lord
paramount of Scotland, was proclaimed throughout the country.
The commissioners chosen at Norham proceeded to Berwick, and there, on
the 3rd of August, met in council in the king's presence. The number
of candidates, increased by Edward's secret intrigues, now reached to
twelve, and one more was afterwards added, in the person of King Eric of
Norway. The enlarged list of claimants rendered the choice still more
uncertain; but before the time came for the decision, the right of the
descendants of the Earl of Huntingdon was clearly shown, and the rest
of the competitors withdrew from the contest. A year elapsed before the
cause was finally decided. On the 15th of October, 1292, a Parliament
held at Berwick declared in favour of the elder branch of the earl's
family. The commissioners, who had failed to come to an agreement on this
point, had previously resigned their functions. Another meeting was held
in November, at which Edward declared his intention more plainly; and at
length, on the 17th of that month, the king gave his award, at Berwick
Castle, in favour of John Balliol. On doing so, he declared, as he had
previously done at Norham, that the election of a king for Scotland
should not in any way affect Edward's property in that country; thus
reserving to himself still a territorial right in that kingdom. The seal
of the Scottish regents was broken into four pieces, and placed in the
treasury of Edward, in token of the pretended subjection of Scotland.
On the 30th of November Balliol was crowned at Scone, and on the 26th
of December he appeared before Edward at Newcastle, and took the oath
of homage to him. It will be necessary here to suspend our narrative of
Scottish affairs, for the purpose of following the course of events in
England, which had considerable influence on the fortunes of the northern
kingdom.