CHAPTER XXIX.

REIGN OF EDWARD II.

Character of the new King--Piers Gaveston--The King's

Marriage--Gaveston is Dismissed to Ireland--His

Return--Appointment of the Lords Ordainers--Their

Reforms--Gaveston Banished--His Reappearance--Rebellion of

the Nobles and Death of Gaveston--Successes of Bruce in

Scotland--The Battle of Bannockburn--The Establishment of

Scottish Independence--Edward Bruce in Ireland--Power of

Lancaster--The Despensers--They are Banished--Sudden Activity of

the King--Battle of Boroughbridge--The King's Vengeance--Peace

with Scotland--Conspiracies against Edward--Machinations

of the Queen--She Lands in England--Edward is Deserted and

taken Prisoner--Dethronement of Edward--Indignation against

Isabella--Murder of Edward--The Lessons of the Reign--Abolition of

the Templars.

The transition from Edward I. to his son, Edward II., was an abrupt

descent from power to weakness. The great monarch whose proud ambition

it had been to embrace the whole island in his empire, to maintain his

possessions in France, and to rule his kingdom by new and superior

institutions, was gone, and there appeared on the throne a youth of

three-and-twenty, handsome, generous, and agreeable, but destitute of

any trait which implied the elements of future greatness. He was not

even vigorous in the passions which carry youth out of the direct line.

He had no decided tendency to any dangerous vice. He was gentle, and

disposed to enjoy the social advantages of his high position. The people

of all classes and orders hastened to swear fealty to him, arguing, from

the prestige of his parentage, and the reputation of his amiability, a

fortunate reign. But the very first movements of the young king were

fatal to those anticipations, and both at home and abroad brought a

cloud over the brilliant visions which had attended his ascension to the

throne. He was essentially weak, and all weak things seek extraneous

support. The vine and the ivy cling to the tree that is near them, and

the effeminate monarch inevitably seeks the fatal support of favourites.

This was the rock on which Edward's fortunes instantly struck, and the

mischief of which no experience could induce him to repair.

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF EDWARD II.]

This disastrous propensity to favouritism, which early manifested itself,

had excited the alarm of the stern old king, and led him to take decided

measures against the evils which it threatened to produce. There was a

brave Gascon knight, who had served in the army of Edward I. with high

honour, and whose son, Piers Gaveston, had consequently been admitted

into the establishment of the young prince. This youth was remarkably

handsome and accomplished. He was possessed of singular grace of carriage

and elegance of demeanour. In all the exercises of the age, both martial

and social, he excelled, and was full of the sprightly sallies of wit

and mirth which are so natural to the Gascon. The young prince became

thoroughly fascinated by him. He was naturally disposed to strong and

confidential friendship, and gave himself up to the society of this

gay young courtier with all the ardour of youth. His father, quickly

perceiving this extravagant prepossession, and foreseeing all its fatal

consequences, had banished the favourite from the kingdom. On his

death-bed he again solemnly warned him against favourites, depicting to

him the certain ruin that such foolish attachments would bring upon him

in the midst of powerful and jealous nobles; and forbade him, on pain of

his curse, ever to recall Gaveston to England.

But no sooner was the breath out of the old king's body than the

infatuated Edward forgot every solemn injunction laid upon him. The

Scots were again strong in the field, and the late king had taken an

oath from his son that he should never be buried till they were once

more subjugated. But regardless of this, the young king, after making a

feint of prosecuting the Scottish war, and marching as far as Cumnock,

on the borders of Ayrshire, there halted, and retraced his steps to

London without attempting anything whatever. Arriving in London, he at

once buried the body of his father in Westminster Abbey, on the 27th of

October.

[Illustration: EDWARD II.]

The only thing for which he appeared impatient was the return of his

favourite Gaveston, whom he had recalled the moment the sceptre fell

into his hands; and the royal summons was as promptly complied with.

Gaveston joined his royal patron before he returned from Scotland. The

earldom of Cornwall had been conferred on him before his arrival; and

the thoughtless upstart appeared in the midst of the court covered with

his new honours, and disposed to show his resentment for past disdain to

the most powerful men in the kingdom. Under the ascendancy of Gaveston,

the king displaced all his father's old and experienced ministers. There

was a revolution in the great offices of the court, as sudden as it was

complete. The chancellor, the treasurer, the lords of the exchequer, the

judges, and every other holder of an important post, were dismissed,

and others more suited to the fancy or partiality of this favourite

substituted. To his own share of honours and emoluments there appeared no

limit. The earldom of Cornwall had been held by Edmund, son of Richard,

King of the Romans, and was an appanage which had not only been possessed

by a prince of the blood, but was amply sufficient of itself for the

maintenance of one. But this seemed little to the king for the man whom

he delighted to honour. He was continually lavishing gifts and riches

on Gaveston. He handed to him the treasure which his father had laid

up for the prosecution of the crusades; he presented him with estate

after estate, many of them conferring fresh titles of distinction; and

it was said that you could scarcely travel into any part of the kingdom

without beholding splendid houses and parks, formerly possessed by great

families, now conferred on this young favourite. Nor did the royal bounty

stop here. The king gave him extensive grants of land in Guienne; and,

as if he would raise him to a par with royalty itself, he married him

to his own niece, Margaret de Clare, sister to the Earl of Gloucester,

and appointed him lord chamberlain. All this did not seem to satisfy the

king's desire of heaping honours and wealth upon him; and he is reported

to have said that, if it were possible, he would give him the kingdom

itself.

It would have been strange if the favourite, under such a rain of favour

and fortune, had displayed more wisdom than his royal patron. It would

have required a mind of peculiar fortitude and moderation not to have

been thrown off the balance by such a rush of greatness, and Gaveston

was not of that character. He was gay, vain, and volatile, and rejoiced

in the opportunity of humbling and insulting all who had real claims to

superiority over himself. The great and proud nobles who had surrounded

the throne of Edward I. in the midst of its victorious splendour, and

who had contributed by their counsels and their swords to place it above

all others in Europe, naturally beheld with ill-concealed resentment

this unworthy concentration of the royal grace and munificence in one

so far inferior to them in birth and merit; and Gaveston, instead

of endeavouring to appease that indignation, did all in his power

to exasperate it by every species of ostentation and parade of his

advantages. Vanity, profusion, and rapacity of fresh acquisition all

united in him. He kept up the style and establishment of a prince; he

treated the gravest officers of state and the possessors of the noblest

names with studied insolence. He imagined that in possessing the favour

of the king nothing could again shake him, and therefore he was as little

solicitous to conciliate friends as he was careless to make enemies. At

every joust and tournament he gloried in foiling the greatest of the

English nobility and princes, and did not spare them in their defeat, but

ridiculed them to his companions with jest and sarcasm. This could not

last long without combining both court and kingdom for his destruction,

and perhaps for his master's.

The young king was bound by the laws of feudalism to pass over to France,

and do homage to Philip for his province of Guienne, and by those of

chivalry, to fulfil, as early as possible, the contract of marriage

with the Princess Isabella, to whom he had been long affianced. She

was reputed to be the most beautiful woman of her time, and she was as

high-spirited and intriguing as she was handsome. The royal couple were

married on the 28th of January, 1308, with much pomp and ceremony, in

the church of Our Lady of Boulogne, five kings and three queens being

present on the occasion. No great affection appears to have existed on

either side. Isabella could not fail to be already aware of her husband's

character, and she is said to have trusted to her influence to overturn

the king's favour for Gaveston, and to be able to rule him and the

kingdom herself. Edward, though wedded to the loveliest woman of the age,

and surrounded by every species of festivity and rejoicing, evinced, on

his part, no other desire than to get back as speedily as possible to his

beloved Gaveston, to whom, in his absence, he had left the management

of the kingdom--a fresh indignity to his own royal kinsmen. The festive

gaieties of the French court were suddenly broken off to gratify this

impatient anxiety of the king to return, and the royal couple embarked

for England, accompanied by a numerous retinue of French nobles, who came

to attend the coronation.

Gaveston, accompanied by a great array of the English aristocracy,

hastened to meet the king and queen on landing; and the scene which

ensued was by no means calculated to create respect for the king, either

in the mind of his young bride, or of her distinguished countrymen

present. Forgetting the very presence of the queen, Edward rushed into

the arms of his favourite and overwhelmed him with caresses and terms

of endearment. The queen looked on with evident contempt; her kinsmen

with open disgust. The nobles were filled with indignation, which

Gaveston, instead of endeavouring to disarm by more modest conduct,

appeared to take a particular pleasure in aggravating to the extreme.

He appeared in the greatest splendour of attire, and in his equipage

and retinue outshining them all. In the tournaments which succeeded the

coronation he challenged, and by his indisputable vigour and address

succeeded in unhorsing, the four most illustrious nobles of the land--men

distinguished not only for their high rank, their great estates,

and high connections, but as the successful leaders of the national

armies--the Earls of Lancaster, Hereford, Pembroke, and Warrenne. This

brought matters to a crisis. The anger of the whole nobility now burst

forth beyond all bounds. The barons, four days after the coronation,

appeared before the king with a petition, which had rather the tone

of a remonstrance, and insisted that he should instantly banish Piers

Gaveston. The king, hesitating, and yet alarmed, replied that he would

give them an answer in Parliament.

When this Parliament met, it appeared fully armed, and with an air that

menaced civil war, if its terms were not complied with. Lancaster, by

far the most powerful subject in England, was the centre and head of

this movement. He was first prince of the blood, possessed of immense

estates, which were on the eve, by his marriage with the heiress of

the Earl of Lincoln, of being increased to no less than six earldoms,

including all those powers, and jurisdictions which in that age were

attached to land, and made the great noble a species of king on his

own estates and over a large number of influential vassals, many of

them being what were called lesser barons and knights. Lancaster was

turbulent, ambitious, and haughty. He had received the deadliest affronts

from Gaveston which a man of his proud character could possibly receive

from an upstart, and he therefore hated him with a deadly hatred. This

feeling was actively encouraged by the queen, who, herself inclined to

rule, and having hoped to indulge easily this passion for power through

the weakness of the king, saw with keen resentment her plans disappointed

by the all-engrossing influence of the favourite. The rest of the barons,

gladly gathering round Lancaster, and taking courage from the favouring

disposition of the queen, resolved to crush the reigning parasite. They

bound themselves by an oath to expel him from the kingdom. With his

Parliament in this temper, and disturbances and robberies in various

parts of the kingdom--possibly fomented by the barons, or at least left

unrestrained, as strengthening their cause--the king was compelled to

submit to their demands; and the bishops bound Gaveston by a solemn oath

never again to return to the kingdom under pain of excommunication.

The poor weak king, though he gave up his favourite for the time, still

showed his folly to all the world. He endeavoured to soften the fall of

Gaveston by accompanying him on his way towards the port. But instead

of this port leading towards his own country, it proved to be Bristol,

where it was soon discovered that he had only embarked for Ireland, over

which Edward had appointed him Lord-Lieutenant, with an establishment

rivalling that of a king. Not only so, but before his departure the

infatuated monarch had actually bestowed fresh wealth and lands upon him

both in England and Gascony. Gaveston, who really possessed much talent

and learning, and might have made a distinguished and useful man had he

been employed by an able monarch, who would have called out his better,

and kept in check his worse, qualities, discharged his duties in Ireland

as governor with vigour, repressed a rebellion there, and promoted order.

But during the year he was absent his royal master was inconsolable, and

never ceased labouring for his return. To this end he employed every

means to conciliate the barons. He conferred on Lancaster the high office

of Hereditary Steward; he flattered and promoted the Earl of Lincoln, the

father-in-law of Lancaster; he heaped grants, civilities, and promises

on Earl Warrenne. Having thus prepared the way, he next applied for and

obtained from the Pope a dispensation for Gaveston from that oath which

the barons had imposed, that he should for ever abjure the realm. With

this he instantly recalled Gaveston from Ireland, and flew with joyful

impatience to Chester to meet him on his way. Then, on seeing him, he

rushed into his arms with every extravagance of joy. He next applied to

the Parliament, which had assembled at Stamford, for a formal permission

to his re-establishment in England, and, won over by the gifts and

flatteries of the king, they were equally weak, and allowed him to return.

All now in the court of the imbecile monarch was rejoicing and festivity.

That court was filled by every species of mimes, players, musicians, and

frivolous hangers-on. Scotland was all but lost; every day Bruce and his

adherents, taking advantage of the neglect of this unhappy king, were

coming forth more and more openly from their hiding-places, seizing fort

after fort, and even daring to make devastating inroads into the northern

shires of England. In other parts of the kingdom outrages, disorder,

and violence abounded; but nothing could rouse the wretched king, or

withdraw his attention from the court, which was filled with revelry and

feasting, and the centre and soul of which was his beloved Gaveston. The

people looked on and openly expressed their contempt for the favourite.

They refused to call him anything but simply "that Piers Gaveston,"

which incensing the foolish man induced him to prevail on the king to

put forth a proclamation commanding all men to give him his title of

Earl of Cornwall whensoever he was spoken of, which had only the effect

of covering him with ridicule. The past experience was entirely lost on

this thoughtless personage. No sooner was he freed from the consequences

of his insults to the barons and courtiers than he repeated them with

fresh modes of offence. He laughed at and caricatured them amongst his

worthless associates. He threw his jibes and sarcasms right and left,

and let them fall with the vilest nicknames on the loftiest heads. The

great Earl of Lancaster was the "old hog," and the "stage-player;" the

Earl of Pembroke--a tall man, of pale aspect--was "Joseph the Jew,"

the Earl of Gloucester was "the cuckold's bird;" and the stern Earl of

Warwick "the black dog of Arden." Dearly did the vain favourite rue these

galling epithets. The "black dog of Arden" swore a bitter oath that the

miscreant should feel his teeth. The queen, more and more disgusted and

incensed by the folly of the king, not only complained querulously to her

father the King of France, but gave all encouragement to the angry nobles

against the insolent Gaveston.

[Illustration: PIERS GAVESTON AND THE BARONS. (_See p._ 367.)]

The riot at court had its necessary consequence--the dissipation of the

royal funds and the need of more. The barons already, before voting

supplies, had several times obliged the king to promise a redress of

grievances. But now, on being summoned in October, 1309, three months

after Gaveston's return, to meet at York, they refused, alleging fear

of the all-powerful and vindictive favourite. The necessities of Edward

made him imperatively renew the summons, but the barons still refused to

assemble, and the object of the general odium was compelled to retire for

the time. The barons then came together at Westminster in March of the

following year, 1310; but they came fully armed, and Edward found himself

completely in their power. They now insisted that he should sign a

commission, enabling the Parliament to appoint twelve persons, who should

take the name of Ordainers, having power thoroughly to reform both the

government and the king's household. They were to enact ordinances for

this purpose, which should for ever have the force of laws, and which, in

truth, involved the whole authority of the Crown and Parliament.

[Illustration: PIERS GAVESTON BEFORE THE EARL OF WARWICK. (_See p._ 370.)]

The committee, instead, however, of being confined to twelve, was

extended to twenty-eight persons--seven bishops, eight earls, and

thirteen barons. These powerful men were authorised to form associations

amongst themselves and their friends to enforce the strict observance

of their ordinances; and all this was said to be for the glory of God,

the security of the Church, and the honour and advantage of the king and

kingdom.

Thus had the imbecility of the second Edward reduced the nation to the

yoke of a baronial and ecclesiastical oligarchy. This suspicious junto,

however, conscious that they would be regarded with a jealous eye by the

nation, voluntarily signed a declaration that they owed these concessions

to the king's free grace; that they should not be drawn into a precedent,

nor allowed to trench on the royal prerogative; and that the functions

and power of the Ordainers should expire at Michaelmas in the year

following.

The committee sat in London, and in the ensuing year, 1311, presented

their ordinances to the king and Parliament. Some of these ordinances

were not only constitutional, but highly requisite, and tending to the

due administration of the laws. They required sheriffs to be men of

substance and standing; abolished the mischievous practice of issuing

privy seals for the suspension of justice; restrained the practice of

purveyance, where, under pretence of the king's service, enormous rapine

and abuse were carried on; prohibited the alteration and debasement of

the coin; made it illegal for foreigners to farm the revenues, ordering

regular payment of taxes into the exchequer; revoked all the late

grants of the crown--thus aiming a direct blow at the chief favourite,

on whom the crown property had been most shamefully wasted. But the

main grievance to the king was the sweeping ordinance against all evil

counsellors, by which not only Piers Gaveston, but the whole tribe of

sycophants and parasites were removed from their offices by name, and

persons more agreeable to the barons were put in their places. It was,

moreover, decreed that for the future all considerable offices, not

only of the law, the revenue, and the military, but of the household

also--an especial and immemorial royal privilege--should be under the

appointment of the baronage. Still further, the power of making war, or

even of assembling his military tenants, should no longer be exercised

by the king, without the consent of his nobility. This was a wholesale

suppression of the prerogatives of the crown, which the barons dared not

have attempted in any ordinary reign; but this would probably have little

affected Edward had not Piers Gaveston been declared a public enemy, and

banished from the realm, on pain of death in case of his ever daring to

return.

Nothing can show more decisively that Edward was not merely weak as

regarded his favourite, but was totally unfit to rule a kingdom, having

no serious feeling of its rights, or desire of its prosperity, than the

fact that he signed all these deeply important decrees with a secret

protest against them, meaning to break them on the first opportunity; and

that he sent Gaveston away to Flanders, intending as soon as possible to

recall him. The moment he was freed from the demands of Parliament, he

set out to the north of England, pretending a campaign against the Scots.

Once at liberty, he recalled Gaveston, declared his punishment quite

illegal, restored him to his honours, employments, and estates, and the

two dear friends continued at Berwick, and on the Scottish borders, doing

nothing to resist the advances of Bruce.

The barons now broke all measures of restraint. Provoked to exasperation

by seeing the whole of their labours at once set aside, and the favourite

restored to his fortune in defiance of them, they united in a most

formidable conspiracy. At the head of it appeared Gaveston's old enemy

Lancaster; Guy, Earl of Warwick, "the black dog of Arden," entered

into the alliance, according to one historian's expression, with "a

furious and precipitate passion." Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford, the

constable, the Earl of Pembroke, and even the Earl Warrenne, who hitherto

had supported, on most occasions, the royal cause, now joined zealously

in the confederacy. Winchelsey, Archbishop of Canterbury, led on the

clergy, who declared themselves in a body against the king and Gaveston.

Such a coalition was able, at that time, to shake the throne itself.

Lancaster, at the head of an army marched to York, whence the king

precipitately retreated to Newcastle. The former made a keen pursuit, and

Edward had only just time to get on board a vessel at Tynemouth, and

escape to Scarborough with his minion. There Edward left him to defend

the castle, while he again set out for York to endeavour to raise a

body of troops. Aylmer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, whom Gaveston had

ridiculed as "Joseph the Jew," laid brisk siege to the castle, which was

in bad condition, and Gaveston, on the 19th of May, 1312, was obliged to

capitulate. Both Pembroke and Lord Henry Percy pledged themselves that

no harm should happen to him, and that he should be confined in his own

castle of Wallingford. But, with all the boasts of chivalry, no great

faith was to be reposed in such promises in those times, and they marched

him away to the castle of Dedington, near Banbury, where Pembroke, on

pretence of meeting his countess somewhere in the neighbourhood, left

him under a feeble guard. Pembroke, who was under oath, having thus on

plausible grounds retired, Warwick, "the black dog of Arden," who had

vowed to show Gaveston his teeth, now appeared upon the scene. He made a

show of attacking the castle; the garrison refused to defend it--no doubt

being well informed of the part they were to play--and in the morning

the unhappy favourite was ordered suddenly to dress and descend into the

court. There he found himself, to his consternation, in the presence of

the grim and vengeful Warwick, accompanied by a strong force. By his

orders he was set on a mule and led to Warwick Castle with great triumph.

His arrival there was announced by a burst of military music; great were

the acclamations and triumph at seeing the long-detested favourite thus

overwhelmed. A council was speedily formed, at which Lancaster, Hereford,

Arundel, and other barons assisted. Some one ventured to propose gentle

measures, and to shed no blood, but a voice exclaimed, "You have caught

the fox; if you let him go, you will have to hunt him again." That hint

decided Gaveston's fate. The certainty that the king would on the first

possible occasion reinstate his favourite, and that their own lives

might fall before his vengeance, determined them to put him to death, in

disgraceful violation of the articles of capitulation, but in accordance

with the ordinance passed by Parliament for his exile. Gaveston now

stooped from his haughty insolence at the approach of death, and prayed

for mercy from the Earl of Lancaster. It was useless; his enemies

hurried him away on the road towards Coventry, and there, at a mile or

more distant from the castle, on the 1st of July, 1312, they struck off

his head on a rising ground called Blacklow Hill, where the Avon winds

through a pleasant scene, suggestive of anything but such a tragedy.

The king, as was to be expected, was thrown into violent grief at the

news of the bloody death of his beloved friend. He roused himself to

something like energy; vowed deadly vengeance on all concerned, and

proceeded to raise and march troops for the purpose. The barons stood in

arms to receive him, and for the remainder of the year they maintained

a hostile attitude, but fought no battle. The king's resentment, as

evanescent as his better purposes, then gave way; the barons consented to

solicit his pardon on their knees; and this pretended humility flattered

him into compliance. The plate and jewels of Gaveston were surrendered

into his hands, and he was implored to confirm their deeds by proclaiming

the late favourite a traitor. Here, however, Edward stood firm; he not

only refused, but declined also to confirm the ordinances they had

passed. But they had accomplished the grand object of destroying the

hated favourite, and therefore were the more willing not to press the

king too closely on other points. All classes in the nation now began to

cherish hopes that they might be led to chastise the Scots, and to win

back, if possible, the brilliant conquests of Edward I.

For seven years the feeble and inglorious Edward II. had now suffered the

loss of his great father's acquisitions in Scotland, and the reverses

and disgraces of the English arms to remain unavenged. Occupied with

the society of his favourite, the effeminate pleasures of the court,

and the consequent contentions with his barons, he had allowed Bruce to

proceed, with all the activity and resources of a great mind, to reassure

the people of Scotland, retake the castles and forts, and strengthen

himself against attack. Bruce had gradually risen from a condition the

most perilous and enfeebled to one of considerable strength. His soldiers

now held every stronghold except that of Stirling; and the governor of

this fortress, by the permission of Bruce himself, appeared in London

to inform the king that he had stipulated that if the castle were not

relieved by the feast of St. John the Baptist (the 24th of June) it

should be surrendered.

Thus the reign of this weak monarch was the rescue of Scotland. Had not

this spiritless king interposed between two such monarchs as the First

and Third Edward, it is difficult to suppose that Scotland could have

maintained its independence. But, with the golden opportunity of an

incompetent enemy, Providence had also sent Scotland one of the greatest

men which it ever produced. Robert Bruce, driven to seek refuge in the

most inaccessible wilds and mountains during the dominion of Edward

I., and even pursued there by some of his own countrymen, such as the

Lord of Lorn, and the relatives of the Red Comyn, no sooner saw the

incapable ruler who had succeeded the "Hammer of Scotland," as Edward

I. is styled on his tomb in Westminster Abbey, than he seized every

favourable opportunity for regaining the castles and strongholds from the

English. As fast as he mastered them he laid them in ruins, for he could

not afford garrisons to defend them, and he knew that the feeling of the

country was with him.

Thus at last it came to pass that the English had only the castle of

Stirling left in all Scotland; and Sir Philip Mowbray, after a brave

defence, had agreed to deliver that up if not relieved by a certain day.

He had, as we have said, arrived in London with this message. Perhaps

even such a message as this, full of national disgrace, might not have

moved Edward out of his epicurean listlessness, but it aroused the

nobles. They exclaimed unanimously that it would be an eternal shame thus

to let the conquest of Edward I. fall out of their hands without a blow.

It was therefore resolved that the king should lead an army to the rescue.

A royal summons was issued for all the military force of England to meet

the king at Berwick on the 11th of June, 1314. The most warlike of the

British subjects from the French provinces were called forth; troops were

enlisted in Flanders; the Irish and Welsh were tempted in great numbers

to Edward's standard by hopes of plunder; and altogether an army of not

less than 100,000 men, including 40,000 cavalry--3,000 of whom, men and

horse, were clad in complete armour--assembled. A large fleet attended to

act in concert with the army; and at the head of this mighty force the

king took his way towards Edinburgh, advancing along the east coast, and

thence along the right bank of the Forth to Stirling.

Robert Bruce, who had been lying before Stirling awaiting the result of

Sir Philip Mowbray's mission to London, now saw that the fate of the

kingdom must be decided on or near that spot. His army was much inferior

to the English one in numbers, amounting to between 30,000 and 40,000

men. But then they were tried troops, fighting for the very existence of

their country, and under such leaders as Robert Bruce, Randolph, and

Douglas--men whom they had followed into exploits almost miraculous. The

English army was far better armed and provided, except in one particular,

and that the most essential of all--a commander. Instead of being led by

a man of courage, experience, and sagacity, they had a timid, effeminate

puppet; and when so much depended on the commander-in-chief--even more

than at the present day--that single circumstance was fatal.

Bruce made preparations for the decisive struggle with his usual ability.

He had collected his forces in the forest called Torwood; but as he knew

the superiority of the English, not merely in numbers, but in their

heavy-armed cavalry (far better mounted and equipped than his own) and

in their archers (the very best in the world), he determined to provide

against these advantages. He therefore led his army into a plain on the

south side of Stirling, called the New Park, close beneath which the

English army would be obliged to pass through a swampy country broken up

with watercourses, while the Scots stood on firm, dry ground. With this

morass in front, and the deep, woody, and broken banks of the little

rivulet of Bannockburn on his right, so rocky that no troops could pass

them, he took care to secure the more assailable ground on his left by

digging a great number of pits, about knee-deep, which he covered with

brushwood, and over that with turf, so as to look like solid grassy

ground. In these pits he is said by some writers to have fixed pointed

stakes. The whole ground, says Barbour, the poetical chronicler, was like

a honeycomb with the holes. Besides this, Bruce sought to disable the

English cavalry by sowing the front of the battle-field with those cruel,

four-pointed steel spikes called caltrops and crow-feet, which lamed and

disabled the horses which trod upon them.

[Illustration: THE BORE-STONE, BANNOCKBURN, IN WHICH BRUCE PLANTED HIS

STANDARD.]

Bruce then divided his forces into four divisions. Of these he gave the

command of the right wing, flanked by the Bannockburn, to his brother

Edward; of the left, near Stirling, to Randolph, who was posted near

the church of St. Ninians, and had orders at all risks to prevent the

English from throwing succours into the city; Sir James Douglas and

Walter the Steward commanded the centre; and Bruce headed the reserve in

the rear, consisting of the men of Argyll, the islanders, and his own

vassals of Carrick.

Douglas and Sir Robert Keith, mareschal of the Scottish army, were

dispatched by King Robert to take a view of the English forces, now

approaching from Falkirk. They returned saying the vast host approaching

was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights imaginable; that the

whole country appeared covered with moving troops; and that the number

of banners, pennons, standards, flags, all of different kinds, made so

gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous army in Christendom

might be alarmed to behold it coming against them. It was Sunday, and

Barbour describes it as so bright that the armour of the English troops

made the country seem all on fire. Never had England sent forth a more

magnificent host, and never did one approach the battle-field with more

imposing aspect; but the Lion-heart of the army, the terrible "Hammer of

Scotland," was no longer there.

As the army drew in sight, Edward sent forward Lord Clifford with 800

horse to endeavour to gain the castle by a circuitous route, hidden

by rising grounds from Bruce's left wing. They had already passed

the Scottish line when Bruce was the first to descry them. "See,

Randolph," he cried, riding up to him, "there is a rose fallen from

your chaplet--you have suffered the enemy to pass!" Randolph made no

reply, but rushed upon Clifford with little more than half his number.

The English wheeled round to charge and to encompass the little band

of Scots, but Randolph drew them up back to back, and they defended

themselves valiantly. Douglas, who saw the perilous position of Randolph,

asked to be allowed to ride up to his relief. "No," replied the king,

"let Randolph redeem his own fault." But the danger became so imminent

that Douglas exclaimed, "So please you, my liege, I must aid Randolph;

I cannot stand idle and see him perish." He therefore rode off with a

strong detachment, but seeing, as he drew near, that the English were

giving way, he cried, "Halt! Randolph has gained the day: let us not

lessen his glory by approaching the field." A noble sentiment, for

Randolph and Douglas were always striving which should rise the highest

in the nation.

[Illustration: BANNOCKBURN: BRUCE REVIEWING HIS TROOPS BEFORE THE BATTLE.

(_See p._ 374.)]

Meanwhile the van of the English army approached the front of the

Scottish host; and they beheld King Robert mounted on a small palfrey

instead of his great war-horse, for he did not expect the battle that

evening. He was riding up and down the ranks of his men, putting them

in order, with a steel battle-axe in his hand, and a helmet on his head

surmounted with a crown of gold. Some of the bravest knights of the

English army rode out in front, to see what the Scots were doing; and

Bruce also advanced a little before his own men to take a nearer view of

them. Sir Henry Bohun, an English knight, mounted on a heavy war-horse,

armed at all points, thought this an excellent opportunity to earn

renown, and put an end to the war at a stroke, by killing Robert Bruce.

He therefore charged furiously upon him, trusting with his lance to bear

him to the ground, poorly mounted as he was. King Robert awaited him with

the most profound composure; and, as he drew near, suddenly turned his

pony aside, so that Bohun missed him with the point of his lance, and was

in the act of being carried past him by his horse. Robert Bruce, rising

in his stirrups as the knight was passing, dealt him such a blow on the

head with his battle-axe that it broke to pieces his iron helmet as if

it had been a nutshell, and hurled him dead to the ground. The English

knights, astonished at the act, retired to the main body; and King

Robert's friends blamed him for exposing himself and the safety of the

army to such risks: but he himself only continued to look at his weapon,

saying, "I have broken my good battle-axe."

The next morning the battle began in terrible earnest. The English, as

they approached, saw the Abbot of Inchaffray walking barefoot through

the Scottish ranks, and exhorting the soldiers to fight bravely for

their freedom. As he passed they knelt and prayed for victory. King

Edward, seeing this, cried out, "See! they kneel down; they are asking

forgiveness!" "Yes," replied the bold Baron Ingelram de Umfraville; "but

they ask it of God, not of us; these men will conquer or die upon the

field."

The main body of the army, under the conduct of the king himself,

advanced in a long, dense column upon the Scottish line; but they failed

to break it by the shock, and repeated renewals of the charge told more

sensibly on the assailants than on the assailed. The English were broken

at every fresh collision; the Scots stood like a range of rocks. Every

part of the Scottish army was brought into play, while the majority of

the English never came in contact with the enemy. The brave Randolph

led up the left wing to the support of the assaulted centre, till he

appeared surrounded and lost in an ocean of foes. On the other hand,

the Earls of Hereford and Gloucester made a fierce charge of cavalry on

the right wing, commanded by Edward Bruce, but were received by those

treacherous pitfalls, in which their horses were overthrown in confusion,

and the riders, falling in their heavy armour, were unable to extricate

themselves. Dreadful then was the slaughter; and amongst the rest

Gloucester, the king's nephew, not wearing his armorial bearings, and

not, therefore, being recognised, was cut to pieces in the _mêlée_.

The English archers poured their arrows thick as hail upon the main

body, and might, as at Falkirk, have decided the day; but Bruce, having

calculated on this, sent Sir Robert Keith, the mareschal, with a small

body of horse, to take them in flank; and as the archers had no weapons

for close quarters, the Scottish horsemen, dashing headlong among them,

cut them down in great numbers, and threw them into total confusion.

Meanwhile Douglas and the Steward encouraged their men in the centre

by their valiant deeds and the confidence in their great fame, and the

battle became general along the whole Scottish line. The moment in which

Bruce saw that his detachment of horse had disordered the archers, he

advanced with his reserve, and the whole Scottish front pressed upon the

already hesitating English. At this critical moment an event occurred

which decided the victory. Bruce had posted the servants and attendants

of the Scottish camp behind a hill in the rear of the army. Some writers

give him credit for planning what took place, and assert that he had

furnished them with banners, to represent a second army. Others, and

amongst them Sir Walter Scott, attribute the appearance of these men to

chance rather than design. It is supposed they saw that their army was

gaining on the foe, and were therefore eager for a share of the booty.

Be this as it may, suddenly the English noticed a body of men coming

over the hill, ever since called the Gillies', or Servants' Hill, from

this circumstance. Imagining this to be a fresh army, they at once lost

heart and broke, while Bruce, raising his war-cry, rushed with new fury

against the failing ranks. The king was the first to put spurs to his

horse and flee. A valiant knight, Sir Giles d'Argentine, who had won

great renown in Palestine, assisted the king out of the press; but he

then turned saying, "It is not my custom to fly"--a keen reproof to the

cowardly monarch, if he could have felt anything but fear--and dashing,

with the cry of "Argentine! Argentine!" into the thickest of the Scottish

ranks, was killed.

The fugitive king fled to the gates of Stirling Castle, and entreated

admittance; but the brave Sir Philip Mowbray reminding him that he was

pledged to surrender the castle if it were not relieved that very day,

Edward was obliged to go on through the Torwood. Douglas was already

pressing hotly after him; and meeting with Sir Lawrence Abernethy--a

Scottish knight hitherto in the English interest, and even now on his way

to the English army--he carried the not unwilling knight and his twenty

horsemen along with him. Douglas and Abernethy pursued the king at full

gallop, and never ceased the chase till they reached Dunbar, sixty miles

off, where Edward narrowly escaped into the castle, still held by an

English ally, Patrick, Earl of March. Thence the king escaped by a small

fishing skiff to England, leaving a great part of his splendid army to

destruction. Fifty thousand of the English were said to have been killed

or taken prisoners, and the remnant of the army was pursued as far as

Berwick, ninety miles distant. Of those who fell there were twenty-seven

barons and bannerets, including Gloucester, a prince of the blood, 200

knights, 700 esquires, and 30,000 of inferior rank. Twenty-two barons

and bannerets were taken, and sixty knights; and an English historian

has asserted that if the chariots, baggage wagons, &c., that were taken,

loaded with military stores and booty, had been drawn out in single line,

they would have reached sixty leagues. Besides this, the ransom of so

many distinguished men was a grand source of wealth to the victorious

army. The losses of the Scots were comparatively trivial, Sir William

Vipont and Sir William Ross being the only persons of note slain.

Such was the decisive battle of Bannockburn, which has ever since been

celebrated in song and story as one of the proudest triumphs in Scottish

history. It at once established the independence of Scotland. "The

English," says Sir Walter Scott, "never before or afterwards, whether in

France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battle as that of Bannockburn,

nor did the Scots ever gain one of the same importance." Bruce was at

once elevated from the condition of an exile, hunted by his enemies with

bloodhounds like a beast of the chase, and placed firmly on the throne of

his native land--one of the wisest and bravest kings who ever sat there.

The moral effect of this battle was almost magical. Stirling Castle was

at once surrendered, according to stipulation. Bothwell Castle, in which

the Earl of Hereford had shut himself up, soon after yielded to Edward

Bruce, and Hereford was exchanged for the wife, sister, and daughter of

the King of Scots, who had been detained eight years in England, as well

as for the Bishop of Glasgow and the Earl of Mar. The triumphant Scots

marched into England, ravaged Northumberland, levied tribute on Durham,

wasted the country to the very gates of York, and going westward, reached

Appleby in Westmoreland, whence they returned home laden with spoil. The

English became thoroughly demoralised by their overthrow, and numbers

fled at the approach of the merest handful of Scots. "O day of vengeance

and of misfortune!" says the monk of Malmesbury; "day of disgrace and

perdition! unworthy to be included in the circle of the year, which

tarnished the fame of England and enriched the Scots with the plunder

of the precious stuffs of our nation to the extent of £200,000"--nearly

three millions of our money.

Encouraged by this panic, the Scots made fresh incursions that autumn

and the following summer, but received, ultimately, some checks at

Carlisle and Berwick. But, perhaps, more than from this, the security of

England was purchased by the ill-fortune of Ireland; for in May, 1315,

the Irish, taking also advantage of the reverses of England, invited

Edward Bruce to come over, drive out the English, and become their king.

Edward Bruce caught at the offer with avidity, for he was fond of battle

and adventure, and ambitious of fame and power. He was brave but rash.

He took over 6,000 men, and was joined by several of the Irish chiefs

on landing at Carrickfergus. The Scots fought with various success,

and penetrated far into Ireland. In the following spring, Edward Bruce

was crowned King of Ireland in Ulster, and Robert Bruce also went over

to support his claim with fresh forces, making the Scottish army about

20,000 men. For another year the two brothers continued their adventure,

marching on Dublin, to which the citizens set fire, and laid waste the

suburbs, so that the invaders were obliged to move on. They marched

south in hope of receiving co-operation from the Irish of Munster and

Connaught, but were disappointed, and involved in imminent danger from

an English army of 30,000 men at Kilkenny.

[Illustration: THE AULD BRIG, STIRLING.]

The English, meantime, seized the opportunity of the absence of the

King of Scots, and made fresh inroads into Scotland. This compelled

his speedy return, when, in March, 1318, he made himself master of

Berwick, and revenged himself on the English by again marching into their

northern counties, taking the castles of Wark, Harbottle, and Mitford in

Northumberland; and in a second raid in Yorkshire burning Northallerton,

Boroughbridge, Scarborough, and Skipton, besides levying 1,000 marks on

Ripon, and carrying off much booty. But ill-fortune soon overtook his

brother Edward in Ireland, where he had left him. He engaged Sir John de

Birmingham at Fagher, near Dundalk, and was left dead on the field, with

2,000 of his soldiers. The efforts of the Scots for three years to erect

a kingdom in Ireland thus vanished for ever, leaving scarcely a trace.

Birmingham presented the head of Edward Bruce to the King of England, who

made him, in recompense, Earl of Louth.

These reverses of the Scots excited Edward of Carnarvon to one more

effort for the recovery of Scotland. He assembled a numerous force,

and besieged Berwick on the 7th of September, 1319, both by sea and

land. It made a vigorous resistance; and Randolph and Douglas, to

create a diversion, invaded the western marches with a force of 15,000

men. They made a push for York, to secure the queen, but failed. They

then committed dreadful ravages in Yorkshire, and were encountered by

an undisciplined mob, led on by the Archbishop of York and the Bishop

of Ely. This rude assemblage they routed at Mitton, on the Swale, and

slew about 4,000, chiefly peasants, but amongst them 300 churchmen with

surplices over their armour; whence this battle, in allusion to so many

shaven crowns in it, was called the Chapter of Mitton. Edward at length

raised the siege of Berwick, and marched to intercept the Scots, but

not before they had burnt and destroyed eighty-four towns and villages,

and done incredible damage. On the approach of the king, they warily

withdrew, and finished their successful raid by a truce for two years.

Such had been the fortune in war of the son of one of the greatest

commanders that the English ever saw on the throne; such was the

condition to which the weakness and cowardice of Edward II. had reduced

the kingdom. The Scots insulted and harassed him on one side, the Welsh

on the other; and the haughty barons, taking advantage of his fallen

fortunes, sought to raise their own power on the ruins of the throne.

They came forward again boldly with their ordinances, and Edward was

compelled to submit to them. Lancaster was set at the head of the

council, and introduced a totally new set of officers of the crown. The

government offices they declared should be filled from time to time

by the votes of Parliament--that is, of the barons. So far from these

new rulers endeavouring to expel or humble the Scots, it was believed

that Lancaster was in secret alliance with them; and this afterwards

was proved to be true. Acting this traitorous part, Lancaster pretended

to keep up a hostile show against the Scots, but he took care that all

attempts against them should fail.

Edward was clearly totally unfit to govern a kingdom. He had not

the ability to conduct the affairs of peace or war; and he was of

that unhappy character of mind which never derives any benefit from

experience. The misery which he had brought upon himself by his foolish

fondness for Gaveston, and the destruction brought upon the favourite

himself, had not the smallest effect in preventing the king from

again falling into the same error. Soon after the death of Gaveston

he conceived the same singular and indomitable attachment to Hugh le

Despenser, or Spenser, a young man of ancient descent, and in the

service of the Earl of Lancaster, who, in his change of office, had

placed him about the court. This second fatal attachment involved the

remainder of the reign of Edward in perpetual strife and trouble, and

precipitated his terrible end.

[Illustration: HALFPENNY OF EDWARD II.]

[Illustration: PENNY OF EDWARD II.]

This young Despenser, the new favourite, had all the graces of person and

the accomplishments which had bewitched the king in Gaveston, but he had

the advantages which never belonged to the Gascon--those of birth, rank,

and connection. His father was a noble of ability and experience, highly

esteemed for his wisdom, bravery, and integrity through his past life.

But these things availed nothing with the indignant barons, who suddenly

saw the young man and his father advanced over their heads. They withdrew

sullenly from court and Parliament, and sought an opportunity to make

their resentment felt by both the king and his minions. This opportunity,

with a monarch like Edward, could not be long wanting. He began the same

reckless course of heaping honours and estates on the younger Spenser.

As he had married Gaveston to his own niece, sister to the Earl of

Gloucester, he now repeated the very act as nearly as circumstances

would permit him, and married Spenser to the sister and one of the

co-heirs of the late Earl of Gloucester, who was killed at Bannockburn.

He thus put him, in his wife's right, in possession of vast estates,

including the county of Glamorgan, and part of the Welsh marches. The

father also obtained great possessions, for, in spite of his reputation

for wisdom, his sudden advancement to such large opportunity appeared

to have awakened in him a boundless rapacity. The king immediately

followed up these gifts by seizing, at the instigation of young Spenser,

on the barony of Gower, left to John de Mowbray, on the plea that it

had reverted to the crown through Mowbray's neglect of feudal usage on

entering into possession. This was exactly the sort of occasion for which

the barons were on the watch: the whole marches were in flame, civil war

was afoot. The Earls of Lancaster and Hereford flew to arms. Audley, the

two Rogers de Mortimer, Roger de Clifford, and many others, disgusted,

for private reasons, with the Spensers, joined them. The lords of the

marches sent a message to the king, demanding the instant banishment

or imprisonment of the young favourite, threatening to renounce their

allegiance and to punish the minister themselves. Scarcely waiting for an

answer, they fell on the lands of both the Spensers, pillaged and wasted

their estates, murdered their servants, drove away their cattle, and

burned down their castles. Lancaster having joined them, with thirty-four

barons and a host of vassals, this formidable force marched to St.

Albans. Having bound themselves not to lay down their arms till they

had driven the two Spensers from the kingdom, they sent a united demand

to the king for this object. Edward assumed constitutional grounds for

his objection to this demand. The two Spensers were absent--the father

abroad, the son at sea; and the king declared that he was restrained

by his coronation oath from violating the laws and condemning persons

unheard. Timid at the head of an army, Edward was always bold in defence

of his favourites. These pretences weighed little with men with arms in

their hands. They marched on London, occupied the suburbs of Holborn and

Clerkenwell, and, a Parliament having assembled at Westminster, these

armed remonstrants delivered to it a charge against the two Spensers of

usurping the royal powers, of alienating the mind of the king from his

nobles, of exacting fines, and appointing ignorant judges. By menaces and

violence they carried their point, obtaining a sentence of attainder and

perpetual banishment against the two obnoxious courtiers. This sentence

was pronounced by the barons alone, for the commons were not even

consulted, and the bishops protested against so illegal a proceeding.

The only evidence which these turbulent barons gave of their remembrance

of the laws was in requiring from the king a deed of indemnity for their

conduct; and having got this, they disbanded their army, and retired,

highly delighted with their success, and in perfect security, as they

imagined, to their castles.

But they had in reality been too successful. The force put upon the

authority of the king was so outrageous, and it reduced all respect

for it to so low an ebb, that the barons and knights in their own

neighbourhoods became totally regardless of public decorum towards the

royal family. Even the queen, who had always endeavoured to live on good

terms with the barons, and who detested the young Spenser as cordially

as they did, could not escape insult. Passing the castle of Leeds, in

reality a crown property, but in the keeping of the Lord of Badlesmere,

she desired to spend the night there, but admittance was refused her; and

some of her attendants, insisting on their royal mistress being admitted

to what might be called her own house, were forcibly repulsed and killed.

The queen instantly complained, with all her quick sense of indignity,

to the king; and Edward thought that now he had a splendid opportunity

of vengeance on his haughty barons. He for once assumed courage, and

displayed a spirit which, if it had been permanent and uniform, would

have made him and kept him master of his throne and prerogatives. He

assembled an army, fell on Badlesmere, took him prisoner, and inflicted

severe chastisement on his followers. The insult to the queen had

excited the indignation of the people against the barons, and completely

justified the proceedings of the king. Thus suddenly finding himself on

the high tide of public approbation, he at once declared the acts of the

barons void, and contrary to the tenor of the Great Charter. He showed

surprising activity in collecting forces and calling out friends in

different parts of the kingdom. He recalled the two Spensers. They had

only been banished in the month of August; in October they were again

on English ground. The king marched down upon the quarters of the lords

of the marches, who were thus suddenly taken unawares, while isolated

in fancied security, and incapable of resistance. He seized and hanged

twelve knights of that party. Many of the barons endeavoured to appease

him by submission, but their castles were taken possession of, and their

persons imprisoned.

Lancaster, alarmed for his safety, hastened northward, and now openly

avowed his league with Scotland which had been so long suspected, and

called on the Scots for help. This was promised him under the command of

the two great champions of Scotland--Randolph, now Earl of Moray, and the

Douglas. But these not arriving, Lancaster set out on his march, and was

joined by the Earl of Hereford and all his forces. Their army, however,

did not equal that of the king, which numbered 30,000 men.

Lancaster and Hereford posted themselves at Burton-upon-Trent, hoping to

keep back the royal forces by obstructing the passage over the bridge;

but in this they failed, and hastily retreated northwards, hoping daily

for the arrival of the promised aid from Scotland. At Boroughbridge, on

the 16th of March, 1322, they were intercepted by a force under Sir Simon

Ward and Sir Andrew Harclay, who occupied the bridge and the opposite

banks of the river. In fear of the pursuit of the king's army, the two

barons endeavoured to force the bridge, but were stoutly repulsed;

Hereford was killed, and Lancaster, who in his terror had lost all power

of commanding his troops, was seized and conducted to the king.

No greater contrast could be exhibited by two commanders than was shown

on this occasion by Hereford and Lancaster. Hereford, determined to

force the bridge, charged on foot; but a Welshman, who had discovered

that the bridge was in a very decayed state, and full of holes, had

concealed himself under it, and through one of these holes he thrust

a spear into the bowels of the brave earl, who fell dead on the spot.

Lancaster attempted to find a ford over the river, but the archers of

the enemy poured in showers of arrows upon him. Night put a stop to the

battle, and in the morning he was taken. Lancaster had in his day a

great reputation for piety. "He was," says Froissart, "a wise man and a

holy; and he did afterwards many fine miracles on the spot where he was

beheaded." Hume has painted this nobleman as violent, turbulent, and

hypocritical; and attributes his reputation for piety to the monks, whom

he favoured, and who were his historians. But there is nothing in his

public conduct which may not assume the character of patriotism, for he

fell as he had lived, in endeavouring to resist the mischievous practices

of the king in regard to his favourites. He was a prince of the blood,

and, by his position and the rights of the Charter, bound to support the

constitution which the king was continually violating in his unbounded

partiality for his minions. In conformity with his character, Lancaster,

on being surrounded, retired into a chapel, and, looking on the holy

cross, said, "Good Lord, I surrender myself to Thee, and put me into Thy

mercy." He had no mercy to expect from Edward, who, remembering too well

the indignities which his beloved Gaveston had received at the hands of

the earl and his associates at his execution, now resolved to have ample

revenge.

About a month after the battle, he convoked a court martial at the earl's

own castle of Pontefract, where he himself presided, and where, as a

traitor, having made league with Scotland against his rightful sovereign,

Lancaster was condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. He was

clothed in mean attire, set upon a sorry jade of a horse, with a hood

upon his head, and in this manner he was led to execution on a hill near

the castle, the king's officers heaping all kinds of insults upon him,

and the populace, whom he had incensed by calling in the Scots, pelting

him with mud, and pursuing him with outcries and curses. In his life and

death Lancaster bore a striking resemblance to the Earl of Leicester, the

leader of the barons in the reign of Henry III.

Besides the two leaders of this revolt, five knights and three esquires

were killed in the battle, and fourteen bannerets and fourteen knights

bachelors were hanged, drawn, and quartered. Amongst those who were

executed were Badlesmere--who had insulted the queen,--Gifford, Barnet,

Cheney, and Fleming. Many were thrown into prison, and others escaped

beyond the sea. "Never," says an old writer, "did English earth at

one time drink so much blood of her nobles, in so vile a manner shed

as this." But not only was this vengeance taken on the persons of the

insurgents: their vast estates were forfeited to the crown, and the

people soon beheld, with inexpressible indignation, the greater portion

of these immense demesnes seized upon by the younger Spenser, whose

rapacity was insatiable. In a Parliament held at York, the attainder of

the Despensers was reversed, the father was created Earl of Winchester,

and both he and his son enriched by the lands of the fallen nobles.

Edward was as totally uncured of his folly as ever. Harclay, for

his services, received the earldom of Carlisle and a large estate,

which he soon again forfeited, as well as his life, for a treasonable

correspondence with the Scots. But the rest of the barons of the royal

party, receiving little, were the more incensed at the immense spoils

heaped on the Spensers. The king's enemies, on the other hand, vowed

vengeance on both monarch and favourite, whom the people regarded with

more determined envy and hatred than ever.

Thus Edward, falling the moment that he was successful into his

hopeless failing of favouritism, not only lost every advantage he

had so completely gained, but hastened by it the day of retribution.

The nobles who had escaped to France, there set on foot a dangerous

conspiracy. Amongst these was the younger Roger Mortimer, one of the

most powerful barons of the Welsh marches, who had been twice condemned

for high treason but, receiving a pardon for his life, was detained in

the Tower, where his captivity was intended to be life-long. Making his

guards drunk with a drugged liquor, he escaped, and now joined these

conspirators, all smarting from their sufferings on account of the

favourite, and many of them from his usurpation of their castles and

lands.

Everything favoured these conspirators. At home, the young Spenser, as

little instructed by past dangers as his master, seemed to grow every

day more arrogant; and an expedition against the Scots, like all the

expeditions of this king against that people, proving a failure--followed

by the usual inroads of the Scots, in one of which they nearly took the

king prisoner, and in which they wasted the country to the very walls

of York--created deep discontent and national irritation. Sensible of

the lowering aspect of things in France, Edward, at length, after a war

of three-and-twenty years, fruitful in disaster and ruin, now concluded

a peace with Scotland for thirteen years. In this truce he did not

recognise the title of Robert Bruce to the crown; but Bruce, who had made

good his claim to it, who had repelled all the attacks of England on his

country, given the enemy a great overthrow at Bannockburn, and on various

occasions carried the war into England, satisfied himself with these

substantial advantages.

Fortified on this side, Edward still did not sit secure. Soon after

the treaty he was startled by a plot to cut off the elder Spenser, and

then by an attempt to release the prisoners taken at Boroughbridge from

their dungeons. This failed, but the conspiracy in France grew, and

circumstances favoured it. Charles the Fair, the brother of Edward's

queen, now on the throne, having, or pretending, causes of complaint

against Edward's officers in the province of Guienne, overran that

province with his arms, and took many of the castles. Edward apologised

and offered to refer the causes of quarrel to the Pope; but Charles

took advantage of his brother-in-law's difficulties, and endeavoured

to deprive him of his French territories altogether. Edward sent out

his brother, the Earl of Kent, to endeavour to negotiate matters, but

without effect; and Isabella, who had long wished to quit the kingdom,

now prevailed on the king to let her go over and arrange the business

with her brother. Edward fell into the snare: the queen found herself

in Paris, and the centre of a powerful band of British malcontents. One

common principle animated the queen and the refugees of the Lancaster

faction, and bound them together--hatred of the Spensers. The queen

had come attended by a splendid retinue--for she came not only as

Queen of England and Princess of France, but in the character of an

ambassador. Publicly, therefore, she was received with every honour;

and, publicly, she appeared to be negotiating for a settlement of her

royal husband's difficulties; but as the mode of solving them, she

conceded that he should come over in person and do homage for his

provinces. This proposal, which astonished both the king and the whole

court, was strenuously resisted by the younger Spenser. He well knew

the feelings entertained by the queen towards him; and therefore would,

on no account, trust himself in Paris with her. But to allow the king

to proceed there alone was as full of danger. The king might there fall

under the influence of some other person; and at home his own position

would be most perilous during the king's absence, regarded as he was with

universal hatred.

The king had advanced as far as Dover, where, no doubt, at the persuasion

of the Spensers, he stopped, and, on the plea of illness, declined to

proceed any farther. Foiled in this scheme, Isabella hit upon another,

which was that Edward should make over Guienne and Ponthieu to his son,

who then could go instead of his father, and perform the requisite

homage. This was more easily fallen into by the king, because it suited

young Spenser by keeping the king at home. Edward resigned Guienne and

Ponthieu to his son, now thirteen years old, who went over, did the

homage, and took up his residence with his mother.

The plot now began to unfold itself palpably. The queen was not only

surrounded by a powerful body of English subjects hostile to their king,

but she had the heir to the throne in her possession, and she determined

never to return to England till she could drive young Spenser thence,

and seize the reins of power herself. When, therefore, the homage being

completed, Edward urged the return of his wife and son, he received at

first evasive answers, which were soon followed by the foulest charges

against him by his own queen. She complained that Hugh Spenser had

alienated the king's affection from her; that he had sown continual

discord between them; had brought the king to such a feeling against

her, that he would neither see her nor come where she was. She accused

the Spensers of seizing her dower and keeping her in a state of abject

poverty and dependence, and, beyond all this, of having a design on the

lives of both herself and son. The king put forth a defence of himself,

but nothing could clear him from the charge of having grossly neglected

the queen for his favourites, or of having most thoroughly merited her

contempt and aversion.

But while the queen was doing the utmost to disgrace and ruin her

husband, her own conduct was notoriously scandalous. During the life of

the Earl of Lancaster she appears to have leaned very much on him for

counsel and support; but now the Lord Mortimer was become the head of

the Lancastrian party, and therefore necessarily was thrown daily into

her society. Mortimer was handsome, brave, of insinuating address, and

sufficiently unprincipled. The affairs of the party brought them into

almost perpetual contact, and intimacy speedily ripened into intrigue

and criminality. Very soon the position of the queen and Mortimer was

generally known. They lived in the most avowed intimacy, and when Edward,

made aware of it, insisted on Isabella's immediate return, she declared

boldly that she would never set foot in England till Spenser was for ever

removed from the royal presence and counsels. This public avowal won

her instant popularity in England, where Spenser was hated, and threw

for awhile a slight veil over her own designs. An active correspondence

was opened with the discontented in England; the vilest calumnies were

propagated everywhere against the king, and this disgraceful family

quarrel became the common topic of all Europe.

The King of France, from motives of policy, declared himself highly

incensed against Edward for his treatment of his sister, and even

threatened to redress her wrongs. He still protected her, even after her

open connection with Mortimer, though both himself and his two brothers

had thrown their wives into prison for irregularity of conduct, where

the wife of his brother Louis had been strangled. But though Charles

probably never seriously intended to take any active measures on behalf

of Isabella, Edward was greatly alarmed, and not only sent, in the name

of Spenser, rich presents to the French king and his ministers, but also

wrote to the Pope, earnestly imploring him to command Charles to restore

to him his wife and son. This letter to the Pope was strongly backed,

according to Froissart, "by much gold and silver to several cardinals and

prelates nearest to the Pope." The interference of his holiness afforded

a sufficient plea for Charles to withdraw all countenance from Isabella,

and even to command her to quit the kingdom. To save appearances,

therefore, Isabella quitted Paris, and betook herself to the court of

the Count of Holland and Hainault. That this was a step by no means

disagreeable to Charles the Fair is obvious from the fact that the count

was his own vassal, and suffered no remonstrance for this reception of

the English queen. The partisanship of the count was of the most decided

kind. The queen, the more indissolubly to engage him in her enterprise,

affianced her son Edward, the heir to the English throne, to Philippa,

his second daughter. The brother of the count, John of Hainault, became

a perfect enthusiast in the cause of Isabella, who, still young--only

eight-and-twenty years of age--and eminently beautiful, seemed to inspire

him with all the chivalrous devotion of the most romantic ages. He

declared his full faith in Isabella's innocence of all impropriety, with

the spectacle of her intimacy with Mortimer daily before his eyes; and he

was deaf to all warnings of danger from the jealousies of the English,

who, he was assured, were especially disgusted by the interference of

foreigners. By this alliance, and the secret assistance of her brother,

the King of France, Isabella soon saw herself surrounded by an army of

nearly 3,000 men.

[Illustration: ESCAPE OF ROGER MORTIMER FROM THE TOWER. (_See p._ 379.)]

Edward, roused by the imminent danger, endeavoured to prepare measures

of defence. But the danger was far more extensive than appeared on the

surface. Conspiracy did not merely menace from abroad, but penetrated

every day deeper, and into the very recesses of his own family. His

brother, the Earl of Kent, a well-meaning but weak prince, who still

remained on the Continent, was persuaded by Isabella and the King of

France that it behoved every member of the royal family to join in the

attempt to rid the kingdom of the Spensers; and this, they assured him,

was the object of the expedition. Won over to what appeared so desirable

an attempt, he also won over his elder brother, the Earl of Norfolk. The

Earl of Leicester, the brother and heir of the Earl of Lancaster, had

abundant motives of interest and vengeance for entering into the design.

The Archbishop of Canterbury and many of the prelates approved of the

queen's cause, and aided her with money; several of the most powerful

barons were ready to embrace it on her appearance on the English coast;

and the minds of the populace were embittered against the king by the

industrious dissemination of calumnies and injurious truths.

Isabella set sail from the harbour of Dort with her little army,

accompanied by the Earl of Kent; and on the 24th of September, 1326,

landed at Orwell, in Suffolk. She was soon joined by the Earls of

Norfolk and Leicester, thus receiving the high sanction of two princes

of the blood; the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, and Hereford met her with the

sanction of the Church and numerous forces. The fleet had been won over

and kept out of the way, and the land forces sent against her at once

hailed the young prince with acclamations, and joined the Queen's banner.

Isabella made a proclamation that she came to free the nation from the

tyranny of the Spensers and of Chancellor Baldock, their creature. The

barons, who thought themselves secure from forfeiture in coalition with

the prince, made a reconciliation with the barons of the Lancastrian

faction, and the people poured in on all sides. Never was a miserable

monarch so deserted by his people, and by his own blood. His wife, his

son, his brothers, his nobles, his prelates, his people, all were against

him. The queen and prince stayed three days in the abbey of the Black

Monks at Bury St. Edmunds, where their partisans continually increased.

Meantime, the wretched king appealed to the citizens of London to

maintain the royal cause, and issued a proclamation offering £1,000 to

any one for the head of Mortimer--a pretty sum, equal to £10,000 at

the present day. The appeal remained totally unheeded; and Edward fled

from his capital, accompanied only by the two Spensers, Baldock, the

chancellor, and a few of their retainers. Scarcely were they out of the

gates when the populace rose, seized the Bishop of Exeter, whom the king

had appointed governor, beheaded him, and threw his body into the river.

They met with and killed a friend of the favourites--one John le Marshal.

They made themselves masters of the Tower, and liberated all the State

prisoners--a numerous body, most of them suffering for the attempts to

put down young Spenser--and then entered into an association to put to

death without mercy every one who dared to oppose the queen and prince.

Such was the fury of the populace against the king and his favourite; and

this spirit appeared in every part of the kingdom.

The poor forsaken king fled to the Welsh, amongst whom he was born; but

they would none of him, and he was compelled to take to the sea with

his favourite. The elder Spenser was left in Bristol as governor of the

castle; but the garrison mutinied against him, and on the approach of the

queen he was delivered up to her. The poor old man, now nearly ninety,

was brought before Sir William Trussel, one of the Lancastrian exiles,

who, without allowing him to utter a word in his defence, condemned him

to death. He was taken outside the walls of the city and hanged on a

gibbet, his bowels were torn out, and his body was cut to pieces, and

thrown to the dogs; and, as he had been made Earl of Winchester, his head

was sent to that city, and stuck on a pole. Such was the fate of this old

man, who had borne a high character through a long life, till strange

fortune lifted him aloft, and developed in him the lurking demons of

rapacity and lust of his neighbour's goods.

The unhappy king, meantime, with the son of this old man, endeavouring,

it was supposed, to escape to Ireland, had been tossed about for many

days on a stormy sea, which seemed to enter into the rebellion of his

people, and to reject him and cast him up, as it were, on the coast of

South Wales. His flight had furnished the barons with a fortunate plea

for deposing him. They first issued a proclamation at Bristol, calling on

the king to return to his proper post; and, as he did not appear, on the

26th of September, forming themselves into a Parliament, they declared

that the king had left the realm without a ruler, and appointed the

Prince of Wales guardian of the kingdom. The king, on landing, knowing

what he had to expect, hid himself for some weeks in the mountains near

Neath Abbey, in Glamorganshire. His place of retreat was very soon known,

and young Spenser and Baldock were seized in the woods of Llantressan,

and immediately afterwards Edward came forth and surrendered himself to

the Earl of Leicester, the brother of Lancaster, whom he had beheaded at

Pontefract. Without a single sign of sympathy or commiseration from high

or low, the wholly-abandoned king was sent off a prisoner to Kenilworth.

Short and bloody work was made with the favourite. Trussel, the same

judge who had condemned his father, condemned him to be drawn, hanged,

disembowelled, beheaded, and quartered; and the sentence was carried into

execution with revolting minuteness. He was hanged on a gallows fifty

feet high, and his servant, Simon Reding, was hanged on the same gallows,

only a few yards lower. The Earl of Arundel, allied to the Spensers by

marriage, and one of those active in the death of the Earl of Lancaster,

was beheaded with two other noblemen. Baldock, as a priest, was exempt

from the gallows; but, being sent to the Bishop of Hereford's palace in

London, he was there seized by the enraged populace, as, probably, the

senders foresaw, and, though rescued, died soon after in Newgate of his

injuries. So terminated the fortunes of Edward's few adherents. His own

fate, steeped in still deeper horrors, was fast hastening on.

A Parliament--one of those solemn mockeries which we often see in

history--was summoned in the king's name to meet at Westminster on the

7th of January, 1327, to condemn the king himself. There Adam Orleton,

Bishop of Hereford, one of the most violent partisans of the queen and

a bitter enemy of the king, assumed the office of speaker. The very

appearance of such a speaker indicated--had all other circumstances been

wanting--the determination of the barons to proceed to extremities with

Edward. Orleton, for his attachment to the party of Lancaster, had been

deprived of the temporalities of his see by the king, at the instance, as

supposed, of Hugh Spenser, and he had on every possible occasion since

displayed the most vindictive animus against the king. He had spread with

indefatigable activity the filth of the Court scandal respecting Edward,

and this might have passed for religious zeal in one of his profession

and rank in the Church had he not winked as resolutely at the notorious

vice of the queen. But he was one of her most energetic partisans in

England; he hastened to meet her on landing; and in the Parliament, and

everywhere amongst the barons, when it had been proposed to allow the

king to be reconciled to his family, and rule by advice of his nobles, he

had effectually quashed such sentiments, and turned the tide of opinion

for the king's deposition. He now put the formal question, whether the

king should be restored, or his son at once be raised to the throne. For

appearance' sake the members were left to deliberate in their own minds

on the question till the next day; but there could be only one answer,

and that was for the father's dethronement. The public, on hearing that

decision, broke forth into loudest acclamations, which were vehemently

reiterated when the young king, a boy of fourteen, was presented to them.

By a singular informality, Parliament deposed Edward first, and judged

him afterwards.

Five days after declaring the accession of Edward III., a charge was

drawn up against his father, in which some eminent historians discern

the malice of his enemies rather than impartial grounds of complaint.

They say that, notwithstanding the violence of his opponents, no

particular cause was laid to his charge. True, those which were loudly

enough proclaimed by the public voice to be of a scandalous nature were

omitted, probably out of respect to his son, who was present during the

whole proceedings. But what they did charge him with were incapacity

for government, waste of time on idle amusements, neglect of business,

cowardice, being perpetually under the influence of evil counsellors, of

having by imbecility lost Scotland and part of Guienne, with arbitrary

and unconstitutional imprisonment, ruin, and death of different nobles.

Surely these, if not all crimes, had all the effect of crimes on the

nation. They were fraught with mischief, public discord, and decay, and

must be regarded as affording ample grounds for deposition. In fact,

the whole kingdom was weary of the incorrigible king; not a single

voice was raised in his behalf, and on the 20th of January a deputation

was despatched to announce his deposition to him at Kenilworth. This

deputation consisted of certain bishops, earls, and barons, with two

knights from each shire, and two representatives from each borough. The

most glaring feature of harshness in the selection of the deputies was

that the spiteful Adam Orleton, and the savage Sir William Trussel, who

had passed such barbarous sentences on Edward's friends the Spensers,

were amongst its leading members. At sight of Orleton the king was so

shocked that he fell to the ground. The interview took place in the great

hall of Kenilworth, and the king appeared wrapped in a common black gown.

Sir William Trussel, as speaker, pronounced the judgment of Parliament,

and Sir Thomas Blount, the steward of the household, then broke his white

staff of office, and declared all persons discharged and freed from

Edward's service, the ceremony being the same as practised on a king's

death. On the 24th King Edward III. was proclaimed, it being declared to

be by the full consent of the late king; on the 28th the young monarch

received the great seal from the chancellor, and re-delivered it to

him; and on the 29th he was crowned at Westminster by the Archbishop of

Canterbury.

The extreme youth of the king enabled Queen Isabella, his mother, to

have the chief power of the crown vested in her. But her unconcealed

connection with the Lord Mortimer made her very soon lose the popularity

which her pretence of driving away the Spensers had obtained her. Both

barons and people looked with ill-suppressed jealousy and disgust at the

dangerous position of Mortimer; and however completely the late king

had forfeited public favour, it was not long before the people began to

feel that it was not the part of a wife to have invaded the kingdom, and

deposed and pursued to death her husband and the father of her children.

Isabella had indeed pretended to lament over this necessity, and to

bewail the afflictions of her husband; but her actions belied her words

and tears, for she still pressed on his abdication, and was all the time

living in open adultery with her paramour Mortimer. Thus public feeling

and indignation grew apace, and there were not wanting monks who boldly

denounced from the pulpit the scandalous life of the queen, and awoke a

feeling of commiseration for her captive husband. Those who beheld the

proud Mortimer actually occupying, in the name of the queen, the seat of

royal power, burned with not unnatural wrath at the degradation of the

throne; those who saw the unfortunate Edward, gentle and depressed in

his fallen fortunes, became touched with compassion for him. The Earl

of Leicester, now Earl of Lancaster, though he had a brother's blood in

his remembrance, could not help being affected with generous and kindly

sentiments towards his prisoner, and was even suspected of entertaining

more honourable intentions towards him.

These things were whispered to Isabella, and the king was speedily

removed into the care of Sir John Maltravers, a man of a savage

disposition, and embittered against the king by injuries received from

him and his favourites. Maltravers appeared to study the concealment of

his captive, removing him from time to time from one castle to another

in the space of a few months. At length Lord Berkeley was added to the

commission of custody, and the unhappy captive was lodged in Berkeley

Castle, near the river Severn. While Lord Berkeley was there Edward

was treated with the courtesy due to his rank and to his misfortunes;

but that nobleman being detained at his manor of Bradley by sickness,

the opportunity was taken to leave the dethroned king in the hands of

two hardened and desperate ruffians, named Gournay and Ogle. These men

appeared to take a brutal delight in tormenting him. They practised upon

him daily every indignity which they could devise. It is stated that one

day, when Edward was to be shaved, they ordered cold and filthy water

from the castle ditch for that purpose; and when he desired it to be

changed, they refused it with mockery, though the unfortunate prince

burst into tears, and declared that he would have clean and warm water.

These modes of killing were, however, too slow for those who wanted to

be secure from any popular revulsion of feeling in favour of the deposed

monarch; and one night, the 21st of September, 1327, frightful shrieks

were heard from the castle, and the next morning the gates were thrown

open, and the people were freely admitted to see the body of the late

king, who, it was said, had died suddenly in the night. Of the nature of

that disease there was no doubt on the minds of any one, for the cries

of the sufferer's agony had reached even to the town, waking up, says

Holinshed, "numbers, who prayed heartily to God to receive his soul,

for they understood by those cries what the matter meant." The murder

of Edward of Carnarvon is one of the horrors of history. The fiends who

had him in custody, it came out, had thrown him upon a bed, and held him

down violently with a table, while they had thrust a red-hot iron into

his bowels through a tin pipe. By this means there appeared no outward

cause of death; but his countenance was distorted and horrible to look

upon. Most of the nobles and gentlemen of the neighbourhood went to see

the body, which was then privately conveyed to Gloucester, and buried in

the abbey, without any inquiry or investigation whatever.

Edward, at the time of his murder, was forty-three years old. He had

reigned nineteen years and a half, and spent about nine months in woful

captivity after his deposition.

Maltravers, Gournay, and Ogle were held in universal detestation. Gournay

was some years afterwards caught at Marseilles, and shipped for England;

but was beheaded at sea, as was supposed, by order of some of the nobles

and prelates in England, to prevent any damaging disclosures regarding

their accomplices or abettors. Maltravers found means of doing service to

Edward III., and eventually obtained a pardon.

[Illustration: BERKELEY CASTLE.]

This reign presents a melancholy example of the miseries which befell a

nation in those days from a weak king. In those rude times the throne

was not fenced about and supported by the maxims and institutions which

now-a-days enable very ordinary kings to fill their high post without

any public inconvenience, and verify the observation of the celebrated

Swedish chancellor, Oxenstierna, "See, my son, with how little sense

a kingdom may be governed." In the time of Edward II. the convenient

maxim had not been introduced that "the king can do no wrong." The

monarch stood alone amid a race of powerful and ambitious barons, who

were always ready to encroach on the throne, and could be restrained

only by a strong hand. The king had not, as he has now, his council and

his ministers to share his responsibilities, and to afford him the help

of their united talents and advice. He acted more fully from his own

individual views and, therefore, the consequences to the nation were the

more directly good or evil as the king was wise or the reverse. In Edward

II.'s reign the arms of the nation were disgraced, its hold on Scotland

and France was weakened, and there was a vast amount of internal discord

and civil bloodshed. We do not find those great enactments of laws which

distinguished the reign of his father, and the estates of the crown were

wasted on unworthy favourites. Yet, even in this reign the people gained

something, as they have always done, from the necessities of kings. The

barons, by the ordinances which they wrung from the weak hands of Edward,

extended the privileges of Parliament, and circumscribed the power of the

Crown. They decreed that all grants made without consent of Parliament

should henceforth be invalid; that the king could not make war or leave

the kingdom without consent of the baronage in Parliament assembled,

who should appoint a regent during the royal absence; that the great

officers of the crown and the governors of foreign possessions, should at

all times be chosen by the baronage, or with their advice and assent in

Parliament. These were important conquests from the Crown, and came in

time to be the established privileges, not exclusively of the peers, but

of Parliament at large.

The very usurpations and arbitrary deeds of the favourites produced

permanent good out of temporary evil; for the barons compelled Edward

to renew the Great Charter, and introduced a new and most valuable

provision into it--namely: "Forasmuch as many people be aggrieved by the

king's ministers against right, in respect to which grievances no one

can recover without common consent of Parliament, we do ordain that the

king shall hold a Parliament once a year, or twice, if need be." Thus,

out of this king's fatal facility to favouritism came not only his own

destruction, but also that grand security of public liberty--the annual

assembling of Parliament.

Besides the troubles related, the kingdom during this reign was afflicted

by a severe famine, which lasted for several years. The dearth was not

produced by drought, but by continued rains and cold weather, which

destroyed the harvests and caused great mortality amongst the cattle,

and, of course, raised the price of everything to an enormous pitch.

Parliament foolishly endeavoured to keep down prices by enacting, in

1315, a tariff of rates for all necessaries of life, but they very soon

discovered that such a device was useless, and therefore repealed it.

In this reign also took place one of those great political changes which

spring of necessity from the progress of society; this was the abolition

of the celebrated Order of the Knights Templars. This famous Order was

one of three religious military Orders which arose out of the Crusades.

The other two were the Knights of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem,

commonly called Knights Hospitallers, and the Teutonic Knights of St.

Mary of Jerusalem, or German Knights of the Cross, all of which sprang up

in the twelfth century. The foundation of the Order of Knights Templars,

or Brethren of the Temple of Solomon, or Soldiers of the Temple, or

Soldiers of Christ, took place in 1118 or 1119. Nine knights, all French,

took a vow to maintain free passage for pilgrims to the Holy Land. To

this vow they added those of poverty, chastity, obedience, and battle

against the infidels. For six or seven years they did not add to their

numbers, but in 1128 Pope Honorius II. confirmed a rule of the Council of

Troyes on their behalf, thus fully recognising them as an orthodox body,

the _Pauperes Commilitones_, or Poor Soldiers of the Holy City. Honorius

appointed them to wear a white mantle, and in 1146 Eugenius III. added

a red cross on the left breast, in imitation of the white cross of the

Hospitallers, whose business it was to attend the sick and wounded, and

entertain pilgrims. This red cross, borne also on their banners, became

famous all over the world, from the valour of these knights, who hence

acquired the common cognomen of Red Cross Knights.

The Order speedily grew into fame and popularity. Young men of the

noblest families of every nation in Christendom eagerly sought admittance

into it. They became extremely numerous, in time admitting priests

and persons of lower rank, or esquires. Their chief seat after their

expulsion from Jerusalem by Saladin was in Cyprus, but they had also

"provinces" in Tripoli, Antioch, Portugal, Spain, France, England,

Scotland, Ireland, Germany, Italy, and Sicily. Their history is the

history of all the wars of the Christians against the infidels in the

East, and for one hundred and seventy years they formed the most renowned

portion of the Christian troops. But with fame came also immense wealth

and--its usual sequence--corruption. Their vows had become a mockery.

Instead of poverty and chastity, they grew notorious for the splendour of

their abodes, and the pomp, luxury, and licentiousness of their lives.

In the time of Edward II. they had incurred the resentment of his

brother-in-law, Philip the Fair, of France. They were suspected of

exciting the Parisians to a resistance to the debasement of the coin,

which Philip was noted for; but there needed no other temptation to their

destruction with this needy prince than their enormous wealth. In 1306

the grand master of the Temple, Jacques de Molay, was summoned to Europe

by Pope Clement V., who had secretly agreed with Philip to suppress the

Order. De Molay was summoned on pretence of consulting with the Pope on

uniting the two Orders of the Templars and Hospitallers. Witnesses were

soon found to charge the whole Order of the Templars with the systematic

practice of the most revolting crimes, and on the 12th of September,

1307, secret instructions were sent to all the governors of towns in

France, by which in one night the whole of the Templars in France,

including De Molay, were seized and thrown into prison. Their houses and

property were everywhere seized, and their great stronghold, the Temple,

in Paris, was taken possession of by Philip himself. For the space of

six years there followed the most extraordinary and terrible scenes. The

members of the Order were put to the most savage tortures to compel them

to confess to the most incredible crimes and, on recanting their forced

confessions, they were burnt at the stake. In Paris, Rheims, Sens,

Vienne, and various other places, these dreadful cruelties and butcheries

were perpetrated, till on the 22nd of March, 1312, the Pope abolished the

Order for ever. On the 18th of March, 1314, De Molay, the grand master,

and Guy, commander, or grand prior, of Normandy, were burnt on one of the

small islands of the Seine.

In England and Ireland they were all in like manner arrested by sealed

orders on a particular day, and their property of every kind, as well

ecclesiastical as temporal, was confiscated. In this country, however,

they were treated with great lenity: the witnesses brought against them

refused to declare that they knew anything to their discredit, or,

indeed, anything of their secret principles or practices. The Pope,

incensed at this leniency, wrote strongly to Edward, exhorting him to

try torture. A threat of treating them as heretics induced all but the

grand master, William de la More, to confess their heresy; and they were

sent to pass the remainder of their lives as prisoners in different

monasteries, the revenues of their immense estates being conferred by

king and Parliament on the Hospitallers, or Knights of St. John of

Jerusalem. Their chief seat was the Temple, in Fleet Street, which

they erected in 1185; but as early as the reign of Stephen they were

established in the old Temple on the south side of Holborn, near the

present Southampton Buildings.

So fell this mighty Order. Matthew Paris asserts that the number of

their manors or estates throughout Christendom amounted to 9,000, and he

estimates their yearly income at not less than £6,000,000 sterling. With

the exception of Spain and Portugal, their property, as in England, was

given to the Knights of St. John.

King Edward II. left four children, two sons and two daughters. Edward

succeeded him; John, Earl of Cornwall, died early at Perth; Joan was

married to David Bruce, King of Scotland; and Eleanor to Reginald, Duke

of Gueldres.