THE REIGN OF EDWARD III.
The Regency--War with Scotland--Edward is Baffled--Peace with
Scotland, and Death of Bruce--Kent's Conspiracy--Overthrow
of Mortimer--Edward assumes Authority--Relations with
Scotland--Balliol invades Scotland--Battle of Dupplin
Moor--Edward supports Balliol--Battle of Halidon Hill--Scottish
Heroines--Preparations for War with France--The Claims
of Edward--Real Causes of the Quarrel--Alliances and
Counter-Alliances--Edward Lands in Flanders--Is Deserted by
his Allies and Returns to England--Battle of Sluys--Dispute
with Stratford--The Breton Succession Question--Renewal of the
War--Derby in Guienne--Edward Lands in Normandy--Battle of Creçy.
The sceptre of England, taken by the indignant nation from the feeble
grasp of Edward of Carnarvon, was once more in the hand of a strong man.
Edward III., sprung immediately from a feeble parent, was, however, of
the stock of mighty kings, and the grandson of the first of his name,
the stern "Hammer of Scotland," and conqueror of Wales. In the youthful
monarch all the vigour and ability of Edward I. revived; and in his
reign the fame of England rose far higher than it had ever yet reached,
bringing the two words of martial glory, "Creçy" and "Poitiers," into
the language, and making them to sound like a trumpet in the ears of
Englishmen in every age. True, the conquests which they marked soon faded
away; but the prestige of British valour which they created was created
for all time. In no period of our history did the spirit of chivalry
show more in the ascendant than in this reign, nor leave names of more
knightly lustre on the page of our history; including not only the
monarch and his illustrious son, but a numerous list of leaders in the
field. Whether the practical utility or the political wisdom of the great
deeds done, exclusive of the renown conferred on the nation, was equal to
their _éclat_, remains for us to determine after our record of them. But
at the commencement of his reign the future conqueror of Creçy was but a
boy of fourteen. The lion of England was yet but the ungrown and playful
cub, and was under the guardianship of a mother of tarnished reputation,
and in the real power of her bold paramour, Roger Mortimer.
For appearance' sake, indeed, a council of regency was appointed during
the minority of the young king; and this council was composed of twelve
of the most influential noblemen and prelates of the realm. Having
named this regency, the Parliament then passed an act of indemnity,
including all those engaged in the deposition of the late king; reversed
the attainders against the late Earl of Lancaster and his adherents;
confiscated the immense and ill-gotten estates of the Despensers; and
granted to the queen-mother a large sum of money to discharge her debts,
and a jointure of £20,000 a year--a sum quite equal in value to £100,000
now. This last enactment, in fact, established the supremacy of the queen
and her paramour Mortimer: the council became, as they meant it to be,
a mere empty figure of State policy; Mortimer--who had taken care not
even to have his name placed on the council, as affecting the modesty
of a private man--now that all appeared secure, assumed the state and
establishment of a king.
[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF EDWARD III.]
Boy, however, as the king was, his spirit was too active and inquiring to
leave him with safety unemployed about the court: there he would be sure
to be soon making observations, which, ere long, might bring trouble to
the usurpers. Mortimer tried to keep him entertained by various frivolous
amusements; but some employment more active and engrossing was needed,
which would lead him to a distance from the court; and this was speedily
furnished by the Scots. Their successes over Edward II. and especially
their grand triumph at Bannockburn, had greatly elated them; and the
present crisis, when a king had been deposed, and a mere boy was on the
throne, appeared too tempting an opportunity for a profitable incursion
into England. Robert Bruce was now growing, if not old, yet infirm; but
he was as full as ever of martial daring.
At this distance of time it seems equally impolitic and ungenerous in
the Scots to make this attack. There was a truce between the kingdoms,
and it might appear as if it would have been in every way more prudent
for the Scots to strengthen and consolidate their internal forces than
thus wantonly to provoke their old and potent enemies. But the state of
rancour between the two countries no doubt impelled them to this course.
Probably, too, the hope of regaining at such a period the northern
provinces of England, which had formerly belonged to Scotland, was an
actuating cause.
Bruce appointed to this service his two great generals, the good Lord
James Douglas and his nephew, Thomas Randolph, now Earl of Moray. They
were to lay waste the counties of Durham and Northumberland, and do all
the injury to England that they could. They made an attempt on the castle
of Norham, but were repulsed, with heavy loss. They then increased their
army to 25,000, summoning the vassals of the Scottish crown from every
quarter--Highlands, Lowlands, and isles.
This army of Scots has been most graphically described by Froissart. He
represents them as lightly armed, nimble, and hardy, and, from their
simple mode of living, capable of making rapid marches or retreats,
being totally unencumbered with baggage. There were 4,000 cavalry,
well-mounted and well-armed; the rest were mounted on ponies, active,
but strong, which could pick up a subsistence anywhere. The men carried
no provisions, except a small bag of oatmeal, and, says the chronicler,
"they had no need of pots or pans, for they cooked the beasts, when they
had skinned them, in a simple manner." That is, they killed the cattle
of the English, of which they found plenty on their march, and roasted
the flesh on wooden spits, or boiled it in the skins of the animals
themselves, putting in a little water with the beef, to prevent the hides
from being burnt. They also cut up the hides for their shoes, fitting
them to their feet and ankles while raw, with the hair outwards; so that
from this cause the English called them the rough-footed Scots, and
_red-shanks_, from the colour of the hides.
Every man carried at his saddle an iron plate, called a girdle, on which,
whenever they halted, they could bake cakes of thin oatmeal. Thus armed
and thus provisioned, the Scots could speed from mountain to mountain
and from glen to glen with amazing rapidity, advancing to pillage, or
disappearing at the approach of an enemy, as if they were nowhere at
hand. With such forces Douglas and Randolph crossed the Tweed, ravaged
Durham and Northumberland, and advanced into the county of York.
To oppose these invaders the English raised rapidly an army said to
amount to 60,000 men. They had recalled John of Hainault and some cavalry
which they had dismissed; and the young king of fourteen, burning with
impatience to chastise the Scots, marched hastily towards the north. His
progress, however, suffered some delay at York, from a violent quarrel
which broke out between the English archers, and the foreign troops under
John of Hainault. The archers, and especially those of Lincolnshire, who
probably had an old feud with the natives of Flanders, displayed a dogged
dislike to these troops, and in the streets of York they came actually to
downright battle, and many men were killed on both sides. This difference
quelled, if not settled, the English army moved on. Very soon they came
in sight of burning farms and villages, which marked the track of the
Scots. These Scots, however, themselves were nowhere visible, for they
retreated with double the celerity with which the English, heavily loaded
with baggage, could follow them. The Scots did not retreat directly
north, but took, according to Froissart, their way westward amongst
the savage deserts and "bad mountains and valleys," as he calls them,
of Cumberland and Westmoreland. The English crossed the Tyne, trusting
to cut off the homeward route of the enemy; but the utterly desolated
condition of the country compelled them to recross that river, for no
sustenance could be procured for the troops. After thus vainly pursuing
this light-footed foe for some time, Edward, excessively chagrined in not
being able to come up with them, or even to find them, offered a freehold
worth £100 a year, and the honours of knighthood to any one who would
bring him intelligence of the enemy. After the soldiers had undergone
severe hardships and enormous fatigue wading through waters and swamps,
a man, one Thomas of Rokeby, came riding hard to the camp and claimed
the reward offered by the king. He said he had been made prisoner by the
Scots, and that they had said they should be as glad to see the English
king as he would be to see them. This was not very probable, as they
might have waited for the king, which they had taken care not to do. They
lay, however, at not more than three leagues distant.
The reason why the Scots had halted was visible enough when the English
came up. They found them posted on the right bank of the Wear, where
the river was deep and rapid, and there was no possibility of getting
at them. Even could they cross the river, they must climb a steep hill
in face of the enemy to attack them. Under these circumstances, Edward
sent a challenge to the Scottish generals to meet him on a fair and open
field, either by drawing back and allowing him to cross the river to
attack them, or giving them the same option to cross over to his side.
Douglas, annoyed at this proposal, advised to accept the challenge; but
the more politic Moray refused, and replied to Edward that he never took
the advice of an enemy in any of his movements. He reminded the king,
as if to pique him to dare the unequal attempt of crossing in their
faces, how long they had been in his country, spoiling and wasting at
their pleasure. If the king did not like their proceedings, he added,
insultingly, he might get over to them the best way he could.
Edward kept his ground opposite to them for three days; the Scots at
night making huge fires along their lines, and all night long, according
to the chronicler, "horning with their horns, and making such a noise as
if all the great devils from hell had come there." In the daytime some
of the most adventurous knights from the English army swam their strong
horses across the river, and skirmished with the Scots--rather to show
their gallantry than for any real effect. On the fourth morning it was
found that the Scots had entirely decamped, and were discovered after
awhile posted in a still stronger position higher up the river. Here
Edward again sat down facing them, confidently hoping that they must be
forced, from want of provisions, to come out and fight. As, however,
they did not do this, the young king's patience became exhausted, and
he desired to pass the river at all hazards, and come to blows with
the Scots. This Mortimer would not assent to; and while lying, highly
discontented with this restraint, on the bank of the river, Edward had a
narrow escape of being taken prisoner.
The brave Douglas, being held back by Moray, as Edward was by Mortimer,
from a general engagement, planned one of those heroic exploits in which
he so much delighted. Making himself acquainted with the English password
for the night, and taking an accurate survey of the English camp, he
advanced, when it was nearly night, with 200 picked horsemen, silently
crossed the river, at some distance above the English position, and then,
as silently turning, made for the English camp. He found it carelessly
guarded, and, seeing this, he rode past the English sentinels, as if he
had been an English officer, saying, "Ha, St. George! you keep bad watch
here!" Presently, he heard an English soldier say to his comrades, as
they lay by a fire, "I cannot tell what is to happen here, but somehow I
have a great fear of the Black Douglas playing us some trick."
"You shall have cause to say so," said Douglas to himself. When he had
got fairly into the English camp, he cut the ropes of a tent with his
sword, calling out his usual war-cry, "A Douglas! a Douglas! English
thieves, ye are all dead men." His followers immediately fell upon the
camp, cutting down the tents, overturning them, and killing the men as
they started up to grasp their arms. Douglas, meanwhile, had reached the
royal pavilion, and was as near as possible seizing the young king, but
the chaplain, the chamberlain, and some of the king's household, being
alarmed, stood boldly in his defence, and enabled him to escape under
the canvas of the tent, though they lost their own lives. Douglas, being
now separated from his followers, many of whom were killed, endeavoured
to make good his retreat, but was in danger of being killed by a man who
attacked him with a huge club. This man, however, he slew, and escaped in
safety to his own camp; his party having, it is said, killed about 300
men.
Soon after this the Scots made an effectual retreat in the night by
having beforehand cut a pathway through a great bog which lay behind
them, and filling it with faggots; the road may still be seen in
Weardale, and called from this cause the "Shorn Moss." The young king, on
entering the evacuated place of encampment the next day, found nothing
but six Englishmen tied to trees, with their legs broken, to prevent them
from carrying any intelligence to their countrymen.
Edward, disgusted with his want of success, returned southward, and
the Scots arrived in safety in their own country. On reaching York the
English king disbanded his army. He then returned to London, highly
dissatisfied, young as he was, with the state of things. Mortimer had
usurped all power. Edward believed that from cowardice, or from some
hidden motive, he had prevented him from taking ample vengeance on
the Scots. At court he had set aside the whole of the royal council;
consulted neither prince of the blood nor the nobles on any public
measure, concentrating in himself, as it were, all the sovereign
authority. He endowed the queen with nearly the whole of the royal
revenues, and enjoyed them in her name. He himself was so besieged with
his own party and parasites, that no one else could approach him, and all
sorts and conditions of men now hated him as cordially as they had once
done Gaveston.
Sensible of this public odium, Mortimer sought to make a peace with
Scotland, to secure himself from attack on that side; and perhaps the
king was not so far wrong in attributing his backwardness to attack the
Scots to some private motive. Certain it is that in the following year,
1328, he made peace with Robert Bruce on terms which astonished and
deeply incensed the whole nation. To give the greatest firmness to the
treaty he proposed a marriage between Joan, or Joanna, the sister of
Edward, then only seven years of age, and David, the son of Robert Bruce,
then only five. That the Scots might accede promptly to this offer, he
agreed to renounce the great principle for which the English nation had
been so long contending--its claim of right to the crown of Scotland.
These terms were, of course, eagerly accepted, and the treaty, to make
all sure, was at once carried into effect. About Whitsuntide a Parliament
was called together at Northampton which ratified the treaty, thus
acknowledging the full independence of Scotland, and on the 22nd of July,
the marriage was solemnised at Berwick, where Isabella had brought her
daughter. This young bride was significantly called by the Scots "Joan
Makepeace," and with her were delivered up many jewels, charters, &c.,
which had been carried away from Scotland by Edward I.
In return for these unlooked-for advantages, Bruce agreed to pay the King
of England 30,000 marks as compensation for damages done in his kingdom.
Edward himself, a few months previous to this marriage of his sister,
had received his long-affianced wife, Philippa of Hainault, who had been
brought to this country by Isabella's champion, John of Hainault, the
young queen's uncle. Philippa proved one of the best wives and queens the
annals of England can boast.
We may here notice the death of Robert Bruce, which took place in the
following year, 1329. He was by no means old, being only fifty-four, but
he was worn down by disease and infirmities contracted through the severe
exertions, hardships, and exposures endured in his stupendous endeavours
for the liberation of Scotland. He entered into contest with an enemy who
appeared to most men too powerful for any hope of success, and left his
country at peace and independent.
With some exceptions, even in that hard and iron age, his character
was marked by great tenderness and amiability. His destruction of the
Red Comyn was an act which, though dictated by policy, his conscience
never approved. On his death-bed he reverted to it, declaring that he
had always meant to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in expiation of
the crime, but, as he could not do that, he commissioned his dearest
friend and bravest warrior to carry his heart thither. In contrast to
and palliation of the slaughter of the Red Comyn, we may place such
actions as that in which he stopped his army in retreat in Ireland,
because a poor woman, who had just given birth to a child, had no means
of being conveyed on with the troops, and was heard by him lamenting that
she should be left to the cruelties of the Irish. No sooner did Bruce
understand her complaint than he looked round on his officers with eyes
which kindled like fire, and exclaimed, "Gentlemen, never let it be said
that a man, who was born of a woman and nursed by a woman's tenderness,
could leave a mother and an infant to the mercy of barbarians. In the
name of God, let the odds and the risk be what they will, let us fight
rather than leave these poor creatures behind us." The army halted and
drew up in order of battle, and Edmund Butler, the English general,
believing that Bruce had received reinforcements, hesitated to attack
him; so that Bruce had opportunity to send on the woman and child, and
retreat at his leisure.
Robert Bruce died at his castle of Cardross on the 7th of June, 1329;
and Douglas, some time after, setting out with several brave knights to
carry the heart of the king to Jerusalem, enclosed in a silver case, and
hung from his neck, stopped to fight the infidels in Spain, where he was
killed; but his remains were brought back to Scotland, as well as the
heart of Bruce, which was buried behind the high altar in the abbey of
Melrose. The body of Bruce was interred in the church of Dunfermline,
where some years ago the tomb was opened, and the remains of his bones
were found, and clearly identified, after a rest of more than 500 years,
by the breastbone having been sawn through to take out the heart, and by
fragments of the cloth of gold in which he was known to have been wrapped.
The peace thus concluded with Scotland did not make Mortimer feel as
secure as he had hoped. Indeed, it added much to the popular resentment
against him. His having so readily yielded up the claims of the nation on
Scotland wounded the public feeling; whilst his arbitrary and ambitious
conduct in domestic affairs drew upon him the hatred of the people and
the jealousy of the nobles. He assumed a splendour even outvying royalty.
He grasped, like all favourites, at riches and honours insatiably. At the
Parliament held in October at Salisbury he caused himself to be created
Earl of March, or Lord of the Marches of Wales. He grossly abused the
prerogative of purveyance, thus robbing the people extensively. Amongst
the barons who beheld this haughty career of Mortimer with disgust, were
the Earls of Lancaster, Kent, and Norfolk, all princes of the blood.
Lancaster was guardian of the king, yet he was kept carefully in the
hands of Mortimer and the queen-mother. Lancaster therefore determined
to assert the authority of his office, and put some check on Mortimer:
but coming to a contest at Winchester, he was obliged to retreat, and
Mortimer then fell on his estates, and ravaged them as he would an
enemy's country. When the three earls were summoned to Parliament at
Salisbury, he strictly forbade them to come attended by an armed body; a
common, though an illegal, practice in those times They complied with
the command, but found, on approaching the city, that Mortimer himself
was attended by his party and their followers all strongly armed. Alarmed
for their personal safety, they made a hasty retreat, and were returning
with their forces, when, from some cause unknown, the Earls of Kent
and Norfolk suddenly deserted Lancaster, who was compelled to make a
humiliating submission, and pay a heavy fine. Through the intercession of
the prelates, the peace was apparently restored amongst these powerful
men.
[Illustration: ROBERT BRUCE'S LAST ORDERS TO DOUGLAS. (_See p._ 391.)]
[Illustration: MELROSE ABBEY.]
Probably Kent and Norfolk had been tampered with to induce them to desert
Lancaster; certain it is that soon after, the weak but well-meaning Kent
was made the victim of a gross stratagem by Mortimer. He surrounded Kent
by his creatures, who asserted that his brother, Edward II., was still
alive. The earl's remorse for the share he had in his brother's ruin
made him eagerly listen to a story of this kind. They represented to
him that it was a fact well and widely known amongst the people, that
the body said to be the king's, which was exhibited at Berkeley Castle,
and afterwards buried at Gloucester, was not his, but that he was now
actually a prisoner in Corfe Castle. Some monks lent themselves to the
base scheme; and exhorted the Earl of Kent to rise to the rescue of his
unfortunate brother, assuring him that his fate excited the deepest
feeling, and that various nobles and prelates, from whom they professed
to come, would at once join in the generous enterprise. No means were
spared to lead their victim into the snare. Letters were forged, as
coming from the Pope, stimulating him to this course, as one required of
him as a brother. The earl, wholly deceived by this infamous conspiracy,
wrote letters to his supposed captive brother, which were handed to
Sir John Maltravers, believed by the earl to be cognisant of the poor
king's incarceration, but in reality one of his murderers. These letters
were duly conveyed to Mortimer and the queen-mother, and were speedily
treated as ample proofs of the earl's treasonable designs. The earl was
invited to come to Winchester, where a Parliament, consisting solely of
the faction of the wicked queen and Mortimer, arrested him on the charge
of conspiring against the government, and condemned him to death and
loss of his estate. Lest the young king should take compassion on his
uncle, the queen and Mortimer hastened his execution. But now was seen
a singular thing. Not a man could be found who would take the office of
executioner; and the son of the great Edward I. stood on the scaffold
before the castle gate for many hours, waiting for a headsman. Such was
the detestation of that lascivious woman and of her base and murderous
paramour, and such the veneration for that worthy nobleman, that not a
man, of any degree whatever, either of the city or neighbourhood, could
be induced by rewards or menaces to take up the axe, till a mean wretch
from the Marshalsea prison, to save his own life, at length consented
to take the life of Edmund of Woodstock, Earl of Kent. This was the
more remarkable because complaints had been made by the public of the
insolence and rapacity of the earl's retainers, who, on the plea of
the royal right of purveyance, would take anything as they rode abroad
without thinking of paying the parties to whom it belonged. This was,
indeed, a great complaint, which was frequently brought to Parliament
against all the princes of the blood of those times, who used the
privilege of purveyance to plunder the defenceless people at will.
Personally, however, the Earl of Kent was much beloved; and though the
king, his nephew, had signed the sentence, the guilt of it was charged on
the queen-mother and Mortimer. The alleged accomplices of the earl were
allowed to escape, except Robert de Teuton and a poor prior, who had told
the earl that he had raised a spirit to inquire whether Edward II. was
really still living. This poor man was imprisoned for life.
The wickedness and rapacity of the queen and Mortimer did not cease
there. Lancaster was thrown into prison. Numbers of the nobility and
prelates were implicated, and Mortimer used this fear of treason to crush
his enemies and aggrandise himself by their property. The estate of the
Earl of Kent he gave to his younger son Geoffrey; the vast demesnes of
the Spensers he seized for himself. His power became most ominous, and
his deeds of arbitrary injustice were more and more complained of, till
all parties forgot their mutual feuds and united against him.
It is the fate of overgrown upstarts never to foresee their ruin. Had
not this blind fatality attached to Mortimer in common with his class,
he must have been sensible that the young king was of a character and
arriving at an age which would bring his destruction. There were not
wanting rumours at the time that Mortimer did not overlook this probable
issue, and had thoughts of destroying the king and assuming the crown.
His own time, however, was come. Edward, long galled by the restraint in
which he was held, now approached his eighteenth year, and his queen,
Philippa, had already brought him a son, afterwards the famous Black
Prince, who was born at Woodstock about three months after the execution
of the Earl of Kent. The conduct of the queen and Mortimer was become
more openly scandalous, and it was generally said that Isabella was about
to become a mother. Edward resolved to act; but he was aware that he was
closely surrounded by the spies of Mortimer, and he went to work with all
the caution of a man conspiring against his sovereign. He fixed on the
Lord Montacute as the nobleman in whose prudence and fidelity he had the
most confidence. Lord Montacute entered cordially into his plans, and
soon engaged some trusty and influential friends in the enterprise.
The queen dowager and Mortimer were residing in the castle of Nottingham.
The king and his coadjutors determined to make that fortress the scene of
their undertaking. A Parliament was summoned to meet there in October of
the year 1330. In order, however, as is supposed, to prevent suspicion
of the king being bent on any high designs, he held a tournament in
Cheapside, which continued three days, and in which he and twelve others
jousted with all knights that appeared in the lists. The young queen
presided, and was regarded with extreme favour by the people; an interest
which was much heightened by an accident--the breaking down of the
platform on which she sat with many other ladies of the court, but from
which they escaped without injury.
The time being arrived for the opening of Parliament, Edward, with
his barons, prelates, and retainers, repaired to the ancient town of
Nottingham. The young king took up his quarters in the castle with his
mother and Mortimer, a convenient arrangement, as gaining him access to,
and exact knowledge of, the lodging of the earl, and also as preserving
him from any suspicion. The barons, bishops, and knights took up their
quarters in the town. Mortimer appeared in high state, accompanied
wherever he went by a strong body of his devoted followers. The plans
of Edward and his coadjutors were settled; and Lord Montacute was seen
riding away into the country with a numerous body of his friends and
attendants, as if going on a visit to some neighbouring baron. This,
undoubtedly, was intended to divert suspicion; but the plot had not
been so closely kept as to escape the quick ears of the emissaries of
Mortimer. On the afternoon of that day he entered the council with a face
inflamed with rage. He declared to the council that a base attempt was
in agitation against the queen and himself, and charged Edward bluntly
with being concerned in it. Edward as stoutly denied the charge, but
Mortimer pronounced his denial false. The council broke up in confusion.
The castle, standing on a lofty precipice overlooking the lovely
valley of the Trent, was strongly fortified on the side of the town. A
numerous guard was placed around it under these alarming circumstances,
and Mortimer and his adherents were all on the alert to watch against
surprise, and to devise schemes of defeat and vengeance on their enemies.
It did not appear a very easy matter to secure the usurper in that
stronghold.
But the town and castle of Nottingham are built on a soft sandstone rock,
in which the ancient inhabitants had sunk many caves, deep cells, and
passages. One of these descended from the castle court to the foot of
the precipice near the small river Leen, where the entrance was at that
time concealed by a wild growth of bushes. Probably the existence of this
passage was wholly unknown to Mortimer and the queen; and the criminal
couple, having the strong military guard placed at the gates at evening,
and the keys conveyed to the queen, who laid them by her bedside,
deemed themselves perfectly secure. But Lord Montacute had sounded Sir
William Eland, the governor, who entered at once most zealously into
the design. By him Montacute and his friends were admitted through this
passage, still called "Mortimer's Hole," and on arriving in the court
they were joined by the king, who led the way in profound silence and
in darkness to an apartment adjoining the hall, in which they could
hear the voices of Mortimer, the Bishop of Lincoln, and others of his
friends, in anxious discussion. Suddenly the concealed party burst open
the door, and killed two of Mortimer's friends who attempted to make
a defence. Queen Isabella, who lay in an adjoining apartment, rushed
in terror from her bed, imploring her "sweet son" to spare her "gentle
Mortimer." Her tears and entreaties for "her worthy knight, her dearest
friend, her beloved cousin," were in vain; the Lord of the Marches and
dictator of the kingdom was led away in safe custody, and on the morrow
brought before Parliament, and condemned to death on the charges of
having usurped the royal power vested in the council of regency; of
having procured the death of the late king; of having beguiled the Earl
of Kent into a conspiracy to restore that prince--that is, to restore a
dead man; of having compassed exorbitant grants of the Crown lands; of
having dissipated the public treasures; of having embezzled 20,000 marks
of the money paid by the King of Scots; besides many other high crimes
and misdemeanors. A more general parliament, summoned at Westminster on
the 26th of November, confirmed this sentence, that he should be hanged
and drawn as a traitor. In the informality of the times, Mortimer was not
allowed to make any defence; nor were witnesses produced for or against
him. He was at once declared guilty from the notoriety of his crimes. On
this ground, nearly twenty years afterwards, the sentence was reversed
by Parliament in favour of his son; the plea being the illegality of the
proceedings.
Mortimer was hanged at the Elms, near London, on the 29th of November,
and with him Sir Simon Beresford, as an accomplice. Three others, who
were likewise included in the sentence, one of them being the infamous
Maltravers, escaped.
Edward now made proclamation that he had taken the government of the
realm into his own hands. He shut up his mother in Castle Rising,
abolished her extravagant jointure, but allowed her £3,000, and
afterwards £4,000, a year. There she passed twenty-seven years, her son
paying her a visit once or twice annually, but taking care that she never
again regained any public influence or authority.
Having disposed of his shameless mother, Edward found ample employment
in restoring rule and order to his kingdom. As in all times when lawless
power prevails at court, robbers, murderers, and criminals had increased
to an enormous extent; public justice was grossly perverted, and abuses
and wrongs everywhere abounded. He issued writs to the judges, commanding
them to administer justice firmly, promptly, and without fear or favour,
paying no regard whatever to any injunctions from the ministers of the
Crown or any other power. He sought out and severely punished the abuses
in the administration of the State, and exacted from the peers a solemn
pledge that they should break off all connection with malefactors--a
circumstance which gives us a curious insight into the times, the great
barons keeping the robbers and outlaws in pay against each other, and
even against the king. This done, Edward turned his attention to what
appeared the grand hereditary object of the English crown of that day,
the subjugation of Scotland.
The great Robert Bruce, as we have seen, had left his son David, a mere
boy, on the throne. He could not but be anxious for the stability of
his position with such a powerful kingdom and martial young king in his
immediate neighbourhood, and with the long-pursued claims and attempts of
England on Scotland. Bruce had, indeed, taken a strong precaution against
the invasion of his son's peace by marrying him to the sister of Edward
of England. But the temptation of ambition in princes has almost always
proved far stronger than the ties of blood, and so it proved in Edward's
case. We might have expected that he would maintain rather than attempt
to destroy the happiness and fair establishment of his sister on the
throne of Scotland. But the spirit of military domination was as powerful
in Edward as in his grandfather. He could not forget that Scotland had
nearly been secured by England, and that the English had lost prestige
at Bannockburn. He burned, therefore, to restore the reputation of the
English arms, and complete the design of uniting the whole of the island
of Great Britain into one kingdom--the life-long aim and dying command of
Edward I.
When princes are desirous of pleas of aggression it is never difficult
to find them, and in this case they were abundant and plausible. In
the treaty of peace and alliance concluded between Bruce and Edward
at Northampton, when Joan was affianced to the heir of Scotland, just
before Bruce's death, it was stipulated that both the Scottish families
who had lost their estates in Scotland by taking part with the English
in the late wars, and the English nobles who had claims on estates
there by marriage or heirship, should all be restored to them. The
Scottish estates were restored; but Bruce, perceiving that those of the
English were much more valuable than the others, had been unwilling
to allow so many dangerous subjects of the English king to establish
themselves in the heart of his realm, where they might become formidable
enemies. He had therefore put off their urgent demands of fulfilment
of this stipulation, on the plea that it required time and caution to
dispossess the potent Scottish barons now holding them. The claim of
Lord Henry Percy was conceded; those of the Lords Wake and Beaumont,
the latter of whom claimed the earldom of Buchan in right of his wife,
were disregarded. Beaumont, a man of great power, and of a determined
character, resolved by some means to conquer his right. He urged it upon
Edward to redress the wrongs of his subjects; but Edward, now freed
from the ascendency of Mortimer, though nothing loath, pleaded the
impossibility of his armed interference in the face of the late solemn
treaty and alliance, and he had used persuasions in vain. Probably,
however, he gave the malcontents to understand that he would not prevent
them from trying to help themselves. Not only was Bruce dead, but his two
great warriors and statesmen, Moray and Douglas, were dead also. Moray
had been left regent and guardian of the young King David, still only
about nine years of age; but to his vigorous administration had succeeded
that of the Earl of Mar, another nephew of Robert Bruce, and a much
inferior man.
[Illustration: EDWARD III.]
At this favourable crisis Beaumont turned his attention upon Edward
Balliol, the son of John Balliol, who had been in vain placed on the
Scottish throne by Edward I. John Balliol had retired to his patrimonial
estate in Normandy, where he had died, and where his son Edward had
continued to reside in privacy. His pretensions to the Scottish crown
had been so decidedly repelled by the Scots, that he had given up all
idea of ever reviving them; and for some private offence he had been
thrown into prison. There Beaumont found him; and selecting him as the
very instrument which he needed to authorise a descent on Scotland
immediately, on the ground of his sufferings as a private person,
obtained his release, and took him away with him to England, the French
king suspecting nothing of the real design. There he represented to
Edward the splendid opportunity which thus presented itself of regaining
the ascendency over Scotland by putting forward Balliol as claimant of
the crown. Edward could not do this openly for many reasons. In the first
place, nothing could be more injurious to his character for justice and
natural affection, were he with a preponderating force to attack the
throne of a minor, and that minor his brother-in-law. In the next place
he was bound by a solemn treaty not to assault or prejudice the kingdom
of Scotland for four years, and the penalty for the violation of this
engagement was £20,000.
[Illustration: INTERRUPTING BALLIOL'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. (_See p._ 398.)]
The Regent of Scotland, however, as well as the late king, had always
admitted the justice of the claims of the disinherited nobles, yet had
always evaded all demands for restoration. Edward's plan, therefore,
was to meet artifice with artifice; and accordingly he connived at the
assembling of Balliol's forces in the north of England, and at the active
preparations of the nobles who intended to join him. Anticipating that
the Borders would be strongly armed, they took their way by sea in a
small fleet, which set sail from Ravenspur, an obscure port, and soon
landed at Kinghorn, in Fifeshire. The Scots, who detested the Balliols as
pretenders under the patronage and for the ultimate purposes of England,
flocked in thousands to the national standard against him. The Earl of
Fife, too precipitately attacking Balliol's forces, was at once defeated,
and the invaders marched northward towards Dupplin. Near this place the
Regent Mar lay with an army said to number 40,000 men. The river Earn
lay between the hostile hosts, and it was evidently the policy of the
Scots to delay a general engagement till the Earl of March, who was
rapidly advancing from the south of Scotland, came up, when the handful
of English must have been surrounded and overpowered. But Balliol, or
his allies the English barons, perceived this danger clearly enough, and
they suddenly crossed the river in the night, before they could be taken
in the rear by March. They found the Scots, confident in their numbers,
carelessly sleeping without sentries or outposts, and falling upon them
in the dark, made terrible slaughter amongst them. In the morning the
Scots, who had fled in confusion, perceiving the insignificant force to
which they had yielded, returned with fury to retrieve their character,
but they again committed the blunder of over-confidence, came on in
disorder, engaged without regard to the nature of the ground--which
was much in favour of the enemy--and were once more defeated with huge
slaughter. Many thousands of the Scots were driven into the river and
drowned, while some were actually smothered by tumbling over each other
in the chaotic flight, and others were cut to pieces. The regent himself,
the Earl of Carrick, a natural son of Robert Bruce, the Earls of Atholl
and Monteith, and the Lords Hay of Erroll, Keith, and Lindsay were slain.
With them fell from 12,000 to 13,000 men, while Balliol lost only about
thirty; a sufficient proof of the rawness of the Scottish forces, and the
frightful panic amongst them. The battle of Dupplin Moor was one of the
most sanguinary and complete defeats which the Scots ever suffered, and
appeared to obliterate all the glories and benefits of Bannockburn.
The victorious army marched direct on Perth, which it quickly reduced.
Balliol was rapidly pursued by the Earl of March and Sir Archibald
Douglas, whose united armies still amounted to near 40,000 men. They
blockaded Perth both by land and water, and proposed to reduce it by
famine. But Balliol's ships attacked the Scottish ones, gained a complete
victory, and thus opened the communication with Perth from the sea. This
compelled the Scots to disband for want of provisions to maintain a long
siege. The adherents of Balliol's family, and all those who in any such
crisis are ready to fall to the winning side, now came flocking in; the
nation was actually conquered by this handful of men, and Balliol, on the
24th of September, 1332, was crowned King of Scotland at Scone. David and
his young betrothed queen were sent off for security to the castle of
Dumbarton; the Bruce party solicited a truce, which was granted; and thus
in little more than a month Balliol had won a kingdom.
But the success of Edward Balliol was as unreal as a dream; he was a
mere phantom king. The Scottish patriots were in possession of many
of the strongest places in the kingdom, while the adherents of Edward
Balliol, each hastening to secure the property he was in search of, the
forces of the new monarch were rapidly reduced in number, and he saw
plainly that he could maintain his position on the throne of Scotland
only by the support of the King of England. He hastened, therefore, to
do homage to him for the Scottish crown, and proposed to marry Joan, the
sister of the king, the affianced bride of the dethroned David, if the
Pope's consent to the dissolution of that marriage could be obtained.
Edward listened to this but the prompt removal of the royal pair from
Dumbarton Castle to France, and the defeat of Balliol, which as promptly
followed, ruined the unprincipled scheme. No sooner were these scandalous
proposals known in Scotland, than a spirit of intense indignation
fired the minds of the patriotic nobles. The successors of those great
men who had achieved the freedom of Scotland under Robert Bruce, John
Randolph, second son of the regent; Sir Archibald Douglas, the younger
brother of the good Lord James; Sir William Douglas, a natural son of
the Lord James, possessor of the castle of Hermitage, in Liddesdale,
and thence called the Knight of Liddesdale, a valiant and wealthy man,
but fierce, cruel, and treacherous; and Sir Andrew Murray, of Bothwell
(who had married Christiana, the sister of Robert Bruce, and aunt of
the young King David), were the chiefs and leaders of the nation. They
suddenly assembled a force, and attacked Balliol, who was feasting at
Annan, in Dumfriesshire, where he had gone to keep his Christmas. On the
night of the 16th of December, a body of horse under Sir Archibald, the
young Earl of Moray, and Sir Simon Fraser, made a dash into the town
to surprise him; and he escaped only by springing upon a horse without
any saddle, and himself nearly without clothes, leaving behind him his
brother Henry slain. His reign had lasted only about three months. He
escaped to England and to Edward, who received him kindly. The Scottish
borderers, elated with this success, rushed in numbers into England,
there committing their usual excesses, and thus furnishing Edward with a
valid plea for attacking Scotland, and inducing the Parliament to support
him in it, which it had hesitated to do before. Edward marched northward
with an army not numerous but well armed and disciplined, and in the
month of May, 1333, invested Berwick, which was defended by Sir William
Keith and a strong garrison.
Sir Andrew Murray, the regent, and the Knight of Liddesdale were taken
prisoners in some of the skirmishes, and Sir Archibald (who became regent
in the place of Murray) advanced with a large army to relieve Sir William
Keith, who had engaged to surrender Berwick if not succoured by the 20th
of July at sunrise. On the 19th, Douglas, after a severe march, arrived
at an eminence called Halidon Hill, a mile or so north of Berwick. It
had been the plan of Douglas to avoid a pitched battle with so powerful
an enemy, and to endeavour to wear him out by a system of skirmishes and
surprises, but the impatience of his soldiers overruled his caution.
His army was drawn up on the slope of the hill, and Edward moved with
all his force from Berwick to attack it. The ground, now fine, solid,
and cultivated land, is represented then to have been extremely boggy.
The Scots, however, dashed through the bogs, and then up the hill at
the English, whose archers received them with a steady and murderous
discharge of arrows. Douglas dismounted his heavy-armed cavalry to give
firmness and impetus to the charge. The Earl of Ross led on the infantry,
and King Edward at his side fought on foot in front of the battle. The
Scots, though they fought desperately, yet, as, from the marshy ground,
they could not come near the archers, and were out of breath with running
up the hill, were thrown into confusion and gave way. The English
cavalry under the king, but still more a body of Irish auxiliaries under
Lord Darcy, pursued fiercely, giving little quarter. The slaughter was
terrible, amounting to 30,000 Scots, and--if the accounts are to be
believed--only one knight, one esquire, and thirteen private soldiers of
the English fell. Nearly the whole of the Scottish nobles and officers
were killed or made prisoners. Amongst the slain were Douglas, the
regent himself, the Earls of Ross, Sutherland, and Monteith. Berwick
surrendered, and Edward once more overran the country. He again seized
and garrisoned the castles, again exacted public homage from Balliol, and
compelled him to cede Berwick, Dunbar, Roxburgh, Edinburgh, and all the
south-east counties of Scotland--the best and most fertile portion of the
kingdom--which were declared to be made part and parcel of England. Such
were the consequences of the fateful battle of Halidon Hill.
Edward left an army of Irish and English to support his wretched vassal
in his fragment of a kingdom; but no sooner did he turn homewards than
the indignant Scots drove Balliol from even that, and compelled him to
seek refuge amongst the English garrisons of the south of Scotland. In
the following years, 1335 and 1336, Edward was again obliged to make
fresh expeditions into Scotland to support Balliol. Whenever the English
king appeared the Scots retired to their mountain fastnesses, while
Edward and his army overran the country with little opposition, burnt
the houses, and laid waste the lands of those whom he styled rebels;
but whenever he returned to England they came forth again, only the
more embittered against the contemptible minion of the English king,
the more determined against the tyranny of England. The regent, Sir
Andrew Murray, pursued with untiring activity Balliol and his adherents.
When Edward marched homeward to spend in London the Christmas of 1336,
he left Scotland to all appearance perfectly prostrate, and flattered
himself that it was completely subdued. Never was it further from such a
condition. Only one spirit animated the Scottish nation--that of eternal
resistance to the monarch who had inflicted on it such calamities, and
set a slave on its throne. The Scots sought and obtained assistance from
France.
The diversion from this country, indeed, proved the salvation of
Scotland; for now began to work the seeds that had been sown, the
elements which had been infused into the English monarchy by Edward I.'s
unprincipled abandonment of his engagement with Count Guy of Flanders for
the marriage of his daughter Philippa with Edward of Carnarvon, and his
alliance, for political purposes, with France. Edward now claimed the
throne of France in right of his mother, and prepared to enforce that
claim by arms. Hence came those long and bloody wars with France which
produced hereditary enmity between the two nations, and the division
of resources of England, in the vain attempt to subjugate France and
Scotland, to which was due the ultimate loss of both countries. The
ambition of Edward overshot itself. Had he confined his efforts to
either of these great objects, he might have succeeded. By far the more
important was the annexation of Scotland. It was a truly statesmanlike
aim to make one consolidated kingdom of the island; but Edward, with all
his talents, had no conception of the manner in which this was to be
effected. If Scotland were to be won by arms, the whole of his forces
should have been concentrated on that object alone. But this purpose
never could be achieved by that means; it required a higher development
of political wisdom and respect for international rights than had then
been arrived at. Before we enter, however, on the narrative of the great
French contest, we must mention a few facts which show the state to which
Scotland was reduced at this time, and the invincible courage of the
people, which called out singular displays of it, even by the women.
After the battle of Halidon Hill, throughout all Scotland only four
castles and one small tower held out for David Bruce. The castles
of Lochleven, Kildrummie, and Dunbar, three out of the four, were
distinguished by sieges which deserve notice. Lochleven Castle stood on
an island, in the loch (or lake) of that name, at Kinross, in Fifeshire.
It was held by Alan Vipont, and was besieged by Sir John Stirling with an
English army. As the island is low, Stirling thought he could draw out
the garrison by blocking up the outlet to the loch. This was effected by
throwing stones and earth into the small river Leven till a huge mound
was raised. But Vipont, aware of the whole scheme, sent in the night
a boat with four men, who cut through the mound, so that the confined
waters broke forth with fury, and swept away the tents, baggage, and
troops of the besiegers. The remains of this mound are pointed out to
this day.
The castle of Kildrummie, which played so conspicuous a part in the war
of Edward I., was now defended by Christiana Bruce, who, as we have said,
was married to Sir Andrew Murray, now regent. It was one of the chief
places of refuge for the patriots, and therefore was besieged by David
Hastings, Earl of Atholl, one of the disinherited lords. Sir Andrew
Murray determined to march to the relief of his wife. He called to his
assistance the knight of Liddesdale, who had been in captivity with him
in England, Sir Alexander Ramsay, of Dalwolsy, and the Earl of March.
They could only raise 1,000 men, and Atholl had 3,000. But while on the
march they were joined by one John Craig, a royalist of Scotland, who had
been released by Atholl from confinement on promise of a large ransom.
This ransom was due on the morrow, and Craig was unable or unwilling to
pay it. He was glad to get rid of Atholl, and therefore undertook to lead
them through the forest of Braemar, so as to take Atholl by surprise.
On the way the people of the neighbourhood also joined them. Atholl was
startled by suddenly perceiving the enemy upon him, but he disdained to
fly. There was a small brook between him and the Scots, and the knight
of Liddesdale keeping his men from crossing it, Atholl rushed over to
attack them, when Liddesdale cried out, "Now is our time!" charged down
the hill, bore Atholl and his forces back into the brook, and slew the
earl and dispersed his force, thus entirely relieving the castle. This
was called the Battle of Kiblene, and much noticed by the Scots as being
fought on St. Andrew's Day, 1335.
Another of the most remarkable defences of these castles was that of
Dunbar by the Countess of March. She was the daughter of the renowned
Thomas Randolph, first Earl of Moray, of that family so gloriously
associated with Scottish history, and from her complexion was called
Black Agnes. The castle of Dunbar was built on a chain of rocks running
into the sea, and its only connection with the mainland was well
fortified. Montague, Earl of Salisbury, besieged it, and brought forward
engines to throw stones, such as were used to batter down walls before
the invention of cannon. One of these, with a strong roof to defend the
assailants, standing up like a hog's back, was called the sow. When Black
Agnes saw this engine advancing, she called out to the Earl of Salisbury,
in derision--
"Beware Montagow,
For farrow shall thy sow."
She had ordered a huge stone to be set on the wall over the castle gate,
and as soon as the sow came under this was let fall, by which means the
roof of the machine was crushed in, and as the English soldiers ran out,
they were shot down by a flight of arrows; whereupon the Black Agnes
shouted out to Salisbury, "Behold the litter of English pigs!"
As the earl brought up fresh engines, and sent ponderous stones against
her battlements, Black Agnes stood there, and wiped disdainfully the
fragments of the broken battlements away with her handkerchief, as a
matter of no moment. The earl riding near to reconnoitre, an arrow meant
for him shot down a man at his side. "That," said the earl, "is one of my
lady's love tokens. Black Agnes's love shafts pierce to the heart."
The countess next tried to inveigle the earl into her power. She sent a
fellow into the English camp who pretended to betray the castle. The earl
was caught by the trick, and came at midnight to the gates, which were to
be opened to him by the traitor. Opened they were; but one John Copland,
the earl's esquire, riding in before him, the guards were too quick; they
dropped the portcullis, thinking the earl had entered, and so shut him
out and betrayed their stratagem.
Black Agnes was at length relieved by Sir Alexander Ramsay of Dalwolsy,
who brought up forces both by sea and land; and the Scots, delighted with
the spirit of the undaunted defender of the castle, celebrated her far
and wide in their minstrel songs. One of these sufficiently portrays the
character of this Scottish amazon:--
"That brawling, boisterous, Scottish wench,
Kept such a stir in towers and trench,
That, came I early or came I late,
I found Black Agnes in the gate."
The brave Sir Andrew Murray, the regent, died in 1338, while this contest
was raging on all sides. He had discharged his office with the greatest
spirit, patriotism, and wisdom, and his death was a severe loss to the
country.
[Illustration: BLACK AGNES AT THE SIEGE OF DUNBAR CASTLE. (_See p._
400.)]
We are now arrived at a crisis in our history which marks at once the
valour and the unscrupulous ambition of the English kings. There is no
period of our annals in which the bravery of our countrymen assumed
a more marvellous character, or in which it was displayed in a more
unjust cause. Whenever we would boast of the military ascendency of the
nation, we are sure to pronounce the words Creçy and Poitiers, but we are
quite as certainly silent as to the political merits of the contest in
which those names became celebrated. The invasions of France by Edward
III. raised the martial glory of England to the highest pitch. There
is nothing in the miracles of bravery done at Leuctra, Marathon, or
Thermopylæ which can surpass those performed at Creçy, Poitiers, and on
other occasions; but there the splendour of the parallel ends. The Greek
battle-fields are sanctified by the imperishable renown of patriotism;
those of England, at that period, are distinguished only by empty
ambition and unwarrantable aggression. The Greeks fought and conquered
for the very existence of their country and their liberties; the English,
to crush those of an independent people. The wars commenced by Edward
III. inflicted the most direful miseries on France, were continued for
generations, and perpetuated a spirit of hostility between two great
neighbour countries, which has been prolific of bloodshed, and most
injurious to the progress of liberty and civilisation. The contest, as
far as Edward III. was concerned, ended with a formal renunciation of his
pretensions on the French crown, and, in the acquisition of nothing but
the town and district of Calais and Guisnes, destined to be lost, at a
future day, with every other English fief and freehold in France.
The impolicy of Edward III. was equal to his spirit of aggression. He was
not content to attempt the complete subjugation of Scotland, which his
grandfather had invaded on pleas as empty as his own regarding France,
and where, during the wars of three reigns, all the power and wealth of
England had been put forth, only to prove that you may exterminate a
brave people, but you cannot conquer them. While he was no nearer the
real annexation of Scotland than his grandfather was the first day that
he advanced beyond Berwick, he aspired to coerce a still more extensive
empire. The real source of this great movement was merely military
ambition.
Edward claimed to be the rightful heir to the crown of France through
his mother. But it had always been held in that country that no female
could succeed to the throne: no such occurrence had ever taken place. It
was declared that this succession was prohibited by a clause in the Salic
code--the code of an ancient tribe among the Franks. It is extremely
doubtful if this code ever existed. On this presumption, however, the
French nation had uniformly acted for nearly 1,000 years. The ancient
Franks were too barbarous and turbulent to submit to a female ruler, and
those who succeeded them steadily pursued the same practice, passing over
female heirs, and placing on the throne men in their stead. The third
race of French kings had transmitted the crown in this manner from Hugh
Capet to Louis Hutin, for eleven generations; during which period no
female, nor any male, even, who founded his title on a female, had been
suffered to mount the throne.
Edward asserted that in England and in other countries such claim was
always considered valid; that a son could and would succeed to his mother
as well as to his father, if he had been born in the lifetime of his
grandfather; and this view of the case was supported by the Government
lawyers of England and some jurists abroad in English pay; but then
the succession was not to take place in England, but in France, whose
whole history and practice were opposed to it. The French maintained,
and truly, that it was a fundamental law that no foreigner could reign
in France; and that it was a chief object of this law to exclude
the husbands and children of those princesses of France who married
foreigners. To put the matter still further beyond question, the States
General of France, in the time of Philip the Long, had passed a solemn
and deliberate decree, declaring expressly that all females were for ever
incapable of succeeding to the crown of France.
What right, then, had Edward to dictate to the French nation his own
views in opposition to theirs? None whatever. By custom (the usage of
nearly 1,000 years), and by express recent law, the principle of the
French nation was clearly established. True, Edward was nearer in blood
to the throne than Philip of Valois, who had now succeeded. He claimed
from his mother, who was daughter of the fourth preceding king, Philip
the Fair, and sister of the three preceding kings; while Philip of Valois
was only cousin-german to the deceased king, Charles the Fair. But all
this the laws and practice of France pronounced to amount to nothing.
There was no passing legally over the fact that no female could succeed,
or could transmit succession to her offspring; and, even if Edward had
been able to prove a valid claim from the female side, he would only
have proved his own exclusion; for the last three kings had all left
daughters who were still alive, and who all stood before him in the order
of succession.
In a legal point of view, then, Edward had not a leg to stand upon in
this question, whether as a king of French or of English descent. Besides
this, Edward, according to all the laws of honour and of nations then
prevailing, had practically renounced any claims of the kind which he
might pretend to. The French king had succeeded to the throne in 1329.
The peers of the realm had declared the crown his. The Parliament of
Paris, and after that the States General of the kingdom had confirmed
their judgment; and not only all France, but all Europe had recognised
him as rightful possessor of the throne. In 1331 the King of France
called upon Edward to come over and do homage for his province of
Guienne. Philip, who was an able man, and of years of experience, was too
prudent to allow any one to retain the shadow of a claim against him.
He lost no time in summoning so powerful a rival as the King of England
to do that homage which would at once cut off any real claim, had it
existed; and, on Edward seeming to hang back, was preparing to seize his
fief by force of arms as forfeited. To have refused to yield this feudal
homage would have been virtually to renounce his right to the province,
or to involve him in a war with this monarch. Edward therefore went over
to France, having first, as if that could have any legal effect, secretly
in his council entered a protest against this act prejudicing his own
claims on the French crown through his mother.
Edward was at that time about eighteen years of age, brave and ambitious.
He was attended by a splendid retinue of peers and knights, and was met
by the King of France with a similarly imposing train. The act of homage
was publicly performed in the cathedral of Amiens. Edward appeared in
a robe of crimson velvet, embroidered with leopards of gold. He came
wearing his armour, girt with his sword, and with his golden spurs of
knighthood on his heels. Philip of France received him seated in a chair
of state, before which was placed a cushion for the king of England to
kneel upon. No doubt, as this act implied vassalage, so far as any lands
in France were concerned, every precaution was taken that so powerful
a monarch of a neighbouring nation, and a suspected rival, should
make no equivocal submission. Edward, on his part, was careful to give
none but the smallest and most indispensable tokens of dependence, and
refused to kneel. On this the Grand Chamberlain of France insisted that
he should kneel, and that he should perform his homage by laying aside
his regal ornaments, his sword, girdle, and spurs. Edward's anger at
this humiliating demand before the assembled chivalry and high-born
ladies of France was excessive; but no remonstrance could move the Grand
Chamberlain, and he was obliged to kneel bare-headed and stripped of all
the marks of his royal rank. His indignation at this proceeding whetted
his enmity against Philip of Valois, and led in no trifling degree to his
future terrible invasions of his kingdom. Yet it was not till 1336, five
years afterwards, and seven after Philip had sat quietly on his throne,
that he openly declared the superiority of his own claims to it, and his
determination to assert them.