Edward’s ambitious designs, it is surely enough to say that he ascended
the throne in 1272, and that during more than eighteen years he never
stirred one step or moved a finger against the honour and independence
of Scotland. In 1290 the Scottish throne became vacant, and he was
clamorously besought, for years, by all the chief men in Scotland to
interfere. Yet, instead of seizing the opportunity, he stood aloof,
went, at last, cautiously into the question, and in November, 1292,
adjudged the throne to Baliol.
Four more years elapsed without the slightest move on Edward’s part
against Scotland. But in 1296, the twenty‐fourth year of Edward’s
reign, the Scotch joined with his enemy, the king of France, and
invaded England. And then, and not before, being in his fifty‐seventh
year, did the king enter Scotland, a country which, we are now assured,
he had been coveting and “plotting against” for a whole quarter of a
century. We say, then, once more, that these constant representations
of Edward, which we find in a multitude of historians, great and small,
exhibiting him as an ambitious man, a conqueror, a “designing man,”
constantly “plotting against the safety of his neighbours,” constitute,
on the whole, one of the most extraordinary instances of literary
injustice and wrong that is to be found in all British history.
Let us look for a moment at the actual results, the real facts, of
these eighteen years. Surely a period of this length, extending from
the thirty‐third to the fifty‐first year of Edward’s life, might be
expected to show his real character, the true bent of his mind. A
conqueror, an ambitious man, is not likely to waste the whole prime of
his life in peaceful inactivity, and only to exhibit his cupidity and
unscrupulousness when grey hairs were beginning to show themselves.
The victors of Crécy and of Agincourt followed no such course. What
Edward really was, he showed in these eighteen years. The conquest of
Wales, the only interruption of an otherwise peaceful course, was, as
we have shown, forced upon him. He had no choice in the matter. The
Welsh princes would not have peace. But, with this one exception, what
was the character of this protracted period—the whole prime of Edward’s
life?
It was that of constant, careful, sedulous improvement. No department
of the government was exempt from his thoughtful scrutiny. The
revenues of the crown were carefully examined, and their economical
employment provided for. In place of “seizures” for the king’s use, we
now find “purchases.” The household expenses were placed on a proper
footing. The king could exhibit royal splendour when public occasions
called for it; but the general rule of his expenditure was that of
frugality. A modern writer observes, that “his household as king was
both well‐regulated and economical. We have a record of his expenses
while residing at Langley, Bucks, in Lent, 1290.” This, of course, was
not a season of festivity; but we find that “in the first week his
expenses were £7 10s. 4½d; in the second, £5 19s. 0½d.; and in the
third, £5 12s. 2½d.[35] Now, bearing in mind the habits and usages of
that time,[36] when the regulated price of a lamb was _sixpence_, and
of a goose, _fourpence_, we shall see at a glance that this expenditure
for a king, in retirement during the season of Lent, was both liberal
and economical. It contrasts forcibly with the reckless extravagance
of his father Henry, and of his still more wasteful son, the second
Edward. Henry, after his royal festivities at Bourdeaux and Paris in
1254, returned home burdened with debts, which he himself described as
“horrible to think of.” And the younger Edward, when just commencing
life, seems to have been accustomed to spend as much _daily_ as we have
just seen his father spend _weekly_! We have a record of his household
expenses for three days in 1293, when he was staying in a country
residence. On Thursday his expenses amounted to £7 4s. 5d., on Friday,
to £6 8s. 1d., and on Saturday, to £6 4s.; being at the rate of about
£46 per week. The expenditure of his household in that year amounted to
£3,846 7s. 6d., which at the present rate of money would be equal to
more than £50,000 per annum. That such habits in youth should lead to a
reign of discomfort, closing on dishonour, is not to be wondered at.
Edward I., however, though economical, was no lover of money. On
fitting occasions his expenditure was royal. His coronation banquet was
one of unusual splendour and liberality. His Round Table celebrations
must have been very costly. Fond of hunting, his stables must have
occasioned a considerable outlay. His presents were magnificent,
his charities were very large. The entries under this head, in his
“Wardrobe Accounts,” were numerous, and must have reached an aggregate,
in each year, of large amount. One of the chronicles of the day makes
this brief allusion to his charities:—
“King Edward, turning aside to the northern parts, celebrated Easter
at Newcastle, where he distributed great abundance of oblations in the
monasteries, and gave large alms to the people; insomuch that many men
not poor did not blush to pretend themselves so, being allured by so
great a liberality.”[37]
On the first anniversary of his consort’s death, besides great and
costly solemnities at Westminster, the Black Friars in London, and
at Lincoln, we find mention made of many other places—Haverfordwest,
Burgh, Haverleigh, Somerton, Lindhurst, Ledes, and Langley—where the
day was observed with especial rites, and the distribution of alms. All
this was done at the king’s expense, and sums varying from £19 to £30
were given to each place. But £30 in those days was nearly equal to
£500 at the present day.
On the second anniversary, besides many other celebrations, alms were
distributed to the prisoners in Newgate, to the hospitals of St. Giles,
St. James, St. Thomas, St. Mary, and St. Bartholomew, in London, and
also to the seven houses of Friars’ mendicants in the same city.
Edward reformed the coin of the realm. He strove to restore purity to
the administration of justice. By many stringent regulations he tried
to abolish usury, which had grown to be an enormous evil.
It is in his reign that we first find an annual account of the public
revenue and expenditure.[38] So admirably were the finances of the
government administered, that in all these eighteen years, 1272-1290,
we find only four applications to the people for an “aid”—a vote of
taxes for the expenditure of the crown; and each of these is for a
declared and special purpose.
In his fourth year, the second after his coronation, he asked and
obtained a _fifteenth_, to clear off his remaining liabilities on
account of his expedition to the Holy Land—a work deemed, in those
days, to be a public duty.
In his fifth year, he asked for a _twelfth_, to provide for the
expenses of the anticipated war with Wales.
In his eleventh year, the war in Wales having broken out a second time,
he obtained a _thirtieth_ from the laity and a _twentieth_ from the
_clergy_.
And in his eighteenth year, having returned from a prolonged visit to
Gascony and other parts, where he had incurred many expenses, he asked
and obtained a _fifteenth_.
These four small levies are all that Edward required during the first
eighteen years of his reign. And the termination, for ever, of the
destructive warfare on the borders of Wales, which had so long laid
waste several counties of England, was far more than an abundant
compensation to his people. Had he never been assailed by others, the
rest of his reign might have passed over without any further demands
upon his subjects. Had not Philip of France endeavoured to deprive him
of Gascony, while the Scotch, in reckless violation of their recent
oaths, allied themselves to France and invaded England; there is no
reason to suppose that any burdens would have been laid upon the
people, or that the earls of Norfolk and Hereford would have found any
opportunity for their resistance or their “patriotism.”
But the chief glory of his reign was, that he saw and appreciated that
great public necessity—the want of good laws, and of a constitutional
legislature for their consideration and enactment. We have already
cited, but must here repeat, his first avowal, made as early as in the
year 1267, of what he deemed to be the true office, the first duty of a
king. Speaking in his father’s name, he said,—
“Our lord the king, providing for the better estate of his realm
of England, and for the more speedy administration of justice, as
belongeth to the office of a king; the more discreet men of the realm
being called together, as well of the higher as of the lower degree;
it was provided, agreed, and ordained,” etc.
Here we have, before he had ascended the throne, but at a time when he
assuredly governed the vessel of the State, a brief but pithy outline
of the constitution of England; and that outline it was the effort,
the business of his life to fill up. With a vigorous hand he applied
himself to the work of establishing a system of wise laws, and of
improving the administration of justice. His sagacious and active mind
penetrated and pervaded every department. And hence it is, that, in the
judgment of all competent historians, the thirteenth century is the
starting‐point of the history of England. A writer of the Elizabethan
age[39] repeatedly notices with admiration, “his noble industry,” his
“unceasing labours”; and this praise is justified by the recorded
facts. In former reigns, foreign contests, and the suppressions of
rebellion, or the enjoyment of hunting, filled up the reigns of the
Norman kings. But Edward lived for England. In the former reigns, a
brief charter had sometimes been extorted from the king; and in Henry’s
long reign our Statute‐Book commences, with six ordinances, made in the
course of fifty‐six years. But so soon as Edward ascends the throne,
legislation of the highest order at once begins. Crowned in 1274, in
1275 we have the “Statute of Westminster,” “a code, rather than an act
of parliament.” In 1276, the statutes on _Coroners_ and on _Bigamy_.
Occupied with Wales for one year, in 1278 we have the “Statute of
Gloucester;” in 1279, the great “Statute of Mortmain.” Once more Wales
claimed his attention; but in 1283 was passed “the famous statute” _de
Mercatoribus_. In 1284, followed the “Statutes of Wales.” In 1285, the
second “Statutes of Westminster;” and subsequently, the “Statute of
Winchester.” He was then abroad for three years; but on his return, we
have, immediately, the statutes “Quo Warranto,” “Quia Emptores,” and
“Westminster III.” Thus it is evident that Edward deemed, most wisely
and justly, that the establishment of good and wholesome laws was his
primary duty.
A hasty observer might remark that the quantity of this legislation
was not large, and that a statute or two in a year might be reckoned a
slow rate of production. But the answer to this is obvious. The work
of legislation was but newly undertaken, and those who had addressed
themselves to it were prudently cautious. Some of these statutes, too,
were large and comprehensive measures, well deserving a prolonged and
careful consideration. But this brings us to a distinct and separate
question—the character and value of Edward’s legislation. And this is
the most wonderful feature in the whole case; for the quality of this
legislation is probably unparalleled. Who is a higher authority on such
matters than Sir Edward Coke?—and he, describing Edward’s laws, says:—
“All the statutes made in the reign of this king may justly be styled
_establishments;_ because they are more constant, standing, and durable
laws, than have been made ever since. Justly, therefore, may this king
be called, our Justinian.”
Fifty years after Sir Edward Coke, lived the great and good Sir Matthew
Hale, who, in describing the growth of the common law of England, says
of this reign:—
“Never did the laws, in any one age, receive so great and sudden
an advancement. Nay, I may safely say, that all the ages since his
time have not done so much, in reference to the orderly settling and
establishing the distributive justice of this kingdom, as he did in
the short compass of his single reign.” He adds: “Upon the whole, it
appears, that the very scheme, mould, and model, of the common law, as
it was rectified and set in order by this king, so in a great measure
it has continued the same, through all succeeding ages to this day. So
that the mark or epocha we are to take for the true starting of the law
of England, _what it is_, is to be considered, stated, and estimated,
from _what this king left it_. Before his time it was, in a great
measure, rude and unpolished; while, on the other hand, as it was thus
polished and ordered by him, so it has remained hitherto, without any
great or considerable alteration.”
It would be easy to enlarge on this subject, but we are limiting
ourselves to an outline. Sir William Blackstone thus describes this
remarkable period of legislation:—
“Edward established, confirmed, and settled the great charter and the
charter of forests.
“He gave a mortal wound to the encroachments of the pope and his
clergy, by limiting and establishing the bounds of ecclesiastical
jurisdiction; and by obliging the ordinary, to whom the goods of
intestates at that time belonged, to discharge the debts of the
deceased.
“He defined the limits of the several temporal courts of the highest
jurisdiction, the king’s‐bench, common‐pleas, and exchequer, so that
they might not interfere with each other’s proper business.
“He settled the boundaries of the inferior courts, in counties,
hundred, and manors.
“He secured the property of the subject, by abolishing all arbitrary
taxes and talliages levied without consent of parliament.
“He guarded the common justice of the kingdom from abuses, by giving
up the royal prerogative of sending mandates to interfere in private
causes.
“He settled the forms, solemnities, and effect of fines levied in the
court of common‐pleas.
“He first established a repository for the public records of the
kingdom.
“He improved upon the laws of king Alfred, by that great and orderly
method of watch and ward, established by the statute of Winchester.
“He settled and reformed many abuses incident to tenures, by the
statute of _Quia emptores_.
“He instituted a speedier way for the recovery of debts, by granting
executions, not only upon goods and chattels, but also upon lands, by
writ of elegit; a signal benefit to a trading people.
“He effectually provided for the recovery of advowsons as temporal
rights.
“He closed the great gulf in which all the landed property of the
kingdom was in danger of being swallowed, by his reiterated statutes of
Mortmain.
“I might continue,” adds Sir William, “this catalogue much further;
but, upon the whole, we may observe that the very scheme and model of
the administration of common justice, between party and party, was
entirely settled by this king.”
Legislation, then, and not military aggrandisement, was the work to
which Edward gave himself; and to liken him to Justinian does him much
less than justice. The Roman emperor lived at the close of a long
period, during which Rome had abounded in laws, and in which the laws
had grown too complex and voluminous. His merit is, that he collected
and arranged them into a code. Edward’s position was wholly different.
He was born at a period when England, then rising into the position of
a nation, found itself without written laws and without a legislature;
and he set himself to work, with clearness of vision and with largeness
of heart, to supply both these wants. In the first of these merits he
does not stand alone. Other rulers have seen the need of laws, and have
set themselves to supply that need. But too often they have wished that
the work should be theirs, the power theirs, and the merit theirs also.
Now it is Edward’s peculiar glory that, from the very opening of his
public life, he seemed to have seen and adopted the great truth which
lies at the foundation of all “constitutions,” that “what concerns all
should be by all approved,” and that “common perils should be met by
remedies prescribed in common.” These words fell from him in 1295, but
the sentiment contained in them is discernible in every step of his
whole career.
It is this, then, and not any supposed “attempt to subject the whole
island to his sway,” which constitutes the chief feature, the principal
merit of Edward’s reign. To be a conqueror, although indeed this kind
of conquest—the bringing one island under one government—would be the
wisest and the best; to be a conqueror would be but an ordinary and
very common sort of merit. The organ of “acquisitiveness” is possessed
by a great many of the human race. Edward’s true glory lay, not in his
desire to _take_, but in his willingness to _give_. When he went forth,
“mighty in arms,” it was, in every case, because his foes left him no
choice,—because to remain at peace would have been dishonour. But his
peaceful conquests, his legislative victories, were entirely his own.
Here we see his own mind and will. From his first accession to power,
until the latest hour of his reign, two great objects were constantly
present to his mind. He saw that the realm required, and ought to
have, a parliament, consisting not only of prelates and lords, but of
“all the commonalty of the realm, thither summoned;” and next, that a
chief function and office of this parliament should be to deliberate
upon proposals laid before it, which should become, when assented to,
statutes of the realm.
It is the enunciation of these two principles which constitutes the
real glory of king Edward’s reign. That enunciation was his own
voluntary act, and its sincerity was proved by all the measures of
his subsequent career. His life was devoted to the working out of
this great theory. His first statute, in its preamble, gives a bold
and fearless sketch of a free legislature; and, before he died, he
had gathered around him, as elected members of that legislature, the
representatives of all the most populous towns of his realm of England.
Justly then does the writer whom we have already cited, a contemporary
of Spenser and of Shakespeare, describe this king as one “in whom we
see the value of wisdom, kingly powers, and noble industry,” one who
“was a fatherly king to his people; employing all his life, care, and
labour to benefit and nourish the commonwealth”—one, in fine, “in
whom the good government and commonwealth of England had their chief
foundation.”[40]
Footnotes:
[33] Sir J. Mackintosh.
[34] Pearson’s Hist. of England, vol. ii., p. 292.
[35] Blaauw on “the Barons’ war,” p. 34.
[36] The “Chronicle of Lanercost” gives us this anecdote of the
manners of that day: “Richard de Clare, earl of Gloucester, paid
a visit to Robert Grosstête, bishop of Lincoln, who received him
with great honour, and desired his seneschal to provide a fitting
dinner. At table the earl was seated at his host’s right hand, and
it was a day when meat was not permitted by the Church. It was
customary to eat choice sea wolves [the dog‐fish, still eaten in
parts of Normandy], and the servant placed a very fine fish before
the bishop, and a smaller one before the earl. The bishop was
angry, and said, ‘Take away this fish, or else bring the earl one
equally fine.’ The servant said that there was no other so large.
‘Then,’ said the bishop, ‘take away this first and give it to the
poor, and bring me one like the earl’s.’”—“Chronicle of Lanercost,”
p. 44.
[37] “Chronicle of Lanercost,” A.D. 1291.
[38] See Appendix.
[39] Castra Regia. Roxburgh Club.
[40] “Castra Regia,” Roxburgh Club.
VI.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS—THE ARBITRATION—THE WAR.
A.D. 1291-1296.
The year 1290, as we have already observed, was the disastrous one
which ended Edward’s peaceful career, and involved him, without any
purpose or desire of his own, in troubles and strife for the rest of
his days. The death of a young princess, at a distance of five hundred
miles from Edward’s dominions, involved the northern part of the island
in troubles which he alone had power to quell. His interposition,
earnestly and loudly called for, became, apparently, inevitable.
But, when once engaged in the attempt, there seemed no option left
him in any of the after‐proceedings. Step followed step, by absolute
necessity, until the annexation of the Scottish realm became the
natural and unavoidable close; and in this way, without having any
alternative, he became an object of enmity to almost every Scotchman,
and drew down on his memory in after times, the bitter and unjust
animadversions of a long series of prejudiced historians.
A controversy had existed between England and Scotland for centuries
before Edward was born. Various kings of England had received the
homage alike of the princes of Wales and of the kings of Scotland.
We have seen that when Edward was to be crowned, his brother‐in‐law,
Alexander of Scotland, came to Westminster and paid his homage; while
Llewellyn of Wales, not denying his liability, tried to evade that
ceremony by various excuses.
But two different meanings were attached in England and Scotland
to this fealty due from the Scottish king. The English lawyers and
statesmen always maintained that it was due to the king of England
_for the realm of Scotland_. The Scots, on the other hand, insisted on
another view—that the king of Scotland owed homage for the honour or
earldom of Huntingdon, a possession held by him within the realm of
England; but that for Scotland itself he owed no fealty, and ought not
to come under any obligation. This quarrel, or difference of opinion,
had existed for two or three hundred years. It came to the surface at
Edward’s coronation, when his brother‐in‐law, the king of Scotland,
appeared at Westminster in great state to pay his homage. He came
attended by a hundred knights, and, as we have already narrated, “each
knight, as he dismounted from his horse, cast the steed loose, and
whosoever could catch them, had them to their own behoof.” But still,
when the homage was to be paid, the usual question arose. The English
lawyers and statesmen demanded an unconditional homage for the realm of
Scotland. The Scotch persisted in limiting it to “the lands their king
held of king Edward in England.” No quarrel ensued; the question seems
to have been postponed, for we find that three years after, Edward
writes to the bishop of Wells, that “his beloved brother, the king of
Scotland, had agreed to perform an unconditional homage at the ensuing
feast of Michaelmas.” Alexander then appeared before the parliament at
Westminster, and offered his homage in these words: “I, Alexander, king
of Scotland, do acknowledge myself the liegeman of my lord Edward, king
of England, against all his enemies.”
This Edward accepted;[41] and it is abundantly evident that, as the
two brothers‐in‐law had no intention of quarrelling, the real point in
dispute—the allegiance claimed “for the realm of Scotland”—was left
undecided—Edward not conceding, Alexander not admitting, the alleged
rights of the English crown.
This position of postponement, declining to bring the matter to a
quarrel, continued during the whole of Alexander’s life. Edward and he
remained in amity; but Edward in this and all other disputed questions,
always used the reservation—”saving the rights of my crown;” _i.e._,
“whatever properly belongs to the king of England, _that_ I do not
concede.”