David, earl of Huntingdon.

|

+-------------+--------------+

Margaret. Isabel.

| |

Devoirgoil. |

| Robert Bruce.

| |

------+----------- |

Margaret. John Baliol, |

| king, Robert Bruce,

| 1292 earl of Carrick.

John Comyn. |

Robert Bruce,

afterwards king of Scotland.

[103] Professor Stubbs’s Select Charters, p. 35.

[104] Hallam, vol. iii., 3.

[105] “Malitiam, fraudem, proditionem, et dolum,” Brady, App., N. 37.

[106] Tytler’s History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 121, 122.

[107] Samuel Stanham, a merchant and grocer in Lincoln, was one of

the representatives of that city in this parliament of 1301.

[108] The city of London, about this time, allowed its four

representatives for their joint expenses, out of the city cash,

twenty shillings per diem; which would be equal to fifteen pounds

daily, at the present time.

[109] Rymer’s Fœdera, vol. ii., p. 927.

XI.

THE DISAFFORESTING QUESTION—THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, ETC., ETC.,

A.D. 1299-1305.

We have purposely omitted one topic of dispute which occupied Edward

much during the latter years of his life, reserving it for a distinct

consideration. We now return to this subject, intending, if possible,

to bring the whole of these transactions into one connected view. In

speaking of the parliament of Lincoln a few pages back, we noticed

the occurrence of this question, but it occupied much time in several

other parliaments besides that of Lincoln. It gave rise to a strife

which continued during all the years between 1299 and 1305, the subject

of which was the proper execution of the Charter of Forests. We have

already remarked, more than once or twice, that most of our historians

have confused the question by speaking in general terms of Edward’s

unwillingness to confirm “the charters;”—a vague way of speaking, which

entirely clashes with what we know of Edward’s continued efforts,

during more than twenty years, to strengthen and enlarge Magna Charta

by turning it into statute‐law; and we have also explained that the

points which were really in dispute were these two: first, the king’s

right of taking “talliages or prises” without consulting parliament;

and, secondly, a reduction of the royal forests, under the name and by

the means of what was called “a new perambulation.”

In tracing the history and the result of these two struggles, it is of

great importance to remark at the outset that Edward had reigned for _a

quarter of a century_ before any controversy on either of these points

broke out. From 1272 to 1297 had the king held the sceptre, usually

meeting his parliament twice or thrice in each year, and during all

that time not a syllable had been heard either of any burdensome “prise

or talliage,” or of any desire for “new perambulations.” In fact, the

real and primary authors of all his troubles, during the last ten years

of his life, were Philip of France abroad, and the restless and crafty

Winchelsey at home. Until disturbed and molested by these two men,

Edward had been able so to conduct his affairs as to leave his subjects

almost free from taxation; and during all these five‐and‐twenty years

we hear no complaint, either of any infringement of the charters, or

of any mismanagement of the royal demesnes. This long period of peace

and contentment was terminated at last by Philip’s seizure of Gascony,

and by Winchelsey’s attempt to gain for the church an exemption from

taxation.

No one, surely, will for a moment deny that Edward was wholly blameless

in both these quarrels. To have patiently or sluggishly submitted to

the treachery and fraud practised by Philip, would at once have removed

Edward’s name from the highest place among English kings, and would

have degraded it to almost the lowest. He had no choice in this matter

but between resistance or dishonour. Equally certain is it that the

immunity claimed by the pope and the primate for the clergy in the

matter of taxation, was a pretension utterly untenable and unjust, and

one which the king was bound to resist.

But while Edward thus felt himself “thrice armed” in “having his

quarrel just,” he often found himself beset by difficulties through

the deficiency of his accustomed supplies. Hence he was driven by dire

necessity to some of those extreme measures which dictators, in any

great peril of the state, often feel themselves compelled to use.

And thus arose that kind of opportunity which often produces

“patriots.” Two of the great nobles, Hereford and Norfolk, evidently

disliked the war. They would not go to Gascony _without_ the king; they

would not go to Flanders _with_ the king. In what way they would have

preserved the honour of England under Philip’s fraudulent aggression

has never been explained. They contented themselves with finding fault

and raising difficulties. In their remonstrance presented to the king

just before his departure for Flanders, they complain of the burdensome

taxation to which they had recently been subjected. They also add

in one brief and vague sentence an allegation, “that the charter of

forests is also violated by the king’s officers;” but no demand for a

perambulation or any other remedy is advanced by them. The first of

these two complaints was admitted, and the remedy applied that same

autumn by a fresh grant or confirmation of Magna Charta, with a new

clause prohibiting the arbitrary levy of “prises or talliages” without

consent of parliament; and so ended that part of the controversy. But

the remaining clause in their petition, which opened in the vaguest way

the question of the forests, was left for future discussion. The earls

had not preferred any definite request or demand.

Such a question, however, when once mooted was not very likely to sink

into forgetfulness, for it concerned the possession of property—the

right to large landed estates. The “earl” of a county was, in some

sense, the proprietor of that county, or, at least, somewhat more than

the nominal lord of it. And a royal forest situate within it was just

so much taken from the earl’s estates; and hence, if in any way he

could reduce the limits of the forest, he added thereby and to the same

extent to his own territory.

Hereford and Norfolk had already dared the king’s anger once or twice,

and had suffered nothing by their audacity; and now, whether prompted

merely by their own obvious interests or advised by Winchelsey, who

seems to have been always their counsellor, they boldly demanded “a new

perambulation.”

For five‐and‐twenty years, as we have already seen, had Edward reigned,

without a complaint having been made with reference to the royal

forests. It is only in 1297 that the first murmur reaches him, that

“the charter of forests is violated by the king’s officers.” He is then

just embarking for Flanders; but so far from slighting or disregarding

this complaint, on his return, in 1298, he issues a commission to the

earl of Lincoln, the earl Warenne, the bishop of London, the bishop of

Lichfield, Robert Fitzwalter and William le Latimer, “to enquire into

all prises, trespasses, and oppressions committed by the officers of

the forests.” No backwardness, then, can be charged against Edward in

his mode of dealing with this question.

But a “redress of grievances,” though at first put forward as their

object, was not the real object at which the two earls were now

aiming. In 1299 and in 1300, parliaments were held in London, and in

each year the demand put forward is for “a new perambulation” and a

“disafforesting.” This was a new move in advance—a direct aggression.

The only object that a “perambulation” could have, clearly was, to take

something from the royal forests. If it did not mean this, it meant

nothing.

Now this was assailing the king in a manner most disagreeable to his

feelings. As we have already seen, he was jealous of any encroachments

on the rights of the crown, and held it to be his duty sedulously to

preserve those rights from any diminution. He had never been charged

with any attempt to encroach upon others; yet now an attempt was

made to encroach upon him. For the principle adopted was, “that all

additions made to the forests since the coronation of Henry II., should

now be disafforested.” Thus domains which had been in the possession of

the crown for nearly _one hundred and fifty years_ might now be taken

away.

“The royal forests were part of demesnes of the crown. They were

not included in the territorial divisions of the kingdom, civil or

ecclesiastical; nor governed by the ordinary courts of law; but were

set apart for the recreation and diversion of the king.” And this kind

of recreation was the favourite occupation of Edward’s leisure hours.

He engaged in it with all the ardour of a naturally impetuous mind. On

one occasion we read of “the great hunt in Inglewood forest, in which

two hundred deer were killed;” on another, of his horse’s falling dead

under him; and in a variety of ways we are made aware of his especial

fondness for this diversion. Hence, on every ground, as an aggression

on the domains of the crown, even after a century of quiet possession;

and as an attempt to interfere with his own private recreations, Edward

felt disposed to dislike and reject this proposal.

But the two earls, doubtless advised by Winchelsey, felt that they had

the king at a disadvantage, and they continued to press him closely.

The same motives which actuated them, must weigh, they well knew, with

almost every baron in parliament. Every landed proprietor who had a

royal forest in his neighbourhood, might hope to gain something by an

investigation of the king’s title, and an inquiry as to the proper

boundaries. Nor could Edward peremptorily reject their requests; for

Scotland was still in an unquiet state, and the king could only put

down those disturbances by the help of his barons and his parliament.

In 1297, as we have seen, the complaint of the two earls was, “that

the charter of forests is violated by the king’s officers.” In 1298,

bearing in mind this complaint, the king issues a commission to two

earls, two bishops, and two knights, “to inquire into all oppressions

committed by the king’s officers.” But not satisfied with this, in

1299, the charters are again mentioned in parliament, and now the real

object—_disafforesting_—peeps out. A new “perambulation” is loudly

demanded, and it becomes evident that an important reduction of the

domains of the crown is the object aimed at.

So long as the two earls had merely asked for a confirmation of the

charters, or for inquiry into the misdoings of the officers of the

forests, the king had listened patiently; and had, in fact, conceded

all that they desired. But when they urged these new demands, he

grew impatient, and, as twilight was coming on, he rose and left the

meeting, telling them that he was going out of town.[110] The sitting

consequently broke up, not without some anger. But the king’s marriage

with Margaret of France took place that autumn; and apparently,

being in a good humour, and having reflected on the matter in all

its bearings, he resolved to gratify the earls so far as to order a

new perambulation to be made. Commissions were issued, as we find in

Prynne, either in 1299 or 1300, to a great number of the counties, for

inquiries into, and reports upon, the boundaries of the royal forests.

And thus, when the parliament met, in the Lent of 1300, in Westminster,

the king was able to inform the members that the perambulations which

they had desired were then in progress; and that the reports would be

ready early in the next year. At that parliament, also, he passed, as

we have mentioned in a former chapter, a new statute “on the charters,”

which explained and strengthened them on various points—more especially

as to illegal “prises and talliages” made by officers of the crown.

Of the great parliament of Lincoln, held in 1301, we have already

given some account. It deserves to be ever remembered in England, on

various grounds. It was a large and full assembly, containing, in just

numbers and proportions, those same elements which are combined in the

British parliament of the present day. It had its earls and barons

and prelates, in number about one hundred and fifty; its knights of

the shire, in full tale; and its borough representatives, in still

more numerous array. Its proceedings, too, began to assume that sort

of form or order which has been preserved in most representative

assemblies from that time to the present. The king sent down to “his

faithful lords and commons” a message or speech; to which they, after

due deliberation, returned a reply. Motions were made, and an address

presented to the king, for a change of ministers;—and the parliament

even went so far as to ask to be allowed to name the ministers of the

crown. The king, in his turn, gave such a reply as, it may be hoped, a

British sovereign of the present day would be advised to give to any

such demand. After a while, this heated and personal contest abated;

the king made some important concessions; and the parliament granted

a supply. Lastly, the pope’s audacious claim to the sovereignty of

Scotland was taken into consideration; and a resolute and thoroughly

English answer was given to the pontiff’s arrogant pretensions. On the

whole, there have been few assemblies of this kind held in England,

which have better deserved to be held in honourable remembrance, than

this parliament of Lincoln.

Its mode of dealing with the “Papal aggression” has been described in a

former chapter. Its reply to pope Boniface terminated that controversy.

But of the discussions which took place on domestic matters we gain

only a few glimpses, which show, however, so much of the animation and

importance of its debates, as to cause deep regret that we have no

detailed record of those discussions. Two facts we learn from allusions

to these proceedings made in following years: first, that Winchelsey

was a prime though concealed mover in all the attacks made upon the

king; and, secondly, that under his advice the earls took another

large step in advance; and, seeing that they were likely to obtain the

perambulations, now asked, under the crafty primate’s instructions, a

further concession, which he well knew the king was not likely to grant.

The _Parliamentary Writs_ give us some insight into the form and order

of public business which had already come into use. Thus, we have

a writ dated “Rose Castle, Sept. 25, 1300,” addressed to Walter of

Gloucester, which recites, “That the said Walter and others had been

assigned to make perambulations of the forests: that the king wishes

to proceed thereon with the advice of the prelates, earls, barons, and

others, without whose counsel the business cannot be duly despatched.

That the king wishes to have a _colloquium_ with the prelates, earls,

barons, and with the rest of the communitas of the kingdom, respecting

the perambulations, and on other arduous affairs concerning the king

and kingdom. The said Walter is therefore enjoined to be before the

king in his parliament at Lincoln, within eight days of Hilary, Jan.

20, 1301, to treat and advise with the prelates and magnates, and

others of the communitas of the kingdom, on the said affairs: and

he is to bring with him all the perambulations made by him and his

fellows, with all documents relating to the same.”

There are also other traces of preparations made by the king for this

discussion. Thus, in the autumn of 1300, we find a writ dated from

“Rose Castle, Sept. 26,” by which the sheriff of Cumberland is enjoined

to send two knights for his county, and representatives from each city

and borough; and to cause them to have their expenses. And also, to

see that proclamation is made, that all who had lands or tenements

within the boundaries of the forests, and who wished to impeach the

perambulation, should appear before the king in his parliament at

Lincoln, to show cause against the same. Another writ is addressed to

the Justice of the Forests north of the Trent, desiring him “to cause

all the foresters in his bailiwick to appear before the king in his

parliament at Lincoln, to give counsel in the premises.”

Next, parliament being assembled, we have the “Bill,” or royal message,

sent down from the king to the prelates, earls, and others, on the 20th

of January so appointed. It is, probably, the first example of such a

document that exists upon our records; and for plainness, directness,

and a wise and conciliatory spirit, it has, we apprehend, seldom been

exceeded.

“The king wills that the perambulations of the forests shall be shown

to the ‘_bones gentz_’ who are come to this parliament. When they shall

have examined the same, and shall have considered the evidence which is

to be produced, the king wills that the perambulation shall stand, if

they advise that it shall be so; and that the king can assent thereunto

without violating his coronation‐oath and disinheriting the crown. If

any matters require to be redressed or changed, let it be done in such

convenient way as they may advise and provide; or, if this please

them not, let some middle way be provided, so that the business may be

settled in a convenient manner; having regard to the dignity of the

crown, which shall not thereby be affected; and so that their oaths,

and the oath of the king, relating to the rights of the crown, may be

saved.”

In the _Parliamentary Writs_, the final result, or conclusion, to

which this parliament seems to have come, is given immediately after

the royal message. In this, however, as in many other similar cases,

the formal record of the business transacted affords but a faint

and imperfect idea of the character of the debates, or of the real

object of the principal movers in the transaction. But, fortunately,

two or three chronicles of the period remain, which are entirely in

agreement with each other, and which show that the turbulent and

ambitious primate had succeeded in forming a powerful and treasonable

confederacy, and in bringing matters to the very verge of a civil war.

The “Chronicle of St. Alban’s” says:—

“The parliament was protracted by numerous disagreements among the

nobles. They had formed a plan to harass the king, and provoke him

to anger, by demanding a right to appoint the chancellor, the chief

justiciary, and the treasurer.” The king is said to have replied,

“Would ye deny us a right which every one of you enjoys? Each head of

a house among you has power over that house. Why do ye not demand the

crown itself?—you might as well do that as make it a shadow. In your

own households ye may prefer—ye may pass over—ye may depose this man

or that. And would ye deny us the same right? Nay, truly, the king

shall appoint his chancellor, his justiciary, his treasurer, during

his own pleasure; _or else king we will not be_.” He added, “If our

justiciary or any officer shall do unjustly, and the offence is not

punished, then, indeed, complain if ye will.”—“Straightway,” continues

the chronicler, “those who had urged the demand blushed. Many, however,

preferred the _confederacy_ and war to peace, and this preference did

not escape the king’s notice; but when the nobles generally saw how

vain their demands were, they humbled themselves before the king, and

asked pardon for their presumption.”

Of the same transactions Peter Langtoft gives this account:—

“The erles and barons at their first summoning,

For many manner reasons ’plained to the king.

* * * * *

And next they made plaint of his Treasorere;

That evil things attaint he maintained thro’ power.

‘Of many has it been told; to thee we ’plain us here;

Him for to remove through common assent.

Assign it for more prow (honour) to this parlement;

That can that office give, and do the right usage.’

* * * * *

The king’s answer was smart: ‘I see ye will,

Thro’ pride of heart, revile me with unskille:

And so low me to chace, mine officers to change,

And make them at your grace;—that were me over strange.

There is none of you, but he will at his might

Have sergeants for his prow, withouten other sight.

Shall no man put through skille his lord lower than he;

Ne I nor shall nor will, while I your king shall be.

If any of mine make strife, or taken thing not right,

* * * * *

That wrong I will so mende, if that it be attaint,

That none shall come or send, to make more plaint.

* * * * *

The parties were so felle altercande on ilk side,

That none could easily tell, whether war or peace would tide.

But God that is of might, and may help when He will,

For both the parties dight, and put them in his skille.”

We gather, then, from these two contemporary writers that a confederacy

had been formed, and that even civil war was contemplated by some of

the parties. But what occasion, what provocation had the king given for

any such extreme and violent course? For several years past, powerful

and courageous as he undoubtedly was, his whole course had been one

of concession. First, the two earls, disliking the war in Flanders,

begged him to excuse them, and to appoint substitutes in their room. He

accepted their excuses, and appointed substitutes. They then sent after

him to Flanders a request that he would add a new and important clause

to Magna Charta, and also would pardon their offences. He granted

both of these requests. Next, remembering that they had complained of

offences committed by the officers of the forests, he issues, on his

return home, a commission to inquire into this matter.[111] Their next

demand is for a new perambulation of the forests. This, as a direct

aggression, excites his anger; but, after a little consideration, he

issues writs conceding this point also. And now he meets his parliament

with a mass of “reports of perambulations,” and desires them, in the

most conciliatory manner, to counsel him whether they think that these

perambulations should stand and be accepted, or whether they desire any

other course to be taken. What, then, in the king’s whole conduct had

given any ground or provocation for this “confederacy,” in which even

civil war was contemplated? Clearly, nothing.

Yet the fact, which is thus briefly stated in the “St. Alban’s

Chronicle,” is confirmed by three other documents. In Leland’s

“Collectanea” we find extracts from “Pakington’s Chronicle,” one of

which runs thus (under the date of 1302): “There was opened to king

Edward _a conspiracy_, wrought by the archbishop of Canterbury and

divers counts and barons against him.” Again, _William Thorn_, a

monk of Canterbury, narrating Edward’s speech to Winchelsey, when

he remitted him to the pope, states the king to have reminded the

archbishop of “_the treason_ which at our parliament at Lincoln you

plotted against us.” And, in 1305, Edward, in issuing a new “ordinance

of the forest,” says in it that “he was minded that the perambulation

should stand, _albeit that the thing was sued and demanded in an evil

point_.” Thus, again and again we find traces of the fact which is

stated in the “St. Alban’s Chronicle,” that the archbishop and some

of the barons had entered into a “confederacy,” in which war (_i.e._,

rebellion) was seriously contemplated as possible.

Edward’s firmness, moderation, and skill, however, proved more than a

match for Winchelsey, and finally extricated him from this perilous

situation. While he utterly rejected the demand that he should give

up the nomination of his own ministers, and so make the crown a mere

shadow, he himself proposed a middle course. Langtoft described him as

saying—

“Of this I grant this morn, that ye trie this thing

With six‐and‐twenty sworn,—if I to your asking

May accorde right well, the crowne for to save

Dismembered not a whit,—your asking ye shall have.

“The wisest of the clergie, with erles and barons,

Together went, to trie of their petitions.”

The Life and Reign of Edward I. · 第 17 / 26 段