THE CORONATION.
Nearly a century had elapsed since an occasion like the present had called
together the different ranks and orders of the English population. Native
Britons, Saxons, Danes and Normans, hereditary enemies, had, by years of
unavoidable intercourse, and by a community of interests, been fused into
one mass, and now vied with each other in manifesting their loyalty to a
king in whose veins mingled the several streams of the great Scandinavian
race. The independent Franklin, the stout yeoman from the country, and the
rich citizen and industrious artisan, the curious vassal, the stately
knight, and lordly baron, alike instinct with love for feasting and
holiday show, hastened to witness the ceremony.
The coronation of John had been unpopular, both from the well known
malevolence of his disposition and the rival claims of his injured nephew.
That of Henry III. took place in a remote part of the kingdom, when a
portion of the island was in the possession of the French, and the minds
of the people were distracted between a fear of foreigners and a
detestation of the reigning family. Not a man in the realm, therefore,
could remember so grand a spectacle as the coronation of Edward and the
beautiful Eleanora of Castile.
When the crown was placed upon their heads by the Archbishop of
Canterbury, a murmur of joy arose from the assembled throngs; but when the
herald stood forth and proclaimed an _indemnity_ to all those who had been
engaged in the civil commotions of the former reign, and the repeal of the
cruel statutes, that had made so many worthy citizens outlaws and aliens
in the sight of their English homes, the enraptured multitude made the
welkin ring with shouts of--Long live King Edward!--Long live our gracious
Queen Eleanora!
Tears dimmed the beautiful eyes of the gratified queen, for she read in
the enthusiastic acclamations with which the act of Indemnity was
received, an incontrovertible testimony to the wisdom of the course she
had so warmly advocated, and an earnest of the peace which this display of
her husband's magnanimity would secure to his realm.
Foremost among those who hailed his accession, Edward discerned the
commanding figure of the outlaw, who had so long and so successfully
eluded his search. No sooner was he seated upon his throne, than he
commissioned the lord-high seneschal to cause the mysterious personage to
approach. As he came forward, and knelt at the monarch's feet, Eleanora
recognized the tall knight to whom she owed her own life and her husband's
liberty, and heard him with more pleasure than surprise announced as
Dermot de la Clare.
"Rise, noble Clare!" exclaimed Edward, "to thee thy monarch owes his life
and the security of his realm, and the honors and titles of thy house are
henceforth restored, to which we add the forfeited manors of Leicester,
not more a recompense for thy knightly service than a guerdon for the
sweet affection of thy lovely daughter." Scarcely had Earl Dermot retired
among the nobles, who crowded around him with words of congratulation,
when the monarch summoned Henry de Courtenay, and, in consideration of his
services in the holy wars, created him Earl of Devon--whispering aside to
the conscious noble, "Our gracious queen, who excelleth in charity, will
give thee pity and dole of that which she hath in royal keeping, and for
which thou wilt doubtless be more grateful than for all the lands of which
we have this day made thee lord."
Other faithful vassals of the crown were rewarded, and then the joyous
multitude adjourned to the feasting and games, with which the day was
closed; and the marriage of Eva and Sir Henry, which took place the
following day, added another fete to the coronation festivities.
Among the various disorders to which the kingdom had fallen a prey during
the weak and uncertain rule of Henry III., none excited more universal
dissatisfaction, than the adulteration of the coin. As the Jews were the
principal money-lenders in the kingdom all embarrassments of this kind,
were by common consent attributed to their characteristic avarice.
Edward's crusade to the Holy Land, had not softened his prejudices towards
this people, who, more than the Infidels poured contempt upon the rites of
Christianity. In his zeal for the public welfare he proscribed the
obnoxious race and confiscated their estates to the crown, and banished no
less than fifteen thousand valuable inhabitants from the kingdom.
Notwithstanding these rigorous measures he still retained in his employ
certain of the hated sect to assist in the correction of the currency.
The trivial circumstance of a change in the form of the penny gave rise to
some of the most important occurrences that transpired during his eventful
reign.
The Welsh, deriving their ancestry from the early Britons, placed the most
implicit confidence in the prophecies of Merlin, which in an oracular
manner set forth the destiny of the nation. One of these half-forgotten
traditions, asserted that when the English penny should become round, a
prince, born in Wales, should be the acknowledged king of the whole
British island. No sooner, therefore, had the new coin begun to circulate
west of the Menai, than the bards commenced to ring their changes upon the
mysterious circumstance, and to inflate the minds of their countrymen with
the hopes of conquest. The successes of Llewellyn, their prince, in
reconquering all the territory that had been wrested from them by the
Normans, gave great encouragement to their ambition.
Not availing himself of the act of indemnity the Welsh prince still
maintained his allegiance to the party of the Montforts, and was plotting
with the remaining adherents of that powerful faction for assistance from
France. To intercept these hostile communications, Edward ordered his
fleet into the channel under the command of Earl Dermot de la Clare, both
to testify a regard for the Irish noble, and a confidence in his
abilities. De Courtenay was residing with his bride at Exeter, when he
received intelligence that the Earl of Clare was on his way to pay them a
visit, and the following day Eva welcomed her father to her new home. The
earl was accompanied by a lady whom he intrusted to his daughter's care,
desiring that she might be kept in safety till Edward's pleasure
concerning her should be known. At first the fair captive was
inconsolable, but she at length found some alleviation of her grief in
recounting her eventful history in the sympathizing ear of Eva, now
Marchioness of Devon. The Lady Eleanora was the only daughter of Simon de
Montfort, and inherited the firm and relentless characteristics of her
house, which the sedulous instructions of her mother Eleanor Plantagenet
had somewhat softened and subdued. Her brother Guy, having gained
absolution from the terrible malediction of the church, had sought to
carry out his plans of vengeance by making an alliance with the Welsh, and
to cement the treaty, he had consented to bestow his sister upon
Llewellyn, and the young lady was on her way to meet her bridegroom when
her vessel was intercepted, and herself made prisoner by Earl Clare. Her
position as the prospective Queen of Wales more than the enmity of her
brother, made her fear the severity of her cousin, the King of England,
but Eva assured her that the sentiments of Edward were characterized by
the most generous chivalry, and that no feelings of malice or revenge
could actuate him to any ungallant procedure against her. Notwithstanding
the confidence with which Eva made this asseveration, the fair bride of
Llewellyn listened with a faint smile of incredulity, and answered with a
sigh, "Ah! lady, the poor daughter of de Montfort covets thine ignorance
of the dark passions that rankle in the human breast!" "Thy fair young
face gives little evidence of experience in worldly ills," returned Eva,
with some surprise. "Events, not years, confer experience," replied Elin,
"and young as I am, I have marked cherished resentment ripen into deadly
enmity. The unjust aspersion of Henry III. wrought upon the mind of my
father, till it well nigh ruined the broad realm of England. Thou canst
never know the bitter sorrow that weighed upon my mother's heart during
all the cruel strife between her husband and her brother. I well
remember," said the agitated girl, proceeding impetuously with her sad
reminiscences, "the fatal day of Evesham--how, chilled with fear at my
mother's agony, I laid aside my childish sports and crept cowering to a
corner of her apartment in Kenilworth castle, while she paced the floor
beseeching heaven alternately to spare her husband and save her brother.
O! it was terrible," added she, pressing her hands upon her eyes, while
the tears gushed between her fingers, "when my brother Guy rushed in with
the tidings of our father's defeat and death, and took his awful oath of
vengeance." "Speak not of it," exclaimed Eva, shuddering in her turn at
the recollection of the murder of young Henry, and the subsequent anathema
pronounced upon Sir Guy. "It is little pleasure to recall these dreadful
scenes," said Elin, gloomily, "but thou mayst learn from my brief history
how little hope I have in one who aspires to power or has aught to
revenge." "But her gracious majesty Queen Eleanora," said Eva, "will
delight to soothe thy sorrows, and the sweet companionship of her
daughters will win thee to happier thoughts." "Nay, sweet lady, think me
not ungrateful that I cannot trust thy kind presages. Whether it be a
retribution, I know not, but since my grandsire's crusade against the
Albigeois, evil has been the lot of our house. Hope, that seems ever to
light the pathway of the young, hath never smiled on me." This despondency
continued to depress the mind of the captive during all the period of her
residence at Exeter, nor could Eva's ingenuity in devising schemes for her
diversion, nor hopeful predictions concerning her future happiness with
Llewellyn lure her to happier thoughts. But the courteous manner of
Edward, when he came to receive his cousin and conduct her to Windsor,
confirmed these promises; and the unaffected kindness of Eleanora, while
it soothed her afflictions, had the effect to awaken some degree of
confidence in the mind of the despairing maiden.
The capture of his bride infuriated Llewellyn beyond all bounds, and led
him to invade England with the fiercest valor. His efforts were repulsed
by the gallant conduct of the troops under the command of the Earl of
Devon, and after four years of fruitless endeavor he consented to the
required homage, and came to Worcester to claim his bride.
The cherishing sympathy of Eleanora had not been lost upon the heart of
her stricken ward, and these years of tranquillity, the first the orphan
Elin had enjoyed, so enhanced to her mind the blessings of peaceful
security that she steadfastly refused to fulfil her engagement with
Llewellyn, without his solemn pledge of continued amity to the English
nation. When the bridegroom finding all other expedients in vain consented
to the required homage, the King of England gave away his fair kinswoman
with his own hand, and Eleanora supported the bride at the altar and
presided at the nuptial feast with the affability and grace so peculiarly
her own. The Prince and Princess of Wales then accompanied their suzerains
to London and performed the stipulated ceremony, the Snowdon barons
looking on fiercely the while, with the air of warriors who were resigning
their ancient rights. This discontent gave rise to various murmurings.
They disdained the English bread, they were disgusted with the milk of
stall-fed kine, they detested the acridity of the London porter, and they
pined for the sparkling mead concocted from the honeyed sweets gathered
from their own breezy hills. They saw that their national costume and
dialect conferred an uncomfortable notoriety upon them, and they more than
suspected that they were the objects of jeering contempt. They therefore
endured with great impatience the protracted entertainments with which
Edward honored his guests, and finally left their uncomfortable quarters
murmuring with stifled imprecations, "We will never more visit Islington
except as conquerors." The unremitting influence of Elin, notwithstanding,
counteracted the complaints of the malcontents, and Llewellyn religiously
maintained friendly relations with England during her brief life. This
interval of uninterrupted peace was employed by Eleanora in prompting her
husband to measures for the public good, and England long enjoyed through
the wise administration of her beneficent sovereign a respite from those
evils under which the nation had groaned since the Norman conquest. By a
royal patent Edward erected boroughs within the demesne lands and
conferred upon them liberty of trade, and profiting by the example of
Leicester, permitted them to send representatives to parliament, which was
the true epoch of the House of Commons--the first dawn of popular
government in England. The lower or more industrious orders of the state
were thus encouraged and protected, and an interest in the commonwealth
diffused through all the ranks of society.