of his greatness; his descent was rapid beyond the calculation of the
most sanguine among his enemies. He had hitherto enjoyed the
coöperation of the powerful earls of Derby and Gloucester; but, if he
was too ambitious to admit of an equal, they were too proud to bow to
a fellow-subject. Frequent altercations betrayed their secret
jealousies; and the sudden arrest and imprisonment of Derby, on a
charge of corresponding with the royalists, warned Gloucester of his
own danger. He would have shared the captivity of his friends had he
assisted at the great tournament at Northampton; but by his absence he
disconcerted the plans of his enemy, and, recalling Mortimer and the
exiles, unfurled the royal standard in the midst of his tenantry.
Leicester immediately hastened to Hereford with the King, the Prince,
and a numerous body of knights. To prevent the effusion of blood their
common friends intervened; a reconciliation was effected, and four
umpires undertook the task of reconciling their differences. But under
this appearance of friendship all was hollow and insincere. Leicester
sought to circumvent his adversary; Gloucester waited the result of a
plan for the liberation of Edward, which had been concerted through
the means of Thomas de Clare, brother to the Earl, and companion to
the Prince.
One day after dinner Edward obtained permission to take the air
without the walls of Hereford, attended by his keepers. They rode to
Widmarsh. A proposal was made to try the speed of their horses;
several matches were made and run; and the afternoon was passed in a
succession of amusements. A little before sunset there appeared on
Tulington hill a person riding on a gray charger and waving his
bonnet. The Prince, who knew the signal, bidding adieu to the company,
instantly galloped off with his friend, another knight, and four
esquires. The keepers followed; but in a short time Mortimer, with a
band of armed men, issued from a wood, received Edward with
acclamations of joy, and conducted him to his castle of Wigmore. The
next day the Prince met the Earl of Gloucester at Ludlow. They
mutually pledged themselves to forget all former injuries, and to
unite their efforts for the liberation of the King, on condition that
he should govern according to the laws, and should exclude foreigners
from his councils.
When Leicester received the news of Edward's escape, he conceived that
the prince was gone to join the Earl Warenne, and William de Valence,
who a few days before had landed with one hundred and twenty knights
on the coast of Pembrokeshire. Ignorant, however, of his real motions,
he dared not pursue him; but issued writs in the King's name, ordering
the military tenants of the Crown to assemble at first in Worcester,
and afterward in Gloucester. To these he added circular letters to the
bishops, accusing Edward of rebellion, and requesting a sentence of
excommunication against all disturbers of the peace "from the highest
to the lowest." The royalists had wisely determined to cut off his
communication with the rest of the kingdom by securing to themselves
the command of the Severn. Worcester readily opened its gates;
Gloucester was taken by storm; and the castle, after a siege of two
weeks, was surrendered on condition that the garrison should not serve
again during the next forty days. Every bridge was now broken down;
the small craft on the river was sunk or destroyed; and the fords were
either deepened or watched by powerful detachments. Leicester, caught
as it were in the toils, remained inactive at Hereford; but he awaited
the arrival of the troops whom he had summoned, and concluded with
Llewellyn of Wales a treaty of alliance, by which, for the pretended
payment of thirty thousand marks, Henry was made to resign all the
advantages which he and his predecessors had wrested from the princes
of that country. At last, reinforced by a party of Welshmen, the Earl
marched to the south, took and destroyed the castle of Monmouth, and
fixed his head-quarters at Newport. Here he expected a fleet of
transports to convey him to Bristol; but the galleys of the Earl of
Gloucester blockaded the mouth of the Avon; and Edward, with the
bravest of his knights, made an attempt on the town of Newport itself.
The part which lay on the left bank of the Usk was carried; but the
destruction of the bridge arrested the progress of the victors, and
Leicester, with his dispirited followers, escaped into Wales.
Misfortune now pressed on misfortune; and the last anchor of his hope
was broken by the defeat of his son Simon of Montfort. That young
nobleman was employed in the siege of Pevensey, on the coast of
Sussex, when he received the King's writ to repair to Worcester. On
his march he sacked the city of Winchester, the gates of which had
been shut against him, passed peaceably through Oxford, and reached
the castle of Kenilworth, the principal residence of his family. Here
he remained for some days in heedless security, awaiting the orders of
his father. Margot, a woman who in male attire performed the office of
a spy, informed the Prince that Simon lay in the priory, and his
followers in the neighboring farmhouses. Edward immediately formed the
design of surprising them in their beds; and marching from Worcester
in the evening, arrived at Kenilworth about sunrise the next morning.
Twelve bannerets with all their followers were made prisoners; and
their horses and treasures repaid the industry of the captors. Simon
alone with his pages escaped naked into the castle.
Leicester on the same day had crossed the Severn by a ford, and halted
at Kempsey, about three miles from Worcester. Happy to find himself at
last on the left bank of the river, and ignorant of the fate of his
son and the motions of the enemy, he proceeded to Evesham, with the
intention of continuing his march the next morning for Kenilworth. The
Prince had returned with his prisoners to Worcester, but left the city
in the evening, and, to mask his real design, took the road which
leads to Bridgenorth. He passed the river near Clains, and, wheeling
to the right, arrived before sunrise in the neighborhood of Evesham.
He took his station on the summit of a hill in the direction of
Kenilworth; two other divisions, under the Earl of Gloucester and
Roger de Mortimer, occupied the remaining roads. As the royalists bore
the banners of their captives, they were taken by the enemy for the
army of Simon de Montfort. But the mistake was soon discovered.
Leicester, from an eminence, surveyed their numbers and disposition,
and was heard to exclaim, "The Lord have mercy on our souls, for our
bodies are Prince Edward's." According to his custom he spent some
time in prayer, and received the sacrament. His first object was to
force his way through the division on the hill. Foiled in this
attempt, and in danger of being surrounded, he ordered his men to form
a circle, and oppose on all sides the pressure of the enemy. For a
while the courage of despair proved a match for the superiority of
numbers. The old King, who had been compelled to appear in the ranks,
was slightly wounded, and as he fell from his horse would probably
have been killed had he not cried out to his antagonist, "Hold,
fellow! I am Harry of Winchester." The Prince knew the voice of his
father, sprang to his rescue, and conducted him to a place of safety.
During his absence Leicester's horse was killed under him; and, as he
fought on foot, he asked if they gave quarter. A voice replied, "There
is no quarter for traitors." Henry de Montfort, his eldest son, who
would not leave his side, fell at his feet. His dead body was soon
covered by that of the father. The royalists obtained a complete but
sanguinary victory. Of Leicester's partisans all the barons and
knights were slain, with the exception of about ten, who were
afterward found breathing, and were cured of their wounds. The foot
soldiers of the royal army--so we are told to save the honor of the
leaders--offered to the body of the earl every indignity. His mangled
remains were afterward collected by the King's orders and buried in
the church of the abbey.
By this victory the sceptre was replaced in the hands of Henry. With
their leader, the hopes of the barons had been extinguished: they
spontaneously set at liberty the prisoners who had been detained since
the battle of Lewes, and anxiously awaited the determination of the
Parliament, which had been summoned to meet at Winchester. In that
assembly it was enacted that all grants and patents issued under the
King's seal during the time of his captivity should be revoked; that
the citizens of London, for their obstinacy and excesses, should
forfeit their charter; that the Countess of Leicester and her family
should quit the kingdom; and that the estates of all who had adhered
to the late earl should be confiscated. The rigor of the last article
was afterward softened by a declaration, in which the King granted a
free pardon to those who could show that their conduct had not been
voluntary, but the effect of compulsion. These measures, however, were
not calculated to restore the public tranquillity. The sufferers,
prompted by revenge, or compelled by want, had again recourse to the
sword; the mountains, forests, and morasses furnished them with places
of retreat; and the flames of predatory warfare were kindled in most
parts of the kingdom. To reduce these partial but successive
insurrections occupied Prince Edward the greater part of two years. He
first compelled Simon de Montfort and his associates, who had sought
an asylum in the Isle of Axholm, to submit to the award which should
be given by himself and the King of the Romans. He next led his forces
against the men of the Cinque Ports, who had long been distinguished
by their attachment to Leicester, and who since his fall had, by their
piracies, interrupted the commerce of the narrow seas, and made prizes
of all ships belonging to the King's subjects. The capture of
Winchelsea, which was carried by storm, taught them to respect the
authority of the sovereign; and their power by sea made the Prince
desirous to recall them to their duty and attach them to the crown.
They swore fealty to Henry; and in return obtained a full pardon and
the confirmation of their privileges. From the Cinque Ports Edward
proceeded to Hampshire, which, with Berkshire and the neighboring
counties, was ravaged by numerous banditti, under the command of Adam
Gordon, the most athletic man of the age. They were surprised in Alton
Wood, in Buckinghamshire. The Prince engaged in single combat with
their leader, wounded and unhorsed him, and then, in reward of his
valor, granted him his pardon. Still the garrison of Kenilworth
continued to brave the royal power, and even added contumely to their
disobedience. Having in one of their excursions taken a king's
messenger, they cut off one of his hands, and sent him back with an
insolent message to Henry. To subdue these obstinate rebels it was
necessary to summon the chivalry of the kingdom; but the strength of
the place defied all the efforts of the assailants; and the obstinacy
of Hastings the governor refused for six months every offer which was
made to him in the name of his sovereign.
There were many, even among the royalists, who disapproved of the
indiscriminate severity exercised by the parliament at Winchester; and
a possibility was suggested of granting indulgence to the sufferers,
and at the same time satisfying those who had profited by their
forfeitures. With this view a committee was appointed of twelve
prelates and barons, whose award was confirmed by the King in
parliament, and called the _Dictum de Kenilworth_. They divided the
delinquents into three classes. In the first were the Earl of Derby,
Hugh de Hastings, who had earned his preëminence by his superior
ferocity, and the persons who had so insolently mutilated the King's
messenger. The second comprised all who on different occasions had
drawn the sword against their sovereign; and in the third were
numbered those who, though they had not fought under the banner, had
accepted office under the authority, of Leicester. To all was given
the option of redeeming their estates by the payment to the actual
possessors of certain sums of money, to the amount of seven years'
value by delinquents of the first class, of five by those of the
second, and of two years or one year by those of the third. By many
the boon was accepted with gratitude: it was scornfully refused by the
garrison of the castle of Kenilworth and by the outlaws who had fled
to the Isle of Ely. The obstinacy of the former was subdued by famine;
and they obtained from the clemency of the King the grant of their
lives, limbs, and apparel. The latter, relying on the strength of
their asylum, gloried in their rebellion, and occasionally ravaged the
neighboring country. Their impunity was, however, owing to the perfidy
of the Earl of Gloucester, who, without the talents, aspired to the
fame and preëminence, of his deceased rival. He expressed his
disapprobation of the award; the factious inhabitants of London chose
him for their leader; and his presumption was nourished by the daily
accession of outlaws from different parts of the country. Henry
summoned his friends to the siege of the capital; and the Earl, when
he beheld from the walls the royal army, and reflected on the
consequences of a defeat, condemned his own temerity, accepted the
mediation of the King of the Romans, and on the condition of receiving
a full pardon, gladly returned to his duty, leaving at the same time
the citizens to the good pleasure of the King. His submission drew
after it the submission of the other insurgents. If Llewellyn remained
in arms, it was only with the hope of extorting more favorable terms.
The title of Prince of Wales with a right to the homage of the Welsh
chieftains satisfied his ambition; and he consented to swear fealty to
Henry, and to pay him the sum of twenty-five thousand marks. The
restoration of tranquillity allowed the King to direct his attention
to the improvement of his people. He condescended to profit by the
labors of his adversaries; and some of the most useful among the
provisions of the barons were with other laws enacted by legitimate
authority in a parliament at Marlborough. To crown this important
work, and to extinguish, if it were possible, the very embers of
discontent, the clergy were brought forward with a grant of the
twentieth of their revenues, as a fund which might enable those who
had been prevented by poverty to redeem their estates according to the
decision of the arbitrators at Kenilworth. The outlaws in the Isle of
Ely were also reduced. The King's poverty had disabled him from
undertaking offensive measures against them: but a grant of the tenth
part of the church revenues for three years, which he had obtained
from the Pope, infused new vigor into his councils; bridges were
thrown over the rivers; roads were constructed across the marshes; and
the rebels returned to their obedience on condition that they should
enjoy the benefit of the Dictum of Kenilworth, which they had so
contemptuously and obstinately refused.
LOUIS IX LEADS THE LAST CRUSADE
A.D. 1270
JOSEPH FRANÇOIS MICHAUD
Louis IX, King of France, 1226-1270, was at once a monarch
of great ability and a man of intense religious spirit.
Naturally, in such a time as that of his reign, a man like
Louis would be a crusader. His first expedition--called the
Seventh Crusade, 1248-1254--was directed against Egypt. He
captured Damietta in 1249 and pushed into the interior, but
was defeated by the Egyptian Sultan and taken prisoner with
his entire army. He was liberated on the surrender of
Damietta and the payment of a large ransom, and in 1254 he
returned to France.
The state of Europe meanwhile had become unfavorable to
further prosecution of the crusades, and Louis was the only
monarch who longer took a serious interest in the fate of
the Christian colonies of Asia. He also wished to avenge the
honor of the French arms in Egypt, and so at length he
planned a new expedition against the Moslems in that
country. But he long kept this purpose a secret "between God
and himself." Louis consulted Pope Clement IV, who at first
tried to discourage the perilous enterprise; but finally the
Pontiff gave his approval, and while admitting no others as
yet into his designs, Louis quietly made preparation and
awaited the favorable hour.
At last, the great Parliament of France being assembled in
the hall of the Louvre, the King entered, bearing in his
hand the crown of thorns of Christ. At sight of this, the
whole assembly became aware of the monarch's intentions,
which he now fully made known, exhorting all who heard him
to take the cross. A sad surprise fell upon the reluctant
parliament; but Louis was strongly seconded by the Pope's
legate, and many of the prelates, nobles, and knights
received the cross.
Notwithstanding the deep regret which spread among his
people, who felt the need of their sovereign's presence for
keeping peace and order in the kingdom, and also feared for
his own safety--his health being greatly impaired--there was
profound respect for the motives of Louis and general
acquiescence in his determination. Among many this
resignation gave place to zealous devotion, and "the warlike
nobility of the kingdom only thought of following their King
in an expedition which was already looked upon as
unfortunate." Final preparations were accordingly made for
Louis' undertaking.
While all France was engaged in preparing for the expedition beyond
the seas, the crusade was preached in the other countries of Europe. A
council was held at Northampton, in England, in which Ottobon, the
Pope's legate, exhorted the faithful to arm themselves to save the
little that remained of the kingdom of Jerusalem; and Prince Edward
took the cross, to discharge the vow that his father, Henry III, had
made when the news reached Europe of the captivity of Louis IX in
Egypt. After the example of Edward, his brother, Prince Edmund, with
the earls of Pembroke and Warwick, and many knights and barons, agreed
to take arms against the infidels. The same zeal for the deliverance
of the holy places was manifested in Scotland, when John Baliol and
several nobles enrolled themselves under the banners of the cross.
Cataloni and Castile furnished a great number of crusaders; the King
of Portugal, and James, King of Aragon, took the cross. Doña Sancha,
one of the daughters of the Aragonese prince, had made a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem, and had died in the hospital of St. John, after devoting
many years to the service of pilgrims and the sick. James had several
times conquered the Moors, but neither his exploits against the
infidels nor the remembrance of a daughter who had fallen a martyr to
Christian charity could sustain his piety against the attacks of his
earthly passions, and his shameful connection with Berengaria
scandalized Christendom.
The Pope, to whom he communicated his design of going to the Holy
Land, replied that Jesus Christ could not accept the services of a
prince who crucified him every day by his sins. The King of Aragon, by
a strange combination of opposite sentiments, would neither renounce
Berengaria nor give up his project of going to fight against the
infidels in the East. He renewed his oath in a great assembly at
Toledo, at which the ambassadors of the Khan of Tartary and of the
King of Armenia were present. We read, in a Spanish dissertation upon
the crusades, that Alfonso the Wise, who was not able to go to the
East himself, furnished the King of Aragon with a hundred men and a
hundred thousand marvedis in gold; the Order of St. James, and other
orders of knighthood, who had often accompanied the conqueror of the
Moors in his battles, supplied him also with men and money. The city
of Barcelona offered him eighty thousand Barcelonese sols, and Majorca
fifty thousand silver sols, with two equipped vessels. The fleet,
composed of thirty large ships, and a great number of smaller craft,
in which were embarked eight hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot
soldiers, set out from Barcelona on the 4th of September, 1268. When
they arrived off Majorca, the fleet was dispersed by a tempest; one
part of the vessels gained the coasts of Asia, another took shelter in
the ports of Sardinia, the vessel that the King of Arragon was on
board of was cast upon the coast of Languedoc.
The arrival at Ptolemais of the Aragonese crusaders, commanded by a
natural son of James, restored some hopes to the Franks of Palestine.
An envoy from the King of Aragon, according to the oriental
chronicles, repaired to the Khan of the Tartars, to announce to him
that the Spanish monarch would soon arrive with his army. But whether
he was detained by the charms of Berengaria, or whether the tempest
that dispersed his fleet made him believe that heaven was averse to
his pilgrimage, James did not arrive. His departure, in which he
appeared to despise the counsels of the holy see, had been severely
censured; and his return, which was attributed to his disgraceful
passion, met with an equal share of blame. Murmurs likewise arose
against the King of Portugal, who had levied the tenths, but did not
leave his kingdom.
All those who in Europe took an interest in the crusade, had, at this
time, their eyes directed toward the kingdom of Naples, where Charles
of Anjou was making great preparations to accompany his brother into
the East; but this kingdom, recently conquered, was doomed again to be
the theatre of a war kindled by vengeance and ambition. There fell out
in the states of Naples and Sicily, which had so often changed
masters, that which almost always takes place after a revolution:
deceived hopes were changed into hatreds; the excesses inseparable
from a conquest, the presence of an army proud of its victories, with
the too violent government of Charles, animated the people against
their new King.
Clement IV thought it his duty to give a timely and salutary warning.
"Your kingdom," he wrote to him, "at first exhausted by the agents of
your authority, is now torn by your enemies; thus the caterpillar
destroys what has escaped the grasshopper. The kingdom of Sicily and
Naples has not been wanting in men to desolate it; where now are they
that will defend it?" This letter of the Pope's announced storms ready
to break forth. Many of those who had called Charles to the throne
regretted the house of Swabia, and directed their new hopes toward
Italy, strengthening Conradin, heir of Frederick and of Conrad. This
young Prince quitted Germany with an army and advanced toward Italy,
strengthening himself in his march with the party of the Ghibellines,
and with all those whom the domination of Charles had irritated. All
Italy was in flames, and the Pope, Charles' protector, retired to
Viterbo, had no defence to afford him, except only the thunders of the
Church.
Charles of Anjou, however, now assembled his troops, and marched out
to meet his rival. The two armies met in the plain of St. Valentine,
near Aquila; the army of Conradin was cut to pieces, and the young
Prince fell into the power of the conqueror. Posterity cannot pardon
Charles for having abused his victory here so far as to condemn and
decapitate his disarmed and vanquished enemy. After this execution,
Sicily and the country of Naples were given up to all the furies of a
jealous, suspicious tyranny, for violence produces violence, and great
political crimes never come alone. It was thus that Charles got ready
for the crusade; but, on the other hand, Providence was preparing
terrible catastrophes for him. "So true it is," says a historian,
"that God as often gives kingdoms to punish those he elevates as to
chastise those whom he brings low."