A Popular History of England, From the Earliest Times to the Reign of Queen Victoria; Vol. I

Chapter IX.

Chapter 126,278 wordsPublic domain

King And Barons. Henry III. (1216-1272.)

King John was buried when his young son was crowned at Gloucester, on the 28th of October, 1216, by the Pope's legate. He was ten years of age at the time, and his feeble hands confirmed without resistance the gift which his father had made to Rome of the kingdom of England. {219} It was the vassal of the Church, who in the month of November, 1216, was confided to the care of the Earl of Pembroke, the most formidable of the barons who had remained faithful to King John, by reason of his orderly and prudent character, for he was as devoted to the liberties of his country as the barons who had mustered round the banner of Prince Louis. He was nominated "Protector" of the kingdom and of the king, and his first care was to make a revision of Magna Charta; he eliminated the temporary articles; confirmed a great number of clauses; others remained pending until the raising of a more numerous army; and the earl directed all his efforts against the French prince and his foreign adherents. The favors and good graces of the Protector drew to him all the barons who were deserting the French prince, and they were becoming every day more numerous. Their enmity had died out at the death of King John; the child who had just been crowned was their legitimate sovereign, descended from the kings whom they had loved and served. Louis saw his army rapidly decreasing; in consequence of the vigorous resistance of Hubert de Burgh, he had been unable to obtain possession of Dover Castle, which he had been besieging for some time. In vain had they endeavored to seduce him from his duty, by urging that the king to whom he had sworn allegiance was dead. "The king has left children," he answered, and Louis raised the siege to return to London, which still remained true to him. An armistice soon allowed him to go to France to collect reinforcements; but, in his absence, the insolence of Enguerrand of Coucy, whom he had left at the head of affairs, was spreading discontent, and the forces of the national party sprang up so rapidly that the prince, attacked on the sea by the sailors of the Cinque Ports, found some difficulty in returning to England. An army corps under the command of the Count of Perche was defeated by the Protector in the very streets of Lincoln, and the anathemas of Rome began to pour down upon Prince Louis and his adherents, who were excommunicated in a mass.

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Louis was shut up in London, surrounded by his enemies; he asked for help from France, but his father, Philip-Augustus, would not become concerned in a quarrel with the Pope, and did not dare to act openly in his son's favor. It was Louis's wife, Blanche of Castile, who succeeded in raising considerable forces, which she sent to him under the care of a chief of adventurers named Eustace the Monk, because he had escaped from his monastery. The French fleet met Hubert de Burgh on the high seas. The struggle began. Eustace the Monk was defeated, and afterwards beheaded on the poop of his vessel. Hubert de Burgh returned triumphantly to Dover with his prizes.

This last check was the death-blow of Louis's cause in England. On the 11th of September, 1217, a treaty of peace was signed at Lambeth, granting easy conditions to the French prince, and a full pardon to his English adherents. The Protector had no other desire than to put an end to the struggle and to see England delivered from the foreigners; in spite of its prolonged resistance the city of London even obtained a confirmation of its privileges. Louis set sail in the middle of September, and his more distinguished partisans were kindly received at King Henry's court; Magna Charta was again confirmed, not, however, without some modifications favorable to the royal prerogative; the clauses relating to the protection of the forests were included in a special charter called the "Forest Charter," which rendered less severe the Norman legislation as to hunting and the edicts which related to it. {221} The wisdom and moderation of Pembroke prevailed in the councils; the Queen-mother, Isabel, had fled from England in the midst of the confusion, and her first husband, the Count of Marche, had just been solemnly remarried to her; the legate remained with the young prince, and was instructed by the Pope to look after the interests of the vassal of the Church as well as those of the Suzerain mistress of England. Order seemed to have been re-established, when the Protector died (May, 1219), and the power which was afterwards divided between Hubert de Burgh and Pierre des Roches, bishop of Winchester, became a bone of contention to the rivals and the barons attached to either party. Habits of insubordination, which had been developed during the long struggle against arbitrary power, had borne their fruit. England was rent asunder by internal quarrels which it was not even hoped would end on the king's attaining his majority, for Henry III. grew up without becoming a man. Absorbed in the love of luxury and pageantry, in the songs of minstrels and the masterpieces of the sculptors or of the artists with whom he loved to surround himself, he appeared to take no interest in his affairs, and displayed no war-like inclinations, but left the barons to quarrel among themselves and the Italian priests to devour the substance of his kingdom, without manifesting any desire to find a remedy. France was suffering from the evils of a minority. Louis VII., who had succeeded Philip-Augustus in 1223, had reigned but a short time, and Louis IX. was not sixteen years of age when, in 1230, the King of England, who was of age two years before, made a raid on Brittany at the instigation of some noblemen of Normandy, Brittany, and Poitou. But Blanche of Castile possessed a more vigorous spirit and a stronger arm than King Henry III.; she herself led her son to the war, and, in spite of the turbulency of the French barons, who were always eager to shake off their yoke, she saw her efforts crowned with success. {222} Several towns belonging to the King of England opened their gates to her, while King Henry was losing time and wasting his resources on fêtes and tournaments at Nantes. He started back for England in the month of October, deeply humiliated, leaving his ally, the Duke of Brittany, at the foot of the throne of Louis IX., who granted him the pardon which he had humbly solicited with a rope round his neck. The Parliament (this Norman name was beginning to be used) which was convoked at Henry's return, refused to grant any subsidies, alleging that, thanks to the folly and imprudence of the king, his barons were no richer than himself.

Hubert de Burgh had for some years past triumphed over his rival, Pierre des Roches, who was obliged to retire into private life; but the ill success of the expedition to France had ended by causing a feeling against the minister among many of the nobility, who were jealous of his power. Pierre des Roches reappeared at the court, and soon afterwards formal accusations were made against Hubert, most of them frivolous, and attesting nothing but his fidelity to his king, whom he had served and defended during so many years. But Henry III. was not in a position to protect his friend, and would scarcely recognize him; he was prejudiced against Hubert, who took refuge at Merton Abbey. The king had ordered that he should be arrested there; but the Archbishop of Dublin reminded him of the privilege of sanctuary and obtained a passport, which authorized the fallen minister to retire to his residence and prepare his defence. On the faith of this promise Hubert de Burgh set out to meet his wife, the King of Scotland's sister, at Bury St. Edmunds; but he was attacked on the way by a band of armed men sent by the king. {223} Hubert was in bed at the time; but fled half-naked into the parish church, and, seizing in one hand the crucifix and in the other the host, he awaited his enemies upon the steps of the altar. He was dragged into the churchyard, and on the refusal of a blacksmith, who declared that he would rather die than chain down the defender of Dover Castle, was tied to a horse and conducted to the Tower of London. The violation of the consecrated spot, however, excited the public indignation to such a degree that the king found himself obliged to send his prisoner to Brentwood church, which he caused to be surrounded by palings and trenches, thus compelling Hubert to give himself up voluntarily. Having been again imprisoned in the Tower, the earl was deprived of all his property and afterwards languished for one year in the Castle of Devizes. He contrived to escape, and, having been rescued by his friends at the very moment when his enemies were upon him, he regained a certain amount of power; but he no longer aspired to the dangerous position of prime minister, which his rival, Pierre des Roches, had lost in consequence of his manœuvres and excesses. Being satisfied with the recovery of his liberty and a portion of his property, Hubert left the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Edmund Rich, in undisturbed possession of the supreme authority. This prelate, like his predecessor Stephen Langton, was a patriotic statesman, who contrived for the moment to conquer, by his good sense and wisdom, the aversion which the king manifested towards charters, and the restlessness of the barons, who were always inclined to maintain by force of arms the privileges which they had gained with so much difficulty.

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A fresh element of discord had sprung up between the king and his people. Henry had married in 1236 Eleanor of Provence, sister of Margaret, wife of Louis IX., King of France. A large number of Gascons and Provençals had followed her to the court; the queen was accompanied by four uncles, young brothers of her mother, the Princess of Savoy. The king immediately conceived a firm friendship for them; the Bishop of Valence became prime minister; his brother Boniface was promoted to the archbishopric of Canterbury, which Edmund Rich had abandoned, weary and disgusted, to retire into a monastery; and the two other brothers were also provided for. Even this was not sufficient; the Queen-mother, now Countess of Marche, sent to the court of England the four sons whom she had borne to Hugh de Lusignan, and the wealth and honors which the king lavished on the brothers attracted towards them a large number of adventurers. The king found himself without money; all the ecclesiastical benefices were reserved for Italians, by virtue of the Pope's authority over the country. Parliament always insisted on the departure of the strangers as a condition of granting subsidies; but the king, immediately on obtaining the money, forgot his promises, and even his oaths, and his frivolous followers laughed at Magna Charta and the importance which the barons attached to it. "What are the English laws to us?" they would ask.

By these laws the king was compelled to ask his people for the means, which he wasted so foolishly on feasts and extravagance. Each day the Parliament became more reluctant to grant them. The Queen-mother, offended, she said, by the Countess of Poitou, sister-in-law of Louis IX., urged her son to declare war with France, assuring him that the old vassals of his house were eager to gather round his standard. The English barons refused the necessary subsidies, saying that the truce agreed to between the two kingdoms still remained in force. {225} Henry was not of a warlike disposition; but his mother was importunate; he raised some money, and set sail for France with three hundred knights. A certain number of malcontents soon joined him, commanded by the Count of Marche, whom his wife sent to the war, as she had already sent her son. King Louis IX. had taken the field with forces superior to those of the English. The two young monarchs met near the castle of Taillebourg, in Saintonge, on the banks of the Charente. Louis, at the head of his forces, attacked the bridge defended by the English troops, and for a moment withstood almost unaided their united efforts. His signal courage gained the day; the bridge was taken, the English were routed, and the King of England escaped in company with his brother, to whom he owed his safety. The two brothers took refuge in Saintes. A second battle was fought on the morrow, under the walls of the town, and the English were again defeated. The Count of Marche surrendered, and King Henry, flying across Saintonge, embarked at Blaye, leaving the decorations of his chapel and the money remaining in his coffers in the hands of the enemy. It was to the moderation of King Louis IX. and to the scruples of his sensitive conscience that the English were indebted for a truce of five years.

The barons, humiliated and disgraced, although they had not been engaged in the quarrel with France, claimed the right of nominating the chief justicier, the chancellor, and several other officers of the crown. The king refused, and the Parliament only allowed him what was strictly necessary on the occasion of the marriage of his eldest daughter to the King of Scotland. Henry had conceived a hatred of parliaments. {226} In order to manage without them he had recourse to every expedient by which he could raise money; he exacted enormous fines, tortured the Jews, and begged presents of all his vassals. "God gave us this child, but the king sold him to us," said a wag at the birth of one of the princes. Henry even, on one occasion, sold a portion of the royal table-plate. He was advised to sell everything, but the difficulty was to find buyers. "The citizens of London will buy anything," cried the king bitterly. "By my faith! if the treasures of Augustus were for sale, the citizens would make the purchase. These villains live like barons, while we are in want of the principal necessaries of life." The king detested the city of London, but he levied as many taxes as possible upon its inhabitants, instructing the persons of his household to obtain all the things necessary for his entertainments without paying for them, and continually claiming gifts under the most frivolous pretexts from the citizens. In 1253, King Henry had come to an end of all his resources and expedients. He was compelled to convoke a Parliament, declaring that he was anxious to assume the cross, and go and deliver the tomb of Jesus Christ from the hands of the infidels. The barons had often seen this pious pretext made use of, and were not to be deceived by it; they were, besides, accustomed in private life, to hear the same determination announced, in order to set aside the most solemn obligations. Before making any grant, they exacted a new and solemn ratification of their liberties. On the 3rd of May the king proceeded to Westminster Hall; the barons were assembled there, and all the bishops were standing with tapers in their hands. They offered one to the king. "I am not a priest," he said, and refused it. The Archbishop of Canterbury stepped forward, and uttered the sentence of excommunication against all those who should either directly or indirectly violate the charters of the kingdom. {227} As he finished speaking, all the prelates threw aside their tapers, which were extinguished at their feet, and the priests cried: "May the soul of him who may incur this sentence be extinguished in a like manner in hell." The king, uplifting his hand, uttered this oath: "May God help me to preserve intact all these charters, as I am a Christian, as I am a knight, and as I am a king, anointed and crowned." Scarcely had he received the subsidies, when he started on an expedition to Guienne, which was threatened by the intrigues of Alphonse, king of Castile. The quarrel was soon settled, and a marriage decided upon between Prince Edward, Henry's elder brother, and Princess Eleanor, daughter of Alphonse. But the king kept this happy consummation secret, in order to obtain fresh subsidies from his English subjects, under the pretence of continuing the war. He only came back to England when he found himself, as usual, reduced to beggary.

The king's want of political foresight was as conspicuous as his prodigality and weakness. The King of Sicily, Frederick II., had been dead some time (1250). He had been excommunicated, and Pope Innocent IV. had claimed his kingdom as a fief of the Holy See. Frederic's son. Prince Conrad, supported generally by the people, was resisting this pretension by force of arms, and the Pope was casting about for a foreign prince who might be disposed to take up the quarrel. He offered the crown of Sicily to Richard, brother of the King of England, whose immense fortune, derived from the Cornish mines, rendered him more powerful even than King Henry himself; but he refused the tempting bait, although he was quite ready to be seduced, some months later, by the hope of gaining possession of the empire. The Pope then offered the kingdom of Sicily to the King of England for his second son Edmund, and the monarch joyfully accepted the offer, without troubling himself about the demands of his subjects or the state of his finances. {228} The Pope was borrowing of the Lombards and the Venetians, and raising troops in his name; but the Holy See was a hard and urgent creditor. Innocent IV. soon demanded back the money which he had spent, and ordered the English clergy to lend the necessary funds to the king. The clergy refused; the king levied enormous taxes on the abbeys and churches. The legate sent to England to recover the money encountered on all sides the most violent opposition. "I would rather die than pay so much money," said the Bishop of Worcester. "The king and the Pope are stronger than we," said the Bishop of London; "but if I am deprived of my mitre, I shall be able to wear a helmet." The legate returned, convinced that a storm was about to burst over England.

It was on the 2nd of May, 1258; famine reigned throughout the kingdom. Henry III. had been reduced to the necessity of convoking Parliament. When he entered Westminster Hall, the barons were awaiting him there, clad in their armor. On hearing the clanking of arms at his arrival, the king suddenly turned pale. "Am I a prisoner?" he said nervously. "No," said Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk; "but your foreign favorites and your own extravagance have reduced the country to such an abject state of misery, that we demand that the power may for the future be vested in a committee of bishops and barons, in order that they may root out all the abuses, and make good laws for us." One of the Lusignans began to protest. The king agreed, without any reservation, to the demands of the barons, who promised, in return, to help him pay his debts, and to support the pretensions of his son in Italy, provided that he would give proofs of his sincerity at the reassembling of Parliament, which was to be convoked at Oxford.

[Image] King Henry And His Barons.

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At the head of the barons, in their resistance and indignation against foreigners, was Simon, earl of Leicester, himself a foreigner. The youngest son of Simon of Montfort, the persecutor of the Albigenses, he had inherited the earldom of Leicester through his mother, and had recovered his property, which had been confiscated in 1232, through the favor of King Henry, who had taken a fancy to the young Provençal, whom he had aided in marrying his sister Eleanor, widow of the Earl of Pembroke, to the great indignation of the royal family and the nobility of England.

The favor of the king was short-lived. Montfort had initiated himself into the good graces of the barons, who had been so violently opposed to him at first; and the king, jealous and uneasy, drove him from England in 1239, scarcely allowing the earl time enough to embark with his wife, who went with her husband to France. He left her, to assume the cross and proceed to Palestine, where he distinguished himself by glorious feats of arms. On his return, the king had forgotten his jealousy and anger. The earl lived peaceably in England, and was even raised to the dignity of Governor of Gascony. He was recalled in 1252, under the pretence of misbehavior, and young Prince Edward was provided with the office thus snatched from the Earl of Leicester, who grew more and more attached to the cause of the refractory barons, of whom he became the real chief.

The king's disorderly habits and want of foresight having at length reduced him to the last extremities, he decided on confronting the Parliament assembled at Oxford on the 11th of June, 1258. The whole town was filled with men-at-arms; all the barons had brought a numerous following with them. They presented to the king the list of the council who were to be entrusted with the administration of the kingdom. {230} Twelve members were to be elected by the king, and twelve by the barons. This assembly, presided over by the Earl of Leicester, was to be invested during twelve years, with the care of the royal castles. No expense could be incurred against their will; they held possession of the great seal, and were to revise the accounts of the chancellor and of the treasurer; the king was to be compelled to convoke Parliament three times a year.

Henry agreed without hesitation to these humiliating conditions, just as his father. King John, had signed Magna Charta. Prince Edward, whose conscience would not allow him to take oaths as lightly as his father had done, at first made a show of resistance, but ended by acceding to the wishes of the barons. His cousin Henry, son of Richard of Cornwall, who was then known as the King of the Romans, declared that his oath would not be valid, if made in the absence of his father. "Let your father have a care," said Leicester, "if he refuse to do the bidding of the barons of England, for, in that case, he shall not remain in possession of one foot of land in the kingdom." The young nobleman accordingly took the oath.

The king's brothers had refused to give up the castles which they occupied. "I will have them, or you shall lose your head," Montfort declared to William of Valence. And he made such formidable accusations against them at the council, that the four brothers took refuge in Wolesham Castle. The barons pursued them, made them prisoners, and sent them out of the kingdom. The acts of the Parliament of Oxford, the "Mad Parliament," as the royalists called it, were strictly observed throughout the kingdom.

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The barons had taken every precaution against a feeble or improvident government; but they had not been able to guard against the temptations of triumphant ambition. The offices left vacant after the departure of the king's favorites, were filled up by the favorites of the Earl of Leicester. His allies began to grow alarmed at his great power; the King of the Romans, who had recently returned to England, after having taken the oath of allegiance to the acts of the barons, endeavored to create rivals to the Earl. The barons, violent and haughty, insulted the king and oppressed the people. "Why are you so bold with me, my lord, earl?" said Henry to Roger Bigod; "do you not know that I could order all your corn to be destroyed?" "Indeed, sir king," said the earl, "and could I not send you the heads of the destroyers?"

The dissensions among the barons reawakened the hopes of the king. He had provided himself with a dispensation from the Pope, which relieved him of his oaths, and, in February, 1261, he ventured to announce to the barons that they had greatly abused their power, and that he, the King of England, intended for the future to govern without them. He had at the same time taken possession of London. Prince Edward, who had recently returned from France, had, on the contrary, tendered his support to the barons, out of respect for his oath, as he said. The king saw a certain number of his adversaries drawing nearer to him, and in spite of the rebellion of the nobility, the temporary success of the king compelled Leicester to escape to France, swearing that he would never again trust to the oath of a perjured sovereign.

In 1263, the struggle had just begun afresh. The Great Earl, as Leicester was called, had raised his standard; the king had taken refuge in London, and Prince Edward was at Windsor Castle. Queen Eleanor, who was even more detested in the city than the king her husband, had endeavored to escape by way of the Thames; the people had recognized her, and her bark had been pelted with mud and stones. {232} Cries were heard of, "Let us drown the witch!" The Lord Mayor of London had some difficulty in protecting her. The king had given up everything and agreed to everything, but only to attack his adversaries again in the month of June, arming himself against them with the Earl of Leicester's claim that the authority of the barons in the government was to be continued after Henry's death, under the reign of his successor. Prince Edward's scruples disappeared before this arrogant audacity, and he openly embraced his father's cause.

The bishops made an effort to put an end to the civil war; they proposed to submit the dispute to the arbitration of Louis IX., a noble testimony to the fairness and integrity of a prince who was related to the King of England by family ties. The barons consented at first; but King Louis, although requiring that Henry should respect the Great Charter, decided that the power should be placed in the king's hands, that the sovereign was free to choose his attendants from among his subjects, or from among foreigners, and that the royal castles should be given up. The barons smiled disdainfully at this decision; they had had some experience of the king's good faith, and expected to lose all the liberties acquired after so long a struggle, if they did not hold the tokens of them with a firm hand. The civil war recommenced; after alternate successes and reverses the two armies met on the plains of Lewes in Sussex. Prince Edward violently attacked a body of citizens of London who had followed Leicester to the field of battle. He was anxious to avenge the insult which his mother had suffered. He pursued the unfortunate soldiery, whose lines were soon broken by the king's cavalry. But in his absence, fortune declared itself in favor of the Earl of Leicester. {233} When Edward reappeared upon the field of battle, the king was a prisoner, as well as his brother, the King of the Romans; the prince soon suffered the same fate; the Lusignans fled and again made their escape from England. Leicester was now master of the situation; the sovereign and the heir-apparent served him as hostages. His power soon became greater than that of the king had been at any time. Having been excommunicated by the Pope, he took no notice of the sentence, notwithstanding his sincere piety. Rome had abused its power, and a great number of the English clergy were favorable to Leicester and supported his cause as that of the people, who adored the earl. Strong in his popularity, Leicester thought himself able to triumph over all his rivals. He compelled the barons who had sided with the king to give up their castles to him, causing them to be tried by their peers, and then banishing them to Ireland. On a demonstration being made by a fleet which had been raised in France by Queen Eleanor, he gathered together soldiers from all the boroughs and cities to resist the invaders, while he himself, taking up his position at the head of the English squadron, was cruising in the Channel, awaiting the enemy. The Queen's vessels did not dare to leave port, and Leicester returned in triumph to England.

At the beginning of the year 1265, the earl had convened a Parliament, and, for the first time, the representatives of the counties and the towns had taken their seats beside the barons and prelates. Leicester knew where his real strength lay, and looked for support from the body of the people. All that was decreed by the Parliament as thus constituted, was favorable to the Earl: a certain amount of liberty was, however, granted to Prince Edward, who was, nevertheless, watched closely. He soon learnt to profit by the amelioration in his condition. {234} Issuing forth one day from Hereford Castle, he organized races among his guards, reserving to himself the right of awarding the prize; then, when all the horses were exhausted with the exception of his own, he galloped off until he met Roger Mortimer, one of his friends who was coming from the frontiers of Wales, to join him. The party of resistance to the barons thenceforth had a chief, and after a year of supreme power, Leicester was destined to discover the uncertainty of human affairs.

The earl had five sons; the three eldest were more violent, more tyrannical and more greedy than all the foreigners who had formerly surrounded the king. Henry of Montfort had seized upon all the wool intended for exportation, and sold it for his own benefit. Guy and Simon of Montfort had armed a fleet, and were taking possession of any merchantmen that they chanced to come across, without distinction of parties. They added thus daily to the number of their enemies, and were quietly undermining the power of their father. The Earl of Derby and the young Earl of Gloucester (formerly sincerely devoted to Leicester) embraced the cause of Prince Edward, who, seeing his forces swell rapidly, advanced towards Kenilworth Castle, the hereditary property of the Earls of Leicester. Simon of Montfort, the earl's second son, had just arrived there; he was marching to meet his father, who was endeavoring, with little success, to raise an army; in vain did he summon the king's vassals to come and serve under his standards; his supporters were not many. Prince Edward attacked Simon's camp, just outside Kenilworth, made a large number of prisoners, and captured all the enemy's baggage. Simon had only time to take refuge in the castle, but was unable to join his father, when the latter arrived at Evesham, on the 14th of August, 1265.

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A number of banners were perceptible in the distance, and the earl's barber declared that he recognized the arms of Simon. "Go up into the church-steeple, and you will see better," said Leicester. The barber was trembling with fear when he came down; he had seen the lions of England, the red chevron of the Earl of Gloucester, the azure bars of the Mortimers, and innumerable lances glistened underneath the banners.

"We are dead men, my lord," said he. The earl was observing the order of battle of the enemy. "They have learnt from me how to conduct themselves," he said calmly; "may the Lord have mercy on our souls, for, by the arm of St. James, our bodies belong to the prince;" and, re-entering his residence, he prepared, as usual, for the fight by prayer and the sacrament. His son Henry was encouraging him. "I do not despair, my son," said the earl; "your presumption and the pride of your brothers have brought us to this; but I will die for the cause of the Lord and justice."

He had caused the feeble king to be armed, and had taken him about with him everywhere. The standard of England was displayed by both armies. The earl was endeavoring to open up a road towards Kenilworth; his most devoted adherents had formed a circle round him; the prince still pushed forward; in front of him, a horseman had just fallen from his steed. "Save me," cried a plaintive voice; "I am Henry of Winchester!" Edward sprang forward, and, raising up his wounded father, dragged him into a place of safety. In his absence, the voice of the earl resounded upon the field of battle. "Is any quarter given?" he asked. "No quarter for traitors!" cried a royalist triumphantly, and at the same moment, Henry of Montfort fell at his father's feet. "By the arm of St. James, it is time to die!" cried Leicester, who plunged headlong into the surging crowd, holding his sword with both hands, and striking down all who came in his way. {236} He fell at length, as well as the knights who still surrounded him. Scarcely a dozen remained standing, when Prince Edward sent for the body of the earl, his godfather, and that of his cousin Henry, to transport them to the abbey of Evesham. The body of Leicester was decapitated, and his hands were severed from his arms. The head was carried to Lady Mortimer by her husband's savage warriors.

Thus died "Simon the Just," as he was called by the people of England; a sincere man, animated by more noble sentiments than most of his contemporaries; haughty and ambitious without being cruel; a man who had rendered great services to his country before allowing himself to abuse his power by the very thirst for authority and popularity. The remembrance of him remained sacred among the people, who would assemble round his tomb and invoke his protection devoutly, complaining of his not having been canonized. His sons took refuge on the Continent, after having retained possession for some time of Kenilworth Castle. The younger ones remained with their mother, who was generously treated by her nephew Edward; the two eldest, Guy and Simon, accomplished their revenge by murdering, five years later, at Viterbo, their cousin Henry of Almagne, in a church, while mass was being celebrated. They disappeared after this crime--the House of Montfort had fallen forever.

The king had regained his sceptre, delivered the prisoners, and called back the exiles who had been banished by the Great Earl; but the victory gained by Leicester survived his defeat. In the Parliament convened at Winchester, in the month of September, 1265, the king did not dare to repudiate the liberties acquired by England. {237} The City of London alone lost its charter, but the severe sentences pronounced against Leicester's partisans excited a series of insurrections which Prince Edward had great difficulty in quelling. The want was felt of loosing the reins of government, and of restoring some trust to the vanquished; a committee composed of bishops and barons was entrusted to draw up the conditions of peace, and their decision, known under the title of the Dictum of Kenilworth, was confirmed by the king and the parliament. The efforts of the Pope, the uprightness and good sense of Prince Edward, and the weariness of all parties, at length brought about a general cessation of hostilities. On the 18th of November, 1267, more than two years after the battle of Evesham, the Parliament, which had assembled at Marlborough, adopted several of the liberal guarantees formerly proposed by the Earl of Leicester; the last of the "patriots," as they called themselves, who still held the Isle of Ely, laid down their arms; the citizens of London received a fresh charter, and the country was at peace.

Scarcely had peace been secured, when Prince Edward took advantage of it to assume the cross, as did also his wife Eleanor of Castile, and his cousin Henry of Almagne. They made sail in the month of July, 1270; Louis IX. had just set out on his second crusade, and Prince Edward, a great admirer of his uncle of France, was hastening to join him, when Henry of Almagne, who had been sent upon a secret mission to Italy, was assassinated by his cousins, the Montforts. This blow was fatal to the old King of the Romans, who died in the month of December, 1271; eleven months afterwards, on the 16th of November, 1272, his brother. King Henry III., also died. He was interred in Westminster Abbey; but before being lowered into the grave, the Earl of Gloucester, placing his naked hand upon the corpse, took an oath of fidelity to King Edward I.; the other barons followed his example. {238} King Henry was sixty-five years of age, and had reigned fifty-six. King only in name, feeble and frivolous, he had seen the liberties of his people grow greater under his eyes and against his wish; his son, who was still vainly contending against them, was destined to derive from the free support and energetic ardor of the English nation, the strength which served him through his wars and conquests.