Part 8

The barons insisted that the time had come for constitutional amendment. “The king’s mistakes call for special treatment,” said Richard, Earl of Gloucester, at a parliament early in 1258, and Simon, closely related to the royal house as he was, agreed. The swarm of royal parasites from Poitou raised objections to any interference with Henry’s prerogative, but were swept aside. “If the king can’t do without us in war he must listen to us in peace. And what sort of peace is this when the king is led astray by bad counsellors and the land is filled with foreign tyrants who grind down native-born Englishmen?” So the barons argued.[42]

To Henry’s threat, “I will send reapers and reap your fields for you,” Hugh Bigod of Norfolk had retorted briskly, “And I will send you back the heads of your reapers.”

Parliament met again in June that year at Oxford--the “Mad Parliament” it was called--and the barons came fully armed, for civil war seemed imminent. But the barons led by Richard of Gloucester and Earl Simon carried all before them and the war was postponed for five years.

The work of this parliament, well known as the Provisions of Oxford, was one more attempt to get the Great Charter honestly observed. Under this constitution:--

The king was to have a standing council of fifteen, by whose advice he was to act, and to whom the justiciar, chancellor and treasurer were to be accountable.

Parliament was to meet three times a year--February, June and October. Four knights were to be chosen by the king’s lesser freehold tenant-knights in each county.

To save expense twelve commissioners were to be chosen to represent the baronage--“and the commonalty shall hold as established that which these twelve shall do.”[43] The fifteen counsellors consisted of six of the king’s party, and nine of the barons’--the most conspicuous of the latter were Simon of Montfort, Richard of Gloucester, and Bishop Cantilupe, of Worcester.

Then the oath was taken, “that neither for life nor death, for hatred or love, or for any cause whatever, would they be bent or weakened in their purpose to regain praiseworthy laws, and to cleanse the kingdom from foreigners.”

Henry and Prince Edward, his eldest son, took the oath willingly enough--though the latter soon began “to draw back from it so far as he could.” The king’s half-brothers and the rest of the aliens not only refused the oath, but swore that as long as they had breath they would never surrender their castles, revenues, or wardships.[44] Simon, who on the ground of his foreign birth had at once yielded his castles of Kenilworth and Odiham, without recompense, turned to William de Valence--who was blustering more than the rest--and said sharply, “To a certainty you shall either surrender your castles or lose your head.” The barons made it plain that they were in agreement with this, and then were the Poitevins afraid, not knowing what to do; “for if they hid themselves in their castles they would be starved out; for all the people would besiege them and utterly destroy their castles.” The aliens fled to the continent, and the new constitution was proclaimed in every county--in Latin, French, and English.[45]

Twenty years had passed since Henry had blessed Simon’s marriage with his sister Eleanor, and Simon had stood godfather to Prince Edward, and now after the Parliament at Oxford, meeting the Earl of Leicester in the Bishop of Durham’s palace on the Thames bank, the king cannot conceal his fear of the one man who held up the good cause--“like a pillar that cannot be moved.” The king had taken refuge from a thunderstorm, and to Simon’s assurance that the storm was passing, and was no longer to be feared, answered grimly, “I fear thunder and lightning a good deal, Lord Simon, but by the Head of God, I fear you more than all the thunder and lightning in the world.”

“Everyone suspected that these astounding words broke from the king because the Earl of Leicester manfully and boldly persevered in carrying out the provisions, compelling the king and all the enemies of these provisions to assent to them, and utterly banishing his brothers, who were corrupting the whole kingdom.” (Matthew Paris.)

Manfully as the great earl might strive, he could not accomplish the carrying out of the Provisions of Oxford. Henry was quickly at his old work, obtaining from Rome a dispensation from his old promises on the ground they had been obtained by compulsion, and bringing back his foreign supporters. The barons neither held together nor made any serious effort to promote good government.

Richard of Gloucester, jealous of Simon, fell away from the national cause before his death in 1262.[46]

Prince Edward stood by his oath, but did nothing to prevent the break-up of the provisional government, and soon openly supported his father.

In spite of all this the Provisions, modified at Westminster in 1259, endured for five years, and then it seemed as if nothing could save the country from civil war. As a last resource appeal was made by both sides to King Louis of France to arbitrate concerning the fulfilment of the Provisions, and at Amiens, in January, 1264, the award was given. Louis solemnly gave sentence for the king against the barons, entirely annulling the Statutes and Provisions of Oxford, and in particular declaring the king free to appoint his own ministers, councils, and sheriffs, and to employ aliens. But by the award--the mise--of Amiens the earlier charters given by the crown were to remain, and all disputes arising out of the Parliament of Oxford were to be suppressed. Louis gave as a reason for annulling the provisions that the pope had already annulled them.

The appellants had turned to Louis hoping for peace. The award was the signal for war. Many of the bishops and barons at once withdrew from Simon, who answered the deserters by declaring, “Though all should forsake us, I and my four sons will fight to the death in the righteous cause I have sworn to uphold, to the honour of the Church and the good of the realm. Many lands have I travelled, heathen and Christian, but nowhere have I seen such bad faith and falsehood as in England.”

London was enthusiastic in its support of the barons, and the Cinque Ports, the scholars of Oxford, and the Dominican and Franciscan friars were all on the side of reform. Chief among Simon’s supporters were Bishop Cantilupe, of Worcester, Gilbert, the young Earl of Gloucester, Hugh le Despenser, the justiciar, and Roger Bigod.

War began in March, when Prince Edward captured Gloucester, joined Henry at Oxford, and then seized Nottingham and Northampton, while Simon and the citizens of London attacked Rochester. Henry turned south, and encamped in full force near Lewes.

Again Simon laboured for peace, and in his own name and the name of Gilbert of Gloucester, the Bishops of Worcester and London went as ambassadors to Henry. Simon offered £30,000 to the king if he would make peace and keep to the Provisions of Oxford, and assured him that he had taken up arms not against Henry but against those who were “not only our enemies, but yours, and those of the whole kingdom.”

The king treated the proposal with scorn, and Prince Edward added an additional message of contempt.

On the 14th of May the battle of Lewes was fought and won by Simon, “through a singular conjunction of skill and craft on the one side, and rashness and panic on the other.”[47]

The Earl of Leicester went into the battle fighting for his country and his oath, and with the exhortation to his men “to pray God, if this our undertaking be pleasing in His sight, to give us might to fulfil the same, serving Him as good knights.”

The stout old Bishop of Worcester blessed the troops, “who had among them all but one faith, one will in all things, one love towards God and their neighbour, so that they feared neither to offend the king nor even to die for the sake of justice, rather than violate their oaths.” (Matthew of Westminster.)

At the end of the day the defeat of the royalists was complete, and the king, Prince Edward and his kinsmen were prisoners.

Then peace was made, Henry once more swearing to keep the charters and articles of Oxford, to employ no aliens, to submit the Provisions to arbitration again, to live thriftily till his debts were paid, and to give his son Edward and his nephew Henry as hostages for good behaviour till a permanent reform in the constitution was made. Early in June these terms of peace were proclaimed in London, to the general satisfaction, and on all sides the people shouted their thankfulness to Simon.

God’s blessing on Earl Simon, his sons and followers light! Who put their lives in jeopardy and fought a desperate fight, Because their hearts were moved to hear their English brethren groan Beneath the hard taskmasters’ rods, making a grievous moan, Like Israel under Pharaoh’s yoke, in thraldom and in dread, Their freedom gone, their lives scarce spared, so evilly they sped. But at the last the Lord looked down and saw His people’s pain, And sent a second Mattathias to break their bonds in twain; Who with his sons so full of zeal for the law and for the right, Will never flinch a single inch before the tyrant’s might. To Simon’s faith and faithfulness alone our peace we owe, He raised the weak and hopeless and made the proud to bow, He set the realm at one again and brought the mighty low.[48]

And now in the summer of 1264 Earl Simon was to show what he could do for England, for the victory of Lewes had placed power in his hands, and he stood indisputably the foremost man in the realm. For one short year his counsel was to guide the destinies of England and to make that year memorable for all time by the creation of the first representative Parliament.

A new scheme of government was at once drawn up. Three electors chosen by the barons were to appoint a council of nine for the guidance of the king, and Simon of Montfort, Gilbert of Gloucester, and Stephen Berksted, Bishop of Chichester, were speedily chosen as the three electors. Hugh le Despenser remained justiciar, and Thomas Cantilupe, the bishop’s nephew, became chancellor. (This Thomas subsequently became Bishop of Hereford, died in Italy, and was canonized.)

Then in December came the issue of writs for Simon of Montfort’s famous Full Parliament of 1265. Two knights are to be returned from each shire, and for the first time from each city and borough the burgesses are to send two representatives. Hitherto Parliament had consisted of barons and clergy, and knights sent by the king’s tenants, and the representation of the townspeople was unknown. Simon’s earlier policy at Oxford had done nothing to extend the basis of government or create a national responsibility for the laws. “The provisions of 1258 restricted, the constitutions of 1264 extended the limits of parliament.... Either Simon’s views of a constitution had rapidly developed, or the influence which had checked them in 1258 were removed. Anyhow, he had had genius to interpret the mind of the nation and to anticipate the line which was taken by later progress.” (Stubbs.)

This development of Simon’s views may fairly be traced to his close and intimate connection with the Dominican friars.[49] Simon’s father, the warrior of the Albigensian wars, had been the warm friend of St. Dominic. Simon himself was equally the friend of Bishop Grosseteste, the champion of the friars. As far back as 1245 Simon had founded a Dominican priory at Leicester. In 1263 he had been present at a General Chapter of the Dominican Order in Holborn, London, and the Parliament of Oxford had met in a Dominican priory in that city. All along the friars had supported the popular movement.[50]

Now the peculiarity of the Dominican Order of Friars is its representative form of government. Each priory sends two representatives to its provincial chapter, and each province sends two representatives to the general chapter of the order.

Simon of Montfort, when the opportunity came to him for striking out a reform in the English Parliament, adopted the plan which he had studied and seen at work amongst the Preaching Friars. “The idea of representative government had ripened in his hand,” and his genius interpreted the mind of the nation. In spite of all the scorn that has been poured on popular elections and the Houses of Parliament, in spite of all the imperfections that necessarily are attached to any constitutional system devised by the wit of man, the idea of representative government has become the inspiration of the nations of the world. The failings of democracy are obvious, the weak spots in popular electoral systems glaring; but mankind, once grasping the idea of freedom in politics, clamours eagerly for responsibility in law-making and the administration of justice, and refuses to rest satisfied under any despotism or bureaucracy, benevolent or malevolent. Suppressed by dictators, perverted by demagogues, abused by the unscrupulous in power, there still seems nothing better in politics for mankind than self-government. “Better is he who rules his own temper than he who storms a city,” wrote Friar Adam of Marsh to Simon of Montfort. “Better self-government for a people than world-wide conquest,” the average man declares, and the opinion slowly moulds the destinies of nations, till “patriotism” becomes the word for good service in politics.

The verse of the thirteenth century chronicler:--

The king that tries without advice to seek his people’s will, Must often fail, he cannot know the woes and wants they feel,

gets re-expression in the nineteenth century in Abraham Lincoln’s: “Government of the people, by the people, for the people.” Always threatened by the personal ambition of man, often overthrown when ambition held the sword of power, contemptible to the wise and prudent because of the simplicity and innocence of “the people,” denounced as dangerous by the professional expert in bureaucracy because of the ignorance of “the people,” its inadequacy the common theme of the disappointed--representative government survives its enemies, defies its critics, and with its blemishes unconcealed, finds the company of its lovers ever increasing and recruiting in its behalf. For since that first Full Parliament of Earl Simon’s in 1265 it has never been possible to get rid of the notion that representative government was a key to the portals of freedom; and though the wider the freedom the greater the responsibility, to the credit of the race at all times men and women have pressed forward, not rejecting responsibility.

Simon’s parliament sat from January to March. Its chief business was the confirmation of the treaty of peace at Lewes, and Henry swore as usual to maintain the new constitution, the charters and provisions. The government was short-lived. Danger from France, where the queen and Archbishop Boniface of Canterbury and all Henry’s alien courtiers planned invasion with an army collected in Holland, had passed away at the close of the previous summer. There had been a great muster of troops for national defence near Dover, bad weather had incapacitated the queen’s fleet, and Louis of France agreed to negotiations in place of war. The Cinque Ports mariners refused a landing to the pope’s legate, who was ready to excommunicate the new government, and flung his papal bull in the sea.[51]

Not from abroad but from within came the foes who overthrew Simon’s government and murdered the great statesman. Earl Gilbert, of Gloucester, like his father, grew jealous of Simon’s leadership, and disputed his authority as to the ransom of some of the prisoners of Lewes, and Simon’s sons added fuel to the flame by their pride and overbearing insolence. Roger Mortimer and some of the nobles of the Welsh marches rose for King Henry in the spring of 1265, and Gilbert deserted the barons for the king.[52] William of Valence landed in South Wales with a body of crossbowmen in May, and when Simon reached Hereford to put down the rebellion, Prince Edward, who, with the king, had been in Simon’s custody, made his escape to Mortimer and the marches.

Edward quickly raised troops, and joined Gilbert at Ludlow, where he took an oath to obey the laws and charters of the realm. Simon, in some danger of being cut off by this movement on his rear, sent word to his second son--Simon--to go to Kenilworth and join him at Evesham, and then turned back from Wales.

The younger Simon was surprised at Kenilworth by a sudden raid by Edward. His camp was broken up, his banners taken, and he was driven back into the castle. Edward, fully aware that Earl Simon had only a small force with him, hurried off to Evesham to attack him, before young Simon could rally his scattered troops and come to his father’s help.

On the morning of August 4th Earl Simon halted at Evesham, and at the king’s request, for Henry was still his captive, heard mass and dined. His son’s army, now on its way, halted for the same purpose at Alcester. “He was now only ten miles distant and the junction of father and son seemed secure.”[53] But Prince Edward was already between them. “As the morning broke his army lay across the road that led northward from Evesham to Alcester. Ere three hours had passed the corpse of the great earl lay mangled amid a ring of faithful knights, and the ‘murder of Evesham, for battle none it was,’ was over.”

At first Simon thought the advancing army was his son’s, for Edward displayed the captured banners of Kenilworth, but when he saw the standards of the prince and of Gloucester, and the well-known banner of Mortimer, the truth was clear.

“By the arm of St. James,” cried the earl, “they come on skilfully, for they have turned my lessons against me. God have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are theirs! Though if Simon were to come up we might hope yet.” He turned to his eldest son, and pointing to the banner of Gloucester said, “See, Henry, what your pride has done.”

In vain Henry urged his father to fly while escape was possible. “I had as lief die here in a good cause as in the Holy Land,” said the earl, and the barons and knights standing round were equally resolute to fight to the end--though they had but two men to every seven of the enemy. The good Bishop of Worcester blessed the little army as he had done at Lewes, and then the battle began. The Welsh footsoldiers quickly lost heart and fled from Simon and the field, and the barons were soon hemmed in. One by one they fell--Henry of Montfort, Hugh le Despenser, the wise and upright justiciar, and Simon himself, wounded and unhorsed, “fought on to the last like a giant for the liberties of England.” A soldier stabbed him in the back under the mail he wore, and then he was borne down and slain, overwhelmed by numbers rather than conquered. “So a death full of honour ended the chivalry and prowess, ennobled by so many deeds in so many lands.” “Thus lamentably fell the flower of knighthood, leaving to others an example of steadfast courage. Who can prevent the treachery of friends? Those who had eaten his bread had raised their heels against him. Those who had spoken words of love to him with their lips lied in their throats, for their hearts were not right with him, and they betrayed him in his hour of need.” (W. Rishanger.)

For nearly three hours the unequal battle was fought, in the midst of storm and darkness. So dark was it that King Henry, who had been forced to remain with Simon’s knights, had difficulty in saving his life, and was actually wounded by a javelin before he was recognized by Edward’s soldiers.

The monks of Evesham carried the bodies of some of the barons into the abbey for burial, and after horrible mutilations by the victors the remains of the great earl were reverently interred by the side of Hugh le Despenser, before the high altar.

“Those who knew Simon praise his piety, admire his learning, and extol his prowess as a knight and skill as a general. They tell of his simple fare and plain russet dress, bearing witness to his kindly speech and firm friendship to all good men, describe his angry scorn for liars and unjust men, and marvel at his zeal for truth and right, which was such that neither pleasure nor threats nor promises could turn him aside from keeping the oath he swore at Oxford; for he held up the good cause ‘like a pillar that cannot be moved, and like a second Josiah esteemed righteousness the very healing of his soul.’ As a statesman he wished to bind the king to rule according to law, and to make the king’s ministers responsible to a full Parliament; and though he did not live to see the success of his policy, he had pointed out the way by which future statesmen might bring it about.” (F. York Powell.)

The news of Simon’s death was received with general mourning as it spread over the land. He was acclaimed by the people as a saint and martyr, and miracles were said to be worked by his relics.[54] The Franciscan friars drew up a service in his honour--“consisting of lessons, responses, verses, hymns, and other matter appertaining to the honour and respect due to a martyr.”[55] But the pope who had excommunicated Simon was not likely to hear of canonization, and “as long as Edward lives the service compiled in Simon’s honour cannot gain acceptance to be chanted within the church of God, which was hoped for.”[56]

The “Lament of Earl Simon,”[57] compared the mighty statesman with Thomas of Canterbury:

For by his death Earl Simon hath In sooth the victory won, Like Canterbury’s martyr he There to the death was done. Thomas the good, that never would Let holy church be tried; Like him he fought, and flinching not, The good earl like him died.

_Refrain:_

Now low there lies the flower of price That knew so much of war; The Earl Montfort, whose luckless sort, The land shall long deplore.

Death did they face to keep in place Both righteousness and peace; Wherefore the saint from sin and taint Shall give their souls release. They faced the grave that they might save The people of this land; For so his will they did fulfill As we do understand.

_Refrain._

Sir Simon now, that knight so true, With all his company, Are gone above to joy and love In life that cannot die; But may our Lord that died on rood And God send succour yet To them that lie in misery, Fast in hard prison set.

_Refrain._

The good cause for which Simon had fought might well have seemed lost, when Edward’s knights were hacking the dead body of the great earl to pieces at Evesham. But it was not exactly a “Royalist victory,” for the very men who stood victors over the mangled corpse of Earl Simon were men as resolute as he was to enforce the Great Charter and its results against the king.[58]

In the hour of triumph Henry struck hard, and a mad reaction of terror ensued. But the movement Simon had led could not be turned back, and the very savage extravagance of the royalist party defeated its own ends. A general sentence of disinheritance against all who had fought with Simon drove the disinherited barons to keep up the fight. The siege of Kenilworth, where Sir Henry of Hastings defied the whole royal army, lasted from June to December, 1266, and was only ended by Parliament insisting on the king appointing a board of twelve, who made a just award concerning the disinherited. By this award, called the Ban of Kenilworth:--

The royal obligation to keep the charters was required.

The acts of Simon were annulled, and the full prerogatives of the crown declared.

The freedom of the Church was demanded.

Justice was to be done according to the laws and customs of the realm.