Part 5

Had Salvator Rosa been living when the great chesnut was in its prime, he would have braved the dangers both of land and sea to have studied its magnificent proportions, for this is the tree which graces all his landscapes; it flourished in the mountains of Calabria, where he painted, and there he observed it in all its forms, breaking and disposing of it, in a variety of beautiful shapes, as the exigences of his compositions required. But Salvator Rosa was not then living, nor, perhaps, his ancestors for many generations; neither was the art of painting developed in England; that beautiful art, which transmits to canvas the glow of an evening sky, and the effects of foliage when shaken by the wind; which embodies, within the space of a few inches, an extent of many miles, with mingled wood and flood, bold headlands and mountains fading in the distance, or crowded cities, with their palaces and schools. Even the Bayeux tapestry, which chronicled, in after years, events connected with civil history and domestic misery, presented merely an ungraceful portraiture of passing events.

The tree had attained nearly to its altitude at that period of England's sorrows, when the fierce Penda carried war and desolation through some of her fairest provinces. At this time, also, his son, being appointed Governor of Mercia, resided with his wife, Eva, at Glocester, in the centre of his dominions, where many persecuted persons, who fled from the sword of Penda, were secretly protected and relieved, for Eva was a Christian, and her husband inclined to her faith. Gloucester, where they held their court, was a place of great antiquity. It was one of the twenty-eight cities which the Britons erected, previous to their conquest by the Romans, and was called Caer-Glou, or Caer-Gloyw, which signified, in their language, the bright or splendid town, from its situation on an eminence at the termination of the flat and marshy part of the kingdom of Mercia, and being well watered with an ample river.

Wolfere presided over the dominions which his father confided to his care, with equal wisdom and consideration; but within the range of the highest window of his palace, grievous sights were witnessed at one time, by those who had the hardihood to look for them. A dreadful battle was fought in the neighbourhood of Corinium, at about twelve miles distant, between the fierce king, for whom Wolfere ruled, and the King of Wessex. Corinium was much fallen from its ancient grandeur: it had been, in former times, the seat of arts and elegance; Roman generals lived there, and there Constantine occasionally resided; but war and time had greatly changed its once royal aspect, though still a considerable city, and having within its precincts a store of goods and cattle. Penda desired to possess them, and the hard victory which he gained before the walls gave the inhabitants an earnest of the calamities that awaited them. The consequences of this great victory were severely felt in the kingdom of Wessex, and again, throughout the wide expanse of the Cotswold Hills, and among the beautiful vales of Mercia, were acted those scenes of misery, which the youths of that day had shuddered to hear beside the blazing hearth-stone, when narrated in the winter tales of their grandfathers.

The victory which Penda had gained, within sight of his son's palace at Gloucester, was succeeded by the fall of the brave Oswold, near Oswestry, in Shropshire. The kingdom of Bernicia was added by his death to the already extensive dominions of the conqueror, and with the increase of his territories, increased also the sufferings of the Christians, whom he persecuted with unwearied malignity. Penda was born a pagan, and as such he passed the period of his youth and middle age. According to the custom of his country, he worshipped images of wood and stone, and joined devoutly in all the unhallowed rites which had been established by his Saxon ancestors; like them he believed that demons of good or ill presided over the fields and groves, and he sought to obtain the favour of the one, and to conciliate the other, by such observances and propitiations as the priesthood had enjoined. To them he was devoutly attached, and his temper being naturally inclined to seriousness, somewhat too, unyielding, with a strong bias to religion, he sought to extirpate the Christian faith, which had been represented to him as tending equally to overthrow the altars of his ruthless deities, with the throne itself.

But the Saviour, whose disciples he thus ignorantly persecuted, refused not, on his behalf, the prayers of one who ceased not to supplicate that he might become a sharer in the hopes and blessings of which she knew the value. This was Eva, who has been already mentioned as the wife of his son, Wolfere, the governor of Mercia. Men of the present generation, those even who live where she once lived, have heard little concerning her. Historians speak rather of crimes and sorrows; they chronicle what the great adversary of mankind has achieved to make nations miserable; the life spent in quiet duty, the lifting up of the heart in secret prayer, are no themes for them. But the memorial of Eva is in heaven, her record is on high, and there is reason to believe that she was allowed to witness the softening of that rugged temper, which had occasioned such a variety of wretchedness--to hear, also, that Penda allowed the preaching of Christianity in his dominions nearly two years before his death. It was even said that he was baptized by Bishop Aiden, with Sigebert, King of the East-Angles.

Eva died in good old age, after presiding for more than thirty years over the nunnery of St Peter's, at Gloucester. She retired thither on the death of her husband, and greatly benefited the abbey to which it was attached, by causing the revenues to be increased, and by obtaining the confirmation of former donations. With her terminated the office of lady Abbess, during the cruel war which succeeded, between Egbert and the King of Mercia, when the nuns were forced to depart, and the abbey became desolate. The roof which had sheltered the remains of former Abbesses, of Eilburg, who governed the nunnery, both religiously and prudently, for more than half a century, and of Kyneburg, the widow of Elred, King of Northumberland, was thrown open to the winds of heaven, and nothing remained of its former splendour but walls black with smoke, and a few broken effigies.

Neither Wolfere, nor his wife Eva, anticipated that such would be the fate of the noble abbey which the piety of former kings had founded, and which the governor of Mercia sought to enlarge and beautify, because Eva loved to worship there. The future is in mercy veiled from the eyes of men; they could not bear to contemplate events that are often close at hand, for though strength is promised for the day of sorrow, it is not given before that sorrow comes. Eva went, as she was wont, on every holy day, to offer prayers, and to present her gifts within the hallowed walls of St Peter's Abbey, and Wolfere continued to embellish the noble city that was confided to his care, by causing many spacious buildings to be erected both for ornament and use. The city had suffered greatly in former wars, and he not only rebuilt such portions of the walls as had been broken down, but so enlarged and adorned it, that it was soon spoken of as one of the finest cities in the Heptarchy. Great hospitality was also exercised at his court, and many found a shelter there, whose homes had been destroyed in the rage of civil discord.

The presidency of Wolfere, therefore, over the kingdom of Mercia; the noble acts which he achieved in beautifying and enlarging the city of Caer-Glou, and the quiet, unassuming labours of his wife, Eva, were cotemporary with the Chesnut of Tortworth when it first attained its high standing among forest-trees. It may be, that the venerable ruin, whose decaying trunk is still surmounted by a few verdant branches, was looked upon in its day of pride, by Wolfere and Eva. Tortworth was mentioned, in the time of John, as an ancient place, and the tree of which we speak was called the Great Chesnut. It grew within the garden-wall of the old mansion, and we have no reason to believe that the site on which it stood, had been recently reclaimed from the forest.

Wallace's Oak.

The old Memorial tree is down; But its stirring legend still lives on: A tale of grief and withering woe, Of tears that ceased long ago.--M. R.

The noble Oak of Ellerslie sheltered the birth-place of Wallace. Centuries have passed since then, and now it stands in the centre of a small common, time-worn and reft of all its greatness, a magnificent ruin; although, within the memory of man, its ample branches extended over a Scotch acre of ground. Wallace, and the children of the village, used to play beneath its shelter: they would gather acorns for cups and balls, and rest on the green sward when they were hot and weary.

A poet, perhaps, would tell you that the patriarchal tree loved to look down on the young "wee things," whose remotest ancestors--precursors, it may be, of a thousand generations, to the period concerning which we speak--had dwelt beside it; that it liked to screen them from the noonday heat; and that, when a sudden shower, driving furiously from off the hills, made the fondlings haste beneath its branches, it kept off the heavy rain-drops that they might not harm the merry crowd. Certain it is that the village children liked best to play beneath the shade of the old oak, and that their parents knew where to seek for the young truants, when they had wandered from school or home. We can all enter into the feelings of children, for we have been children ourselves; we can remember how the primrose and the cowslip, although the gathering of them often gained for us both colds and chidings; the nest of the hedge-sparrow, or the coming forth of the white thorn, were things of vast importance; what delight the finding of them imparted, and how every new object powerfully excited the young mind, because they had all, and each, the charm of novelty. We know, also, that as months and years pass on, somewhat of care begins to steal across all this joyousness, as the shadow of a passing cloud obscures a sunny landscape; that the cares of every day occurrence--the difficulty of finding bread for a large young family--the father's weariness after a day of labour, and the anxious feelings of the mother, are soon shared in by children. They feel more than any one imagines who does not vividly remember what his or her feelings have been in very early life, although the feelings were not, perhaps, depressed by circumstances of equal trial. Time goes on, and it is not only home sorrows that engross the mind; if the days in which they live, are stormy, and men speak of their country's wrongs, the striplings aspire to aid in seeking redress; and the ardour by which their fathers are excited, is reflected in them with double vividness. Thus it was at the period when Wallace lived. The thoughts of all were much engrossed by the terrible condition of the country, and the once playful children, who used to assemble beneath the Oak of Ellerslie, now grown up to boyhood, heard from their fathers that the English army was advancing with all speed towards the border land. Edward led them on, but he had no right to the crown of Scotland. Alexander III., who had filled till lately the now vacant throne, and who had espoused the sister of Edward, most probably inherited, after a period of eight hundred years, and through a succession of males, the sceptre of all the Scottish princes; of those, who, although the country had been continually exposed to such factions and convulsions as are incident to all barbarous, and to many civilized nations, had governed her rocks and fastnesses, from a period whose commencement is lost in the obscurity of ages. But the king was dead; he had fallen from his horse at Kinghorn, and the maid of Norway, as she was termed, daughter of Eric, her king, and his own fair daughter Margaret, was the only representative of the Scottish dynasty. Alexander had wisely caused her to be recognized by the states of Scotland, as the lawful heir of the kingdom, and though an infant and a foreigner, she was immediately received as such. Margaret was accordingly proclaimed queen, and the dispositions which had been made against the event of Alexander's death appeared so just and prudent, that no disorders, as might naturally be apprehended, ensued in the kingdom. Five guardians, the Bishops of St. Andrew's and Glasgow, the Earls of Fife and Bucan, and James Steward, were appointed to take charge of the young princess. These men, who were distinguished for their talents and integrity, entered peaceably upon the administration, and the infant queen, under the protection of Edward, her great uncle, and Eric her father, set forth on her voyage towards Scotland. But either the fatigue attendant on an expedition by sea, or else, in her young mind, grief at leaving the companions of her childhood, affected her health; she suddenly became ill, and died on the passage.

There were sad hearts in Scotland, when the heavy tidings reached her of the young queen's death; and when it was heard by those who met at evening around the oak of Ellerslie, they looked anxiously one upon the other, for they knew not what to say; it seemed to them that all hope for the weal of Scotland was about to be extinguished. They knew that Edward was both powerful and crafty; that having lately, by force of arms, brought Wales under subjection, he had designed, by the marriage of Margaret with his eldest son, to unite the whole island under one monarchy. With this view he had dispatched an embassy to the states of Scotland, when the late king died, and the proposal being favourable to the happiness and security of the kingdom, it was readily assented to. It was even agreed by the five guardians, that their young sovereign should be educated at the English court, while they at the same time, stipulated that Scotland should enjoy her ancient liberties and customs, and that in case the prince and Margaret should die without children, the crown of Scotland should revert to the next heir. The projected marriage promised well, but the sudden death of the young princess left only a dismal prospect for the kingdom. No breaking-out among the people immediately ensued, for the regency was sufficiently powerful to keep the crown from sudden spoliation. It was otherwise in the course of a short time, for several pretenders laid claim to the vacant throne. The posterity of William, King of Scotland, the prince who was taken prisoner by Henry II., being extinct on the death of Margaret, the crown devolved by natural right to the representatives of David, Earl of Huntingdon, brother to William, whose male line being also extinct, left the succession open to the descendants of his daughters. John Baliol represented his maternal ancestor Margaret, one of the three daughters of the Earl of Huntingdon, married to Alan, Lord of Galloway; Robert Bruce of Annandale, his mother Isabella; and John Hastings, the lady Adama, who espoused Henry Lord Hastings. This last pretended that the kingdom of Scotland, like other inheritances, was divisible among the three co-heiresses of the Earl of Huntingdon, and that he, in right of his mother, was entitled to a third. Baliol and Bruce spurned at the thought of dismembering the country, while each asserted the superiority of his own claim. Baliol was sprung from the elder branch, Bruce was one degree nearer the common stock; if the principle of representation was regarded, the former had the better claim; if consanguinity was considered, the latter was entitled to the preference. The sentiments of men were divided, all the nobility took part with one or other of the claimants, and the people implicitly followed their leaders. The different claimants themselves had great power and numerous retainers in Scotland, and each thought himself secure of gaining the Scottish throne. The danger which threatened the country was therefore iminent. The most thoughtless saw that a furious civil war would infallibly occur, unless some plan could be devised for adverting so terrible a calamity; and men, high in power, of all parties, and themselves secretly inclining either to Baliol, or Bruce, or Hastings, resolved, if possible, to lay aside their mutual differences, and to agree upon some measure for preserving the public peace.

Many and lengthened were the discussions which they held. The best and most obvious method of averting the threatened calamity, was to prevail upon two of the contending parties to lay aside their mutual claims. But this they would not do; each saw, or fancied that he saw, the crown of Scotland within his grasp, and he cared not if it was gained at the cost of a civil war. Another expedient then occurred to those who sat in council for the public good. This was the submitting of the question to the judgment of King Edward. For such a measure they had many precedents. The English king and his barons, in the preceding reign, had endeavoured to settle their differences by a reference to the King of France, and the integrity of that monarch had prevented any of the bad effects which might otherwise have ensued. The kings of France and Arragon, and afterwards other princes, had appealed in like manner to Edward's arbitration, and he had acquitted himself with honour in his decisions. The parliament of Scotland, therefore, wishing if possible to prevent the misery attendant on civil discord, and allured by the great reputation of the English monarch, as well as by the amicable correspondence which had existed between the kingdoms, agreed in making a reference to Edward. Men of probity were chosen as deputies, and among these, Frazer, Bishop of St. Andrews, left his quiet home on the plains of Fife, at a short distance from the German ocean, to undertake a long and perilous expedition to the English court. They remembered that her monarch would have stood in the relationship of a father to their young queen, they had heard much concerning his integrity and honour, and how he had kept peace in France and Arragon, and they flattered themselves that he would now interfere in the affairs of a sister kingdom, with such authority as none of the competitors would dare to withstand.

Hope revived in Scotland, and many fondly trusted that the heavy cloud which had begun to settle on her mountains, and threatened to deluge her plains with wretchedness, would yet pass away.

Men often possess a high character for virtue, because they have no temptation to act wrong. In the case of France and Arragon, the remoteness of the states, the great power of their respective princes, and the little interest which Edward had on either side, induced him to acquit himself with strict impartiality in his decisions. It was not so in the present case, and the temptation was too strong for the English monarch to resist. He secretly purposed to lay hold of the present favourable opportunity, and if not to create, at least to revive, his claim of a feudal supremacy over Scotland; a claim which had hitherto lain in the deepest obscurity, and which, if it had ever been an object of attention, or had been so much as suspected, would have prevented the Scottish barons from choosing him as umpire. Passing by the archives of the empire, which, had his claim been real, must have afforded numerous records of homage done by the Scottish princes, he caused the monasteries to be ransacked for old chronicles and histories of bygone days, and from these every passage was transcribed which seemed to favour his pretensions. The amount of all such transcripts, when taken collectively, merely went to show that the Scots had occasionally been defeated by the English, and had concluded peace on disadvantageous terms. It was proved, indeed, that when the King of Scotland, William, was taken prisoner at the battle of Alnwic, he was constrained, for the recovery of his liberty, to swear fealty to the victor. But even this faint claim to feudal superiority on one side, of submission on the other, was done away by Richard II. That monarch being desirous to conciliate the friendship of the Scottish king, before his departure for the Holy Land, renounced the homage, which he said, in express terms, had been extorted by his father.

The commissioners soon perceived with dismay, that all which they could urge against the pretensions of the English monarch, were utterly unavailing. They heard, too, that a royal commission had been issued for the fitting out of a great armament, and intelligence quickly followed that the army was on its march to Scotland.

Edward and his men-at-arms, reached Norham Castle, on the southern banks of the Tweed, where he insiduously invited the Scottish parliament, and all the competitors to attend him, in order to determine the cause which had been referred to his arbitration. They came, but not on equal terms, for the English king brought with him a large body of warlike men, ready to do his bidding; while the parliament found themselves betrayed into a situation in which it was impossible to make any stand, for the liberty and independence of their country. One anxious year for Scotland passed on, while Edward pretended, impartially, to examine the claims of the various competitors, for nine others had now started. Having thus gained time for the furtherance of his ambitious view, he pronounced sentence in favour of Baliol. Baliol was, therefore, placed on the throne of Scotland, with the shadow merely of royal authority, for many and humiliating were the concessions which Edward required of the seeming king. They were such as even his mild and yielding disposition could not brook, and at length, taking advantage of a favourable juncture, he resolved to make a desperate effort for the restoration of his rights.

Rumours were soon afloat that an English army was rapidly advancing, and scarcely was the intelligence received, than it was also heard that some of the most powerful among the Scottish nobles, with Robert Bruce, the father and the son, and the Earls of March and Angus, foreseeing the ruin of their country from the concurrence of intestine divisions, and a foreign invasion, had submitted to the English king. Other rumours followed, fraught with distress for Scotland. Some related that the English troops had actually crossed the Tweed without opposition, at Coldstream; others that Baliol, having procured for himself, and for his nation, Pope Celestine's dispensation from former oaths, renounced the homage which he had done to England, and was already at the head of a great army. Some spoke what they believed, others as they wished; but there was little ground for exultation as respected the movements of the Scotch king. Instead of bringing into the field any effective force, with which to oppose the encroachments of the English, he was constrained to hear of their continual successes. The castle of Roxborough was taken; Edinburgh and Stirling opened their gates to the enemy. All the southern portions of the country were readily subdued, and Edward, still better to reduce the northern, whose rocks and fastnesses afforded some security, sent for a strong reinforcement of Welch and Irish. These men, being accustomed to a desultory kind of warfare, were best fitted to pursue the fugitive Scots into the recesses of their glens and mountains. The quiet valleys and the upland solitudes, which had been untrodden by stranger steps for ages, were visited in consequence, and hostile men sat down beneath the shade of the old Oak of Ellerslie.