IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ ^ 0% ^ V] /. /{^ /y^M '/ 1.0 I.I ;^u£ His u us ^ Ufi 12.0 u NJ& |I.25||U ,.. ^ 6" ► Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST UMH STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 (716) 873-4503 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/iCIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Feati (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol y (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmi, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprim6e sont film^s en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaftra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — ^ signif ie "A SUIVRE ", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les c&rtes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seui cliche, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en has, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants iilustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 .^vw 'i ^ .'/) /7 ifr-ii r^ 33» LIVES OF THE SI' QUEENS OF ENGLAND, ^i jfxttm ^t T^Qxmm Conquest. ■,~* i NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM OFFICIiL RECORDS & OTHER AUTHENTIC DOCUMENTS, PRIVATE AS WELL AS PUBLIC. ^>- i t BY -V*- AGNES STRICKLAND. ' The treasures of antiquity laid up In old hlstori; rolls, I opened." Bkaumoht. A NEW EDITION, REVISE^^ AND GREATLY AUGMENTED, EMBELLISHED WITH PORTRAITS OF EVERY QUEEN. -'•>'■ V ' *■■ ' '':■■ ■ '■' ' IN EIGHT VOLUMES. VOL. L LONDON: COLBURN & CO., PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 185L 5« P ^'i ^ i ']> ■ i. m i.' i. i-lh m 'A i 4 X Ml' ';:.!' TO HER MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY, OUR SOVEREIGN LADY QUEEN VICTORIA, \&l )'■: 1. THE LIVES THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND ABB, BT GBAOIOUB FEBMISSIOIT, WITH FBELINOS OF FBOFOCND BESPEOT AND IiOTAL AFFBCTIOV, BT HEB majesty's FAITHFUL SUBJECT, AND DEVOTED SEBVANT, AGNES STEICZLAND. fh ) m PEEFAC] INTRODl MATILDi MATILDi ADELICIi MATILDA ELEANOR BERENGA ISABELLA ELEANOR OF ELEANOR Qu] MARGUER ISABELLA Ed^ PHILIPPA ANNE OF ] OF I ^t CONTENTS OF w. THE FIRST VOLUME. PAOl PBEFACE k INTRODUCTION 1 MATILDA OF FLANDERS, Quebn of William thb Con- QVKBOB 21 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, Quebn of Hbnbt 1 106 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, Second Queen of Henby I. . 166 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE, Queen of Sxephen .... 199 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, Queen of Henby II. . . 237 BERENGARIA OF NAVAItRE, Queen of Richabd I. . . 294 ISABELLA OF ANGOULEME, Queen of King John . . 328 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE, subnamed La Belle, Queen of Henby III 356 ELEANORA OF CASTILE, subnamed the Faithful, fiest Quebn of Edwabd 1 418 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE, Second Queen of Edwabd I. 452 ISABELLA OF FRANCE, subnamed the Faib, Queen of Edwabd II 471 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, Queen of Edwabd III. . . 543 ANNE OF BOHEMIA, subnamed the Good, fibst Queen of Richabd II 591 ri: PORTRAIT BERENGAR MATILDA 0 from MATILDA C Gold ADELICIA ( Seal MATILDA 0 conte ELEANORA herT BERENGARI^ Lion, ISABELLA 0 Monu: ELEANOR OP ' Paint( ILLUSTRATIONS ,1 ir I I. TO THE FIRST VOLUME. PORTRAIT OF MISS AGNES STRICKLAND Frontittpiece. BERENGARIA RECEIVED AT ACRE BY PHIUP AUGUSTUS, (Deicrlbed page 303.) Vignette Title. MATILDA OP FLANDERS, Queen-Consobt of William the Conqueror, from Montfaufon's Monumens page 21 (Described page 93.) MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, Queen-Consort of Henry I., from tho Golden Book of St. Albans in the British Museum 106 (Desoi-ibed page 1S4.) ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, Second Queen of Henry I., from her Seal in the possession of Abel Smith, Esq., M.P 166 (Described page 198.) MATILDA OF BOULOGNE, Queen-Consort op Stephen, from her contemporary Statue in Fumess Abbey, Lancashire 1 99 (Described page 23G.) ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, Queen Consort op Henry II., from her Tomb at Fontevraud 237 (Described page 338.) BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE, Queen-Consort op Richard C(eur-de- LiON, from her Tomb in the Abbey of Espan 294 (Described page 327.) ISABELLA OF ANGOULEME, Queen-Consort op John, from her Monument at Fontevraud 328 (Described page 354.) ELEANOR OF PROVENCE, Queen-Consort op Henry III., taken from 1 Painted Glass formerly at Strawberry Hill 356 \ (Described page 378.) Viii ILLUSTRATIONS. PAOI ELEANORA OP CASTILE, Firbt QueekConsobt of Edward I., from her Monument in WoHtniinHter Abbey 418 (Doicrlbed page 443.) MARGUERITE OF FRANCE, Skoond Queen or Edwaud I., from her Statuette on the Tomb of John of Eltham (her great Nephew) in Weitminstor Abbey 462 (Deicrlbed page 460.) ISABELLA OF FRANCE, Queen Consort of Edward II., from her Statuette on the Tomb of John of Elthani (her 8on) in Weat- minster Abbey 471 (Deioribed page 541.) PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, Queen Consort of Edward III., from a contemporary Bust over the Triforium in Briutol Cathedral £43 (Described page 576.) ANNE OF BOHEMIA, FinsT Queen-Consort op Richard II., from her Monument in Westminster Abbey 691 (Described page 613.) PREFACE TO THS XEW AND REVISED EDITION. Eleven years have elapsed since the first volume of these royal biographies issued from the press : fresh impressions of every successive volume have been repeatedly required, yet it was not till the completion of the undertaking that the work could be reprinted with perfect uniformity as a whole. A revised edition, embodying the collections which have been brought to light since the appearance of earlier im- pressions, is now offered to the world, embellished with por- traits of every queen in the series, from authentic and properly verified sources. The actual degree of beauty represented is no positive criterion of the charms of the original, but depends in a great measure on the state of the arts, and the ability of the sculptor, limner, or painter, to depict a pleasing likeness. The drawings have been made expressly for this work by G. P. Harding, Esq., the antiquarian artist, whose reputation stands deservedly high. Whatever improvements, however, may have been effected in the external form and fashion of our Queens, we never can contemplate them in their new costume with the same feel- VOL. I. b r ' 1 !| 5f, ! I X PREFACE. ings with which we have been wont to recognise the well- thumbed copies of the first familiar editions, in the hands of gentle readers of all ages and degrees, on the decks of steam- boats, in railroad carriages, and other places of general resort, where stranger links of the great chain of life and intelligence are accidentally drawn together for the journey of a day, never perchance to meet again. Not unfrequently on such occasions have we been obligingly oflfered a peep into " the new volume" by courteous fellow-travellers, unknown to us, who suspected not how intimately we were acquainted with its contents, far less how many a toilsome day and sleepless night it had cost us to trace out the actions and characteristics of many of the royal heroines of these biographies, of whom little beyond their names was previously known. The personal histories of the Anglo-Norman, several of the Plantagenet, and even two or three of the Tudor and Stuart queen-consorts, were involved in scarcely less obscurity than those of their British and Anglo-Saxon predecessors. Dimly, however, as their memorials floated over the surface of general history, they afforded indubitable evidence that substantial matter connected with those shadows would, on diligent search, be discovered, as, indeed, the result has proved. Documentary historians alone can appreciate the difficulties, the expense, the injury to health, to say nothing of the sacrifice of more profitable literary pursuits, that have been involved in this undertaking. The hope that the Lives of the Queens of England might be regarded as a national under- taking, honourable to the female character, and generally useful to society, encouraged us to the completion of the task. The historical biographer's business, however zealously and carefully performed in the first instance, when breaking un • wrought ground, must be often repeated before all the widely- scattere collectei the wis( those w althougl fountain is peculi; bering f< at last b: plexing t who has to establi historian' difficult J bear in m "Youshal one from i To sue! it has beei as well as of popula] some cases beneath a host of ass£ Writ perfo: are recorde for with th( truth and e be covered Nothing school of hii formation, r (■U I. 1-", Ml PREFACE. XI al of and lurity ssors. rface that on oved. Ities, the been if the nder- seful ly and un- idely- scattered and deeply-buried treasures of the Past can be collected together Truth lies not on the substratum, but, as the wisdom of ages bears testimony, in a well, which only those who will take the trouble of digging deeply can fmd, although it be easy enough to draw when once the sealed-up fountain has been discovered and opened. This observation is peculiarly applicable to those documents which, after slum- bering forgotten for centuries in their secret depositories, are at last brought forward, like incorruptible witnesses in a per- plexing trial, to confute the subtleties of some specious barrister who has exerted the persuasive powers of eloquent language to establish falsehood. " Facts, not opinions," should be the historian's motto ; and every persoj who engages i|i that diflficult and responsible department of literature ought to bear in mind the charge which prefaces the juryman's oath, — " You shall truly and justly try this cause, you shall present no one from malice, you shall excuse no one from favour," &c., &c. To such a height have some prejudices been carried, that it has been regarded as a species of heresy to record the evil as well as the good of persons who are usually made subjects of popular panegyric, and authors have actually feared in some cases to reveal the base metal which has been hidden beneath a meretricious gilding, lest they should provoke a host of assailants. It was not thus that the historians of Holy Writ performed their office. The sins of David and Solomon are recorded by them with stem fidelity and merited censure, for with the sacred annalists there is no compromise between truth and expediency. Expediency ! perish the word, if guilt be covered and moral justice sacrificed to such considerations ! Nothing has been more fatal to the cause of truth than the school of historical essay, which, instead of communicating in- formation, makes everything subservient to a political system, 63 t ;i l ! ' t; • W if \' <1V \ i xu PREFACE. repudiates inconvenient facts as gossip, and imposes upon the defrauded reader declarations about the dignity of history, instead of laying before him a digest of its evidences. But take the proceedings in a court of justice, — a trial for murder, for example, — how minutely is every circumstance investigated, what trifles tend to the conviction of guilt and the establish- ment of innocence. How attentive is the judge to the evidence, how indifferent to the eloquence of the advocate. He listens to the depositions of the witnesses, he jots them down, he collates them in his tablets, he compares the first statements with the cross-examinations, he detects discrepancies, he cuts short verbiage, he allows no quibbles or prevarication, but teeps every one to the point. In summing up, he proves that all depends on the evidence, nothing on the pleading ; if he condescend to notice the arguments of the rival counsel, it is only to caution the jury against being unduly biassed by mere elocution — words, not facts. The duty of the historian, like that of the judge, is to keep to the facts, and not to go one tittle beyond the evidences, far less to suppress or pervert them. Our Introduction contains brief notices of the ancient British and Saxon Queens. Their records are, indeed, too scanty to admit of any other arrangement. This series of royal biographies is, however, confined to the lives of our mediaeval queens, commencing with the consort of William the Conqueror, occupying that most interesting and important period of our national chronology, from the death of the last monarch of the Anglo-Saxon line, Edward the Con- fessor, in the year 1066, to the demise of the last sovereign of the royal house of Stuart, Queen Anne, in 1714. In this series of queens, thirty have worn the crown-matrimonial, and four the regal diadem of this realm. Whf religioi the deti hundrei again— splendo crusadej in their that of woe that treasure of York name an of public Tudor to system, tl: uncheckec of the Re papal yok assertion i time, and Commons later must, tion of tl affection fc sure reacti( established intrigues, e sovereign tion of 168 triumph of nental war ll ^•:U\ PREFACE. xm ! i What changes — wh. evolutions — ^what scenes of civil and religious strife — ^what t .iciting tragedies are not involved in the details of those four-and-thirty lives ! They extend over six hundred and fifty-two years, such as the world will never see again — ^the ages of feudality, of chivalry, and romance — ^ages of splendour and misery, that witnessed the brilliant chimera of crusades, the more fatal triumphs of our Edwards and Henrys, in their reiterated attempts to annex the crown of France to that of England, and the national destitution and domestic woe that followed the lavish expenditure of English blood and treasure in a foreign land — ^the deadly feud of the rival Roses of York and Lancaster, which ended in the extinction of the name and male line of Plantagenet — ^the stupendous changes of public opinion that followed the accession of the house of Tudor to the throne, effecting first the overthrow of the feudal system, then of the Romish theocracy, leaving royalty to revel unchecked in a century of absolute despotism. After the crisis of the Reformation and the emancipation of England from the papal yoke, came the struggle of the middle classes for the assertion of their political rights, overpowering royalty for a time, and establishing a democracy under the name of a Commonwealth; which ended, as all democracies sooner or later must, in a military dictatorship, followed by the restora- tion of the monarchical government and a fever of loyal affection for the restored sovereign. Then came the slow but sure reaction of democracy and dissent against royalty and the established church, assisted by a no-popery panic — ^the Orange intrigues, encouraged by a pope, against the Roman-catholic sovereign James II. — the conflicting passions of the revolu- tion of 1688 — ^the expulsion of the male line of Stuart — ^the triumph of an oli^rchy=-the Dutch reign, the era of Conti- nental wars, standing armies, national debt, and universal illUH nlH^ 'iiiM U i.f! 11: IP / XIV PREFACE. taxation — the contests between selfish parties and rival interests during the reign of Anne — and, finally, the happy establishment of a protestant succession, in the peaceful accession of the illustrious House of Brunswick to the throne of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland. With this progressive chain of national events and changes have the royal ladies in our series of queenly biographies been inextricably linked. To use the words of Guizot, " Great events have acted on them, and they have acted according to the events." Such as they were in life we have endeavoured to portray them, both in good and ill, without regard to any other considerations than the development of the facts. Their sayings, their doings, their manners, their costume, will be found faithfully chronicled in this work, which also includes the most interesting of their letters : the orthography of these, as well as the extracts from ancient documents, have been modernised for the sake of perspicuity. \ The materials for the lives of the Tudor and Stuart queens are of a more copious and important nature than the records of the consorts of our Anglo-Norman and Plantagenet sovereigns. We miss, indeed, the illuminated pages, and the no less picturesque details of the historians of the age of chivalry, rich in their quaint simplicity, for the last of the monastic chroniclers, John Rous, of Warwick, closed his labours with the blood-stained annals of the last of the Plantagenet kings. A new school of history commences with sir Thomas More's Life of Richard III. ; and we revel in the gorgeous descriptions of Hall and Holingshed, the characteristic anec- dotes of the faithful Cavendish, the circumstantial narratives of Stowe and Speed, and other annalists of less distin- guished names. It is, however, from the Acts of the Privy Council, the Parliamentary Journals, and the unpublished Regal well as Moi, at families importa and oth of the pj they ha afibrded illustrati' who, unl not opini person w] it is a W( Tudor erj tonian Lil the injur passed ov sentences voking ol the most of the pas The rec stances of tume of a these ladie the lives Howard, m work. Our ear] of Rome, protestant ^m PREFACE. XV Regal Records and MSS. in the State Paper Office, as well as from the treasures preserved in the Bihliotheque du Roi, at Paris, and the private MS. collections of historical families and gentlemen of antiquarian research, that our must important facts are gathered. State papers, autograph letters, and other important documents, which the antiquarian taste of the present age has drawn forth from the repositories where they have slumbered among the dust of centuries, have afforded their silent but incontrovertible evidence on matters illustrative of the private history of royalty, to enable writers who, unbiassed by the leaven of party spirit, deal in facts, not opinions, to unravel the tangled web of falsehood. Every person who has referred to original documents is aware that it is a work of time and patience to read the MSS. of the Tudor era. Those in the State Paper Office, and the Cot- tonian Library, have suffered much from accidents, and from the injuries of time. Water, and even fire, have partially passed over some ; in others, the mildew has swept whole sentences from the page, leaving historical mysteries in pro- voking obscurity, and occasionally baffling the attempts of the most persevering antiquary to raise the shadowy curtain of the past. The records of the Tudor queens are replete with circum- stances of powerful interest, and rich in the picturesque cos- tume of an age of pageantry and romance. Yet of some of these ladies so little beyond the general outline is known, that the hves of Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, and Katharine Howard, were for the first time opened to the public in this work. - Our earlier queens were necessarily members of the church of Rome, and there are only the biographies of five avowedly protestant queens in this series. Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, XVI PKKl'ACE. and Anne of Cleves died in communion with the church of Rome. Katharine Parr is, therefore, our first protestant queen, and the nursing mother of the Reformation. There is only another protestant queen-consort, Anne of Denmark, in this series, and our three queens-regnant, Elizabeth, Mary II., and Anne. Undoubtedly these princesses would have been better women if their actions had been more conformable to the principles inculcated by the pure and apostolic doctrines of the church of England. Sincere friends of that church will not blame those who transfer the reproach, which political creedists have brought on their profession, from her to the . individuals who have violated her precepts under the pretext of defending her interesta The queens of England were not the shadowy queens of tragedy or romance, to whom imaginary words and deeds could be imputed to suit a purpose. They were the queens of real life, who exercised their own free will in the words they spoke, the parts they performed, the influence they exercised, the letters they wrote. They have left mute but irrefragable wit- nesses of what they were in their own deeds, for which they, and not their biographers, must stand accountable. To tamper with truth, for the sake of conventional views, is an imbecility not to be expected of historians. Events spring out of each other : therefore, either to suppress or give a false version of one, leads the reader into a complicated mass of errors, having the same effect as the spurious figure with which a dishonestly disposed school-boy endeavours to prove a sum that baffles his feeble powers of calculation. Ay, and it is as easily detected by those who are accustomed to verify history by the tests of dates and documents. It is, however, the doom of every writer who has had the fidelity to bring forward suppressed evidences, or the courage to confute long-established falsehoods, to be PREFACE. XVU assailed, not only by the false but by the deluded, in the same spirit of ignorant prejudice with which Galileo was persecuted by the bigots of a darker age, for having ventured to demon- strate a scientific truth. What was the result as regarded Galileo and his discoveries? Why, truly, the poor philosopher was compelled to ask pardon for having been the first to call attention to a fact which it would now be regarded as the extreme of folly to doubt ! Neither the clamour of the angry supporters of the old opinion, nor the forced submission of the person who had exposed its fallacy, had in the least affected the fact, any more than the assertion that black is white can make evil good or good evil. Opinions have their date, and change with cir- cumstances, but facts are immutable. We have endeavoured to develop those connected with the biographies of the queens of England with uncompromising fidelity, without succumbing to the passions and prejudices of either sects or parties, the peevish ephemeridesof a day, who fret and buzz out their brief term of existence, and are forgotten. It is not for such we write : we labour in a high vocation, even that of enabling the lovers of truth and moral justice to judge of our queens and their attributes — not according to conventional censure or praise, but according to that unerring test, prescribed not by I " carnal wisdom, but by heavenly wisdom coming down from I above," which has said, " By their fruits ye shall know them." We have related the parentage of every queen, described her [education, traced the influence of family connexions and Inational habits on her conduct, both public and private, and ^iven a concise outline of the domestic, as well as the general listory of her times, and its effects on her character, and we lave done so with singleness of heart, unbiassed by selfish Interests or narrow views. If we have borne false witness in \l ' \ f'- :f r i 1 m\^< , 1- i . !' 1 i^£i,i ;,. - " ' '^n i ! ■■ 1 yj • •• XVlll PREFACE. ir 'p any instance, let those who bring accusations bring also proofs of their assertiona A queen is no ordinary woman, to be condemned on hear-say evidence ; she is the type of the heavenly bride in the beautiful 14th Psalm — "Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are holy, whatsoever things are pure, and of good report " in the female character, ought to be found in her. A queen-regnant occupies a still higher position — she is God's vicegerent upon earth, and is therefore to be held in reverence by his people. In propor- tion to her power, so are her responsibilities. Of the four queens-regnant, whose lives are narrated in this series of biographies, one only, queen Elizabeth, was possessed of abso- lute power. Her sister Mary I. had placed herself under the control of a cruel and tyrannical husband, who filled her council and her palace with his creatures, and rendered her the miserable tool of his constitutional bigotry. The case of the second Mary was not unlike that of the first, as regarded the marital tutelage under which she was crushed. Anne, when she designated herself " a crowned slave," described her position only too accurately. The Lives of the Tudor and Stuart female sovereigns form an important portion of this work ; there is much that is new to the general reader in each, in the shape of original anecdotes and inedited letters, especially in those of the royal Stuart sisters, Mary II. and queen Anne. The biographies of those princesses have hitherto been written, either in profound ignorance of their conduct on the part of the writer, or else, the better to work out general principles, in the form of vague outlines full of high-sounding eulogiums, in which all personal | facts were omitted. "We have endeavoured to supply thej blanks, by tracing out their actions, and compelling them to bear witness of themselves by their letters — such letters as! they permii have been glance over spent a lon< the dread £ for thou sha the secret co so much is d The mater the consort o lished docum the most im] France, papei from the curi powerful intr( could have pi kindness and historian, eve granted durin was fortunate discovery of a and contempo of the expatris the disjointec by one of the 14, who, with Pepys himself, the exiled que This " convent one of our tal( for protestant PREFACE. XIX they pennitted to survive them. Strange mysteries might liave been unfolded, if biographers had been permitted to glance over the contents of those papers which queen Mary spent a lonely vigil in her closet in destroying, when she felt the dread fiat had gone forth : " Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die and not live." The great marvel regarding the secret correspondence of royalty at such epochs, is not that so much is destroyed, but that any should survive. The materials for the biography of Mary Beatrice of Modena, the consort of James II., are chiefly derived from the unpub- lished documents of the period. Many of these, and indeed the most important, are locked up in the secret archives of France, papers that are guarded with such extreme jealousy from the curiosity of foreigners, that nothing less than the powerful introduction of M. Guizot, when premier of France, could have procured access to that collection. Through the kindness and liberality of that accomplished statesman- historian, every facility for research and transcription was granted during our residence in Paris in 1844. The result was fortunate beyond our most sanguine expectations, in the discovery of a very important mass of inedited royal letters and contemporary records connected with the personal history of the expatriated Stuarts. Not the least curious of these, are the disjointed fragments of a quaint circumstantial diary kept by one of the nuns of Chaillot, in the years 1711, 12, 13, and 14, who, with minuteness and simplicity worthy of Samuel Pepys himself, has recorded the proceedings and table-talk of the exiled queen during her occasional abode in that nunnery. This " convent log-book," as it has been pleasantly termed by one of our talented reviewers, was, of course, never intended for protestant eyes, for it admits us fully within the grate, and iil! ifiijiji! f i ! ii^ 't t, -■ i i I '\ ii Mil Ih 'I XX PREFACE. puts us in possession of things that were never intended to be whispered without the walls of that mysterious little world ; and though, as a whole, it would be somewhat weary work to go through the detail of the devotional exercises, fasts, and other observances practised by the sisters of St. Marie de Chaillot and their royal visitor, it abounds in characteristic traits and anecdotes. Much additional light is thrown on the personal history of the exiled royal family, by the incidents that have been there chronicled from the queen's own lips. The fidelity of the statements is verified by their strict agreement with other inedited documer ts, of the existence of which the sister of Chaillot could not have been aware. Besides these trea- sures, we were permitted to take transcripts of upwards of two hundred original autograph letters of this queen, being her confidential correspondence, for the last thirty years of her life, with her friend Fran9oise Angelique Priolo, and others of the nuns of Chaillot. To this correspondence we are indebted for many touching pictures of the domestic life of the fallen queen and her children, during their residence in the chateau of St. Germains. Some of the letters have been literally steeped in the tears of the royal writer, especially those which she wrote after the battle of La Hogue, during the i absence of king James, when she was in hourly expectation of the birth of her youngest child, and, finally, in her last utter | desolation. The friendly assistance rendered by M. Michelet, in the pro- 1 secution of our researches, in the Archives of the Kingdom of France, demands our grateful acknowledgments. We are also indebted, through the favour of M. Guizot, and the courtesy of I M. Mignet and M. Dumont, for inedited documents and royal letters from the Archives des Affaires Etrangeres; nor must PREFACE. XXI le pro- om of ■re also ,esy of 1 royal must the great kindness of M. ChampoUion, in facilitating our researches in the Bibliotlieque du Roi, be forgotten, nor the service rendered by him in the discovery and communication of a large portfolio of inedited Stuart papers, from the archives of St. Germain's. The Lives of the Queens of England necessarily close with that of queen Anne. She is the last queen of Great Britain of whom historical biography can be written, — at least, con- sistently with the plan of a work based on documents, and illustrated by original letters. Grateful acknowledgments are herewith offered to the noble and learned friends who have assisted us in the pro- " grass of the " Lives of the Queens of England," by granting us access to national and family archives, and favouring us with the loan of documents and rare books, besides many other courtesies, which have been continued with unwearied 'kindness to the conclusion of the work. Among these we Kvish to notice in particular the names of our departed friends, the late Sir Harris Nicolas, the historian of The Orders of Knighthood ; Henry Howard, Esq., of Corby; the late Sir William Wood, Garter king-of-arms ; Mr. Beltz, Lancaster Herald ; Sidney Taylor, Esq. ; and Monsieur Buchon, the lleamed editor of the Burgundian Chronicles ; Sir Cuthbert [Sharp ; Alexander Macdonald, Esq., of the Register House, {Edinburgh ; R K. Porter, and Miss Jane Porter. Of those who happily still adorn society, we have the lonour to acknowledge our obligations in various ways con- lected with the documentary portion of this work, to the Jaroness Willoughby de Eresby, the Dukes of Devonshire md Somerset, Lady Mary Christopher, the Countess of Strad- 3roke, Sir John and Lady Matilda Maxwell, of Polloc ; Lady ' \ h 1 \ ,1^ : !l Ml. ,11 1:1 I Ell w ■M xxii PREFACE. Oeorgiai - ^' ouTst, t]n- IMy Petro, Dowager Lady Bed- iiUl^lU^d, (3b 'i ♦lomas Phillfn Bart., of Middlehill ; D. E, Pa^Yoy, Esq., of Iffford ; Dr. Liiigard, the Rev. G. C. Tomlin- scm, the Rev. Jo8(!|)li Huntor, John Adc^ Repton, Esq., James ()rf-flard ijalliwell, Esq., John Bruce, Esq., Thomas Saunders, Etq., (iU., Coiiiptroller ; Rev. H. J^yrnonde, Thomas Garrard, Esq., Towu Clerk of Bristol ; Madame Colmaclio ; C. H. Howard, Esq., M.P. ; John Riddell, Esq., of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh ; Francis Home, Esq., Deputy Sherift' of Linlithgow ; Miss Mary Home ; Frederick Devon, Esq., of the Chapter-house ; J. H. Glover, Esq., her Majesty's librarian at Windsor-castle ; Sir F. Madden ; Sir Charles Young, Garter king-of-arms ; W. Courthope, Esq. ; and the Rev. Eccles Carter, of Bristol Cathedral. Nor must we omit this opportuuity of returning thanks to our unknowTi or anonymous correspondents, who have favoured us with transcripts and references, which have, occasionally, proved very useful ; and if they bmve not, in every instance, been either new to us, or availal Ic in the course of the work, have always been duly appreciated ris friendly attentions, and tokens of good-will. We cannot take our leave of the gentle readers who have kindly cheered us on our toilsome track, by the unqualified appr bation with which they have greeted every fresh volume, without expressing the satisfaction it has given us to have been able to afford mingled pleasure and instruction to c. ^xi ujs-ve a circle of friends — ^friends who, though personally .. r k^^u '\ ^ o us, have loved us, confided in our integrity, brought our Queer:, into their domestic circles, associated them with the sacred jc; • of home, and sent them as pledges of affection to their dcuj* \38 f?>i away, even to the remotest comers of the world. W which this ) with apathy and their m P.S.--I ha my own nam work I aTTi e- she ref US' ' to that of Rkydpn Hall, June, 18i w PREFACE. • •• XXIU world. We should be undeserving of ho popularity with which this work has been honoured, if W(? could look upon it with apathy, but we regard it as Qod's bli .,ing on our lubours and their sweetest reword. I •, P.S. — I have used the plural we, because I speak not only in my own name 'v\[ in that of my sister, whose shore in this work I an espucidl} desirous to notice to the world, although she refas' t'^ . How her name to appear on the title page with thai ot AGNES STRICKLAND. Rkydon Hall, SurFOJUK> June, 1861. \ • x\ *'';. ■ VI M %^' # . i 'I ^^^M( ^B ^ ' 1 ■■ '■i^. '■ ^^^^^H UIiYUON HAI-L, SnFFOLH.. -¥ji. "The queen ( the laws and either queen-re first of these is and exercising person, — as in who ascended 1 the consent of ancient British words : " Soler periis non discc No other p land under su sovereign lady. shed. Elizabel sovereign in na: royal husband a bury forfeited t LIVES 3 OP ■( p THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND. INTRODUCTION. " The queen of England," says that learned commentator on the laws and constitution of this country, Blackstone, "is either queen-regnant, queen-consort, or queen-dowager." The first of these is a female sovereign reigning in her own right, and exercising all the fimctions of regal authority in her own person, — as in the case of her present majesty queen Victoria, who ascended the throne, not only by rightful inheritance -and the consent of the people, but also in fiill accordance with the ancient British custom, noticed by Tacitus in these remarkable words : " Solent foeminarum ductu bellare, et sexum in im- periis non discemere."' No other princess has, however, been enthroned in this land under such auspicious circumstances a&r btlr present sovereign lady. Mary I. was not recognised without blood- shed. Ehzabeth's title was disputed. Mary II. was only a sovereign in name, and as much dependent on the wiU of her royal husband as a queen-couport. The archbishop of Canter- ])ury forfieited the primacy of England for declining either to * Life of Agricola. ■•MS' VOL. I. B ' 11 ''ii 'i \\ I -.; 1 {• 1 1 .1- 1 I- ; ■ 1 ■ 1 ' \ ' i t ! ' "■ ■■ i ^H P m r: INTRODUCTION. ' ( ! I i - ■ vi 4 assist at her coronation, or to take the oaths. The same scruples of conscience withheld the nonjuring bishops and clergy, and many of the nobihty and gentry of England, from performing their homage either to her, or to queen Ajme. Not one of those four queens, therefore, was crowned with mc unanimous consent of her people. But the rapturous acclama- tions that drowned the pealing of the bells and the thunders of the artillery, at the recognition of our beloved liege lady queen Victoria, in Westminster-abbey, can never be forgotten by those who then heard ^^he voices of a united nation Uplifted in assent. I was present, and felt the massy walls of the abbey thrill, from base to tower, with the mighty soimd, as the burst of loyal enthusiasm, within that august sanctuary, was echoed by the thronging multitude without, hailing her queen by universal suffrage. A queen-consort has many exemptions and minute pre- rogatives. For instance, she pays no toll, nor is she liable to any amercement in any court. In all cases, however, where the law has not expressly declared her exempted, she is upon the same footing with other subjects, being to all intents and purposes the king's subject, and not his equal.' The royal charters, in ancient times, were frequently signed by the queen as well as by the king ; yet this was not in the quality of a coadjutor in the authority by which the grant was made, but evidently in the capacity of a witness only, and on account of her high rank she was doubtless a most important one. In point of security of her life and person, the queen-consort is put on the ^ame footing with the king. It is equally treason (by the statute of the 25th Edward III.) " to compass or imagine the death of our lady the king's companion, as of the king hims "The SIfiMn is entitled to some pecuniary advantages, which distinct revenue," continues Blackstone, "one of which, and formerly the most important, was the aurum regime, or queen-gold, a royal revenue belonging to every queen-consort during her marriage with the king, and due from every person who hath made a voluntary offering or ^.1 J INTRODUCTION. 3 fine to the king amounting to ten marks or upwards ; and it is due in the proportion of one-tenth part more, over and above the entire offering or fine made to the king,' and becomes an actual\debt of record to the queen's majesty by the mere recording of the fine. Thus, if an hundred marks of silver be given to the king to take in mortmain, or to have . a fair, market, park, chase, or free-warren, then the queen was entitled to ten marks in silver, or rather its equivalent — one mark in gold, by the name of queen-gold, or aurum regince. Another very ancient perquisite of the queen-consort, as mentioned by old writers and quoted by the learned round- head Prynne,^ (who after the Restoration became, when keeper of the Tower records, a most zealous stickler for the privi- leges of the queens of England,) is, that on the taking of a whale on the coasts, which is a royal fish, it shkll be divided b 'en the king and queen ; the head only being the king's property, and the tail the queen's. The reason of this xvhimsical division, as assigned by our ancient records, was to furnish the queen's wardrobe with whalebone.' Now, this shrewd conjecture of the learned civilian quoted by Blackstone may be considered as sufficieuu authority by barristers and judges to settle the point, but as it relates to matters on which ladies, generally speaking, possess more critical know- ledge than lawyers or antiquaries, we beg to observe that the royal garments-feminine would be poorly provided with the aiiicle alluded to if her majesty depended on this contingency alone for her supply, as the peculiar kind of whalebone used in a lady's dress grows in the head of the fish, which, as we have seen, falls to the share of the king. It is well known that the ward of Queenhithe derives its name from the circumstance of vessels unlading at that httle harboiu" paying tolls to the queen of Henry Iife| Eleanor of Provence. The covetous disposition of tliis pirneess induced her to use her influence with the king, in order to compel every vessel freighted with com, or other valuable lading, to land at her quay, to increase the revenue she drew fi^m this source. It is well for the interests of trade and commerce Prynne's Aurum Kegiuse. ^ Annim ReginsQ. B 2 ' Bracton. Brittou. HI ■ I 1; :! - 1 ' ( ' ' , :, I ; i iiijiii'ilH^ \ ■ \ \ .*■ il 1 1 I ;i Lit X,. i ! m : ■ M, 'if ,1 4 INTRODUCTION. that oiir latter queens have been actuated by very different feelings towards the subjects of their royal husbands, than the sordid selfishness practised by this princess. The queen-regnant, in addition to the cares of government, has to preside over all the arrangements connected with female royalty, wliich, in the reign of a married king, devolve on the queen-consort ; she has, therefore, more to occupy her time and attention than a king, for whom the laws of England expressly provide that he is not to be troubled with his wife^s affairs, like an ordinary husband. There have been but three unmarried kings of England, — ^WiUiam Rufds, Edward V., and Edward VI. The two last died at tender ages; but the ' Red King ' was a determined bachelor, and his court, unrestrained by the presence and beneficial influence of a queen, was the focus of profaneness and profligacy. The earliest British queen named in history is Cartismandua, who, though a married woman, appears to have been the sove- reign of the Brigantes, reigning in her own right. This was about the year 50. . Boadicea, or Bodva, the warrior queen of the Iceni, suc- ceeded her deceased lord, king Prasutagus, in the regal office. Speed gives us a curious print of one of her coins in his Chronicle. The description of her dress and appearance on the morning of the battle that ended so disastrously for the royal Amazon and her countiy, quoted from a Roman his- torian, is remarkably picturesque : — " After she had dismounted from her chariot, in w^iich she had been driving from rank to rank to encourage her troops, attended by lier daughters and her numerous army she proceeded to a throne of marshy turfs, apparelled, after the fashion of the Romans, in a loose gown of changeable colours, under which she wore a kirtle very thicklj^^i^ited, the tresses of her yellow hair hanging to the skirts opifer dress, ^bout her neck she wore a chain of gold, and bore a light spear in her hand, being of person tall, and of a comely, cheerful, and modest countenance; and so awhile she stood, pausing to sm*vey her army, and being regarded with reverential silence, she addressed to them an im- passioned and eloquent speech on the WTongs of her countrj'." The overth the year 6( There is laws called to Alfred, v by a Britisl Proba, or t' Britons, an( minority of subjects whi some laws, Martian stat learned prim the Greek t( laws, embrac were afterwaj the Confessoi successors of as by their A Rowena, t] the unhappy gem in the y our early ann? and her faith up with the ti would be diffi Among th nursing moth firmly establis Claudia, and trious of thesi king of Paris, band, Ethelbe was so bright church at Can manner the m Northumbria, • Holliu INTRODUCTION. 5 The overthrow and death of this heroic princess took place in the year 60. There is every reason to suppose that the noble code of laws called the Common Law of England, usually attributed to Alfred, were by him derived from the laws first established by a British queen. " Martia," says HoUnshed,* " sumamed Proba, or the Just, was the widow of Gutiline king of the Britons, and was left protectress of the realm during the minority of her son. Perceiving much in the conduct of her subjects which needed reformation, she devised sundry whole- some laws, which the Britons, after her death, named the Martian statutes. Alfred caused the laws of this excellently learned princess, whom all commended for her knowledge of the Greek tongue, to be established in the reahn." These laws, embracing trial by jiuy and the just descent of property, were afterwards collated and still farther improved by Edward the Confessor, and were as pertinaciously demanded from the successors of William the Conqueror by the Anglo-Normans, as by their Anglo-Saxon subjects. Rowena, the wily Saxon princess, who, in an evil hour for the unhappy people of the land, became the consort of Vorti- gem in the year 450, is the next queen whose name occurs in our early annals. Guiniver, the golden-haired queen of Arthur, and her faithless successor and namesake, have been so mixed up with the tales of the romance poets and troubadours, that it would be difficult to verify a single fact connected with either. Among the queens of the Saxon Heptarchy we hail the nursing mothers of the Christian faith in this island, who firmly established the good work begun by the British lady Claudia, and the empress Helena. The first and most illus- trious of these queens was Bertha, the daughter of Cherebert king of Paris, who had the glory of converting her pagan hus- band, Ethelbert, the king of Kent, to that faith of which she was so bright an ornament, and of planting the first Christian church at Canterbury. Her daughter, Ethelburga, was in like manner the means of inducing her valiant lord, Edwin king of Northumbria, to embrace the Christian faith. Eanfled, the - Holiiishtiu's Description of England, vol. i. p. 298 ; 4to ed. '. ' i 1 . i • ■ { hi] i ! ■ ■ ■ s \ ' ■ -■ fit t ' I i i \-\\ ' \ M \ 1 1 1 i ' i 1 1.J ; i t \: J I i M i 6 INTRODUCTION. i "!< P daughter of this illustrious pair, afterwards the consort of Oswy king of Mercia, was the first individual who received the sacra- ment of baptism in Northumbria. In the eighth century, the consorts of the Saxon kings were excluded, by a solemn law, from sharing in the honours of royalty, on account of the crimes of the queen Edburga, who had poisoned her husband, Brihtric king of Wessex;' and even when Egbert consolidated the kingdoms of the Heptarchy into an empire, of which he became the Bretwalda, or sove- reign, his queen Redburga was not permitted to participate in his coronation. Osburga, the first wife of Ethelwulph, and the mother of the great Alfred, was also debarred from this distinction; but when, on her death, or, as some historians say, her divorce, Ethelwulph espoused the beautiful and ac- compUshed Judith, the sister of the emperor of the Franks, he violated this law by placing her beside him on the King's- bench, and allowing her a chair of state, and all the other dis- tinctions to which her high birth entitled her. This afforded a pretence to his ungallant subjects for a general revolt, headed by his eldest son Ethelbald, by whom he was deprived of half his dominions. Yet Ethelbald, on his father's death, was so captivated by the charms of the fair cause of his parricidal re- belhon, that he outraged all Christian decency by marrying her. The beautiful and unfortunate Elgiva, the consort of Edwy, has afforded a favourite theme for poetry and romance; but the partisans of her great enemy, Dunstan, have so mystified her history, that it would be no easy matter to give an authentic account of her life. Elfrida, the fair and false queen of Edgar, has acquired an infamous celebrity for her remorse- less hardness of heart. She did not possess the talents neces- sary to the accomplishment of her design of seizing the reins of government after she had assassinated her unfortunate step- son at Corfe-castle, for in this she was entirely circumvented by the pohtical genius of Dunstan, the master-spirit of the age. ' Although this infamous woman escapetl the vengeance of human justice by fleeing to the continent, slie \va« reduced to such abject destitution, tliat Asscr declares she was seen Ixjgging her bread at Puvia, where she died. — Note to Malmesbury, by Dr. Giles. INTRODUCTION. 7 Emma of Normandy, the beautiful queen of Ethelred, and afterwards of Canute, plays a conspicuous part in the Saxon annals. There is a Latin treatise, written in her praise by a contemporary historian, entitled, " Encomium Emma ;" but, notwithstanding the florid commendations there bestowed upon her, the character of this queen must be considered a doubtful one. The manner in which she sacrificed the interests "of her children by her first husband, Ethelred, to those by her second unnatural marriage with the Danish conqueror, is Uttle to her credit, and was certainly never forgiven by her son, Edward the Confessor j though that monarch, after he had witnessed the triumphant manner in which she cleared herself of the charges brought against her by her foes, by passing through the ordeal of walking bare- foot, unscathed, over the nine red-hot ploughshares in Win- chester cathedral, threw himself at her feet in a transport of filial penitence, implored her pardon with tears, and sub- mitted to the discipline at the high altar, as a penance for having exposed her to such a test of her innocence.' Editha, the consort of Edward the Confessor, was not only an amiable, but a learned lady. The Saxon historian, Ingul- phus, Iiimself a scholar at Westminster-monastery, close by Editha's palace, affirms that the queen used frequently to intercept him and his school-fellows in her walks, and ask them questions on their progress in Latin, or, in the words of his translator, " moot points of grammar with them, in which she oftentimes posed them." Sometimes she gave them a piece of silver or two out of her own purse, and sent them to the palace-buttery to breakfast. She was skilful in the works of the needle, and with her own hands she embroidered the garments of her royal husband, Edward the Confessor. But well as the acquirements and tastes of Editha qualified her to be the companion of that learned prince, he never treated her with the affection of a husband, or ceased to remember that her father had supported the Danish usurpation, and imbrued his hands in the blood of the royal line. The last Anglo-Saxon queen, Edith, or Alfgith, sumamed ' Milner's Winchester. il^i i siiiii I rlir ;;il 1 \ I X ] \ 8 INTRODUCTION. I'! ' the Fair, the faithful consort of the unfortunate Harold, was the sister of the earls Nxorcar and Edwin, so celebrated in the Saxon annals, and the widow of Griffin, prince of North Wales. The researches of sir Henry Ellis, and other anti- quaries of the present day, lead to the conclusion that the touching instance of woman^s tender and devoted love, — the verification of Harold's mangled body among the slam at Hastings, generally attributed to his paramour, belongs rather to queen Edith, his disconsolate widow. Such is the brief summary of our early British and Anglo- Saxon queens. A far more important position on the pro- gressive tableau of history is occupied by the royal ladies who form the series of our mediseval queens, commencing with Matilda of Flanders, the wife of William the Conqueror, the mother of a mighty line of kings, whose august representative, our hege lady queen Victoria, at present wears the crown of this realm. The spirit of chivalry, bom in the poetic South, was not understood by the matter-of-fact Saxons, who re- garded women as a very subordinate link of the social chain. The Normans, having attained to a higher gi-ade of civiliza- tion, brought with them the refined notion, inculcated by the troubadours and minstrels of France and Italy, that the softer sex was entitled, not only to the protection and tenderness, but to the homage and service of all true knights. The revo- lution in popular opinion effected by this generous sentiment elevated the character of woman, and rendered the consort of an Anglo-Norman or Plantagenet king a personage of scarcely less importance than her lord. " There is something," observes an eloquent contemporary, " very peculiar in the view which we obtain of history in tracing the lives of queens-consort. The great world is never entirely shut out : the chariot of state is always to be seen, — the soimd of its wheels is ever in our ears. We observe that the thoughts, the feelings, the actions of her whose course we are tracing are at no time entirely disconnected with him by whose hand the reins are guided, and we not unfrequently detect the im- pulse of her finger by the direction in which it moves." Whether beloved or not, the influence on society of the wife INTRODUCTION. 9 and companion of the sovereign must always be considerable; and for the honour of womankind be it remembered, that it has, generally speaking, been exerted for worthy purposes. Our queens have been instruments, in the hands of God, for the {idvancement of civilization, and the exercise of moral and religious influence; many of them have been brought from foreign climes to plant the flowers and refinements of a more poUshed state of society in our own, and well have they, for the most part, performed their mission. William the Conqueror brought the sword and the feudal tenure. He burned villages, and turned populous districts into his hunting-grounds. His consort, Matilda, introduced her Fle- mish artisans, to teach the useful and profitable manufactures of her native land to a starving population : she brought her architects, and set them to build the stately fanes, which -»ave employment to another class of her subjects, and encou- raged the fine arts, — sculpture, painting, and needle-work. Above all, she bestowed especial regard and honours on the poets and choniclers of her era. The consort of Henry I., Matilda of Scotland, familiarly designated by her subjects "Maude, the gode queue," not only excelled in personal works of piety and charity, and in refining the morals and manners of the licentious Norman court, but exerted her influence with her royal husband to obtain the precious boon of a charter for the people, which secured to them the privilege of being governed by the righteous laws of Edward the Confessor. Her graceful successor, Adehcia of Louvaine, was, like herself, a patroness of poetry and history, and did much to improve the spirit of the age by affording a bright example of purity of conduct. Our third Matilda, the consort of Stephen, was tha founder of churches and hospitals, and the friend of the poor. It is certain that her virtues, talents, and conjugal heroism did more to preserve the crown to her husband than the swords of the warhke barons who espoused his cause. Eleanora of Aquitaine, though defective in her moral conduct, was a useful queen in her statistic and commercial regulations. Berengaria, the crusading queen, of whom so much has m\ I t: m * ^ ! , I ' 'ru. HI: ■ fi ! i , H : E i . i i. ': ' '' , 4 i r i : „ , 1 LLJiril ^i 10 INTRODUCTION. been said and so little known, before the publication of her biography in the first edition of tins work, was only in- fluential through her mild virtues, her learning, and her piety; but she never held her state in England, which, during the greater portion of her warlike husband^s reign, was sutfering from the evils of absenteeism. Isabella of Angoulerae, the consort of John, was one of the few queens who have left no honourable memorials, either on the page of history or the statistics of thif countiy. Neither can any thing be said in praise of Eleanor of Provence, the consort of Henry III., whose selfishness, avarice, and reckless extravagance offended all ranks of the people, especially the citizens of London, and precipitated the realm into the horrors of civil war. The moral beauty of the character of Eleanor of Castile, the consort of Edward I., her wisdom, prudence, and feminine virtues, did much to correct the evils which the follies of her predecessors had caused, and restored the queenly office to its proper estimation. Her amiable successor, Marguerite of France, has left no other records than those of compassion and kindlin >s of heart. For the honour of female royalty be it noticed, that Isabella of France is the only instance of a queen of England acting in open and shameless violation of the duties of her high vocation, allying herself with traitors and foreign agitators against her king and husband, and staining her name with the combined crimes of treason, adultery, murder, and regicide. It would, indeed, be difficult to parallel, in the history of any other coimtry, so many beautiful examples of conjugal devotedness as are to be found in the annals of the queens of England. Much of the statistic prosperity of England during the long, glorious reign of Edward III., may with justice be attributed to the admirable qualities and popular government of queen Philippa, who had the wisdom to establish, and the good taste to encourage, home manufac- tures, and never failed to exert her influence in a good cause. Under the auspices and protection of the blameless Anne of Bohemia^ the first queen of Richard II., we hail the first INTKODUCTION. 11 (lawn of the principles of the Reformation. Tlie seeds that were then sown under lier gentle influence, though ap- parently crushed in the succeeding reigns, took deeper root than shallow observers suspected, and were destined to spring up in the sixteenth century, and to produce fruits that should extend to the ends of the earth, when, in the fulness of time, the gospel should be preached by English missionaries to nations, of whose existence neither Wickliffe nor his royal patroness, queen Anne of England, in the fourteenth century, were aware. Isabella of Valois, the virgin widow of Richard II., whose eventful history has been for the first time recorded in this work, had no scope for queenly influence in tliis country, being recalled at so tender an age to her own. Rapin has been betrayed by his vindictive hatred of his own country to assert, that every king of England who married a French princess was unfortunate, and came to an untimely end ; but how far this assertion is borne out by facts, let the triumphant career of Henry V., the husband of Katherine of Valois, daughter of Charles VI. of France, answer. The calamitous fate of Henry VI. resulted, not from liis marriage with Margaret of Anjou, but was brought about by a con- catenation of circumstances, which inevitably prepared the way for the miseries of his reign long before that unfortunate princess was bom. The fatal deviation from the regular line of the regal succession in the elevation of Henry IV. to the throne, ensured a civil war as soon as the representative of the elder line should see a favourable opportunity for asserting his claims. The French wars, by exhausting the resomrces of the crown, compelled the ministers of Henry VI. to resort to excessive taxation, and the yet more unpopular expedient of debasing the silver coinage j and thus the afiections of the people were alienated. The mihtary talents of the duke of York, his wealth, and family alliance with the most powerful and popular nobleman in England, — the earl of Warwick, must necessarily have turned the scale against the impoverished sovereign, even if he had been better fitted by nature and education to maintain a contest. The enei^es of Henry's queen, in truth, supported his cause long after any other person *M h^^i^r ■ :il i!!^ :i|iM| I! IP I In- Mil: i! i 12 INTUODUCTION. V i I ,■' I -y- p % would have regarded it as liopeless. Iler courage and firmness delayed a catastrophe which nothing could avert. It is a curious study to trace the effect of the political changes of those unquiet times on the consorts of Henry VI., Edward IV , and Richard III. Three women more essen- tially opposite in their characteristics and conduct than the three contemporary, but not hostile, queens of the rival roses, — Margaret of Anjou, Elizabeth Woodville, and Anne Neville, it would be difficult to find. The first, of royal birth and foreign education, schooled in adversity from her cradle, hon-like and indomitable under every vicissitude j the second, the daughter of one English knight and the widow of another, fair, insinuating, full of self-love and world-craft, inflated by sudden elevation, yet vacillating and submitting to become the tool of her enemies in her reverse of fortune ; the third, the type of the timid dove, who is transferred without a struggle from the talons of the stricken eagle who had first seized her, to the grasp of the wily kite. How strangely were the destinies of these three unfortunate queens allied in calamity by the political changes of an era, which is thus briefly defined by the masterly pen of Guizot : — " The history of England in the fifteenth century consists of two great epochs, — the French wars without, those of the roses within, — ^the wars abroad and the wars at home. Scarcely was the foreign war terminated when the civil war commenced; long and fatally was it continued while the houses of York and Lancaster contested the throne. When those sanguinary disputes were ended, the high English aristocracy found themselves ruined, decimated, and depri\'ed of the power they had formerly exercised. The associated barons could no longer control the throne when it was ascended by the Tudors ; and with Heniy VII., in 1485, the era of centralization and the triumph of royalty commenced." The sovereign and the great body of the people from that time made common cause to prevent the re-establishment of an oligarchy, which had been found equally inimical to tlie rights of the commons and the dignity of the crovm I queens of Eu] syHtem to its cl queen, Matilda chiding with A I herself the sad Icratic dictators Isurnamed 'the I new epoch. Elizabeth of [connecting Unk rfudor. Accow I was the rightful I descended to ac [contested the re, I of giving peace Ihi^r victorious c Irival roses of Y( Iwas thus that J jwas enabled to (down the barric |ari.stocracy had < \uiprivileged chu joligarcliy, looked (stone in the alta tlie ruins of feud rapid, that in ■orcible language he Eighth's mt |Croinwell, emanj he other from t •e dangerous, eniy's parvenu it lasted, more xclusiveness of phemeral existei md the spirit o nowledge throm Having thus briefly traced the histor;/ and infl-uence of the ■from the na- nl INTRODUCTION. 13 queens of Englard from the ('Htnblishnient of the feudal |8ystcm to it8 cloae, commencing with the first Anglo-Norman queen, Matilda the wife of William the Conqueror, and con- cluding with Anne of Wanvick, the last Plantagenct quev.-n, herself the sad representative of the mightiest of all the aristo- cratic dictators of the fifteenth »Mitury — the earl of Wanvick, surnanied ' the king-maker,' we proceed to consider those of the I new epoch. Elizabeth of York, the consort of Henry VII., is the I connecting link between the royal houses of Plantagenet and ^fudor. According to the legitimate order of succession she I was the rightful sovereign of the realm, and thougli she con- descended to accept the crown-matrimonial, she might have contested the regal garland. She chose the nobler distinction of giving peace to her bleeding country by tacitly investing lii^r victorious champion with her rights, and blending the Irivjil roses of York and Lancaster in her bridal-wreath. It Iwas thus that Henry VII., unimpeded by conjugal rivalry, Iwas enabled to work out his enhghtened plans, by breaking Idown the barriers with wliich the pride and power of the laristocracy had closed the avenues to preferment against the liuiprivileged classes. The people, tired of the evils of an loligarchy, looked to the sovereign for protection, and the first jstone in the altar of civil and religious liberty was phmted on the ruins of feudality. The effects of the new system were so [i-apid, that in the succeeding reign we behold, to use the forcible language of a popular French writer, " two of Henry he Eighth's most powerful ministers of state, Wolsey and Cromwell, emanating, the one from the butcher's shambles, the otlier from the blacksmith's forge." Extremes, however, re dangerous, and the despotism which these and other of lenry's parvenu statesmen contrived to establish was, while \i lasted, more cruel and oppressive than the tyranny and cxclusiveness of the feudal magnates; but it had only an ephemeral existence. The art of printing had become general, [ind the spirit of freedom was progressing on the wings of mowledge through the land. The emancipation of England ^om the pa^^^al domination followed so immediately, that it lit 1 1 I I ) * 11 M I J i r I i ::,'Mil i^l •; \ 14 INTRODUCTION. appears futile to attribute that mighty change to any other cause. The stormy passions of Henry VIII., the charms and genius of Anne Boleyn, the virtues and eloquence of Katharine Parr, all had, to a certain degree, an effect in hastening the crisis ; but the Reformation was cradled in the printing-press, and established by no other instrument. In detailing the successive historic tragedies of the queens of Henry VIII., we enter upon perilous groimd. The lapse of three centuries has done so little to calm the excited feelings caused by the theological disputes vnth which their names are blended, that it is scarcely possible to state facts impartially without displeasing those readers, whose opinions have been biassed by party writers on one side or the other. Henry VIII. was married six times, and divorced thrice : he beheaded two of his wives, and left two surviving widows, — Anne of Cleves and Katharine Parr. As long as the virtuous influence of his first consort, Katharine of Arragon, lasted, he was a good king, and, if not a good man, the evil passions which rendered the history of the latter years of his hfe one continuous chro- nology of crime, were kept within bounds. Four of his queens claimed no higher rank than the daughters of knights : of these, Amie Boleyn and Katharine Howard were cousins- german; both were manied by Henry during the life of a pre- viously wedded consort of roj'^al birth, and were alike doomed by the remorseless tyrant to perish on a scaffold as soon asH considered a tesl the ephemeral passion which led to their fatal elevation to al ment to the ch throne had subsided. We know of no tragedy so full oil house of Stuart I circumstances of painful interest as the lives of those unhappy ■ wives and chiL ladies. It ought never to be forgotten, that it was to theH who would not wisdom and moral courage of his last queen, the learned and I tion of all poste amiable Katharine Parr, that England is indebted for theB at that period v preservation of her imiversities from the general plunder oiMoi Eothen, "su ecclesiastical property. I a man with a p The daughters of Henry VIII., Mary and Elizabeth, occupy B some sentiment more important places than any other ladies in this series of Bunder the old royal biographies. They were not only queens but sovereigns, E amount of work girded with the sword of state and invested wit knighthood at their respective inaugurations, they represei not merely a Maiy virtual] evil hour bot finally the n bigot, Philip Purely En mother's side the regal bloc her royal gran ing, a daughte manners, custc she reigned, by the foreign her subjects as great regnal ts and glorious ah to be regarded The life of e involved with t revolutions or d a task of extrer to the consorts for upwards of tUJlCU INTRODUCTION. 15 her and fine the ress, eens I apse lings s are I tiallv been] ^III, 1 two I Aleves of liis good ideredl cliro- meeiisl ;«: ofl lusins- a pre- oomedl )on 1 to al II of |ihappy bo the sd and |or the! ider of jccupy fcries of [reigiis, lurs of ■U. IIMI j they represented their male predecessors in the regal oflSce, not merely as legislators, but, if necessary, as military leaders. Mary virtually abdicated her high office when she became, in evil hour both for herself and her subjects, the consort, and finally the miserable state-tool and victim, of the despotic bigot, Philip the Second of Spain. Purely English in her descent, both on the father and mother's side for many generations, Elizabeth, notwithstanding the regal blood of the Plantagenets, which she derived from her royal grandmother, Elizabeth of York, was, literally speak- ing, a daughter of the people, acquainted intimately with the manners, customs, and even the prejudices of those over whom she reigned. This nationality, which never could be acquired by the foreign consorts of the Stuart kings, endeared her to her subjects as the last of a line of native sovereigns, while her great regnal talents rendered her reign prosperous at home and glorious abroad, and caused the sway of female monarchs to be regarded as auspicious for the time to come. The life of every queen of England whose name has been involved with the conflicting parties and passions excited by revolutions or diflFerences of religious opinions, has always been a task of extreme difficulty. More peculiarly so with regard to the consorts of Charles I., Charles II., and James II., since, for upwards of a century after the revolution of 1688, it was considered a test of loyalty to the reigning family and attach- ment to the church of England to revile the sovereigns of the house of Stuart, root and branch, and to consign them, their wives and children, their friends and servants, and every one who would not rniite in desecrating their tombs, to the reproba- tion of all posterity. Every one who attempted to write history at that period was, to use the metaphor of the witty author of Eothen, " subjected to the immutable law, which compels a man with a pen in his hand to be uttering now and then some sentiment not his own, as though, like a French peasant under the old regime, he were bound to perform a certain amount of work on the public highways." HappUy the ne- cessity, if it ever existed, of warping the web of truth to fit The title Ith e exigencies of a political crisis, exists no longer. 'a\ Hi- \m ; ( ^ i I in ;1H^ I m u wm m \\ m '■ t 1 ! ; • u. '■ • i ■ ( 1 I ll { . -it 1 i liJ' 1 U\i if ^m 16 INTRODUCTION. i] ■' f If' of the present illustrious occupant of the throne of Great Britain to the crown she wears is founded on the soundest principles, both of constitutional freedom of choice in the people, and legitimate descent from the ancient monarchs of the realm. The tombs of the last princes of the male line of the royal house of Stuart were erected at the expense of their august kinsman George IV. That generous prince set a noble example of liberal feeling in the sympathy which he was the first to accord to that unfortunate family. He did more ; he checked the hackneyed system of basing modem history on the abuse of James II. and his consort, by authorizing the pubhcation of a portion of the Stuart papers, and employing his hbrarian and historiographer to arrange the life of that prince from his journals and correspondence. The consort of James II., Mary Beatrice of Modena, played an important rather than a conspicuous part in the historic drama of the stirring times in which her lot was cast. The tender age at which she was reluctantly torn from a convent to become the wife of a prince whose years nearly trebled her own, and the feminine tone of her mind, deterred her from interfering in affairs of state during the sixteen years of her residence in England. The ascetic habits and prematm'e superannuation of her unfortimate consort compelled her, for the sake of her son, to emerge at length from the sanctuary of the domestic altar to enter upon the stormy arena of pubhc life, when she became, and continued for many years after, the rallying point of the Jacobites. All the plots and secret correspondence of that party were carried on under _ . her auspices. There are epochs in her life when she comes^l ^ ^^ ^^^" before us in her beauty, her misfortunes, her conjugal tender- 1 , . ^"^" ^* ness, and passionate maternity, hke one of the distressed I . . — ^P *^^ queens of Greek tragedy struggling against the decrees of adverse destiny. The sUght mention of her that appears on the surface of English liistory has been penned by chroniclers of a different spirit from "Griffith," — men whose hearts were either hardened by strong poUtical and polemic animosities, or who, as a matter of business or expediency, did tlieir utmost to defame her, because she was the wife tunate son. Burnet, was r< and calumny i] first, like swei the last vanisl is happily writ " We have noi the facts/' in j of praise or cei evidence. It was the Louis XIV., th( led to the iufra( France and Spaii to an empty til dependent on his of his own roys Great Britain s quarter the fleu royal widow and Louis XIV. at tl Constance of Bri nition of the tit Beatrice exhibits! Shakspeare to tj EngUsh throne: his illustrious coH ivas proposed to her, by his coars] crown by apron-st two degrees nearej fight to the crowj '^ the order of lea tuc male heir, Vv7 VOL. I. .1 INTRODUCTION. 17 was the wife of James II. and the mother of his unfor- tunate son. The bitterest of her unprovoked enemies, Burnet, was reduced to the paltry expedients of vituperation and calumny in the attacks he constantly makes on her. The first, like swearing, is only an imbecile abuse of words, and the last vanishes before the slightest examination. History is happily written on different principles in the present age. " We have now," says Guizot, " to control our assertions by the facts ;" in plaui Enghsh, to say nothing either in the way of praise or censure which cannot be substantiated by sound evidence. It was the personal influence of Mary Beatrice with Louis XIV., the dauphin, and the duke of Burgundy, that led to the infraction of the peace of Ryswick by the courts of France and Spain, through their recognition of her son's claims to an empty title : to please her, Louis XIV. allowed the dependent on his bounty to be proclaimed at the gates of one of his own royal palaces as James III., king not only of Great Britain and Ireland, but even of France, and to quarter the fleur-de-lis unmolested. The situation of the royal widow and her son, when abandoned by their protector Louis XIV. at the peace of Utrecht, closely resembles that of Constance of Bretagne and her son Arthur after the recog- nition of the title of king John by their aUies; but Maiy Beatrice exhibits none of the fierce maternity attributed by Shakspeare to the mother of the rejected claimant of the English throne: her feelings were subdued by a long ac- quaintance with adversity and the fever of disappointed hope. Our Dutch king, William III., is supposed to have intimated his contempt for the fair sex in general, and his jealousy of his illustrious consort's superior title in particular, when it was proposed to confer the sovereignty of Great Britain on her, by his coarse declaration that " he would not hold the crown by apron-strings." But the fact was, that Mary, though two degrees nearer in blood to the regal succession, had no more right to the crown than himself as the law then stood ; and if the order of legitimacy were to be violated by setting aside why it should be done fKn ^ale heir, Yv'ililain saw no reason luc uia VOL. I. 1 ^1 ''J lUk III -1 1 '''■■ \'\i . ' ' ' 1 ■ 1 i 1 ; i . . . '■ i - \ '\ ■■■:.''■ A \ : 1 i i i \\\M\\ \ ^^ Id INTRODUCTION. J / in Mary's favour rather than his own. The conventional assembly adjusted this delicate point by deciding that the prince and princess of Orange should reign as joint sovereigns, to which WiUiara outwardly consented ; yet the household-books furnish abundant proofs that, as far as he durst, he deprived his queen of the dignity which the will of the people had con- ferred upon her. The warrants were for a considerable time issued in his name singly, and dated in the first or second years of his, instead of their majesties' reign. It is also observable, that he never allowed her to participate with himself in the ceremonial of opening or proroguing parhament, on which occa- sions he occupied the throne solus, and arrogated exclusively to himself the regal oflBce of sceptering or rejecting bills, which ought tc have been submitted to her at the same time. Mary, though naturally ambitious and fond of pageantry, endured these ungallant curtailments of her royal prerogatives and persona] dignity with a submission, which her foreign spouse could never have ventured to exact from her if she had succeeded to the Britannic empire on the demise of the crown. In that case, William of Orange would have been indebted to her favour for the empty title of king, and such ceremonial honours and dignity as it might have pleased her to confer on him. Circumstances were, however, widely different. William's Dutch troops had rudely expelled Mary's royal father from his palace, forced him to vacate his regal off ce by driving him from the seat of government, and causing him to flee for reftige to a foreign land. William remaining thus undisputed master of the metropolis and exchequer, con- sidered that Mary was indebted to him, not he to her, for a crown ; and although the sufirages of the people invested her with the dignity of queen-regnant, she was, in all thinsg, as subservient to his authority as if she had been merely a queen- consort. The conjugal apron-strings were, nevertheless, Wil- liam's strongest hold on the crown of England. Nothing but Mary's populai* and able government at home could have enabled him to overcome the difficulties of his position during the revoil oi Ireland and the insurrection in Scotland. The mild sway of Anne, her tenderness of the Uves of her subjects, her i ties to that n working clerg" loyal affection her memory i queen of Grea written, till Ti curtain of a r© of letters and those who maj the reigning fai INTRODUCTION. 19 subjects, her munificent charities to the poor, her royal boun- ties to that meritorious portion of the church, the indigent working clergy, caused her to be regarded, while living, with loyal affection by the great body of her subjects, and endeared her memory to succeeding generations. Anne is the last queen of Great Britain of whom a personal history can be written, till Time, the great mother of truth, shall raise the curtain of a recent but doubtftd past, and by the publication of letters and domestic state-papers now inaccessible, enable those who may undertake the biographies of the queens of the reigning family to perform their task with fidelity. 1 1 !■ I ' 11 > r 1 *i ,'i :l ca f» #■ m \ : > \ I i ! ! ' I ) ) -■: ■ ■ ^ t i 1 \ \ 1 i /. i 1 1 * i * 1 , ; j 1 ■ "i 1 i'i Ir: rl i, i gnE! ■' -iinU — Ktln.Mt ■ ,'!jfht In innrrv .•"•f«'iil courteliip ■ i-.k— Thtij "•iida exconir * — Beti-otli. A;i' to Milt: i.;,y:- Uobt'Vt — V ■''■■'lllsiu)! sfaiLj u '■■iVjR* of vicUi- •<*y^>rt of a tf # ftu iiuiov; 1?^ .»>ia simply '^^>:Amcr, hi his li '"'itil^^Hhrt bo rfg '- /;:-S.ijcons did ' ', but mn-y- aotcfi, tJiut ;«,tjri word r .^>- ;« word iiito ( * iUuJ'diffe .-ie { Yo'-tiiuiidj — ills' jitisstoimtt; ' -Unsuc- il ouurtsliip — Brihtrif Weiw, xh\: JOij^liirh env-jv— IViatiUIa i for him :4"<'rKuvvirttncc ul' WUliitju of KonnaiuW^ — Furiou.-^ t.vwliKit j^ Yilliam to "■ 'iSi.la — Tlit'ii tnarriiigi: — Uu;]t iipjiarel — VViJJiaJtiV early lift^-- v^illiam and ilda excomnmnkutwi — i>is|K'n.>«itioii — Matifek'i tmtc ll* j chitecture — ■ -Wii's sister nmrri.'cTlo Ti".tii^ — Birth -jf Mtttilda'H eldc:-' .on — Harold's — Betrotli'-d to Matilda't! tkughiw' — Wi'iituu's iiivasif i- of England— It to MiiliiiUi'M bvotUer— MritOda ap',Knntod regent of ^'trmandy — Her - i»obt''"t-— Hivppy aJTival of Mittil<A, the wife of W^iliwn tho Coiiqaeror, ^vfts the first 'ft of a king of En^'iarirf n-ho was caMesi rugitm,^ This 'i K,u innovatioTi m the audent .at^toms <4 (hbhcri>'\ for the ."^4 .»>i» simp]y styled the wife of tbt? liing * the lady his com- ^^te*on,'' aiid to them it was displeasing io hear th'j Nonnans "^ HMtr, iu his lifo of Alfred, whos*' cst'itcmixiiMty auc! I'rifiid ho was, o* i mus v« i'>T(. ho regarded sm a ^esv IsnyKK'tant Bi.thofi'.y, exprfts'ly str-ds the uVixDHs did not "sulibr tlio qnoon to .';it nctr the king, i.vn- ti< h-i called % hut mwviy tho king^ rtife;" Uwfc ia, (fut-f, or «'oni3Ji)jnioiQ- i ; ought aotfil, thtvt tbo.Saxou lii»;ttirjan« v.ririiig la T^atin^ r.^> lu kith iii^tances, 7«tjn word fei^huf, to sipnifv qncaji, being sishtuntwl :.f tntTt^fitvciup v bar- ,.,»;;« word iut« the Latin tt:xti but the uiefitiiiig is uvid.rnt. ' lUafdiffe «s ty^tmur: Ik the Saxon phv»i«'. Illataig-.?, or lady, vtM^xmi tt»« ' g^vsr. ,;,:, t!s*ad ;' cwx'ue, or il the tourneys and fStes were ended, the earl and countess of Flanders took leave of their daughter, and returned to their own country. William consoled Matilda for the loss of their society by taking her on a royal progress through Normandy, to show her the principal towns, and to make her acquainted with the manners and customs of the mighty people over whose coiut she was to preside. He was, of course, proud of displaying a consort of such sur- passing beauty and majestic grace to his subjects. Every- where she came she was received with demonstrations of dehght and admiration. It was more than half a century since there had been a duchess of Normandy ; and as bachelor sovereigns seldom conduce to the domestic happiness or pros- perity of a nation, all ranks of people were prepared to welcome Matilda with joy, and to anticipate great pohtical and social advantages from the auspicious aUiance their duke had formed. Nothing could be more perilous than the position of Wil- liam's affairs at the period of his marriage with Matilda of Flanders. He was menaced on every side by powerftd neigh- bours, who were eager to appropriate and parcel out the fertile fields of Normandy, to the enlai'gement of their respective borders ; and at the same time a formidable party was array- ing itself against him within his own dominions in favour of Guy of Burgundy, the eldest son of liis aimt . Jice. This prince was the nearest legitimate male descendant of duke Richard the Second of Normandy ; and as the direct line had failed with duke Robert, the late sovereign, he was, notwithstanding the operation of the SaUc law, considered by many to possess a better right to the dukedom than the son of duke Richard by Arlotta, the skinner's daughter of Falaise. The particulars of William's buth ai'e too v/ell known to require recapitula- tion ; but it is proper to notice that there are historians who maintain that Aiiotta was the wife of duke Robert, though not of rank or breeding fit to be acknoMdedged as his * William of Jumieges. Chronicle of Nonnandy. n^ f I f. 80 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. i". %■ V-i i; ;■■ : i^: duchess.' This we are disposed to regard as a mere paradox, since William, who would have been only too h , py to avail himself of the plea of even a contract or promise of marriage between his parents, in order to strengthen his defective title by a pre- tence of legitimacy, never made any such assertion. On the contrary, not only before his victorious sword had purchased for him a more honourable surname, but even afterwards, he submitted to the use of the one derived from his mother^s shame ; and in the charter of the lands which he bestowed on his son-in-law, Alan duke of Bretasnie, in Yorkshire, he sub- scribed himself ''William, sumamed Bastardus.'" It is a general opinion that Ai*lotta was married to Herlewin of Conteville duriiig the lifetime of duke Robert, and that this circumstance prevented any possibihty of William attempting to assert that he was the legitimate offspring of his royal sire.^ WiUiam was, from the very moment of his birth, regarded as a child of the most singular promise. The manful grasp with which his baby hand detained the rushes of which he had 'taken seizin'* the moment after his entrance into life, when, in consequence of the danger of his mother, he was pennitted to He unheeded on the floor of his chamber where he first saw the light,' gave occasion to the oracular gossip» in attendance on Arlotta to predict "that the child would become a mighty man, ready to acquire every thing within his reach ; and that which he acquired, he would with a strong hand steadfastly maintain against all challengers." — " When WiUiam was a year old, he was introduced into the presence * William of Malmesbury. Ingulphus. ' Leland. ' After the accession of Henry II. to the throne, a Saxon pedigree was inge- niously invented for Arlotta, which is too great a curiosity to be omitted. ■ " Edmund Ironside," says the Saxon genealogist, " had two sons, Edwin and Edward, and an oiily daughter, whose name does not appear in history because of her bad conduct, seeing that she formed a most imprudent alliance with tlio king's skinner. The king, in his anger, banished the skinner from Englaiid, together with his daughter. They both went to Normandy, where they lived on public charity, and had successively three daughters. Having one day come to Falaise to beg at duke Richard's door, the duke, struck with the beauty of tlie woman and her children, asked who she was ? ' I am an Englishwoman,* she said, • and of the royal blood.' The duke, on this answer, treated her with honour, took the skinner into his service, and had one of his daughters brought up in the palace. She was Arlotte, or Charlotte, the mother of the Conqueror." — Thierry. * The feudal term for taking possession. * William of Malmesbury. of his father, child he was Normandy, e and caused h When WiUiai own age, waj practised the those days, authority of a among them, judgments are ness and equit learn to enact 1 had, indeed, ei he was afterwa were strengthei princes in that receive. At tl explain Caesar's The beauty a regarded with child of illegiti to the successi appointment of other issue, befo the Holy Land, h6tel de Ville, a; William as his child of seven y( of the assemble and, after kissi sented him to reign, with this The peers of N ^ According to W plaa-d on mental cult ■M illiterate king was ■ MM'' 1 1 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 31 of his father, duke Robert, who seeing what a goodly and fair child he was, and how closely he resembled the royal hne of Normandy, embraced him, acknowledged him to be his son, and caused him to receive princely nurture in his own palace. When William was five years old, a battalion of boys, of his own age, was placed under his command, with whom he practised the military exercise according to the custora of those days. Over these infant foUowers William assimied the authority of a sovereign in miniature ; and if dissensions arose among them, they always referred to his decision, and his judgments are said to have been remarkable for their acute- ness and equity."' Thus early in life did the mighty Norman learn to enact the character of a leader and legislator. Natm'e had, indeed, eminently fitted him for the lofty station which he was afterwards destined to fill ; and his powerftd talents viere strengthened and improved by an education such as few princes in that rude, unlettered age were so fortunate as to receive. At the age of eight years he was able to read and explain Csesar^s Commentaries.'^ The beauty and early promise of this boy caused him to be regarded with peculiar interest by the Normans; but as a child of illegitiroate birth, William possessed no legal claim to the succession. His title was simply founded on the appointment of the duke, his father. That prince, having no other issue, before he set out on his mysterious pilgrimage for the Holy Land, called the peers of Normandy together, in the hotel de Ville, and required them to swear fealty to the yomig William as his successor. When the princely boy, then a child of seven years old, was brought in to receive the homage of the assembled nobles, duke Robert took him in his arms, and, after kissing and passionately embracing him, he pre- sented him to his valiant ' quens/ as their future sove- reign, with this remark, " He is little, but he will grow."* The peers of Normandy having consented to recognise Wil- ' Henderson's Life of the Conqueror. ' AccorcQng to Willvam of Malmesbury, the importance which the Conqueror plaanl on mental culture was great. Throughout life he was used to say, an illiterate king was a crov/ned ass." ' " II est petit, mais il croitera." — Wace. that ■'*, 5 vi 1^^ ;:■; "(■ i: sn ill vit I m J r I ■lllf 33 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. liam/ the duke appointed his vassal kinsman and friend^ Alan duke of Bretagne, seneschal of his dominions in liis absence. Then he carried his son to Paris, and deUvered him into the hands of the king of France, his suzerain, or paramoimt lord ; and having received his promise of protecting and cherishing the boy with a loving care, he made WiUiam perform the same homage to that monarch as if he were already the reigning duke of Normandy, by wliich he secured his sovereign's re- cognition of his son's title to the ducal crown. A 3r these arrangements, duke Robert departed on that expedition, from which he never again returned to his own dominions.'' At the comt of his sovereign, Henry I. of France, the uncle of his future spouse, Matilda of Flanders, WilUam completed his education, and learned the science of diplomacy, secure from all the factions and intrigues with which Normandy was convulsed. The states, true to the fealty they had sworn to the son of their deceased lord, sent ambassadors to Paris to claim their young duke.^ The king of France resigned him to the deputies, but soon after invaded his dominions. Kaoul de Gace and Roger de Beaumont stoutly maintained the * Chronicle of Nonnandy. Malmesbury. ' It was whispered by some, that dulie Kobert undertook hia pilgrimage to Jerusalem as an expiatory penance for the death of Ids elder brother and sovereign, duke Richard III., which he was suspected of having haiitened ; while others believed he was impelled from motives of piety alone to pay his vows at the holy grave, according to a new but prevailing spirit of misdirected (Jcvotion, which manifested it«elf among the princes and nobles of that age of superstition and romance. Wliether duke Robert ever reached the place of his destination is uncertain. The last authentic tidings respecting him that reached his capital were brought by Pii-ou, a returned pilgrim from the Holy Land, who reported that he met his lord, the duke of Normandy, on bis way to the holy city, bonio in a litter on the shoulders of four stout Saracens, being then too ill to proceed on Ids journey on foot. WTien the royal pilgrim recognised his vassal, he excliiinied, ivith great animation, " Tell my valiant peers that you have seen your sovereign ich his fate, and it appears that the Norman nobles long exjjected Ids return, — an expectation that was probably most favourable to the cause of his youthfiJ successor, whose title might otherwise have Ixjen more effectually disputed by the heirs of the sisters and aunts of duke Robert. 3 Chronicle of No.'maady, cause of their ^ Tliey were his assistance and of a sovereigr princeo are geui pleasures of the One by one, any portion of line of Norman stir up an insun one occasion, \^' victim to the p laid to surprise and was to pass : at the castle of V by the fidehty c conspirators arra speed to give tl means to make a the morning, he at the chamber-d "Levez, levez, se So close at aant confederates, that half-dressed, and William could effi then he must h encountered a gei horses, his own was afterwards tl having been on he generously for] hhn, and his man] The king of _ jagain, but WiUiaJ ras a legitimate d] Infective title to tl ' Chronicle of Normal VOL. I. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 83 cause of their young duke, both m the court and in the camp, i They were his tutors in the art of war, and through their jissistance and advice he was enabled to maintain the dignity i of a sovereign and military chief, at a period of life when ; princes are generally occupied in childish amusements or the i ploasm«s of the chase.' One by one, almost every Norman noble who could boast any portion of the blood of RoUo, the founder of the ducal line of Normandy, was incited by king Heniy of France to stir up an insurrection as a rival claimant of the crown. On one occasion, WiUiam would in all probabihty have fallen a victim to the plot which his cousin Guy of Burgimdy had laid to surprise him, when he was on a himting exciu'sion, and was to pass the night without any of his mihtary retinue at the castle of Valognes ; but from this peril ho was preserved by the fidehty of his fool, who, happening to overhear the conspirators arranging their plan, travelled all night at full speed to give the duke notice of his danger; and finding means to make an entrance into the castle at iour o'clock in the morning, he struck violently with the handle of his whip at the chamber-door of his sleeping sovereign, and shouted, " Levez, levez, seigneur !" till he succeeded in rousing liim. So close at aand, however, were Guy of Burgundy and his confederates, that it was only by moimting his swiftest steed, half-dressed, and riding with fiery speed for many hours, that WiUiam could effect his escape from his pursuers ; and even then he must have fallen into their hands, if he had not encountered a gentleman on the road with whom he changed horses, his own being thoroughly spent. Guy of Burgimdy was afterwards taken prisoner by the young duke; L."^ having been on affectionate terms with him in his childhood, he generously forgave him all the trouble he had occasioned [him, and his many attempts against his life.^ The king of France was preparing to invade Normandy [again, but WiUiam's fortunate marriage with Matilda, who pas a legitimate descendant of the royal line, strengthened his [defective title to the throne of Normandy, and gained for him ' Chroniclfl of Xnrmandv. MalmesbuTV. Waee. - — • - • - ^ ^ VOL. I. D 2 'n-\t/1 UK nfW/\-ntt\ W^fl/'P , 1 I i 1 ; i j ! ■ : i \ .: 4 / ■' ! ' 'i I 1 11 I , M'i !!*. II' ,s-- ■m m III ■• ji ilH I 4 34 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. I) a powerful ally in the person of his father-in-law, the earl of Flanders. The death of Henry averted the storm that still loured over Normandy ; and the young Phihp of France, his son and successor, having been left during liis minority under the guardianship of his aunt's husband, Baldwin of Flanders, Matilda's father, WilUam found himsolf entirely relieved from all present fears of hostility on the part of France.' Scarcely, hoM ever, was he preparing himself to enjoy the happiness of wedded life, when a fresh cause of annoyance arose. Mauger, the archbishop of Rouen, an illegitimate uncle of the young duke, who had taken great pains to prevent his marriage with Matilda of Flanders, iiiiding all the obstacles which he had raised against it were unavailing, proceeded to pronounce sentence of excommunication ugainst the newly wedded pair, under the plea of its being a marriage witlun the forbidden degrees of consanguinity.'' William indignantly appealed to the pope against this sentence, who, on the parties submitting to the usual fines, nullified the archbishop's eccle- siastical censures, and granted the dispensation for the marriage, on condition Ox" the young duke and duchess each building and endowing an abbey at Caen, and an hospital for the blind. Lanfranc, afterwards the celebrated archbishop of Canterbury, but at that time an obscure individual, to whom William had extended his protection and patronage, was entrusted with tliis negotiation, which he conducted with such ability as to secure to liimself the favour and confidence both of William and Matilda, by whom he was, in after years, advanced to the office of tutor to their royal offspring, and finally to the highest ecclesiastical rank and power. William and Matilda submitted to the conditions on which the dispensation for their marriage had been granted, by founding the sister abbeys of St. Stephen and the Holy Trinity. That of St. Stephen was built and endowed by William for a fraternity of monks, of which he made Lan- franc abbot. Matilda founded and endoAved that of the > St. Marthe. Wace. ^ Chronicle of Normandy. Matilda was the grand-daughter of Eleanor of| Normandy, William's amit. Holy Trinity, on which th( honestly obtaii after.' Willi attempt to sepi hy calling a co Lisieux, before crimes and mi chalices, and < luxury.' Mauf deposed from h been attributed him on account marriage; and t sought out an o( Tranquillity b a royal palace wi his own re8idenc( hall, or council-c] magnificent apart Matilda, inhei taste for architec tliese stately buil most splendid rel ficent patroness o to men of learn actively in all his the extension of people committed successful. Norn and impoverished blessings of repos( energetic sovereigi enlightened policy first pier that ev superintended the ' Montfaucon. »Hend MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 85 Holy Trinity, for iiuiis. It should appear that the ground on which these holy edifices were erected was not very honestly obtained, as we shall have occasion to show here- ufter.' William, highly exasperated at the archbishop's attempt to separate him from his bride, retaliated upon him by calling a convocation of all the bishops of Normandy, af; Lisieux, before whom he caused Manger to be accused of several crimes and misdemeanors, especially of selluig consecrated chalices, and other articles of chiu'ch-plate, to supply his luxury.' Manger, being convicted of these mal-practices, was deposed from his office. The disgrace of the lu-chbishop has been attributed to the resentment Matilda conceived against him on account of his impertinent attempt to invalidate her marriage; and that Wilham, being roused by her complaints, sought out an occasion to degrade him from his see. Tranc^uiUity being established, William proceeded to build a royal palace within the precincts of St. Stephen's abbey, for his own residence and that of his young duchess. The great hall, or council-chamber, of this palace was one of the most magnificent apartments at that time in Europe. Matilda, inheriting from her father, Baldwin of Lille, a taste for architecture, took great delight in the progress of these stately buildings ; and her foundations are among the most splendid rehes of Norman grandeur. She was a muni- ficent patroness of the arts, and aflbrded great encouragement to men of learning, eo-operating with her husband most actively in all his paternal plans for the advancement of trade, the extension of commerce, and the general happiness of the people committed to their charge. In tliis they were most successful. Normandy, so long torn with contending factions, and impoverished with foreign warfare, began to taste the blessings of repose; and, under the wise government of her energetic sovereign, soon experienced the good effects of his enlightened poHcy. At his own expense, WdUam buUt the first pier that ever was constructed, at Cherbourg."' He superintended the buUding and organization of fleets, traced ' Montfkucon. Malmesbury. ' William of Malmesbury. ' Henderson's Life of William the Conqueror. D 2 m ■\ >, i ! 1 J I in ; f 1, I In: '.I 86 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 1:;.. :. out commodious harbourH for his ships^ and in a comparatively short time rendered Normandy a very considerable maritime power, and finally the mistress of the Chaimel. The domestic happiness which William enjoyed with his beautiftd duchess appears to have been very great. All his- torians havo agreed that they were a most attai d pair, and that, whatever might have been the previous state of Matilda's affections^ they were unalterably and faithfully fixed upon liim from the hour she became lus wife; and with reason, for William was the most devoted of husbands, and always allowed her to take the ascendant in the matrimonial scale. The confidence he reposed in her was unbomided, and very shortly after their marriage he intrusted the reins of govern- ment to her care, when he crossed over to England to pay a visit to his friend and kinsman, Edward the Confessor. By his marriage with Matilda, William had added a nearer tie of relationship to the English sovereign; and he was, perhaps, willing to remind the childless monarch of that cirrumstance, and to recall to his memory the hospitality he had received, both at the Flemish and the Norman courts, during the period of his adversity.' Edward " received him very honour- ably, and presented him with hawks and hounds, and many other fair and goodly gifts," says Wace, " as tokens of his love." Duke William paid this visit during the exile of Grodwin and his sons; it is probable that he availed himself of their absence to obtain from Edward the promise of being adopted as his successor to the EngUsh throne, and also to commence a series of political intrigues connected with that mighty project, which, fourteen years afterwards, he carried into effect. In pursuing the broad stream of history, how few writers take the trouble of tracing the under-currents by which tiie tide of events is influenced ! The marriage of Tostig, the son of Godwin, with Judith of Flanders, the sister of Matilda, wife of William of Normandy, was one great cause of the treacherous and unnatural conduct, on his part, which decided the fate of Harold, and transferred the crown of England to | ' Higden, Folycbronioon. the Norman England, Oo( the carl of Fi received friei treated by tin marks of frien sideration of t Nine month whom William the name of a would ensure the royal pair were at that pc derly united cc both had been very unusual ii tastes and pm delightful to eac public acts thai producing the hi The birth of Ro of Richard, Will Adelaide, and G nationaJ prosperi selves in superi] numerous family] contemporary cl No very rems court, till the ai having undertake boat, was driven I the territories o^ intention of extc immured in the mandy, howeverJ earl of Ponthiei ' Wace. Ingulpl MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 87 the Norman line. During the period of their exile from England, Godwin and his family sought refuge; at the court of the carl of Flanders, Tostig's father-in-law, from whom they received friendly and hospitable entertainment, and were treated by the duke and duchess of Normandy with all the marks of friendship that might reasonably be expected, in con- sideration of the family connexion to which we have alluded.' Nine months after her marriage, Matilda gave birth to a son, whom William named Robert, after his father, thinking that the name of a prince whose memory was dear to Normandy, would ensure the popularity of his heir.'' The happiness of the royal pair was greatly increased by Lhis event. They were at that period reckoned the handsomest and most ten- derly united couple in Europe. The fine natural talents of both had been improved by a degree of mental cultivation very unusual in that age ; there was a similarity in their tastes and pursuits which rendered their companionship dehghtful to each other in private hours, and gave to all then- public acts that graceful unanimity which could not fail of producing the happiest effects on the minds of their subjects. The birth of Robert was followed in quick succession by that of Richard, William-Rufus, Cecilia, Agatha, Constance, Adela, Adelaide, and Gimdred. During several years of peace and national prosperity, Matilda and her husband employed them- selves in superintending the education of their lovely and numerous family, several of whom, according to the report of coutemporary chronicles, were children of great promise.^ No very remarkable event occurs in the records of Matilda's comi;, till the arrival of Harold in the year 1065. Harold, having undertaken a voyage to Normandy in an open fishing- boat, was driven by stress of weather into the river Maye, in the territories of the earl of Ponthieu, by whom, with the intention of extorting a large ransom, he was seized, and immured in the dungeons of Beaurain. The duke of Nor- mandy, however, demanded the illustrious captive, and the earl of Ponthieu, understanding that Harold's brother was ' Wace. Ingulphus. Eadmer. ' Malmesbury. Wace. ' Malmciibuty. Ordericus Vitalis. I' it-' IS it I ' ! 1 ' I 1 1 1 M ' ( !l I t ! I ! -r.ii M[5 38 MATn.DA OF FLANDERS. s )■. husband to the duchess of Normandy's sister, thought it most prudent to resign his prey to the family connexion by whom it was claimed. Harold was treated with apparent fiiendship by William and Matilda. They even offered to bestow one of their daughters upon him in marriage, — a young lady whose age did not exceed seven years ; and to her Harold permitted himself to be affianctJ, though without any inten- tion of keeping his plight. WiUiam then confided to his reluctant guest the tale of his own adoption by Edward the Confessor, for his successor, and proceeded to extort from him a solenm oath to render him all the assistance in his power, in furtherance of his designs on the crown of England.' Harold, on his return to England, came to an open rupture with his brother Tostig. Probably he had, during his late visit to Normandy, discovered how entirely the latter was in the interest of his Flemish wife's connexions. Tostig then fled, with his wife and children, to the court of his father-in-law, the earl of Flanders, and devoted himself entirely to the cause of William of Normandy. At this perilous crisis, when so dark a storm was slowly but surely gathering over England, a wofid deterioration had taken place in the national character of the people, especially among the higher classes, who had given way to every species of luxury and licentious foUy. WiUiam of Malmesbury draws the following quaint picture of their manners and proceedings at this period. " Enghshmen," says he, " had then trans- formed themselves into the strange manners of the French, not only in their speech and behaviour, but in their deeds and characters. Their fashion in dress was to go fantastically appointed, with garments shortened to the knee. Their heads shorn, and their beards shaven all but the upper hp, on which they wore long moustaches. Their arms they loaded with massive bracelets of gold, canying withal pictured marks upon their skins, pounced in with divers colours '" by which it is evident thai the Anglo-Saxons had adopted the barbarous practice of tattooing their persons, hke the rude aborigines of the island eleven centuries previous. " They were," continues ' Wacfc Maltnesbi'jy. Thierry. our author, excess; whil and trivial breviaries." of their own folly, which i tation in the " The Nor proudly appar, a race inured fierce in rushi ready to use g live in large ] superiors; the^ but not unfre were the generj rendered Vetera example, stimu] self-control. ^ possessing Tvithi that might ensi eveiy other nati little short of m; When the ii ^th the news reached the cour with indignation tied and untied times, in the fir, then gave vent , Harold's broken ' England, in defi to support his cI. that had been o hrho, regardless I just before king the Enghsh nobi la MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 39 our author, " accustomed to eat to repletion, and to drink to excess ; while the clergy wholly addicted themselves to light and trivial hterature, and could scarcely read their own breviaries." In a word, they had, according to the witness of tlieir own chronicles, arrived at that pass of sensuality and folly, which is generally supposed to provoke a national visi- tation in the shape of pestilence or the sword. " The Normans of that period," says Malmesbury, " were proudly apparelled, dehcate in their food, but not gluttonous ; a race inm'ed to war, which they could scarcely hve without ; fierce in rushing upon the foe, and, when unequal in force^ ready to use stratagem or bribery to gain their ends. They live in large houses with economy; they wish to rival their superiors ; they envy their equals, and plimder their inferiors, but not unfrequently intermarry with their vassals." Such were the general characteristics of the men whom William had rendered veterans in the art of war, and, both by precept and example, stimulated to habits of frugality, temperance, and self-conia'ol. A mighty sovereign and a mighty people, possessing within themselves the elements of every requisite that might ensure the success of an undertaking, which, by every other nation in Europe, must have been considered as little short of madness. When the intelligence of Idng Edward's death, coupled with the news of Harold's assumption of the regal dignity, reached the court of Normandy, William was struck speechless with indignation and surprise, and is said to have unconsciously tied and untied the rich cordon that fastened his cloak several times, in the first tumults of his agitation and anger.' He then gave vent to his wrath, in fierce animadversions on Harold's broken faith in causing himself to be crowned king of England, in defiance of the solemn oath he had sworn to him to support his claims. WilHam also complained of the affront ^ that had been offered to his daughter by the faithless Saxon, j who, regardless of his contract to the little Norman princess, just before king Edward's death strengthened his interest with I the English nobles by marrying Edith or Algitha, sister to the ' Wace. I / 1 s t . 1 1 t j \ i. -, 1 } 1 1 i 1 ! i It 1 J 1;|E ti ■MV i ! 11 i • 1 M: , ; ' ' M - '' t ■ -t 11 1 ll mi ■ j' , ut '! i i i , \\ ■ I ^ 40 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ' \i ■ Hi powerful earls Morcar and Edwin, and widow to Griflfith, prince of Wales. This circumstance is mentioned with great bitterness in all WiUiam's proclamations and reproachful mes- sages to Harold, and appears to have been considered by him to the full as great a viUany as the assumpticoi of the crown of England. When William first made known to his Norman peers his positive intention of asserting, by force of arms, his claims to the crown of England, on the plea of Edward the Confessor's verbal adoption of himself as successor to that realm, there were stormy debates among them on the subject. They were then assembled in the hall of Lillebon, where they remained long in council, but chiefly employed in complaining to one another of the warlike temper of their lord. There were, however, great differences of opinion among them, and they separated themselves into several distinct groups, because many chose to speak at once, and no one could obtain the attention of the whole assembly, but harangued as many hearers as could be prevailed on to listen to liim. The majority were opposed to the idea of the expedition to England ; they said, " they had already been grievously taxed to support the duke's foreign wars," and that " they were not only poor, but in debt ;" while others were no less vehement in advocating their sovereign's project, and spake " of the propriety' of contri- buting ships and men, and crossing the sea with him." Some said " they would," others, " that they would not ;" and at last tlie contention among them became so fierce, that Fitz- Osbom, of Breteml, siunamed the Proud Spirit, stood forth and harangued the malcontent portion of the assembly in these words : — " Why should you go on wrangling with your natural lord, who eks to gain honour? You owe him service for your fiefs, and you ought to render it with all readiness. Instead of waiting for him to entreat you, you ought to hasten to him and offer your assistance, that he: may not hereafter complain that his design has failed through | your delays." — " Sir," replied they, " we fear the sea, and I we are not bound to serve beyond it. But do you speak to the duke for us. for we do not seem to know oiu* own Wace. Jj MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 41 minds, and we think you will decide better for us than we can do for oiu-selves,"* Fitz-Osbom, thus empowered to act as their deputy, went to the duke at their head, and in their names made him the most unconditional proffers of their assistance and co-operation. *• Behold," said Fitz-Osbom, " the loving loyalty of your lieges, my lord, and their zeal for your service. They will pass with you over sea, and double their accustomed service. - He who is bound to furnish twenty knights, will bring forty; he who should serve you with thirty, will now sei*ve you with sixty ; and he who owes one hundred, will cheerfully pay two hundred.^ For myself, I will, in good love to my sovereign in his need, contribute sixty well-appointed ships charged with fighting men." Here the dissentient barons interrupted him with a clamour of disapprobation, exclaiming, " That he might give as much as he pleased himself, but they had never empowered him to promise such unheard-of aids for them ;"* and they would submit to no oUch exactions from their sovereign, since if they once performed double service, it would henceforth be demanded of them as a right. " In short," continues the Kvely chronicler, " they raised such an uproar, that no one could hear another speak, — no one could either Hsten to reason, or render it for himself. Then the duke, being greatly perplexed with the noise, with- drew, and sending for the barons one by one, exerted aU his powers of persuasion to induce them to accede to his wishes, / promising ' to reward them richly with Saxon spoils for the assistance he now required at their hands ; and if they felt disposed to make good Fitz-Osbom's offer of double service at that time, he should receive it as a proof of their loyal affection, and never think of demanding it as a right on any future occasion.* " The nobles, on this concihatory address, were pacified ; and feeling that it was a much easier thing to maintain their opposition to their sovereign's wishes in the council than in the presence-chamber, began to assume a different tone, and even expressed their willingness to oblige him as far as it lay in their power. * Wace. * Waco's Chronicle of Normandy. •'' Ibid. I 1 ?:- i ■•* ! t 1 1 J .1 1 t $ . W I I \i 4 i 4St MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ' t; £|: If I: William next invited his neighbours, the Bretons, the Angevins, and men of Boulogne, to join his banners, bribing them with promises of good pay, and a share in the spoils ol tnerrie England. He even proposed to take the king of France into the aUiance, offering, if he would assist him with the quota of money, men, and ships which he required, to own him for the suzerain or paramount lord of England, as well as Normandy, and to render him a liegeman's homage for that island as well as for hie continental dominions. Philip treated the idea of William's annexing England to Normandy as an extravagant chimera,' and asked him, " Who would take care of his duchy while he was running after a kingdom ?" To this sarcastic query, WiUiam replied, " That is a care that shall not need to trouble our neighbours ; by the grace of God we are blessed with a prudent wife and loving subjects, who will keep our border securely during our absence.'" Wilham entreated the young count Baldwin of Flanders, the brother of his duchess, to accompany him as a friendly ally ; but the wily Fleming, with whom the family connexion seems to have had but httle weight, rephed by asking WiUiam " What share of England he intended to bestow on him by way of recompence?"* The duke, surprised at this demand, told his brother-in-law, " That he could not satisfy him on that point till he had consulted with his barons on the subject;" but instead of naming the matter to them, he took a piece of fair parchment, and having folded it in the form of a letter, Y'i superscribed it to count Baldwin of Flanders, sealed it with the ducal seal, and wrote the following distich on the label that smrounded the scroll : — vi* *'■ B^u frere, en Angleterre vous auvez Ce qui dedans escript vous trouverezj"* which is to say, " Brother-in-law, I give you such a share tf England as you shall find within this letter." He sent the letter to the young count by a shrewd-witted page, who was much in his confidence. When Baldwin had read this promising endorsement, he broke the seal, full of aady. ' Ibid= * Wacc. * Henderson. Wace. were among h MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 43 expectation; but finding the parchment blank, he showed it to the bearer, and asked what was the duke'H meaning? " Nought is written here," repHed the messenger, " and nought shalt thou receive ; therefore look for nothing. The honour that the duke seeks wiU be for the advantage of your sister and her children, and their greatness will be the advancement of yourself, and the benefit will be felt by your country ; but if you refuse your aid, then, with the blessing of God, my lord will conquer England without your help/" But though William ventui'ed, by means of this sarcastic device, to reprove the selfish feelings manifested by hia brother-in-law, he was fain to subscribe to the only terms on which the aid of Matilda's father could be obtained ; which was, by securing to him and his successors a perpetual pen- sion of 300 marks of silver annually, in the event of his succeeding in estabhshing himself as king of England.^ According to the Flemish historians, this pension was actually paid dming the life of Baldwin V. and his son Baldwin VI., but afterwards discontinued. It is certain that Matilda's family connexions rendered the most important assistance to WiUiam in the conquest of England, and her countrymen were among his bravest auxiharies.' The earl of Flanders was, in fact, the first person to commence hostilities against Harold, by furnishing the traitor Tostig with ships and a military force to make a descent on England. Tostig executed his mission more like a pirate-brigand than an accredited leader. The brave earls Morcar and Edwin drove him into Scotland, whence he passed into Norway, where he succeeded in persuading king Harfager to invade England at one point, simultaneously with Wdham of Noniiiandy's attack in another quarter of the island.* The minds of the people of England in general were, at * Wace. ^ Wil. Gemetecensis, p. 665, and Daniel's Histoire de France, vol. iii. p. 9i>. Ikldwin earl of Flanders furnished Tostig with sixty ships. — Malmesbury.- - Saxon Annals. ^ Tradition makes the famous Eobin Hood a descendant of Matilda's nephew, Gilbert de Gant, who attended the Conqueror to Engltuvd. — Hist, of Sleaford by Dr. Yerborough. * Brompton. Saxon Annals. f 4 M! ! ! 'ill t ihl ! t I ! 1 ! i ! 1- i i > ,n III; \ 1 H tl A \sr * (" a I ;' a- Is 44 ^fATILDA OF FLANDERS. ^ / . I this momentous crisis, labouring under a superstiitious depres- sion, occasicu' '? by the appearance of the splendid three-tailed comet, which became visible in their horizon at the com- mencement of the memorable year 1066, a few days before the death of king Edward. Th*?. astrologers who foretold t\u. approach of this comet had tho ^^ht proper to annovmce Jhut it was ominous of a grea^^ national calamity in an oract-Iar Latin distich, of which the follow'ing rude couplet i « a lit "Jil translation : — ^ " Id the ye'Jir one tliousand and sixty-six, Comets to England's Hons an 'nid shall fix. ' ' "About this time," says Malinesbury, "a comet or star, deI?.otiiI.i^ ;is they say, a ch^mge in kin^^doms, apjjjaryd Dailixig its extended and fiery trail) along tbe sky ; wherefore a cer- tain monk of our j5-..:tnasteij named J^llmer, bowing down with terror v/hen the ))rif5;ut , f Jir fin^t became visible to his eye, prophetieally cxclaimei', ' Ihtsu art come ! a matter of great lamentation to many a mothcx' art thou come ! I have seen thee Jong b:fure ; but now 1 behold thee in thy terrors, tlireatening destruction to this coimtry.'" Wace, whom we may almost j'egard in the light of a contemporary chronicler, in still quainter langufige describes the appearance of this corriet, and the impression it made on the unphilosopliical stajr-f;(azers of the eleventh century. " This yeai* a great stai appeared in the heavens, sliining for fourteen days, with three long rays streaming towards the south. Such a star aa is wont to be seen when n kingdom is about to change 'ts ruler. I have seen men who saw it, — men who were of full age at the time of its appearance, and who lived many years afterwards." The descriptions which I have just quoted from the pen of the Norman poet and the monastic chronicler, fall far short iif the marvellousnesa of Matilda's delineation of this comet io the Bayeux tupestry, where the royal needle has represented it of dimensions that might well have justified the r . <.rra of the terror-stricken group of Saxon princes, priests, 8.. aclies, who appear to be ru^^Tig out of their pigmy dwel ; ., and * Henderson. /I noses, it wou ^irter planets j'iiit pi\;porti( allowance, he femin:i(ii'. rm aU|jpo,H« ;. J ha of the conqife tion of Willia: dnch'^ss t;A ma skiO and ingei I'ocording his j uut, ou the ev rally conclude iiiportantly oc( fabrication of t fears and anxi but she had, i Norman ladies as the duke h; accompany him concerned in it. Previously t( assembled at th( Matilda with th he and his comj prayers, and the expedition." J and most experii of Normandy.^ abihty, and wis( William recomn of domestic poli the regency the bad just compl[ mihtary chief of I Bayeux tap^-rhy. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 45 pointing to it with unequivocal signs of horror ; for, indepen- dently of the fact that it looks near enough to singe all their noses, it would inevitably have whisked the world and all its sjipter planets out of their orbits, if it had been of a hundredth j.5i ;t pi v»portionable to the magnitude there portrayed.' Some aUowfiiin;, however, ought to be made for the exaggeration of feminsr,;' rminiscences of an object, which we can scarcely :,uppo!re I J have been transfered to the embroidered chronicle of the conqiliBst of England till after the triumphant termina- tion of William of Normandy's enterprise aftbrded his queen- (lnch*^sg L«^ magnificent a subject for the employment of the skiO and ingenuity of herself and the ladies of her court, in recording his achievements on canvas by dint of needlework, l)ut, CD the eve of this adventurous expedition, we may natu- rally conclude that Matilda's time and thoughts were more inportantly occupied than in the labours of the loom, or the fabrication of worsted pictures ; when, in addition to all her fears and anxieties in parting with her lord, we doubt not but she had, at least, as much trouble in reconciling the Norman ladies to the absence of their husbands and lovers,' as the duke had to prevail on these his valiant quens to accompany him on an expedition so fdU of peril to all parties concerned in it. Previously to his departure to join his ships and forces assembled at the port of St. Vallery, William solemnly invested Matilda with the regency of Normandj^, and entreated, "that he and his companions in arms might have the benefit of her prayers, and the prayers of her ladies, for the success of their expedition." He appointed for her council some of the wisest and most experienced men among the prelates and elder nobles of Normandy.' The most celebrated of these, for oourage, ability, and wisdom, was Roger de Beaumont, and by him William recommended the duchess tc l^e advised in all matters of domestic poHcy. H>. also assodfited with the duchess in the regency their clf-st son, Robei: ; and this youth, who had just completemiiially the military chief of Normandy during the absence of his sire. ' Bayeux tap-try. ^ Wace. * William of Poitou. Wace. Malmesbiiry. &: n ».;.■ ! il! i' ! illH! 1 i ir '■■ ] i ' Ihl il \l\ll il 1 « It 1 : i- * t i';.i ; iivj*"s%;< 46 lkL\TILDA OF FLANDERS. The invasion of England was by no means a popular measure with any class of William's subjects ; and during the time that his armament remained wind-bound at St. Vallery, the common soldiers began to murmur in their tents. " The man must be mad/' they said, " to persist in going to subjugate a foreign country, since God, who withheld the wind, opposed him ; that his father, who was sumamed Robert le Diable, purposed something of the kind, and was in like manner frustrated ; and that it was the fate of that family to asphe to things beyond them, and to find God their adversary."' Wlien the duke heard of these disheartening reports, he called a council of his chiefs, at which it was agreed that the body of St. Vallery shoiild be brought forth, to receive the offerings and vows of those who should feel disposed to implore his intercession f)r a favourable wind.^ Thus artfully did he, instead of interposing the authority of a sovereign and a military leader to punish the language of sedition and mutiny among his troops, oppose superstition to superstition, to amuse the short-sighted instruments of his ambition. The bones of tlie patron samt of the port were accordingly brought forth, with great solemnity, and exposed in their shrine on the gi'een turf , beneath the canopy of heaven, for the double purpose of receiving the prayers of the pious and the contributions of the charitable.' The Norman chroniclers affirm that the shrine was half buried in the heaps of gold, silver, and precious things which were showered upon it by the crowds of votanes vho came to pay their respects to the saints. Thus were the malcontents amused till the wind changed. In the mean time William was agreeably surprised by tlie arrival of his duchess at the port in a splendid vessel of wai; called the Mora,* which she had caused to be built imknown to him, and adorned in the most royal style of magnificence, for his acceptance. The effigy of their youngest son (William), formed of gilded bronze, some Avriters say of gold, was placed at | the prow of this vessel, with his face turned towards England, I holding a trumpet to his lips with one hand, and bearing in the other a bow, with the arrow aimed at England. It seemed | Mttlmesbiiry. Wace. • lUlU. 3 n,;/i * Wa(!e, as if the wind offer this grati for scarcely ha the admiring sprang u^, '< ai arising, summo] first launching in the Mora, w] flag,' and, as so head, as a beac the royal leader ing dawned the single sail of her in number. Som ordered the mast out, and bring hi The reply wa« again," said the c " That he saw fc ships."—" Look ( exclaimed, " I see bearing gallantly Rough weathe] raarkable that, oi >vere lost. In or taken upon himse entirely successful the duke withouf omens nor encour? catastrophe of th( proper to join hin "Little could he I liot foresee his ow] On the 28th of the port of Pevens( of the Norman co MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 47 as if the wind had only delayed in order to enable Matilda to offer this gratifying and auspicious gift to her departing lord ; for scarcely had the acclamations with which it was greeted by the admiring host died away, when the long-desired breeze sprang U]., " and a joyful clamour," says Malmesbury, " then arising, summoned every one to the ships," The duke himself, first launching from the continent into the deep, led the way in the Mora, which by day was distinguished by a blood-red flag,' and, as soon as it was dark, carried a light at the mast- head, as a beacon to guide the other ships. The first night, the royal leader so far outsailed his followers, that wliMi morn- ing dawned the Mora was in the mid-seas alone, without a single sail of her convoy in sight, though these were a thousand in number. Somewhat disturbed at this circumstance, William ordered the master of the Mora to go to the topmast and look out, and bring him word what he had seen. The reply was, " Nothing but sea and sky." — " Go up again," said the duke, " and look out." The man cried out, " That he saw four specks in the distance, like the sails of ships." — " Look once again," cried William: then the master exclaimed, " I see a forest of tall masts and a press of sails bearing gallantly towards us."' Rough weather occurred during the voyage, but it is re- markable that, out of so numerous a fleet, only two vessels were lost. In one of these was a noted astrologer, who had taken upon himself to predict that the expedition would be entirely successful, for that Harold would resign England to the duke without a battle. William neither believed in omens nor encouraged fortune-telling, and when he heard the catastrophe of the unfortunate soothsayer who had thought proper to join himself to the armament, shrewdly observed, " Little could he have known of the fate of others, who could not foresee his own."' On the 28th of September, 1066, the Norman fleet made the port of Pevensey, on the coast of Sussex. Wace's chronicle of the Norman conquest > fi'-'ds a graphic picture of the dis- Th't^r ■'« Anglo- Norma ' Tliierr 8 Anglo-Normans. wace Henderson. ''-i-'i !' M ^F 1 ■ !, 1 -^ ! 1 • i : ^■. 48 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. \i I If il \ 1 1 I*: ' embarkation of tlie duke and his ai-raament. The knights and archers landed first.' Alter the soldiers, came the car- penters, armourers, and masons, with their tools in their hands, planes, saws, axes, an'' other implements slung to their sides. Last of all uiiic tlr* .ike, who, stumbling tuj he leaped to shore, meabiuTrl ]us majeistic height upon the beach. Forthwith nil raised a cry of distress. " An evil sign is here !" exclaimed the superstitious Normans; but the duke, who in recovering himself had filled his hands with sand, cried out in a loud r of Matilda had deceitfully informed him. But the intelligence of the arrival of these miwelcome guests was too soon con- veyed to him by a knight from tiic neighbourhood of Pevensey, who had heard the outcry of the peasants on the coast of Sussex when they saw the great fleet arrive; and being aware of the projt t of the Norman duke, hatl posted himself behiiu] a hill, where, unseen himself, he had watched the disembju-ka- tion of this mighty host and their proceedings on the shore till they had built up and entrenched their wooden fortress, which, being done with such inconceivable rapidity, appeared to him hke the work of enchantment. Sorely trouljled at what he had seen, the knight girded on his sword, and taking lance in hand, mounted his fleetest steed, and tarried not by the way, either for rest or refreshment, till he had found Harold, to whom he commimicatcd his alarming tidings in these words : " The Normans have come. They have landed at Hastings, and built up a fort, wliich they have enclosed with a foss and palisades; and they will rend the laud from thee and thine, unless thou defend it well.'" In the forlorn hope of ridding himself of his formidable invader, Harold offered to purchase the departure of the Nor- man duke, teUing him " that if sUver or gold were his object, he, who had enriched himself with the spoils of the defeated king of Norway, would give hiw enough to satisfy both himself and his followers." — " Thanks for Harold's fair words," replied William ; " but I did not bring so many eau8 into this comitry to change them for his esterlins.^ My purpose in coming is to claim this realm, which is mine according to the gift of king Edward, which was confirmed by Harold's oath."— ' Speed. ' Wace. ' Ibid. A play on words, meaning crowns and shillings: ecu meaning a sliidJ,! as well aB the coin called a crown. 'Nay, but ; senger, by w in not so pr( desire. Har from him, nt (icpjirture, wli silver nnd gol ofti'r, know tli next, if you h The duke ac preceding that his gonfanon oi Tlie Normans a during the seast l)ut employed Kn^lish, accordi kept up their spi !!|- turned into a kingdom, — yea, a king shall I be, who have hitherto been but a duke."' Then the duke called for the good steed which had been presented to him as a token of friendship by the king of Spain. Matilda has done justice to this noble chai'ger in her Bayeux tapestry. It is represented as caparisoned for the battle, and led by Gualtier Giffart, the duke's squire. There is in the same group the figure of a knight aimed cap-k-pie, in the close fitting ring-armour and nasal conical helmet worn by the Norman chivalry of that era, with a goiifanon attached to his lance something after the fashion of the streamer whicli forms part of the paraphernalia of the modem lancer, with this difference only, that the gonfanon of the ancient knight was adorned with his c''^vice or armorial bearing, and served the purpose of a banner or general rallying point for his followers. The knightly figure in the Bayeux tapestry which I have just described, is generally beheved to have been designed for the veritable effigies of the redoubtable conqueror of this realm, or at any rate as correct a resemblance of him as his loving spouse Matilda could produce in cross-stitch. He is dehneate'^ in the act of extending his hand to greet his favourite steed. "The duke," says Wace, "took the reins, put foot in " "irrup, and moimted ; and the good horse pawed, pranced, reared himself up, and curvetted." The viscount of Toazay, who stood by, thus expressed to those around him his admira- tion of the duke's fine appearance and noble horsemimship:^ " Never," said he, " have I seen a man so fairly armed, nor one who rode so gallantly, and became his hauberk so well, or bore his lance so graceftdly. There is no other such knight under heaven ! A fair count he is, and a fair king he wll be. Let him fight, and he will overcome ; and shame be to | him who shall fail him !'" The Normans were drawn up in three bodies Montgoraerv and Fitz-Osborn led the first, Geoffrey Martel led the second, and the duke himself headed the third, which was composed of the flower of Nonnandy, and kept in reserve till the pioperj moment for its effective advance should be ascertained bv its! * Wace. Ibid. 3 Wace. Chronicle of the Dukes ^f Noi'maiuly. skilful and pu Normandy, re native land, that day three of his own bio in rallying a s heights, with 1 that vantage g the Saxons' re the people of Harold was sla the left eye int The victorioi of the dead, wl had dyed the the vale of Sq William the liv( Malmesbury, an the loss of the the duchess-reg( tidings of the vie she was engaged ' Malmesbury. J Rapin. Chron. de B ^ Saxon Annals. S ' The following da of their dead; and V perform the like cLari Search was made for stripped and gashed tl between the mortal r Harold, had been her there was one whose tJcccive; this was a Sa the Swan-necied. Sh( rendered her only too corpse wa.s reeogjiiaed. price of its weight in i nwther, either throng conciliating the kindrc A'ho boasted of hanng ilie mother of Harold the simple but express "altbam. Mahnesbur MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 53 skilful and puissant leader. TaiUefer, the warrior minstrel of Normandy, rode gallantly at the head of the chivalry of his native land, singing the war-song of RoUo/ William had that day three horses killed imder him, without losing a drop of his own blood; finding, however, that Harold had succeeded in rallying a strong body of men around him on one of the heights, with the evident intention of keeping possession of that vantage groimd till the approaching night should favour the Saxons* retreat, he made his last desperate charge upon the people of the land. In this attack it is supposed that Harold was slain by a random arrow, which was shot through the left eye into his brain. The victorious duke pitched his tent that night in the field of the dead, which, in memory of the dreadful slaughter that had dyed the earth to crimson, was ever after called by him the vale of Sanguelac.^ This fiercely contested battle cost Wilham the lives of six thousand of his bravest followers; but Malmesbury, and other accredited historians of that time, rate the loss of the Saxons at threescore thousand men.^ When the duchess-regent of Normandy, Matilda, received the joyful tidings of the victory which her lord hjid obtained at Hastings, she was engaged in her devotions in the chapel of the Bene- ' Malmesbury. Maitliew of Westminster. Hem:'y of Hmitingdon. Speed. RajMn, Chron. de Bello Wil. Gemot. '■^ Saxon Annals. Speed. Ordericus soys it was called so long before this battle. ' The following day was devoted by the Norman conquerors to the interment of their dead; and William gave leave and licence to the Saxon peasants to perform the like cuaritable office to the remains of their unfortunate country nun. Search was made for tlie body of Harold, but at first in vain. The spoilers had stripped and gashed the victims of the fight, so that it was difficult to distinguish between the mortal remains of the leader and the serf. Qithii, the mother of Harold, had. been hei-self unable to identify the body of her beloved son; but there was one whose fond eye no change in the object of her affection could deceive; this was a Saxon lady of great beauty, Edith, surnamed Swans- Hals, or the Swan-necked. She had formerly been on those terms with Harold wliich had rendered her only too familiar with his personal characteristics, and by her his corpse wa.s recoguiaed. Githa, it is said, offered to purchase it of William at the price of its weight in gold; but he yielded it without a ransom to the afflicted mother, either through a generous impulse of compassion, or with a view of conciliating the kindred of the deceased. He also cashiered a Norman soldier, vho boasted of ha\-ing gashed vho leg of the royal Saxon after he had fallen. The mother of Harold buried her son in Waltham-abbey, placing over his tomb the simple but expressive sentence, haboU) infehx. — Thierry, Chronicle of Waltham. Malmesbury. ■ f '^1 i; ! i| t ; : f 1 i ii' ! I ■i # il r 54 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. m dictin'i priory of N6tre Dame, in the fields near the suburbs of St. Sever; and after retmaiing her thanksgivings to the God of battles for the success of her consort's arms, she ordered that the priory should henceforth be called, in me- mory of that circumstance, Ndtre Dame de Bonnes Nouvelles. And by that name it is distinguished to this day.' The coronation of the mighty forefather of our present line of sovereigns took place at Westminster, on Monday the 25th of December, being Christmas-day, called by our Saxon ancestors. Midwinter-day, Splendid prepai-ations were made in the sister cities of London and "Westminster for the celebration of the twofold festival of the Nativity of our Lord and the inaugurj^. tion of the new sovereign. On the afternoon of Christmas- eve, William of Normandy entered the city on hcrseback with his victorious foDowers. He took up his lodgings that night at the palace in Blackfriars, where Bridewell now stands. Early in the mommg he went by water to London-bridge, where he landed and proceeded to a house near London- stone ; after reposing awhile, he set forth with a stately csival- cade gallantly mounted, and rode to Westminster amidst the shouts of a prodigious multitude, vho were reconciled by the excitement of the pageant to the idea of receiving for their sovereign a man, whom nature had so admirably qualified to set off the trappings of royalty.^ Next to his person rode the nobility of England, and those of Normandy followed. In consequence of the dispute between Stigand, ai'chbishoj) of Canterbury, and the pope, William: chose to be crowned and consecrated by the hand of Aldred, archbishop of York;' to avoid the possibility of the ceremony being questioned at any future time. He took not the crown, however, as a right of conquest, but by consent of the people ; for the archbishop, before he placed the royal circlet on his head, paused, and turning to the English nobles, asked them " if they were ' Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. ^ Ingwlphus. Orclericus Vitalis. ' "Then, on Midwinter-day, archbishop Aldred hallowed him to king at Westminster, and gave him possession with the l)ooks of Christ; and also swore him, ere that he would set the crown uixjn his head, that he would so well govern this nation as any king before lum best did, if they would be faithful to him."— Saxon Chronicle. wilhng to 1 which they i that the veh had nearly WiUiam had with a large sure, in case new vassals ; taking the ( amongst the his Norman rage set fire flames rapidl; about, produ( of many lives prelates and faltered in th for if great e: minded portic flagiition, wh nifieont edific wall?, must 1 have consider with intent to his followers, gotten their h but assistants, deed is not ir had evinced a execution a d( ance of their means l9^ appi abbey, and sh and diidem.' MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 55 ^villing to have the duke of Normandy for their king?" to which they replied with such continuous acclamations of assent, that the vehemence of their loyalty, more noisy than sincere, had nearly been productive of the most fatal consequences. WiUiam had surrounded the abbey and guarded its approaches with a large body of Norman soldiers, as a prudential mea- sure, in case any attempt upon his life should be made by his new vassals ; and those trusty guards without the abbey, mis- taking the clamorous applause within for a seditious rising amongst the Saxons, with intent to massacre their lord and his Norman followers, in the first emotions of surprise and rage set fire to the adjoining houses by way of reprisals. The flames rapidly communicating to the wooden buildings round about, produced great consternation, and occasioned the loss of many lives. WiUiam and the pale and trembling assistant prelates and priests within the church were dismayed, and faltered in the midst of the ceremonial, and with good cause; for if great exertions had not been used by the more sober- minded portion of the Norman guards to extinguish the con- flagi ition, which presently extended to the abbey, that mag- nificent edifice, with all the illustrious company witliin its walls, must have been consumed together. Some persons have considered this fire as the work of the Saxon populace, with intent to destroy at one blow the Norman conqueror and his followers, with such of their own countrymen as iiad for- gotten their honour so far as to become, not only witnesses, but assistants, at the coronation of their foe. * And this in- deed is not improbable, if the Anglo-Saxons of that period had evinced a spirit capable of conceiving and canyiiig into execution a design of such terrific grandeur for the deliver- ance of their country. The Norman soldiery could by no means if? appeased till their beloved chief came out of the abbey, and showed himself to them in his coronation-robes and diadem.' ' William of Poitou. Lingai-d. •, I j 1 t ■ J ... 1 ■! i i; -' ' I h i 1 1 > fl H^ 1 ! ^H' m i H ^^^^^B ^^B'-' f MATILDA OF FLANDERS, QUEEN OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. CHAPTER II. Matilda assumes the title of queen of England in Normandy — Her regency there — Patronage of learning — Charities — Her vengeance on Brihtric Meaw — Obtains his lands — His imprisonment — Death in prison — William's court at Berkhamstead — Triumphant return to Normandy — Matilda awaits his landing — Triumphal Norman progresses — Revolts in England — William re-appoints Matilda regent^ — Embarks for England in a storm — William sends for Matilda — She arrives in England with her children — Her coronation at Winchester — Champion at her coronation — Birth of her son Henry — Bayeux tiipestry — The dwarf ai"ti8t, Turolil- -Matilda's daughter — Itevolt of the English — Queen Matilda's return to Normandy — Regent there the third time — Her passionate love for her eldest son— I>i'ath of her father — Dissensions of her brothers — 111 effects of her absence — Separate governments of William and Matilda — King of France attacks Matilda- — Her able government — Discontent of Norman ladies — Scandalous reports — William's sHppv)sed conjugal infidelity — Matilda's cruelty to her rival— Duke of Bretagne invades Normandy — Marriage with Matilda's second daughter — Dissensions in the royal family — Matilda's par- tiality to her son Robert — Her second son, prince Richard — His death — New Forest. "Ouii mistress Matilda/' says William of Poitou/ the chap lain of the Conqueror, "had already assumed the name of queen, though she was not yet crowned. She had^overued Normandy dming the absence of her lord with great prudence and skill." So firmly, indeed, had that authority been sus- ' This elegant author, who is als;i called Pictaviensis, was archdeacon of Lisieux. His chronicle of the Conquest of England is written in very flowing language, greatly resembling in style an heroic poem. It abounds wi^h eulogiums ori liis royal patron, but is extremely valuable on account ot the personal history which it contains. It is sometimes called the Domestic Chronicle of William of Normandy. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 57 tained, that, thoug:h the whole flower and strength of Nor- mandy had followed the fortunes of their warlike duke to the shores of England, not one of the neighbouring princes had ventured to molest the duchess-regent. Her kinsman, the emperor Henry, had engaged, in event of any aggression on the part of France or Bretagne, to defend Normandy with the whole strength of Germany, and she also had a powerful neighbour and protector in the earl of Flanders, her father ; hut great credit was certainly due to her own political con- duct, in keeping the duchy free, both from external embroil- ments and internal strife at such a momentous period. Her government was very popular as well as prosperous in Nor- mandy, where, surrounded by the most learned men of the age, she advanced in no shght degree the progress of civihza- tion and refinement. The encouragement she afforded to arts and letters has won for this princess golden reports in the chronicle lore of that age,' Well aware was Matilda of the importance it is to princes to enlist in their service the pens of those who possess the power of defending or undermining thrones, and whose influence continues to bias the minds of men after the lapse of ages. " This princess," says Ordericus Vitalis, " who derived her descent from the kings of France and emperors of Germany, was even more distinguished for the pmity of lier mind and manners than for her illustrious lineage. As a queen she was munificent, and liberal of her gifts. She united beauty with gentle breeding and all the graces of Christian holiness. While the victorious arms of her illus- trious spouse subdued all things before him, she was inde- fatigable in alleviating distress in every shape, and redoubled licr alms. In a word, she exceeded all commendations, and w on the love of ail hearts." Such is the character which one of the most eloquent and circumstantial historians of tlie eleventh centiu-y has given of Matilda. Yet Ordericus \ italis, as a contemporarj' witness, could scarcely have been ignorant of the dark stain wliich the I first exercise of her newly-acquired power in England has left • Ordericus Vitalis. William of Poitou. 1 '! 'i t i •|: 1 h \ ' ' 1 1 t • - \ \ 1 !M I t 1 t; 1 'I ' 58 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. i • '1-^ I 11: upon her memory. The Chronicle of Tewkesbury, which states that Brihtric Meaw, the lord of the honour of Glou- cester, when he resided at her father's court as ambassador from Edward the Confessor had refused to marry Matilda, adds, that in the first year of the reign of Wilham the Con- queror, Matilda obtained from her lord the grant of all Brihtric's lands and honoiu^, and that she then caused the unfortunate Saxon to be seized at his manor of Hanelye, and conveyed to Winchester, where he died in prison and was privately buried.' Thus, then, does it appear that Matilda, after having enjoyed for fourteen years the greatest happiness a;? a wife and mother, had secretly brooded over the bitter memory of Ihe shght tiiat had been offered to her in early youth, for the purpose of inflicting the deadliest vengeance in return on tlio in; • vho had rejected the love she had once condescended to offer. Tliis circumrtance is briefly related, not only iv a general, but a topographical history, without comment, and it is in m) shght degree confirmed by the records of the Domesday-book, where it appears that Avening, Tewkesbiuy, Fau'ford, Thom- bury, Whitenhurst, and various other possessions in Gloucester, shire, belonging to Brihtric, the son of Algar, were granted to Matilda by the Conqueror ; and after her death, revercing to the crown, were by Wilham again bestowed on their second son, William Rufus.^ Matilda, moreover, deprived Gloucester of its charter and civic hberties, merely l)ecause it was the city of the unfortunate Brihtric, — perhaps for showing some sign of resentment for ' Chron. Tewkesbury, B'L. Cottonian MSS. Cleopatra, c. 111. Moiuistioon, vol. iii. p. 59. Leland's Coll., vol. i. p. 78. Tho author of the continuation of Brut, bom in the same age, and written in the reign of Henry I., son of tliis queen, thus alludes to this circumstance: ' La qiiele jadis, quant fu pucelle, Ami vm conte d'Angleterre, Brihtric Man, le oi nomer, Apres le roi ki fu riche her. A lui la pucell envoeia mcssager. Pur sa amour a lui procurer: Mais Brihtric Maude refasa." ^ " Infra scriptas terras tonuit Brihtric, ot jwst Rcgiua Matildii.' book, torn. ii. p. 100. History of Gloccestor. WTio, when she was maiden, Lovid a count of England, Brihtric Mau he was named, Except the king was no richer man. To him the virgin sent a messenger, His love for her to obtain : But Brihtric refiised Maude.' Doniccidav- his fate, on tJiis evi robberv, if to make a ^ tunate son pei'haps, fo] wrong was > had not yet A few d reason to dij at Berkhams drawing roui princes and allegiance, he step, for tlie j Saxon subjec abbey of St. 3 prayers were i souls of all wh Wilham ha y^ife and fami to display to h induced him t MatOda. Vre garrisons in all ^ the leading were Edgar A re-embarked in with the most . crossed the seas ' In addition to , we subjoin this „„, antiquarian lilstoriai ;s stated in J)„n,es, J^onfe^or; but haviii ^'iindeis, previous to to niiury l,er himself and bestowed, seemin '^tu-y Cuttle. Bristol ' William of l) :jl,.. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 59 his fate. We fear that the first of our Norman queens must, on tliis evidence, stand convicted of the crime of >vrong and robbery, if not of absolute murder ; and if it had been possible to make a post-mortem examination on the body of the luifor- tunate son of Algar, sufficient reason might have been seen, perhaps, for the private nature of his interment. All this wrong was done by agency ; for, if dates be correct, Matilda had not yet entered England.^ A few days after his coronation, WiUiam, feeling some reason to distrust the Londoners, withdrew to his old quarters at Berkhamstead, where he kept his court, and succeeded in drawing round him many of the most influential of the Saxon princes and thanes, to whom, in return for their oaths of allegiance, he restored their estates and honours. His next step, for the mutual satisfaction of his Norman followers and Saxon subjects, was to lay the foundfition of the church and abbey of St. Martin, now called Battle-abbey, where perpetual prayers were directed to be offered up for the repose of the souls of all who had fallen in that sanguinary conflict. William having been now six months separated from his wife and family, his desire to embrace them once more, and to display to his Norman subjects his newly acquired gr.andeur, induced him to spend the Easter festival in Normandy with Matilda. Previous to his departure, he placed strong Norman garrisons in all his castles, and carried with him to Normandy all the leading men among the Anglo-Saxons. Among these were Edgar Atheling, Morcar, Edwin, and Waltheof.^ He re-embarked in the Mora, in the month of March, 1067, and, with the most splendid company that ever sailed from England, crossed the seas, and landed on his native shore, a little below ' In addition to our numerous ancient authorities regarding Brihtric Meaw, we subjoin tliis nnportant extract from a work by one of the most learned antiquarian historians of the age: "Brihtric, the son of Algar, a Saxon thane, is stated in DomesiLiy to liave held this manor in the reign of Edward the Confessor; but having given offence to Maud, the daughter of Baldwin count of Flanders, previous to her marriage with William duke of Normandy, by reftising to marry her himself, his property was seized by that monarch on the conqii&st, and bestowed, seemingly in revenge, upon the queen." — Ellis's History of Tliorn- bury Castle. Bristol, 1831' * William of Poitou. Maimesbury. S. Dunelm. Walsiugham. M iMi- i ' t !• i I, :! f W'W \ w 111 : 1; '■;■■• : ! i I » ,1 60 ^lATILDA OF FLANDERS, I S the abbey of Fescamp. Matilda was there^ with her children/ in readiness to receive and welcome her illustrious lord, who was greeted Avith the most enthusiastic rapture by all classes of his subjects. For joy of William's return the solemn fast of Lent was this year kept as a festival; all latoiu* was suspended, and nothing but mirth and pleasure prevailed in his native Nomiandv." ^Villiam appears to have had infinite pleasure in displaying, not onl}' to his wife and family, but to the foreign ambassadors, the costly spoils which he had brought over from England/' The quantity and exquisite workmanship of the gold and silver plate, and, withal, the richness of the embroidered garments wrought by the skdful hands of the Anglo-Saxon ladies, (then esteemed so inestimably precious in all parts of Europe, that they were called, by distinction, Anglicum opus,*) excited the admiration and astonishment of all beholders ; but more particularly did the splendid dress of his guards, and the magnificence and beauty of the long-haired and moustached Anglo-Saxon nobles by whom he was attended, attract the wonder of the foreign princes and peers. On the 18tli of Jime, Matilda's newly erected abbey-churcli of the Holy Trinity, being now completed, was consecrated with great pomp, in the presence of the royal foundress and her victorious lord. On the same day, duke William presented at the altar their infant daughter Ceciha, and devoted her to the service of God." A grand, yet painfully exciting pageant that scene must have been, for who could then answer how far the heart of the unconscious babe, who was thus devoteu to a hfe of rehgious celibacy, obedience, humility, poverty, and seclusion from the world, might hereafter acquiesce in the sacrifice to which her parents were devoting her ? But what a subject for the penci' of the historic painter, that church in its fresh glorious beauty ! — thronged with a venerating congre- gati(^n of nobles, ladies, burghers, sol«'icrs, peasants, mariners, aud craftsmen, clad in the picturesque costumes of their various • William of Poitou. Henderson. Williuui of I'oituu. Ibid. ■* Englisli work. * Hardy's Xotcs on William of Malmcsbury. ranks and and vjmqu blended in Matilda, ini to wjiicli h< her, surroui with fonder just been sej conqueror ol who had pn a name greai TJie wholt triumphant Normandy, \i of freedom \ people of En^ garded as a fa locusts who h its fatness, rising througl Normans.^ t was withdrawi tlie proceeding was going on pleasure whicl idea of keepin he re-appoint( Normandy, anc Dieppe on the Winchelsca, ai ' Milt-Ida's foun( v^th recent events ^iroudc, when rela ^\'iis brought up in tion: "These vast Matilda, wife of WL and for-otten i,i it, 'liiy It tbrnis one of I'liljlie buildings in * Ordcricus Vitali MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 61 ranks and callings, interspersed with the victorious Nonnan and vanquished Saxon chiefs, whose descendants are now blended into one mighty people, — the beautiful duchess Matilda, invested with the regal in^ vaia of the queenly rank to wiiich her warlike consort's late achievements had elevated her, sui'roiuided with all her blooming progeny, yet looking with fonder maternal interest on the chosen lamb which had just been separated from that fair flock, to be presented by the conqueror of England as a thank-offering to the God of battles, who had prospered him in his late enterprise, and given him a name greater tlian that of his far-famed predecessor, Hollo.' The whole summer was spent by William in a series of triumphant progresses, through the to^vns jmd cities of Normandy, with his queen-duchess." Meanwhile, the spirit of freedom waa crushed, but not extinguished, among the people of England, and the absence of the Conqueror was re- garded as a favourable opportunity for expelling the unwelcome locusts who had fastened upon the land, and were dcNouring its fatness. A secret plot was organized for a simultaneous rising throughout England, and a general massacre of the Normans.* But though the terror of William's actual presence was withdrawn for a season, he kept up a strict espionage on the proceedings of the English. The tin^t rmnour of what was going on among them, roused him from the c-xeer of pleasure which he had been pursuing. Relinquistn .ig the idea of keeping a splendid Christmas with Ins belovjd family, he re-appointed Matilda and his son Robert regents of Normandy, and embarking on a stormy sea, he sailed from Dieppe on the 6th of December.* On the 7th he arrived at Winchelsca, and proceeded immediately to London, to the ' Matilda's foundation possessfts a strong historical Interest, even as connected VTitli recent events in France. M. de Lamartine, in his heautifnl woik on the Giroude, when relating the (x;ciirrences of the youth of Charlotte Curdiiy, who was brought up in that abbey, gi\o.s us this information on its niotler. destina- tion: "These vast cloisters and chapel of Norman architecture, built in 1066 by Matilda, wife of Wilham the Conqueror, after having l)een deserted, degi-aded, and forgotten in its ruins until 1730, was then magnificently restored; at this (lay it fonns one of the finest hospitals in France, and one of the most splendid public buildings in the city of Caen." — Vol. iii. p. 57. 1848. * Ordericus Vitalis. Saxon Chronicle. * W. Poitoa. * C ericus Vitalis. r\ ^ \ ■ \ \\\ i \ ! ! i-U ' I ! lli 1 i- I t-i IH!! C2 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. *i: I In , consternation of the malcontents, M'ho thought they were sure of liin: for the winter season, After the suppression of the revolt, William, perceiving th<; disadvantages attendant on a queenless court, and fceli'ig >vithal the greatest desire to enjoy the society of his beautiful consort, despatched a noble coiTipany into Normandy, to con- duct Matilda and her children to England.' She joyfully obeyed the welcome mandate of her lord, and crossed the sea with a stately cortege of nobles, knights, and ladies.^ Among the learned clerks by whom she was attended Avas the cele- brated Gui, bishop of Amiens, who had distinguished himself by an heroic poem on the defeat and fall of Plarold. Matilda arrived in England soon after Easter, in the month of April, 1068, and proceeding immediately to Winchester, was received with great joy by her lord : preparations Avere instantly commenced for her coronation, which was appointed to take place in that city on Whit -Sunday/ The great festivals of the church appear in the middle ages to have been considered by the Ensrlish as peculiarly auspicious days for the solemnization of coronations and marriages, if we may judge by the freqn- n v of their occurrence at those seasons. Sunday was gener^. iy < hiysen for a coronation-day. William, who had been exceediiig-y anxious to share his newly acquired honours with Matilda, chose to be re-crowned at the same time, to render the pageant of her consecration more impos- ing ; and farther to concihate the affections of his English subjects, he repeated for the second time the oath by which he engaged to govern with justice and moderation, and to preserve inviolate that great palladium of Enghsh liberty, trial by jury.^ This coronation was far more splendid than that which had preceded it in Westminster-abbey, at W^illiam's first inaugu- ration, where the absence of the queen and her ladies deprived the ceremony of much of its brilliancy, and the alarming conflagration by which it was interrupted must have greatly ^ Ordericus Vitalis. ^ Ibid. * Florence of Worcester. S. Dtmclni. M. Westminster. * S. Dunelni. Saxon Chronicle. abridged the p( that occasiou, WHS in the smi long and bright of summer heal contemporary hi and the Conquei gracious mood t the occasion, an( graceful and maj and beauty of h Gvery one preseni with which this at of Normandy att( ^lie crown was p; York, she was ser The first occas instituted, is said at Winchester, yi associated with I The ceremonial oi precedents for mos coronations.' Am has been for som the salt and the c; dining-table, and ] knives laid on the royal luxuries at fair Matilda, who] proverb which sayi ^''The grand pa sovereign, and reci the bread-cover, eJ Beauchamps held t] manor of Addingtor Tezehn, his cook f. dillegrout, which esj Henderson. \ * MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 63 abridged the p;inp and festivities that had been anticipated on that occasiou. Here every thing went off auspiciously. It was in the smiling season of the year, when the days were long and bright, without ha\ing attained to the oppressive loss of summer heat. The coin])uny, according to the rc'i )rt oi contemporary historians, was exceedingly numerous and noMe; and the Conqueror, who appears to have been m ■■ m<> lerfully gracious mood that day, wfis very sprightly ant^ fa^ n the occasion, and conferred favours on all who sol tC' 3 graceful and majestic person of queen Matilda, and >es and beauty of her fine children, charmed the pop uii d every one present was delighted with the order and rc{^ .iiy with which this attractive pageant was conducted.' The nobles of Nonnandy attended their duchess to the church ; but after the crown was placed on her head by Aldred, archbishop of York, she was served by her new subjects, the English. The first occasion on which the office of champion was instituted, is said to have been at this splendid coronation at Winchester, where William caused his consort to be associated with himself in all the honours of royalty.'' The ceremonial of Matilda's inaugiu-ation-banquet afforded precedents for most of the grand feudal offices at subsequent coronations.' Among these, the office of 'grand pannetier* has been for some time extinct. His service was to bear the salt and the carving-knives from the pantry to the king's dining-table, and his fees were the salt-cellars, spoons, and knives laid on the royal table. " Forks were not among the royal luxuries at the board of the mighty William and his fair Matilda, who both, in feeding themselves, verified the proverb which says * that fingers were made before forks.' " — "The grand pannetier likewise served the bread to the sovereign, and received, in addition to the rest of his fees, the bread-cover, called the coverpane. For this service the Beauchamps held the manor of Beauchamp Kib worth. The manor of Addington was likewise granted by the Conqueror to Tezehn, his cook, for composing a dish of white soup called diUegrout, which especially pleased the royal palate." ' Henderson. * Ibid. ' Glories of Regality. I I 1 I 1 : « I f I 1 ! I I 1 i ^ i !i ; ■ I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I ■AO 1^ 1^ 2.2 S^IL 1^ 2.0 1.8 1.25 |||.4 1.6 ^ 6" 1> fliotographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 *^^ ^ "^^ '^ /*^0 V 64 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ' ', " When the noble company had retired from the church, and were seated at dinner in the banqueting hall/' says Hen- derson, in his Life of the Conqueror, " a bold cavalier called Marmion,^ completely armed, rode into the hall, and did at three several times repeat this challenge : — ' If any person denies that our most gracious sovereign, lord William, and his spouse Matilda, are not king and queen of England, he is a false-hearted traitor and a har ; and here I, as champion, do challenge him to single combat/ " No person accepted the challenge, and Matilda was called la reine ever after. v The same year, Matilda brought into the world her fourth son, Henry, sumamed Beauclerc. This event took place at Selby, in Yorkshire, and was productive of some degree of satis- faction to the people, who considered the EngUsh-bom prince with far more complacency than his three Norman brethren, Robert, Eichard, and WiUiam-Rufus. Matilda settled upon her new-bom son all the lands she possessed in England and Normandy; they were to revert to him after her death. Tran- quillity now appeared to be completely restored ; and Matilda, joying every happiness as a wife, a mother, and a queen, seemed to be placed at the very summit of earthly prosperity. Whether it be by accident, or owing t-j a close attention to the reaUty he saw before him, it is certain that the antique limner who drew Matilda's portrait has represented the organ of oonstructiveness in her head as very decidedly developed. She afforded remarkable instances of this propensity in the noble ecclesiastical buildings of which she was the foundress, also in her ingenious and curious example of industry in the Bayeux tapestiy, wherein she has wrought the epic of her husband's exploits, from Harold's first landing in Normandy to his fall at Hastings. It is, in fact, a most important historical document, in which the events and costume of * Henderson inaccurately says "Dymock -," it was Marmion. Tins ceremony, tinknown among the Saxon monarchs, was of Norman ori^n. The land^^ of Fontenaye, in Normandy, were held by Marmion, one of the followers of William the Conqueror, on the tenure of championship. The office was hereditary in the femily of Marmion, and from them, by heirship, descended to the Dymocks of Scrivelsbye.— See Dugdale. The armorip' bearings of the Marmions, from the performance of this great service, were, — sable, an arming sword, the jpoint in chief, argent. — Glories of Regality. f, m-^ iv ; W.^ I 1 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 65 that momentous period are faithfully presented to us, by the indefatigable fingers of the first of our Norman queens and her ladies, and certainly deserves a particular description. This curious monument of antiquity is still preserved in the cathedral of Bayeux, where it is distinguished by the name of "la Tapissiere de la Reine Matilde:" it is also called " the duke of Normandy's toilette" which simply means the duke's great cloth. It is a piece of canvas, about nineteen inches in breadth, but upwards of sixty-seven yards in length, on which, as we have said, is embroidered the history of the conquest of England by William of Normandy, commencing with the visit of Harold to the Norman court, and ending with his death at the battle of Hastings, 1066. -• . .. '.i ^ ; The leading transactions of those eventful years, the death of Edward the Confessor, and the coronation of Harold in the chamber of the royal dead, are represented in the clearest and most regular order in this piece of needlework, which contains many hundred figures of men, horses, birds, beasts, trees, houses, castles, churches, and ships, all executed in their proper colours, with names and inscriptions in Latin, explanatory of the subject of every section.' This pictorial chronicle of her mighty consort's achievemento appears to have been, in part ' The Bayeux tapestry has lately been much the subject of controversy among some learned individuak, who are detenmned to deprive Matilda of her tradi- tionary fkme as the person firom whom this specimen of female skill and industry emanated. Mont&ucon, Thierry, Planche, Ducarel, Taylor, and many other important authorities, may be quoted in support of the historical tradition that it was the work of Matilda and her ladies. The brief limits to which we are coniiued in these biographies, will not admit of our entering into the arguments of those who dispute the fact, though we have careMly examined then; and, with due deference to the judgment of the lords of the creation on all subjecta Conner ted with policy and science, we venture to think that our leameci iriends, the archeeologists and antiquaries, would do well to toect their intellectual powers to more masculine objects of inquiry, and leave the question of the Bayeux tapestry (with all other matters allied to needle-craft) to the decision of the ladies, to whose province it peculiarly belongs. It is matter of doubt to us whether one out of the many gentlemen who have disputed Matilda's claims to that work, if called upon to execute a copy of either of the figures on canvas, would know how to put in the first stiteh. The whole of the Bayeux tapestry has been engraved, and coloured like the original, by the Society of Antiquaries, who, if they had done nothing else to merit the approbation of the historical world, would have deserved it for tliis alone. VOL. I. . . JP 1 •■; \ 'A 'S 1!: if ! t i fp \ I n. t '■ ! i: 1 do MATILDA OF FLANDEBS. i '. - •1^^ li] wm n-i Ir at least, designed for Matilda by Turold, a dwarf artist, who, moved by a natural desire of claiming his share in the celebrity which he foresaw would attach to the work, has cunningly introduced his own ef&gies and name, — ^thus authenticating the Norman tradition, that he was the person who illuminated the canvas with the proper outlines and colours.' It is pro- bable that the wife of the Conqueror and her Norman ladies were materially assisted in this stupendous work of feminine skill and patience by some of the hapless daughters of the land, who, hke the Grecian captives described by Homer, were employed in recording the story of their own reverses, and the triumphs of their haughty foes/ , ,,,^j (,, „ About this period William laid the fomidation of that mighty fortress and royal residence, the Tower of London, which was erected by a priestly architect and engineer, Gundulph bishop of Rochester. He also built the castle of Hurstmonceaux, on the spot which had, in the first instance, been occupied by the wooden fort he brought over from Normandy; and, for the batter security of his government, built and strongly garrisoned many other strong fortresses, forming a regular chain of military stations from one end of England to the other.' These pro- ceedings excited the jealous displeasure of such of the Anglo- Saxon nobles as had hilherto maintained a sort of passive amity with their Norman sovereign, and they began gradually to desert his court. Among the first to withdraw from the royal circle were the darlings of the people ' im and Morcar. WilUam had in the first instance, by . most insidious caresses, and the promise even of giving him one of his ■ * Thierry's History of the Anglo-Normans. The figttres were, in fiict, always prepared for tapestry work by some skilfd artisi^ who designed and traced them out in the same colours that were to he used in silk or woollen by the embroideress; and we are told in the life of St. Dunstan, that " a certain religious lady, being moved with a desire of embroidering a sacerdotal vestment, earnestly entreated the future clianccUor of England, who was then a young man in an obscure station of life, but creeping into notice through his excellent taste ra such delineations, to draw the flowers and figures, which she afben^'ards formed with threads of gold." ' When Napoleon was preparing to invade England, he brought the Bayeux tapestry forward in a very pompous manner, to revive the recollection of the oonqu^ of this island by William of Normandy. ' At Norwich, Warwick, Lincoln, York, Nottingham, &c. &c. daughtera was the y the beaut ^aa, howe much, tha *hey organ mark, and attacks upc to join. The rep( 1069, comp( and her chij duchess was warlike lord' duchy, where and the peop the court and had been so English wars, therefore, a m of William to regency of No ^as, as before,] and at partingJ for the speedy! .^e the arts , interests of the somewhat supeJ betrayed her h favour, and in dissensions bet, "»Pture betwee father, 'ihe d ««d the unsettli strife between hi ^d added in J MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 67 daughters in marriage, eriaeavoured to conciliate Edwin, who was the youngest of the two chieftains, anJ remarkable for the beauty of his person. The promised bride of Edwin was, however, withheld from him, which exasperated him so much, that he retired with his brother into the north, where they organized a plan with the kings of Scotland and Den- mark, and the Welsh princes, for separate "tut simultaneous attacks upon William, in which the disaffected Saxons were to join. The repeated and formidable revolts of the English, in 1069, compelled William to provide for the safety of Matilda and her children in Normandy.* The presence of the queen- duchess was, indeed, no less required there, than that of her warhke lord in England. She was greatly beloved in the duchy, where her government was considered exceedingly able, and the people were beginning to murmur at the absence of the court and the nobility, which, after the states of Normandy had been so severely taxed to support the expense of the English wars, was regarded as a national calamity. It was, therefore, a measure of great political expediency on the part of William to re-appoint Matilda, for the third time, to the regency of Normandy. The name of his eldest son, Robert, was, as before, assodated with that of Matilda in the regency; and at parting, th 3 Conqueror entreated his spouse " to pray for the speedy termination of the English troubles, to encou- rage the arts of peace in Normandy, and to take care of thi? interests of their youthfiil heir.'" The latter injunction was somewhat superfluousj for Matilda's fondness for her first-bom betrayed her into the most injudicious acts of partiality in his favour, and in all probability was the primary cause of the dissensions between him and his brothers, and the subsequent rapture between that wrong-headed prince and his royal father. The death of the earl of Flanders, Matilda's fathw, and the unsettled state of her native country, owing to the strife between her brothers and nephews, greatly troubled her, and added in no sUght degree to the anxious cares with which * Ordericus Vitalis. ' Ordericus Vitalis. Henry Huntingdon. Malmesbxvy. f2 1 I ' »' 1 1 t 'i i i 1; 1 i ■i i 1 1 1 ^1 . j-' il[f if w III [' \ ? ■• 1 i, I- \ n 68 MATILDA OF FLA'lirbEHff. ;, J 1' : III' Hi i' I 'IE I ' ' ■i ^ J' I k her return to Normandy was clouded, after the brief splendour of her residence in England as queen.* ' '^'^ "'^ " ' "*. hi The breaking up of the court at "Winchester, and the departure of queen Matilda and her children for Normandy, cast a deep gloom on the aspect of Wilham's affairs, while it was felt as a serious evil by the industrious classes, whose prosperity depended on the encouragement extended to their handiworks by the demands of the rich and powerful for those articles of adornment and luxury, in the fabrication of which many hands are profitably employed, — employment being equi- valent to wealth with those whose time, ingenuity, or strength can be brought into the market in any tangible form. But where there is no custom, it is useless to tax the powers of the craftsman or artisan to produce articles which are no longer re- quired. This was the case in England from the year 1069, when, the queen and ladies of the coiut having quitted the country, trade languished, employment ceased, and the horrors of civil war were aggravated by the distress of a starving population. It was, according to most accounts, in this year, 1069, that William, to prevent the people of the land from confederating together in nocturnal assemblies, for the purpose of discussing their grievances and stimulating each other to revolt, compelled them to couvre feu, that is to extinguish the hghts and fires in their dwellings at eight o'clock every evening, at the tolling of a bell, called from that circumstance the curfew, or couvre feu} Such, at any rate, has been the popular tradition of ages, and traces of the custom in many places stiU remam. William had adopted the same measure, in his early career tus duke of Normandy, to secure the better observance of his famous edict for the suppression of brawls and murders in his dominions, called emphatically 'God's peace.**' '^ '! iifl^o;) , ,. When William took the field after Matilda's departure, and conmienced one of his rapid marches towards York, where Waltheof had encouraged the Danish army to winter, he J ,j ' OrdcriciM Vitalis. ' Speed. It was first established at Winchester .-^^assan's Lives of the Bishops of Winchester. 3 Ordericus Vitalis. The curfew is still tolled in soae districts of Normandy, where it is called La Setraite. — Ducorel. swore "by would not 1 as he entei threats of ve and sword, draw, and tl discretion b}) his cause b^ niece, Judith the ruins of 1 kept his Chri The aielan the north of chronicle, anc years 1070 a affianced husl and Matilda, charged, as wa inherited kinsi intercepted an of Normi^is. Enghsh, and melted into when the blee flowing hair, beguiled him ferring the them to perpet The Saxon rights and ancij impossible to a] deprive them o( lish clergy to aj William was si church gover was to deprive Saxon tongue; ' Matthew Paris.! MATILDA OP FLANDERS. swore "by the splendour of God," his usual oath, that he would not leave one hving soul in Northumberland. As soon as he entered Yorkshire, he began to execute his terrible threats of vengeance, laying the whole country waste with fire and sword. After he had bribed the Danish chief to with- draw, and the long-defended city of York was surrendered at discretion by Waltheof, he won that powerful Saxon leader to his cause by bestowing upon him in marriage his beautiful niece, Judith. These fatal nuptials were solemnized among the ruins of the vanquished city of York, where the Conqueror kept his Christmas amidst the desolation he had wrought.' The xuelancholy details of William's work of devastation in the north of England are pathetically recorded by the Saxon chronicle, and we will close the brief annals of the direftil years 1070 and 1071 with the death of earl Edwin, the affianced husband of one of the daughters of the Conqueror and Matilda. He was proceeding from Ely to Scotland, charged, as was supposed, with a secret mission from his dis- inherited kinsman, Edgar, to the king of Scots, when he was intercepted and slain, after a valiant defence against a band of Norms^s. His death was passionately bewailed by the English, and even the stem nature of the Conqueror was melted into compassion ; and he is said to have shed tears when the bleeding head of the young Saxon, with its long flowing hair, was presented to him by the traitors who had heguiled him into the Norman ambush, and instead of con- ferring the expected reward on the murderers, he condenmed them to perpetual exile.' The Saxon bishops had stood forth as champions for the rights and ancient laws of the people, and WilUam, finding it impossible to awe or silence these true patriots, proceeded to deprive them of their benefices. It was in vain for the Eng- lish clergy to appeal to the Roman pontifiP for protection, for WiUiam was supported by the authority of the new system of church government adopted by the Norman bishops, which was to deprive the people of the use of the Scriptures in the Saxon tongue ; thereby rendering one of the best and noblest ' Matthew Paris. ' Ordericus VitaUs, p. 621. J. Brompton. >' o'^ ! ■ i !! i I !U.;r i ! i; B '^ 70 MATILDA OP FLANDERS. fi' '«; legacies bequeathed to them by that royal reformer, king Alfred — the translation commenced by him of the Word of God — a dead letter. It was the earnest desire of our Norman sovereigns to silence the Saxon tongue for ever, by substituting in its place the Norman dialect, which was a mixture of French and Danish. It was, however, found to be a more easy thing to subjugate the land, than to suppress the natural language of the people. A change was all that could be effected, by the amalgamation of the two languages, the Normans gradually acquiring as many of the Saxon words and idioms as the Anglo-Saxons were compelled to use of theirs. Latin was used by the learned, as a general medium of communication, and thus became, in a shglit degree, mingled with the parlance of the more refined portion of society. From these mingled elements our own copious and expressive language was in process of time formed. Matilda returned to England in the year 1072 : she kept her Easter festival that spring at Winchester with her lord, and her Whitsuntide at Windsor. A fierce controversy between the primates of Canterbury and York, on the nice point of ecclesiastical precedency, which first commenced in the chapel-royal within Winchester-castle, was then terminated in the presence of the king and queen ; and an amicable in- strument, acknowledging the supremacy of the archbishop of Canterbury was drawn up and witnessed by the signature of William the king, the signature of Matilda the queen,' that of the pope's legate, and all the hierarchy and mitred abbots present, who had assembled in convocation on this important matter. The unsettled state of England had the effect of again dividing WiUiam from his beloved queen, and forced them for a considerable time to reign separately, — he in England, and she in Normandy. Matilda, who possessed no inconsiderable talents in the art of government, conducted the regency of Normandy, during all the troubles in which her lord was involved, with great prudence and address. She was placed ' William of Malmesbury; Dr. Giles's translation. See, also, LanfVnnc't Letters, edited by the same Innmed gentleman. in a positio revolt of the of the king taken advnnt with the Sc continental d her absent lo the son of Fi arrangementa peace with t come to her i The Norm tent at the lo of Hugh Grai them great ui of the infideli had induced 1 sages for the instances the v conjugal mant judice of Willi the lady of G] a particular il with doing ev( subjects to rev injurious asper! ated that he h; Githa, the reports, which communicated that the reaso importance, hat the Norman daughter of o\ ' Ordericus Vita ' Henderson's ] marriages of the , church till near a q] MATILDA OF FLANDKBS. n in a position of peculiar difficulty, in consequence of tho revolt of the province of Maine, and the combined hostilities of the king of France and the duke of Bretagne, who had taken advantage of the manner in which William was occupied with the Scotch invasion and the Saxon revolt to attack his continental dominions, and Matilda was compelled to apply to her absent lord for succour. WilUam immediately despatched the son of Fitz-Osbom to assist his fair regent in her military arrangements for the defence of Normandy, and expedited a peace with the king of Scotland, that he might the sooner come to her aid in person with his veteran troops. The Norman ladies were at that period extremely malcon- tent at the long-protracted absence of their lords.' The wife of Hugh Grantmesnil, the governor of Winchester, had caused them great uneasiness by the reports which she had circulated of the infidelities of their husbands. These representations had induced the indignant dames to send peremptory mes- sages for the immediate return of their lords. In some instances the warlike Normans had yielded obedience to these conjugal mandates, and returned home, greatly to the pre- judice of William's affairs in England. This was the aim of the lady of Grantmesnil, who had for some reason conceived a particular ill-will against her sovereign; and not content with doing every thing in her power to incite his Norman subjects to revolt, she had thought proper to cast the most injurious aspersions on his character as a husband, and insinu- ated that he had made an attempt on her virtue.' i" t.,;^ Githa, the mother of Harold, eagerly caught at tL*,'' reports, which she took great pleasure in circulating. Sho commimicated them to Sweno, king of Denmark, and added, that the reason why Merleswen, a Kentish noble of some importance, had joined the late revolt in England was, because the Norman tyrant had dishonoured his fair niece, the daughter of one of the canons of Canterbury." This tale, * Ordericus Yitolis. Malmcsbury. ^ Henderson. Ordericus Vitalifl. ^ Henderson's Life of the Conqueror. It must be remembered that the marriages of the English clergy were allowed by the Anglo-Saxon catholic church till near a quarter of a century afterwards. :il. r;i^ lii , I I I ( . t * '■ i ;i f '1} ]■ i- ! [i i I M it .Ok- ■ i- ■'■1 ,i . 1 72 MATILDA OP FLANDERS. whether false or true, came in due course to Matilda's ears, and caused the first conjugal diflference that had ever arisen between her and her lord. She was by no means of a temprr to take any afiront of the kind patiently, and it is said that she caused the imfortunate damsel to be put to death, with circumstances of great cruelty.' Heame, in his notes to Robert of Gloucester, furnishes us with a curious sequel to this tale, extracted from a very ancient chronicle among the Cot- tonian MSS., which, after relating "that the priest's daughter was privily slain by a confidential servant of Matilda, the queen," adds, "that the Conqueror was so enraged at the barbarous revenge taken by his consort, that, on his return to Normandy, he beat her with his bridle so severely, that she soon after died." Now, it is certain Matilda lived ftdl ten years after the period at which this matrimonial discipline is said to have been inflicted upon her by the strong arm of the Conqueror; and the worthy chronicler himself merely relates it as one of the current rumours of the day. We are willing to hope that the story altogether has originated from the scandalous reports of that malign buey-body of the eleventh century, the lady Grantmesnil; though, at the same time, it is to be feared, that the woman who was capable of inflicting such deadly vengeance on the unfortunate Saxon nobleman who had been the object of her earliest aflfections, would not have been very scrupulous in her dealings with a female whom she suspected of having rivalled her in her husband's regard. WiUiam of Malmesbury bears testimony to the conjugal aflFec- tion which subsisted between the Conqueror and Matilda, " whose obedience to her husband, and fruitftdness in bringing him so many childreni^' he says, "excited in his mind the tenderest regard towards her." If any cause of anger or mistrust had occurred, during their long separation, to inter- rupt the conjugal happiness of Matilda and her husban^ it was but a passing cloud, for historians all agree that they were living together in a state of the most affectionate union * She caused her to be hamstrung.-BApin. her jaws to be slit. Hendcr^n says Matilda ordered dimng the } Conqueror w It was at court at Caer sovereign, ani rections in v {reely accordc ness, and pen silver,' in th( secure his govi He was mista that quarter, 1 bulent Norme his great favoi defeated and Worcester. 1 the coast, wait conspirators, w As for the grei into the plot ; her uncle the headed on a i Chester; being the hand of a William nex to the continen he had taken Fergeant, assist ' Ordericus Vital ** Saxon Annals. ' Pitz-Osbom was stood high in his fav in the cotiflpiracy. J to pardon him, sent tendering his gratel bo made, and, in the by one, with the r angry at the manm vassal kinsman, but imprisonment. — Hen MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 73 during the year 1074, great part of which was spent by the Conqueror with his family in Normandy.' ' "' ' ' It was at this period that Edgar Atheling came to the court at Caen, to make a voluntary submission to the Norman sovereign, and to entreat his forgiveness for the several insur- rections in which he had been engaged. The Conqueror freely accorded an amnesty, treated him with great kind- ness, and pensioned him with a daily allowance of a pound of silver/ in the hope that this amicable arrangement would secure his government in England from all fliture disturbances. He was mistaken : fresh troubles had already broken out in that quarter, but this time they proceeded from his own tur- bulent Norman chiefs j one of them, withal, was the son of his great favourite and trusty kinsman, Fitz-Osbom, who was defeated and taken prisoner' by the nobles and prelates of Worcester. The Danish fleet, which had vainly hovered on the coast, waiting for a signal to land troops to assist the conspirators, was fain to retreat without efiFecting its object. As for the great Saxon earl, Waltheof, who had been drawn into the plot and betrayed by his Norman wife, Judith, to her imcle the Conqueror, he was, after a long suspense, be- headed on a rising-ground just without the gates of Win- chester ; being the first Enghsh nobleman who had died by the hand of a public executioner."' WiUiam next pursued his Norman traitor, Balph de Guader, to the continent, and besieged him in the city of Dol, where he had taken refuge. The young duke of Bretagne, Alan Fergeant, assisted by the king of France, came with a powerM .!( 1 i \ ) ; ,'■ * Orderlcus Vitalifl. Malmesbury. F aw vi Annals, ., , •* Saxon Annals. Malmesbury. Broiiipton. ' Fitz-Osbom was a relation of his sovereign, and, before this act of contumacy, stood high in his favour. He was only punished with imprisonment for his share in the conspiracy. After a time his royal master, as a token that he was disposed to pardon him, sent him a costly suit of clothes ; but Fitz-Osbom, uistead of tendering his gratefhl acknowledgments for this present, ordered a large fire to be made, and, in the presence pf the messenger, burned the rich garments, one by one, with the most insolent expressions of contempt. William was very angry at the manner in which his unwonted graciousness was received by his vassal kinsman, but inflicted no severer punishment than a lengthened term of imprisonment. — Henderson. * Ordericus Vitalis. H. ('• ! I •!• 74, MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ■5 III fe 1 '■f *■ army to the succour of the besieged carl ; and William was not only compelled to raise the siege^ but to abandon his tents and baggage, to the value of fifteen thousand pounds. His diplomatic tidents, however, enabled liim to extricate himself from the embarrassing strait in which he had been placed, by a marriage between Alan and his daughter Constance. This alliance was i ) less advantageous to the princely bridegroom, than agreeable to William and Matilda. The nuptials were celebrated with great pomp, and the bride was dowered with all the lands of Chester, once the possessions of the unfortunate earl Edwin, who had formerly been con- tracted to one of her sisters.' At the close of this year died Edith, the widow of Edward the Confessor. She had retired to a convent, but was treated with the respect and honour of a queen-dowager, and was buried in Westminster-abbey. She was long survived by her imfortunate sister-in-law, Edith or Algitha, the widow of Harold, the other Saxon queen-dowager, who, having had woful experience of the calamities of greatness and the vanity of earthly distinctions, volimtarily resigned her royal title, and passed the residue of her days in obscurity. In the year 1075, William and Matilda, with their family, kept the festival of Easter with great pomp at Fescamp, and attended in person the profession of their eldest daughter Cecilia, who was there veiled a nun by the archbishop John.' " This royal maid," says Ordericus Vitalis, " had beeu educated with great care in the convent of Caen, where she was instructed in all the learning of the age, and several sciences. She was consecrated to the holy and indivisible Trinity, took the veil under the venerable abbess Matilda, and faithfuUy conformed to all the rules of conventual discipline. Cecilia succeeded this abbess in her office, having, for fourteen years, maintained the highest reputation for sanctity and wisdom. From the moment that she was dedicated to God by her father, she became a true servant of the Most High, and continued a pure and holy virgin, attending to the pious rules of her order for a period of fifty-two yeai-s." * Saxon Annals. S. Dmielin. Malmcsbury. ' Ordericus Vitalis. Molmcsbury, if t MjLTIl That where the earth was warmed with Winter's festal fires, The melancholic hare now forms ir. '...;^led brakes and briers ; j, itW*; < Aiid on rates of churches, grown wii>. ixettles, fern, and weeds. Stand? now tbo aged ranpick tnmk, where ploughmen cast their seeds. The people were by William here cut off from evei-y trade, ■ That on this spot the Norman still might enter to invade; ,jj;,f^^^ii,»,. And on this desolated place and unfrequented shore, . . . New forces evermore might lend to aid those here before." * *' ^'' The Saxon chronicle comments on the oppressive statutes enacted by the Normau conqueror for the preservation of game in* an eloquent strain of indignant irony, and says, " he loved the tall deer as if he had been their father." That game-laws were in existence at a much earUer period, is most certain; but it was during this reign that they were rendered a grievance to the people, and assumed the character of a moral wrong in the legislature of the country. The more enlightened policy of modem jurisprudence has in some degree ameliorated the rigorous penalties enacted by our Norman line of soverei^B against poaching in its various departments, but the bitterness engendered by the spirit of those laws remains in full force in the hearts of those classes against whom the statutes are supposed to point, and is constantly acted upon by persons assuming the office of political agitators, for the piu^ose of creating divisions between the people and their rulers. 'ifiiik iff) 'vy, uH .t:y.u\ui) iii i .H..; I m '"Hf|r\^i; i ■ ■ ' 1., ! i. I m 11 :r |i ; 1 < I « m 1' ' s '■■ !1 • 1 i 1 i^X . .(-■■ .' 'K .. I ■' * .' Ihu . (t,< . .«• ( li ;•. ■ ' r; ■ I'M- li, ,).! j ■ ■ I ! ) :U;I! :j 1 1 .' ''lit.,. '. li • - 1. 'i ! Kii '!() 1 ■ ' • I ■' { ' ').'.!. i ". ' (» 1. 'lil ,, (lO V ' 1 i . • . ■ , i I / . - ' • • ' I . I ' •- 1 1 ' ) I > I . 1 , . ■■• " "! ii >'l J'. - i)),i I .-.. li / MATILDA OF FLANDERS, QUEEN OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. ■ I;. CHAPTER III. IfTatilda mediates between her husband and son — Robert's insolence and rebellion — Matilda supplies him with money — Conqueror seizes Matilda's agent- Conqueror's reproaches — Queen's answer — Robert's military prowess — Field of Archembrayc — Robert wound* the Conqueror — His penitence — Matilda intercedes — Conqueror writes to his son — Robert pardoned — Conqueror's legislation in England — Domesday book — Royal revenue — Queen of England's perquisites and privileges — Her dues at Queenhithe — Officers of royal house- hold— Matilda's court the model of succecduig ones — She continues to govern Normandy — Her visit to the monastery of Ouche — Illness and death of her second daughter — Fresh cause of sorrow to the queen — Robert's dissensioiu with his father — Matilda's distress — Applies to a hennit — His vision, and message to the queen — Her grief and lingering illness — Dying of a broken heart — The Conqueror hastens from England — She dies — Her obsequies — Her alms — Tomb — Epitaph — Will — Articles of dress named therein — Portriiit {tee frontispiece) — Her children — The Conqueror's de''7/ affliction — Disquiets after the death of the queen — Fatal accident to the Conqueror — Death — His body plundered — Accidents and interruptions at his funeral — Monument — Portrait —Destruction of his tomb — Of Matilda's tomb — Her sapphire ring— Their bodies re-interred — Matilda's tomb restored — Final destruction at French revolution. « TiiE feud between her royal husband and her first-bom was very painful to Matilda, whose anxious attempts to effect a reconciliation were unavailing. When Robert's passion was somewhat cooled, he consented to see his father, but the inter- view was any thing but friendly. Ordericus Vitalis gives the following particulars of the conference. Robert assumed a very high tone, and repeated his demand of being invested with the duchies of Normandy and Maine. This was, of course, refused by the Conqueror, who sternly Ordericus Vitalil .:J?^^, MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 79 bade his ambitious heir " remember the fate of Absalom, and the misfortunes of H- ' aoam, and not to hsten to the evil counsellors who wished ,o seduce him from the paths of duty." On which Robert insolently replied, " That he did not come there to listen to sermons, with which he had been nauseated by his tutors when he was learning grammar, but to claim the investiture which had been promised to him. Answer me positively," continued he ; " are not these things my right ? Have you not promised to bestow them on me?"' — " It is not my custom to strip till I go to bed," rephed the Conqueror; " and as long as I live, I will not deprive myself of my native realm, Normandy ; neither will I divide it with another, for it is written in the holy evangelists, * Every kingdom that is divided against itself shall become desolate.''^ I won England by mine own good sword; the vicars of Christ placed the diadem of its ancient kings on my brow and the sceptre in mine hand, and I swear that all the world combined shall not compel me to delegate my power to another. It is not to be borne, that he who owes his existence to me should aspire to be my rival in mine own dominions." But Robert scornfully rejoined, with equal pride and disrespect, " K it be inconvenient for you to keep your word, I will withdraw from Normandy and seek justice from strangers, for here I will not remain as a subject." ^ With these words he quitted the royal presence, and, with a party of disaffected nobles, took refiige with Matilda's brother, Robert earl of Flanders, sumamed * le Frison,' from his having married the countess of Friesland. From this uncle Robert received very bad advice, and the king of France endeavoured, by all the means in his power, to widen the breach between the undutiful heir of Normandy and his father. Encouraged by these evil counsellors, Robert busied himself in fomenting discontents and organizing a formidable faction in his father's dominions, whence he drew large sums, in the shape of presents and loans, from many of the vassals of the ducal crown, who were willing to ingratiate themselves with the heir-apparent, \ Orderlcus Vitalis. Hemmingford. Walsingham. * Ordericus Vitalis. S. Duiielm. P. Daniel. * Ordericus Vitalis. ' H u •'} i i f I 1 r ! ! i 3 ■ •In i' f ^ '1 ii • 11 80 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. i: I I ; and to conciliate the favour of the queen-duchess, whose par- tial fondness for her eldest son was well known. The supphes thus obtained Robert improvidently lavished among his dissolute companions, both male and female. In consequence of this extravagance, he was occasionally reduced to the greatest inconvenience. When under the pressm-e of those pecuniary embarrassments, which could not fail to expose him to the contempt of the foreign princes who espoused his quarrel against his father, he was wont to apply to his too indulgent mother, Matilda, by whom he was so passionately beloved that she coidd refuse him nothing ; from her private coffers she secretly supphed him with large sums of silver and gold, and when these resources were exhausted by the increasing demands of her prodigal son, Matilda had the weakness to strip herself of her jewels and rich garments for the same purpose.* This system continued even when Robert had taken up arms against his father and sovereign. Roger de Beaimiont, — ^that faithful minister whom WiUiam had, previous to his first embarkation on the memorable expedition from St. Vallery, appointed as the premier of Normandy, and who had ever since assisted his royal mis- tress, not only with his counsels in the administration of affairs of state, but even in the education of her children,— felt it his duty to inform his sovereign of the underhand pro- ceedings of Matilda m favour of her rebel son.* Wilham was in England when the startling inteUigence reached him of the unnatural rebeUion of his first-bom, and the treachery of his beloved consort, in whom he had ever reposed the most imbounded confident e. He appears scarcely to have given credence to the repn sentations of Roger de Beaumont relating to the conduct of his queen, till, on his return to Normandy, he intercepted one of Matilda's private agents, named Sampson, who was charged with communica- tions from the queen to Robert, which left no doubt on WilUam's mind of the identity of the secret friend by whom his imdutiful son had been supphed with the means of cariy- ing on his plots and hostile measures against his govern- ' Mulincabury. Ordericus Vitalis. ^ Malmesbury. MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 81 inent.* There was a stem grandeur, not unmixed with tender., ness, in the reproof which he addressed to his offending consort on this occasion. " The observation of a certain plii- losopher is true," said he, " and I have only too much cause to admit the force of his words, — < Xaufragium rerum est mulier maleflda luarlto :' " ' The woman who deceives her husband is the destruction of her own house.' Where in all the world could you have found a companion so faithful and devoted in his affection ?" continued he, passionately. " Behold my wife, she whom I have loved as my own soul, to whom I have confided the government of my realms, my treasure, and all that I pos- sessed in the world of power and greatness, — she hath sup- ported "mine adversary against me, — she hath strengthened and enriched him £rom the wealth which I confided to her kipping, — she hath secretly employed her zeal and subtlety in his cause, and done every thing she could to encourage him against me !"* Matilda's reply to this indignant but touching appeal, which her royal husband, more it should appear in sorrow than in anger, addressed to her, is no less remarkable for its impassioned eloquence than the subtlety with which she evades the principal point on which she is pressed, and en- 1 trenches herself on the strong ground of maternal love. " My lord," said she, " I pray you not to be surprised if I feel a mother's tenderness for my first-bom son. By the virtue of the Most High, I protest that if my son Robert Iwere dead, and hidden far from the sight of the living, seven Ifeet deep in the earth, and that the price of my blood could [restore him to life, I would cheerfully bid it flow. For his ke I would endure any suffering, yea, things from which, on any other occasion, the feebleness of my sex would shrink dth terror. How, then, can you suppose that I could enjoy Jhe pomp and luxuries with which I was surrounded, when I aew that he was pining in want and misery ? Far from my [leart be such hardness, nor ought your authority to impose iich msensibility on a mother."'' ' Ordericiw Vitalis. ^ Ibid. ' Ibid, ■L -'f M'i: VOL. M i li. 'i>. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. William is reported to have turned pale with anger at this rejoinder. It was not, however, on Matilda, the object of his adoring and constant affection, that he prepared to inflict the measure of vengeance which her transgression against him had provoked. Sampson, the comparatively innocent agent whom she had employed in this transaction, was doomed to pay the dreadful penalty of the offence with the loss of sight, by the order of his enraged sovereign.' In such cases it is usual for the instrument to be the sacrifice, and persons of the kind are generally yielded up as a sort of scapegoat, or expiatory victim. But MatUda did not abandon her terrified agent in his distress ; she contrived to convey a hasty intima- tion of his peril, and her desire of preserving him, to some of the persons who were devoted to her service ; and Sampson, more fortunate than his illustrious namesake of yore, was enabled to escape the cruel sentence of his lord by taking sanctuary in the monastery of Ouche, of which Matilda was a munificent patroness. Nevertheless, as it was a serious thing to oppose the wrath of such a prince as William, the abbot Manier found no other way of securing the trembling fugitive from his vengeance, than that of causing him to be shorn, shaven, and professed a monk of Ouche the same day he entered the convent, " in happy hour both for his body and soul," observes the contemporary chronicler who relates this circumstance." It does not appear that William's affection for Matilda suffered any material diminution in consequence of these i transactions, neither would he permit any one to censure her conduct in his presence.^ She was the love of his youth, the solace of his meridian hours of life, and she preserved hei empire over liis mighty heart to the last hour of her life. But though the attachment of the Conqueror to his consort remained J unaltered, the happiness of the royal pair was materially im- paired. Robert, their first-bom, was in arms against h father and sovereign, and at the head of a numerous army,- supported by the hostile power of France on the one hand,! and the disaffected portion of William's subjects on the otheij ' Ordericns Vitalis. * Ibid. ' Ibid. He had mac instances obt nant parent, talents of his that the filial banner agains and was by n in the art of him battle, encounter on i Gerberg. "VTj] in close attent prince had ahe Lanfi^nc, archl eager to assist ii w'lom the Conq The battle wa but Kobert, who fortune of the da of his foes, when endeavours to pre was m this charg champion was ag f the arm with his [first time that Wi I bat, for he was oi knights of the age [that in all the ba Inever lost a drop ne lance of his disgrace of the ov scue, that Robei, ff his favourite ej 5m the ground f«I»ct, expressed nme of which he ' Hoveden. S. Dunebnl I ■'! MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 83 He had made a formidable attack on Rouen^ and in several instances obtained successes which at first astonished his indig- nant parent, who had certainly greatly underrated the military talents of his heir. When, however, the Conqueror perceived that the filial foe who had thus audaciously displayed his rebel banner against him inherited the martial genius of his race, and was by no means unlikely to prove a match for himself in the art of war, he advanced with a mighty army to give him battle. The royal chiefs of Normandy met in hostile encounter on the plain of Archembraye, near the castle of Gerberg. William Rufus, the Conqueror^s favourite son, was in close attendance on his father's person that day. This prince had already received the honour of knighthood from Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, his tutor, and he was eager to assist in humbling the pride of his elder brother, over w'lom the Conqueror anticipated a signal triumph.' The battle was fought with no common fury on both sides; but Robert, who headed a choice body of cavalry, decided the fortune of the day by his impetuous charge upon the rearward of his foes, where his royal father commanded, whose utmost endeavours to preserve order in his ranks were ineflFectual. It was m this charge that Robert, imconscious who the doughty champion was against whom he tilted, ran his father through I the arm with his lance, and imhorsed him.' This was the first time that William had ever been overcome in single com- bat, for he was one of the strongest men and most approved I knights of the age in which he lived; and it is a singular fact, [that in all the battles in which he had been engaged, he had Inever lost a drop of blood, till it was in this field drawn by ^he lance of his first-bom. Transported with rage at the iisgTdce of the overthrow, he called so loudly and angrily for le, that Robert recognised him, either by his voice or some |)f his favo\u"ite expletives, and hastily alighting, raised him om the ground in his arms with much tenderness and espect, expressed the deepest concern at the unintentional le of which he had been guilty, for which he most humbly ' Hoveden. S. Dunelm. M. Paris. Polydorc "Vergil. 2 S. Dunelm. Malmesbury. Hoveden. o2 ■■}■ \ s |i t'litl ■>^;^'~'; I 1 ;i ;: i- w 84 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. '¥ il entreated his forgiveness, and then placing liim on his own horse, he brought him safely out of the press.' According to some of the historians of that period, WiUiam, instead of meeting this generous burst of feeling on the part of his penitent son Math answering emotions of paternal tenderness, was so infuriated at the hmnihation he had received, that he uttered a malediction against him, which all the after sub- missions of Robert could not induce him to retract; while others, equally deseiTing of credit, assert that he was so moved with the proof of Robert's dutiful reverence for his person, and the anxiety he had manifested for his safety, that he presently forgave him, and ever after held him in better respect. Both accounts may be true in part; for it is very possible, that when the conqueror of England found himself defeated by his rebel subjects on his native soil, and his hitherto invincible arm overcome by the prowess of his son, (whose person he had been accustomed to mention with a contemptuous allusion to his inferiority in stature,) he might, while the smart of his wound lasted, have indulged in a strong ebullition of wrathful reproach, not unmixed with execrations, of which it appears that he, in common with all Normans of that era, had an evil habit. But after his passion was abated, it is certain that he did, in compHance with the entreaties of his queen, consent to receive the submission of his victorious but penitent son." In this battle WiUiam Rufus was severely wounded, as well as his father, and there was a considerable slaughter of the English troops, of which the Conqueror's army was cliiefly composed; for Robert had stolen the hearts of the Noi-mans I while associated in the regency with his mother Matilda, imd his father considered it unsafe to oppose him with his native troops. As it was, Robert remained the master of the field, having that day given indubitable proofs of able generalship and great personal valoiu*; but the perilous chance that hail nearly rendered him the murderer of his father made so deep! an impression on his mind, that he remained for a tiniel conscience-stricken, which caused him to endeavour, by em- ' S= Dunehn. M. Faria. • Ordericiw Vitalis. ploying th with his off' Matilda 1 warfare bet after the fri| the field of . Some feeling uneasiness o and William and the sight to Robert, ir full pardon ft to grant him tion of a fath the receipt c moment to ob only by three most aflPectionj effected betwee Matilda did for the Conque he thought pretence that l) to defend the' Malcolm kingi treaty of peacJ the companion! Matilda was tc bom to render] Normandy. The yeai* 10; national surve} the purpose of and tangible Ingulphus, "tl ' Ordericu • According to son Jt was not fuUy comj MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 86 ploying th : i.itcrcesaion of his mother, to obtain a reconciliation with his offended sire.' Matilda had suffered greatly in mind during the unnatural warfare between her husband and her first-bom, especially • after the frightful circumstance of their personal encounter in the field of Archembraye, which was fought in the year 1077. Some feelings of self-reproach might possibly mingle with her uneasiness on this occasion. Her health began to decline, and William was at length moved by her incessant pleading, and the sight of her tears, to write a letter with his own hand to Robert, inviting him "to repair to Rouen, and receive a fall pardon for his late rebellion, promising at the same time to grant him every thing that he could expect from the affec- tion of a father, consistently with the duty of a king." On the receipt of this welcome letter, Robert delayed not a moment to obey the summons. He came to Rouen, attended only by three servants; he was received by his parents in the most affectionate manner, and a temporary reconciliation was effected between him and his brethren.'' Matilda did not long enjoy the society of this beloved son ; for the Conqueror's affairs in England demanding his presence, he thought proper to carry Robert with him, imder the pretence that he required his services in a military capacity, to defend the northern counties against the aggression of Malcolm king of Scotland, who had once more violated the treaty of peace. WiUiam's real motive for making Robert the companion of his voyage was, because he considered Matilda was too much devoted to the interest of her first- bom to render it expedient for him to remain with her in Normandy. The year 1078' was remarkable in this country for the gi*eat national survey, which was instituted by the Conqueror for the purpose of ascertaining the precise nature of the lands and tangible property throughout England ; so that, says Ingulphus, " there was not a hide of land, water, or waste, ' Ordericus Vitalis. ' Ibid. Henderson. ^ According to some historians, the survey was not generally begun till 1080. It was not fiilly completed till 1086. — Tiiidal's Notes on Ilapin. f •! , ! i \i ' { l !: 1 m MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ir ■ 1: i, ■ 1',' ■ r ',. A. f but he knew the valuation, the owners and possessors, together with the rents and profits thereof; as also of all cities, towns, villages, hamlets, monasteries, and religious houses ; causing, also, all the people in England to be numbered, their names to be taken, with notice what any one might dispend by the year; their substance, money, and bondmen recorded, with their cattle, and what service they owed to him who held of him in fee : all which was certified upon the oaths of commissioners.'" Such is the account given by the learned abbot of Croyland of the particulars of WiUiam's " Great Terrar," or " Domes, day-book," as it was called by the Saxons. The proceedings of the commissioners were inquisitorial enough, no doubt, since they extended to ascertaining how much money every man had in his house, and what was owing to him. That in some instances, too, they were partial in their returns is evident, by the acknowledgment of Ingulphus, when, speaking of his own monastery of Croyland, he says, " The commissioners were so kind and civil, that they did not give in the true value of it :" we may therefore conclude that, whenever the proprietors made it worth their while, they were equally obhging elsewhere. Yet it was at the risk of severe punish- ment that any fraud, favour, connivance, or concealment was practised, by either the owners of the property or the com- missioners. Robert of Gloucester, in his rhyming chronicle, gives the following quaint description of the Domesday-book : " Then king William, to leam the worth of hia land. Let enquiry stretch throughout all England, How many plough land, and hiden also. Were in every shire, and what they were worth thereto ; And the rcnta of each town, and the waters each one. The worth, and woods eke, and wastes where lived none : By that he wist what he were worth of all England, And set it clearly forth that all might understand, V «;». ; And had it clearly written, and that gcript he put, I wis, In the treasury of Westminster, where it still is.'"* The description or survey of England was written in two books, the Great and Little Domesday-book f and when finished, they were carefully laid up in the king's treasury or ' Ingulphus. ' See the Chapter-house, Westminster. " The little book contains only Nortblk, Suifolk, and Essex. exchequer, shrewdly o much more Matilda, tinct revenu She was allc that is, the to the crow] to furnish ol imposts on j immunities, ventured to c was furnished shilhngs. T\ of her hundre The royal ; and they were on the mainte the king had persons among forfeited lands proprietor ther crown-service, king's need o of judicature i| court,' which councils were the throne wa, the subjects byl We must nc The latter yea she continued ., royal husband.'' | visit which she the pmyers of ' The hoasehold- prcccdents from exti ^ Miulox's Hd MATILDA OF FLANDERS. WT exchequer, to be consulted on occasion, or, aa Polydore Vergil shrewdly observes, " when it was required to know of how much more wool the English flocks might be fleeced." Matilda, though residing chiefly in Normandy, had her dis- tinct revenues, perquisites, and privileges as queen of England. She was allowed to claim her aurum regina, or queen-gold ; that is, the tenth part of every fine voluntary that was paid to the crown.' She received from the city of London simis to furnish oil for her lamp, wood for her hearth, and tolls or imposts on goods landed at Queenhithe ; with many other immunities, which the queen-consorts in latter days have not ventured to claim. The table at which the queen herself sat was furnished with viands at the daily expenditure of forty shillings. Twelve pence each was allowed for the sustenance of her hundred attendants." The royal revenues were never richer than in this reign, and they were not charged with any of the expenses attending on the maintenance of the military force of the country, for the king had taken care to impose that burden on such persons among his followers as had been enriched with the forfeited lands of the Anglo-Saxons. Almost every landed proprietor then held his estates on the tenure of performing crown-service, and furnishing a quota of men-at-arms at the king's need or pleasure. The principal or supreme court of judicature in ordinary was called curia regis, or ' king's court,' which was always at the royal residence. There councils were held, and all affairs of state transacted ; there the throne was placed, and there justice was administered to the subjects by the king, as chief magistrate.' We must now return to the personal history of Matilda. The latter years of this queen were spent in Normandy, where she continued to exercise the fiinctions of government for her royal husband.^ Ordericus Vitalis relates the particidai*s of a visit which she paid to the monastery of Ouche, to entreat the prayers of the abbot Manier, and his monks, in behalf of • I'rynne's Aunim Reginso. ' The hoiuiehold-book of Edward IV., called the " Black Book," which cites precedents from extreme antiquity. ^ Miidox's History of the Excliequer. * Ordericus Yitulis, I. '!| f I' fi ' ! ! ' I I!! ' ll f > II '!■■' f ;. IF m ^UTIL^A op flanders. h< vef'frtiA flanghter, the lady Constance, tlie wife of Alan K ♦i*'^ ^, i\vike iS Fntagne. This princess, who was pa«. •iuTiiiU:. ^' deMirows (W lirinjfinj? an heir to Hretagne, wiih chihl- less, and, ilo the ^rief of her ttiothcr, had fidlen intoftdccHniiif,' •tate of healtli. .Matilda, in tin hope of averting the appre- Jiendcd death of the youthful (lu( hoss, sought the shriiie of St. Fiu-olc, the patron of the monks of Ouehe, with prayers H^l otii rings. She was ns*')8t honourably received by the learttml abbot Manier and bus monks, who conducted her into the church. She offered a mark of gold on the altar there, and presented to the slirine of St. Eurole a costly ornament, adorned with precious stones, and she vowed many other goodly gifts in case the saint were propitious. After this the ' queen-duchess dined in the common refectory, behaving at the same time with the most edifying humility, bo as to leave I an agreeable remembrance of her nsit on the minds of the ) brethren, of whom the worthy chronicler (who relates this circumstance to the honour and glory of his convent) was one.' The visit and offerings of Matilda to the slirine of St. Eurolo were unavailing to prolong the life of her daughter, for the duchess Constance died in the flower of her age, after an unfruitful marriage of seven years. Her remains were con- veyed to England, and inl< '.-ed in the abbey of St. Edmund's Bury. Like all the cliildren of William and Matilda she had been carefully educated, and is said to have been a princess possessed of great mental acquirements. After her deatli, Alan duke of Bretagne married again, and had a family by his second wife ; but the rich grant of English lands, with which the Conqueror had dowered his daughter Constance, he was permitted to retain, together with the title of etu-l of * Ordericus Vitalis, tin; most cl(M\ucnt of all tlif histor'i in of <'m+ period, nml the most minute iind fiiithiiil in hi jwrsoniil records of tbc C i"; > ". his quipr and family, was, nevertheless, bom in England, and of .V « , parentiif.". He was ten years old at the eixK-h of the Norman invao.iiii, when tor K'ttir security he was, to use his own lanjjfuago, " conveyed with weeping eyes from Lis native country, to be educated in Normandy at the cnt"wl within 'ts bounds. In his Chronicle of the Norman Sovereigns, be . t\v\ . \ (;.. !na1ce< ligrt'ssions of a hundred pages to descant on St. Eurole, and t'-j .Cf, .'*jj of i)Ui brethreu of Ouche. Richmond, his succc88( Th(; grii Matilda, wr in consequ husband am that this M'a the young a displeased h English srbj of T'-flkid^ :;(j •fb'*"rt of ref AiJ Jut thii of great sanct to enLreat his requested hia hermit gave a queen, but dei to her qucstioi {,'ers, and gave allegory. " R( I have prayed made known t( I saw in vsxy y\ flowers, and a herd gathered but the fiery ch enou^'h to cro majestic steed, - terror departed Ws pi; ce, as the meaner animals ' "'« ueaury or f of an honourable na >"«pli. that, to punisl liini the court. I, mitl MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 9$ Uiclitnoiid, wliioh wjus long l)ornr by tlic dukes of "Brctngno, liis succcRsorB. Tlic grief whieli the early drath of lipr daught(!r caused Matilda, wjis succeeded by feeliiij,s f a more painful nature, in eonsequeuec of a fresh difference hct^ween her royal husband and her beloved son, Robijrt. Some histoi'ians' assert that this M'as occasioned by the refusal (/ the prince to luairy the young and lovely heiress of earl Waltheof, which greatly displeased his father, who was desirous of couciliatinfjr his English srbjects by such an alliance, and, at the wanu; time, of ^flkiiijj omo atonement for the murder of the unfortimate ' ixji. t.)i , which always appears to have been a painful ib'"rt of reflection to him. Alj')ut this time, ^Matilda, hearing that a German hennit, of great sanctity, was possessed of the gift of prophecy, sent to entreat his prayers for her jarring son and husband, and requested his opinion as to what would be the result.' The hermit gave a very affectionate reception to tlie envoys of the queen, but demanded three days before he delivered his reply to her questions. On the third day he sent for the messen- gers, and gave his answer in the following strain of oracular allegory. " Return to your mistress," said he, " and tell her I have prayed to God in her behalf, and the Most High has made known to nic in a dream the things she desires to learn. I saw in my vision a beautiful pasture, covered with grass and flowers, and a noble charger feeding therein. A numerous herd gathered round about, eager to enter and share the feast, but the fiery charger would not permit them to approach near enough to crop the flowers and herbage. But, alas ! the majestic steed, in the midst of his pride and courage, died, his terror departed with him, and a poor silly steer appeared in his T)l; je, as the guaidian of the pasture. Then the throng of meaner animals, who had hitherto feared to approach, rushed ' Henderson, in his Mfo of the Conqueror, states that Robert was much taken with the beauty of th»' yi Minp Saxon lady, but that his regard was by no meano of an honourable nature ; and his conduct to her displeased the Conqueror so much, that, to punish hifl son for hisults offered to his beautiftil ward, he forbad hiiu the court. * Ordericus Vitalis. • ! t i ' m K I , ;■ \\\ lif fi MATILDA OF FLANDERS. |.,;t in, and trampled the flowers and grass beneath their feet, and that which they could not devour they defiled and destroyed. I will explain the mystery couched in this parable. The steed is WiUiam of Normandy, the conqueror of England, who, by his wisdom, courage, and power, keeps the surrounding foes of Normandy in awe. Robert is the dull, inactive beast who will succeed him ; and then those baser sort of animals, the envious princes, who have long watched for the opportimity of attacking this fair, firdtful pastm-e, Normandy, will overrun the land, and destroy all the prosperity which its present sovereign has established. Illustrious lady, if, after hearing the words of the vision in which the Lord has vouchsafed to reply to my prayers, you do not labour to restore the peace of Normandy, you will henceforth behold nothing but misery, the death of your royal spouse, the ruin of all your race, and •the desolation of your beloved country."' This clever apo- logue, in which some sagacious advice was implied, Matilda took for a prediction ; and this idea, together with the increas- ing dissensions in her family, pressed heavily on her mind, and is supposed to have occasioned the lingering illness which slowly, but surely, conducted her to the tomb. The evidence of a charter signed by William king of England, Matildis the queen, earl Robert, son of the king, earl William, son of the king, and earl Henry, son of the king, proves that a meeting had taken place between these illustrious personages in the year 1082. The charter recites that " W^illiam, king of England and Normandy, and his wife Matildis, daughter of Baldwin duke of Flanders, and niece of Henry king of France, conceded to the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen, for the good of their souls, the manors of Nailsworth, Pelstede, Pinbury, and other lands in England."- The restitution of the said lands to their lawful oAvners or their heirs, would certainly have been a more acceptable wor>, in the sight of the God of mercy and justice, than the oblation of wrong and robbery which was thus dedicated to his service by the mighty Norman conqueror and his dying consort. Nailsworth being part of the manor of Minching- ' Ordoricus Vitalis. ^ A copy of tlds charter is in the Bibliotheque, Paris. hampton, ; the unlbrt year of hei idea of at temporal g< 3Iatilda'i spirits. SI iier devotio frequently, j feeling of tr the queen, m afforded a m sufficiency oi rounded, an( William, who iiis beloved c( nrrived at Ca< After Mati expired on the torians, the 3r year of her ag seventeen year one. Her bo Trinity at Cae dowed. The received, at the sion of bishop! (ieposited befor brated with clerks, and att" sJie had been t] frequently,^' say •■^Ims, in the nar A niagnificen sorrowing lord, sculpture; and ^ -Valmesbi ff I.*' I MATn.DA OF FLANDERS. 91 hampton, in Gloucestershire, was a portion of the spoils of the unfortunate Brihtric Meaw, which Matilda, in the last year of her life, thus transferred to the church, in the delusive idea of atoning for the crime by which she obtained the temporal goods of liim who had rejected her youthful love. ^latilda's last illness was attended with great depression of spirits. She endeavoured to obtain comfort by redoubling her devotional exercises and alms. She confessed her sins frequently, and with bitter tears. It is to be hoped that a feeling of true penitence was mingled with the affliction of the queen, who, at the highest pinnacle of eartlily grandeur, afforded a melancholy exemphfication of the vanity and in- sufficiency of the envied distinctions with which she was sur- rounded, and was dying of a broken heart.^ As soon as WiUiam, who was in England, was informed of the danger of liis beloved consort, he hastily embarked for Normandy, and arrived at Caen in time to receive her last farewell.'' After Matilda had received the consolations of religion, she expired on the 2nd of November, or, according to some his- torians, the 3rd of that month, anno 1083, in the fifty-second year of her age, having borne the title of queen of England seventeen years, and duchess of Normandy upwards of thirty- one. Her body was carried to the convent of the Holy Trinity at Caen, which she had built and munificently en- dowed. The corpse of the queen-duchess was reverentially received, at the portal of the church, by a numerous proces- sion of bishops and abbots, conducted within the choir, and deposited before the high altar. Her obsequies were cele- brated with great pomp and solemnity by the monks and clerks, and attended by a vast concourse of the poor, to whom she had been throughout life a generous benefactress, " and frequently," says Ordericus Vitalis, " reheved with bomiteous alms, in the name of her Redeemer." A magnificent tomb was raised to her memory by her sorrowing lord, adorned with precious stones and elaborate sculpture ; and her epitaph, in Latin verse, was emblazoned ' Ordericus Vitalis. ^ Malmesbun-. Hovedcn. Ingulphus. Ordericus Vitulis. i.\ '.■ f !;, I ■ 'W d t : k f \ ■ ■ ii'^^' ilt-H l i \'i i! li I 1. I \ I f 3 W ' i ?! :M!; ^9 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. II' U. ft ill ii I thereon in letters of gold, sotting forth in pompous language the lofty birth and noble qualities of the illustrious dead. The folloAAnng is a translation of the quaint monkish rhymes, which defy the imitative powers of modem poetry : — " Hero rests within this fair niiJ stately tonih, Matilila, scion of a regal line; The Flemish (hike her sire,' and Ailelais Her mother, to great llobert king of Franco Daughter, and sister to his royal heir. In wedlock to onr mighty William joined, She built this holy temple, and endowed With Iain's and goodly gil'l**. She, the true friend Of piety and soother of distress, Enriching others, indigent herself, Reservuig all her treasures for tho poor; And, by such deeds as these, she merited To l)e partaker of eternal life: To which she iiass'd Novemlwr 2, 1083." Matilda's >vill, which is in the register of the abbey of the Holy Trinity of Caen," fully bears out the assertion of her epitaph, touching her poverty ; since, from the items in this curious and interesting record, it is plain that the first of omy Anglo-Norman queens had little to leave in the way of personal property : the bulk of her landed possessions was already settled on her son Henry. " I give," says the royjJ testatrix, " to the abbey of the Holy Trinity my tunic, worked at Winchester by Alderet's wife ; and the mantle embroidered with gold, which is in my chamber, to make a cope. Of my two golden girdles, I give that which is ornamented with emblems, for the purpose of suspending the lamp before the great altar. I give my large candelabra, made at St. Lo, my crown, my sceptre, my cups in their cases, another cup made in England, with all my horse-trappings, and idl my vessels ; and lastly, I give tlic lands of Quetchou and Cotentin, except those which I may already have disposed of in my lifetime, with two dwellings in England ; and T have made all these bequests with tho consent of my husband." It is amusing to trace the feminine feeling with regard to ' Baldwin, Matilda's fathcT, was the descendant of • the six foresters,' us tlie first sovereigns of Flanders were called. * Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. (h'ess and rate, in h girdle, an( before she Jicr two d\ importance u.s, that an Holy Trini account of toilette; bi document, I by those ho Matilda broidered el of the patt( ill readiness nearly eight of human liij the aggregate und remain. Till the m Matilda and St. Stephen's portraits to b founded.^ Matilda took | may judge bj Montfuucon, should fade costume is sil sim])ly gather! tJie back of ek'gant circlet] the hair falls iiaud she confil ( i ii. •'if MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 93 (lres8 and bijouterie which has led the dying queen to enume- rate, in her last will and testament, her embroidered tunic, girdle, and mantle, with sundry other personal decorations, before she mentions the lands of Quctchou and Cotentin, and her two dwellings in England, — objects evidently of far less importance, in her opinion, than her rich array. Ducarel tells us, that among the records preserved in the archives of the Holy Trinity at Caen, there is a curious MS. containing an account of Matilda the royal foundress's wsu-drobe, jewels, and toilette ; but he was urial)le to obtain a sight of this precious document, because of the jealous care with which it was guarded by those holy hidies, the abbess and nuns of that convent.' Matilda did not live long enough to complete her em- l)roidered clu'onicle of the conquest of England. The outline of the pattern traced on the bare canvjis in several places, ill readiness for her patient needle, affords, after the lapse of nearly eight centuries, a moral comment on the imcertainty of hmnan life, — the vanity of human imdertakings, which, in the aggregate, are arrested in full career by the hand of death, and remain, like the Bayeux tapestry, unfinished fragments. Till the middle of the beventeenth century, the portraits of Matilda and William were carefully preserved on the walls of St. Stephen's chapel at Caen. The queen had caused these portraits to be painted when this magnificent endowment was founded.^ We have seen, by the Bayeux tapestry, that Matilda took great dehght in pictorial memorials ; and if we may judge by the engraving from this portrait, preserved in Montfaucon, it were a pity that so much grace and beauty should fade from the earth witliout remembrance. Her costume is singularly dignitied and becoming. The robe shnply gathered round the throat, a flowing veil falling from the back of the head on the shoulders, is confined by an elegant circlet of gems. The face is beautiful and delicate ; the hair falls in waving tresses roiuid her tlu-oat ; with one iiand she confines her drapery, and holds a book ; she extends ' Ducarel's Nonimn Antiquities. ^ Montfaucon's MomuueuH de la Mojuirchie Franyoise. i! 1 1 i i' ■ f- 1 i 'I 1;! H :| \ [' ;..(,;;-: .» :i i! \'.'i IF ,1^ .r i K. 94 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. li. I her sceptre with the other, in an attitude full of grace and dignity. Montfaucon declares that this painting was actually copied from the wall, before the room in which it was pre- served was pidled down. The elegance of the design and costume ought not to raise doubts of its authenticity, for it is well known that all remains of art were much better executed before the destruction of Constantinople than after that period. Female costume, with the exception of some taste- less attire which crept into the uproarious court of William Rufus, wrisj extremely graceful ; the noble circlet, the flowing transparent veil, the natural curls parted on each side of the brow, the vestal stole, drawn just round the neck in regular folds, the falling sleeves, the gemmed zone, confining the plaits of a garment that swept the ground in rich fulness, altogether formed a costume which would not have disgraced a Grecian statue. We shall see this elegant style of dress superseded in time by the monstrous Syrian conical caps, or by homed head-tire, and the heraldic tabards and surcoats, seemingly made of patchwork, which deformed the female figure in succeeding ages; but we must not look for these barbarisms at the date of Matilda's portrait. Matilda bore ten children to her royal spouse ; namely, four sons and six daughters. Robert, sumamed Courthose, her eldest son, succeeded his father as duke of Normandy. This darUng son of Matilda's heart is thus described in the old chronicler's hues : — " He was y-wox [grown] ere his fader to England came. Thick man he was enow, but not well long; Square was he, and well made for to be strong. Before his fader, once on a time he did stiu-dy deed, Wlien he was young, who beheld him, and these words said : * By the uprising of God, Robelyn me sail see. The Courthose, my young son, a stalwart knight sail be;' — For he wna somewhat short, so he named him Courthose, And he might never after this name lose. He was quiet of counsel and speech, and of body strong. Never yet man of might in Christendom, ne in Payuim, In battail from his steed could bring him down." After the death of Matilda, Robert broke out into open revolt against his royal father once more ; and the Conqueror, in his famous death-bed speech and confession, alluded to this con- duet with his domin " The du Sanguelac that he is of his bar I know th the rule c and is to I the additioi of being aJ of improvin Robert, knight and Godfrey of the taking Iiis fellow-c crown of Je eve as they holding an God to dire Robert held was regarde( raation in h kingdom,* bu obtain the en Richard, t Matilda, died have already Rufus, or Roi the Saxon his of England a youngest son Beauclerc by the throne of ' Seedeat " "Apr^s William MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 95 duct with great bitterness, when he spake of the disposition of his dominions. These were the words of the dying monarch : " The dukedom of Normandy, before I fought in the vale Sanguelac, with Harold, I granted unto my son Robert, for that he is my first begotten ; and having received the homage of his baronage, that honour given cannot be revoked. Yet I know that it will be a miserable reign which is subject to the rule of his government, for he is a foolish, proud knave, and is to be punished with cruel fortune.'" Robert acquii'ed the additional cognomen of the Unready, from the circumstance of being always out of the way when the golden opportunity of improving his fortunes occurred. Robert, though an indifferent politician, was a gallant knight and a skilful general. He joined the crusade under Godfrey of Boulogne, and so greatly distinguished himself at the taking of the holy city, that of all the Christian princes, liis fellow-crusaders, he was judged most deserving of the crown of Jerusalem. This election was made on the Easter- eve as they all stood at the high altar in the temple, each holding an unlighted wax-taper in his hand, and beseeching God to direct their choice; when the taper which duke Robert held becoming ignited without any visible agency, it was regarded by the rest of the Croises as a miraculous inti- * raation in his favour, and he was entreated to accept the kingdom,^ but he declined it, under the idea that he should obtain the crown of England. Richard, the second son of WilUam the Conqueror and Matilda, died in England in the lifetime of his parents, as we have aheady stated. William, their third son, sumamed Rufus, or Rous,^ from the colour of his hair, and called by the Saxon historians ' the red king,' succeeded to the crown of England after his father's death. Henry, the fourth and youngest son of WiUiam and Matilda, won the surname of Beauclerc by his scholastic attainments, and succeeded to the throne of England after the death of William Rufus. ' See death-bed speech of the Conqueror, in Speed's Clironicle. ' Matthew Paris. ' " Apres William Bastardus regna Will. Ic Rous." — Fitz-Stephen's Clironicle. ^■4 !i f <{i '%{ i 'W ; ( I ; \:. \ 1 tii^i ■ I! ■■:' i : ' I i'i M t ! |il \f ■^ 1 'I I i , I, tl ii^ I hflh 1: fl ■ V^l it ! i il ^ 1 89 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. The personal history of this prince will be found in the memoirs of his two queens, Matilda of Scotland, and Adelicia of Louvaine. There is great confusion among historians and genealogists respecting the names of the daughters of Matilda and the Conqueror, and the order of their birth. William of Malmes- bury, who wrote in the reign of Henry I., when enumerating the daughters of the Conqueror, says, " Ceciha the abbess of Caen still survives." The generality of historians mention Constance, the wife of Alan duke of Bretagne, as the second daughter of tliis illustrious pair. Ordericus Vitalis, a con- temporary, calls her the third,' and Agatha the second daughter. Of Agatha he relates the following interesting particulars : " This princess, who had been formerly affianced to Harold, was demanded of her father in miuriage by Alphonso king of Galicia, but manifested the greatest repugnance to this aUiance.'' She told her father "that her heart was devoted to her first spouse, and that she should consider it an abomination if she gave her hand to another. She had seen and loved her Saxon betrothed, and she revolted from a union with the foreign monarch whom she had never seen ;" and bursting into tears, she added, with passionate emotion, " that she prayed that the Most High would rather take her to him- self, than allow her ever to be transported into Spain." Her prayer was granted, and the reluctant bride died on her journey to her unknown lord. Her remains were conveyed to her native land, and interred at Bayeux, in the church of St. Mary the perpetual Virgin.^ Sandford calls this princess the sixth daughter. If so, slie could not have been the betrothed of Harold, but of carl Edwin ; and, indeed, if we reflect on the great disp.irity in age between Harold and the younger daughters of William of Normandy, and take into consideration the circumstances of his breach of contract with the little Norman lady by wedding Algitha, it is scarcely probable that his memory c^uld have been cherished with the passionate fondness Ordericus Yitalis attributes to the lady Agatha ; whereas Edwin was yoinij. ' Ordericus Vitalis. VVillmm of Malmesbury. ^ Ordericus Vitalis. •o and, remai privileged Conqueror breach of i cause of J thane was and it is s innocently I might have Malmesbury whom God exercises of that her kn( kneeling."' Vitalis mentii "Adelaide, y entirely to a 1 direction of R Adela, or A of William an and says, '< si Blois, who wa family of the councillors she atBreteuil, anc This princess ' siderable diploi an idiot; Thib Stephen de Bk tfie death of I After the deat countess Adela Gundred, or «fthe Conquer( ^^'aiTcn, a pow Surrey in Engh, a Ordericus VOL. I. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 97 and, remarkable for his beauty, liad, in all probability, been privileged with some intimacy with the princess, whom the Conqueror had promised to bestow on him in marriage. The breach of this promise on the part of WiUiam, too, was the cause of Edwin's revolt, which imphes that the youthful thane was deeply wounded at the refusal of the Norman ; and it is at least probable, that to the princess who had innocently been made a snare to him by her guileful sire, he might have become an object of the tenderest affection. Malmesbury, speaking of this princess, says, "Agatha, to whom God granted a virgin death, was so devoted to the exercises of rehgion, that after her decease it was discovered that her knees had become hard, like horn, with constant kneeUng."^ Perhaps this is the same princess whom Ordericus Vitalis mentions as their fourth daughter, of whom he says, "Adelaide, very fair and very noble, recommended herself entirely to a life of devotion, and made a holy end, under the direction of Roger de Beaumont." Adela, or Adehcia, generally classed as the foiu^h daughter of Wilham and Matilda, Ordericus Vitahs places as the fifth, and says, " She was sought in marriage by Stephen earl of Blois, who was desirous of allying himself with the aspiring family of the Conqueror, and by the advice of Wilham^s councillors she was united to him. The marriage took place at Breteuil, and the marriage fetes were celebrated at Chartres. This princess was a learned woman, and possessed of con- siderable diplomatic talents. She had four sons : Wilham, an idiot ; Thibaut, surnamed the great earl of Champagne ; Stephen de Blois, who succeeded to the English throne after the death of Henry I. ; and Henry bishop of Winchester. After the death of the count de Blois, her husband, the countess Adela took the veil at Marigney." Gundred, or Gundreda, the sixth and youngest daughter of the Conqueror and Matilda, was married to WiUiam de WaiTcn, a powerful Norman noble, and the first earl of Surrey in England. By him the lady Gundred had two sons j ' Ordericas Vitalis. Malmesbury. ^ Ordericus Vitalis. VOL. I. H 11 ■ ! 1 i ■ -1 1 i 1- V \'\ * M Ills ! i. - I r !:. s ; MATILDA OF FLANDERS. William, the successor of his father and the progenitor of a mighty line of earls of that family, and Rainold, who died without issue. Gundred only siurived her royal mother two years. She died, anno 1085, in child-bed at Castleacre in Norfolk, and is buried in the chapter-house of St. Pancras church, within the priory, at Lewes in Sussex.' The death of his beloved queen Matilda afflicted the Con- queror very deeply. He wept excessively for many days after her decease ; and to testify how keenly he felt her loss, he renounced his favourite amusement of hunting, and all the boisterous sports in which he formerly delighted.'' After this event his temper became melancholy and irritable, to which, indeed, a train of public calamities and domestic vexations might in a great measure have contributed. To the honour of Matilda, it has been asserted by some of the histo- rians of the period, that she used her influence over the mind ^ Sanclford. St. Pancras church aiul monastery had been founded and muni- ficently endowed by her lord, for the health (as his charter recites) of his soul, and the soul of Gundred his wife, and for the soul of king William, who brouglit him into England for the health also of queen Maud, mother of his wii'u, and for the health ot king William her son, who made him earl of Surrey.— Horsfield's Hist, of the Antiquities of Sussex, p. 232. Warren, though one of the most ferocious and rapacious of William's followers, was tenderly attached to his wife, whom he scarcely survived three years. The remains of both wore discovered, October 28th, 1845, by the workmen in forming a cutting for tlie Lewes and Brighton riul-road through the groimds of St. Pancras priory, in two leaden coffins, with the simple inscription of Gtjndkapa on the one, and WiLHELMUS on the other. Tliey are now deposited in Southover church, together with a tablet, previously discovered, which preserves part of the mutilated monastic verses that commemorated her virtues. They have been thus beauti- ftilly translated into modem English rhymes by the learned historian of Lewes:— ** Gundred, illustrious branch of princely race, Brought into p]ngland's church balsamic grace; Pious as Mary, and as Martha kind. To generous deeds she gave her virtuous mind. Though the cold tomb her Martha's part receives. Her Mary's better part for ever lives. O holy Pancras ! keep, with gracious care, ; A mother who ha.s made thy sons her heir. On the sixth calend of June's fatal morn, Tlie marble " One of the most remarkable tokens of the interest excited by the discovery of these remains of the youngest daughter of the Conqueror and queen Matilda may be considereil the fact, thai an eloquent sermon was preached by the av, J. Wood, to a Unitarian congregation at Westgate, on the occasion. * Ordericus Vitalis. of her ni /the peopl / Rudbonie William, h as long a / tliorough t left Englai infinitely w aggravated worldly pro during his \ M^nlmesbury. ! » MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 09 of her mighty lord for the mitigation of the sufferings of the people whom he had subjugated to his yoke. Thomas Eudbonie, the author of the Annals of Winton, says, " King WilUam, by the advice of Matilda, treated the English kindly as long as she lived, but after her death he became a thorough tyrant."' It is certainly true, that after Matilda left England in 1070, the condition of the people became infinitely worse, and it is possible that it might have been aggravated by her death. Not only the happiness, but the worldly prosperity of WiUiam appeared sensibly diminished during his widowed state. In the course of the four years that he survived his consort, he experienced nothing but trouble and disquiet." Wilham met with the accident which caused his death, at the storming of the city of Mantes. He had roused himself from a sick bed to execute a terrible vengeance on the French border, for the ribald joke which his old antagonist, the king of France, had passed on his malady ; and in pursuance of his declaration " that he would set all France in a blaze at his uprising," he had ordered the city to be fired. While he was, with savage fury, encouraging his solders to pursue the work of destruction to which he had incited them, his horse, chancing to set his foot on a piece of burning timber, started, aiid occasioned his lord so severe an injury from the pummel of the saddle, as to bring on a violent access of fever.^ Being unable to remount his horse, after an accident which must have appeared to him Hke a retributive chastisement for the barbarous deed in which he was engaged, he was conveyed in a litter to Rouen, where, perceiving he drew near his end, he began to experience some compunctious visitings of conscience for the Climes and oppressions of which he had been guilty, and endeavoured to make some self-deceiving reparation for Ids wrongs. In the first place, he ordered large simis to be distributed to the poor, and likewise for the building of churches, espe- cially those which he had recently burnt at Mantes ; next he ' Thoman Rudborne, Hist. Major. ' Malmesbury. Ordcricus Vitalis. ' Malmesbury^ h2 Higdcn. <■ : '!• *' i I '' ! '■ '»■ 1 M ! f 1. 1 Ih (11/ 11 ; I 1 1 ■X f 'i t-, 1 H ? 100 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. set all the Saxon prisoners at liberty whom he had detained in his Norman prisons ; among them were Morcar, and Ulnoth the brother of Harold^ who had remained in captivity from his childhood^ when he was given in hostage by earl Godwin to Edward the Confessor. The heart of the dying monarch being deeply touched with remorse, he confessed that he had done Morcar much wrong : he bitterly bewailed the blood he had shed in England, and the desolation and wue he had caused in Hampshire for the sake of planting the New Forest, protesting "that having so misused that fair and beautiful land, he dared not appoint a successor to it, but left the disposal of that matter in the hands of God/'' He had, however, taken some pains, by writing a letter to Lanfranc expressive of his earnest wish that William Rufus should succeed him in his regal dignity, and to secure the crown of England to tlis his favourite son, — for whom he called as soon as he had con- cluded his death-bed confessions, — and sealing the letter with his own seal, he put it into the hands of the prince, bidding him hasten to England with all speed, and deliver it to the arch- bishop, blessed him with a farewell kiss, and dismissed him. When the Conqueror had settled his temporal affairs, he caubod himself to be removed to Hem? u'^.trude, a pleasant viUage near Rouen," that he might be raoi-e at liberty to pre- pare himself for death. On the 9th of September the a^vful change which he awaited took place. Hearing the sound of the great bell in the metropolitan church of St. Gervase, near Rouen, William, raising his exhausted frame from the sup- porting pillows, asked " What it meant?" ^ One of his atten- dants replying " that it then rang prime to Our Lady," the dying monarch, lifting his eyes to heaven, and spreading abroad his hands, exclaimed, " I commend myself to that blessed lady, Mary the mother of God, that she by her holy intercession mpv reconcile me to her most dear son, our Lord Jesus Clirist;" and with these words he expired, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, 1087, after a reign of fifty-two years in Normandy, and twenty-one in England. ' See Willinm's death-bed confession in Speed. ' Eadmcr. * OrtU'ricus Vitalin, Mnlincsbury. His eld( of his deat] who had tf some self.jr court havin, to Robert, j household, y opportunity just breathei hangings, an of the royal Every one and neither deceased kin fimeral, the !ected, till He bility the san undertook to cost, for inten met by prince however, had terrible alarm ^as great dan^ the cloisters o: concerned for the lifeless rer of the church, remonstrances The example c attendants, so t manner wholly The monks the the solemnity, and accidents . ended, for whe ' Orderi I t I MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 101 His eldest son, Robert, waa absent in Germany at the time of his death ;' William was on his voyage to England ; Henry, who had taken charge of his obsequies, suddenly departed on some self-interested business ; and all the great officers of tho court having dispersed themselves, some to offer their homage to Robert, and others to William, the inferior servants of the household, with some of their rapacious confederates, took the opportunity of plundering the house where their sovereign had just breathed his last of all the money, plate, wearing apparel, hangings, and precious furniture; they even stripped the person of the royal dead, and left his body naked upon the floor." Every one appeared struck with consternation and dismay, and neither the proper officers of state nor the sons of the deceased king issuing the necessary orders respecting the funeral, the remains of the Conqueror were left wholly neg- lected, till Herlewin, a poor country knight, — but in all proba- bihty the same Herlewin who married his mother Arlotta, — undertook to convey the royal corpse to Caen; at his own cost, for interment in the abbey of St. Stephen, where it was met by prince Henry and a procession of njiftnks." Scarcely, however, had the burial rites commenced^Airhen there was a terrible alarm of fure in that quarter of the town; and as there was great danger of the devouring element communicating to the cloisters of St. Stephen, the monks, who were far more concerned for the preservation of their stately abbey than for the hfeless remains of the munificent founder, scampered out of the church, without the slightest regard to decency or the remonstrances of prince Henry and the faithful Herlewin. The example of the ecclesiastics was followed by the secular attendants, so that the hearse of the mighty William was in a manner wholly deserted till the conflagration was suppressed.'' The monks then re-entered the holy fane and proceeded with the solemnity, if so it might be called; but the interruptions and accidents with which it had been marked were not yet ended, for when the funeral sermon was finished, the stone ' Ordericus Vitalis. IJrompton. * Ordericus Vitalis. Broinpton. Malracsbury. Speed. » Ibid. « Ibid. i I i ' 1 ' i ': ;r , 1 ! 102f MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ml'M coffin set in the grave which had been dug in the chancel between tlie choir and tlie altar, and the bofly ready to he Imd therein,' Anselm Fitz- Arthur, a Norman gentleman, stood forth and forbad tlie interment : " This spot," said he, " was the site of my father's house, which this dead duke took violently from him, and here, upon part of mine inheritanre, founded this church. This ground I therefore challenge, niid I charge ye all, as ye shall answer it at the great and dreadful day of judgment, that yc lay not the bones of the despoiler on the hearth of my fathers."' The effect of this ])old appeal of a solitary individual, was an instant pause in the burial rite of the deceased sovereign. The claims of Anselm Fitz-Arthur were examined and his rights recognised by prince Henry, who prevailed upon him to accept sixty shillings as the price of the grave, and to sufler the interment of his royal father to proceed, on the condition of his pledging himself to pay the full value of the rest of tlie land;' The compensation was stipulated between Anselm Fitz-i\rthur and prince Henry, standing on either side the grave, on the verge of which the unburied remains of the Conqueror rested,j^ while the agreement was ratified in the presence of the mourners and assistant priests and monks, whereby Henry promised to pay, and Fitz-Arthur to receive, one hundred pounds of silver, as the purchase of the ground on which William had, thirty-five years previously, wrongfully founded the abbey of St. Stephen's, to purchase a dispensa- tion from the pope for his marriage with his cousin Matilda of Flanders. The bargain having been struck, and the ])ay. ment of the sixty sliillings earnest-money (for the occupation of the seven feet of earth required as the hist abode of the conqueror of England) being tendered by the prince and received by Fitz-Ai-thur, — strange interlude as it was in a royal funeral, — the obsequies were suffered to proceed. The Saxon chroniclers have taken evident pleasure in enlarging on all the mischances and humiliations which befell the uncon- scious clay of their great national adversary in its passage to ' Speed. * Eiuliiier. MalmcHLury. Ordericus Vitalis. ^ OrdericuH Vitalis. M. Paris. the tomb ncvci yet sovereign, WiJJiai strength, ; has been i bow, and cither arbl \vn» high a could, whei sweetness ii but when i Like Saul, the rest of figiu*e was f The lofti have ascribe by the posi ; by the bisho l)y a strong d he obtained J cover, the bo the tallest nu first buried, which was en The bishoj in such perfei of tlie roval r i i MATILDA OF FLANDEIiS. 103 the tomb; yet, surrly, so lingular a chapter of accidents waH never yet recorded a*» occurred to the corpue of this mighty Bovereign, who died lu the plenitude of hw power. WiUiani of >iormandy was remarkable for Iuh personal strength, and for the majestic beauty of his countenance. It hiiH been said of liini^ that no one but himself could bend hid bow, and that he could, when riding at full speed, discharge cither arbliigt or long-bow with unerring aim.' His forehead was high and bald, his aspect stem and commanding; yet he could, when it pleased him to do so, assume such winning sweetness in his looks and manner aa could scarcely be resisted; but when in anger, no man could meet the terror of his eye.'' Like ShuI, he was, from the slioulders upwards, taller than the rest of his subjects ; before he became too corpulent, liia figiu-e was finely proportioned. The loftiness of stature wliich contemporary ehroniclera have ascribed to WiUiam the Conqueror was fully confirmed //, by the post mortem examination of liis body, which was made by the bishop of Bayeux in the year 1512, when, prompted '' by a strong desue to behold the remains of this great sovereign, / he obtained leave to open his tomb.'' On removing the stone y^ cover, the body, which was corpulent, and exceeding in stature the tallest man then known, appeared as entire as when it was first buried. Within the tomb lay a plate of copper gilt, on which was engraved an inscription in Latin verse.'' The bishop, who was greatly siu^rised at finding the body in such perfect preservation, caused a painting to be executed of the royal remains, in the state in which they then appeared, ' Hubert of Gloucester. W. Malmesbury. - "W. MHlmesbury. •* Ducarcl's Norman Antiquities. * Tlioinnfl, archbishop of York, wiui tlie author of the Latin verse, of which the following lines present a close translation, not unpoetical in its antique simplicity: " He who the sturdy Normans ruled, and over Kngland reigned. And stoutly won and strongly kept what lie had so obtained ; And did the swords of those of Maine by force bring under awe, And made them under his command live subject to his Liw ; This gi'cat king William lietli here entombed hi little gi-ave, — So great a lord so small a house sufficeth him to have. Wlien Phoebus in the Vu-gin's lap his circled course applied. And twenty -three degrees had past, e'en at that time he died." y.p % / a-^'i . \ I' S 1 ! Hi i;| i;i it 1 ! I ! \\ 104 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. by the best artist in Caen, and caused it to be hung up on the abbey wall, opposite to the monument. The tomb was then carefully closed, but in 1562, when the Calvinists under Chastillon took Caen, a party of the rapacious soldiers forced it open, in hope of meeting with a treasure; but finding nothing more than the bones of the Conqueror wrapped in red taffeta, they threw them about the church in great derision. Viscount Falaise, having obtained from the rioters one of the thigh- bones, it was by him deposited in the royal grave. Monsieur le Bras, who saw this bone, testified that it was longer by the breadth of his four fingers than that of the tallest man he had ever seen.' The fanatic spoilers also entered the church of the Holy Trinity, threatening the same violence to the remains of Matilda. The entreaties and tears of the abbess and her nuns had no effect on men, who considered the destruction of church ornaments and monumental sculpture a service to God quite sufficient to atone for the sacrilegious violence of defacing a temple consecrated to his worship, and rifling the sepulchres of the dead. They threw down the monument, and broke the effigies of the queen which lay thereon. On opening the grave in which the royal corpse was deposited, one of the pai-ty observing that there was a gold ring set with a fine sapphire on one of the queen's fingers, took it off, and, with more gallantry than might have been expected from such a person, presented it to the abbess, madame Anna de Montmorenci, who afterwards gave it to her father, the constable of France, when he attended Charles IX. to Caen, in the year 1563.^ In 1642 the monks of St. Stephen collected the bones of their royal patron, William of Normandy, and built a plair. altar-shaped tomb over them, on the spot where the original monument stood in the chancel. The nuns of the Holy Trinity, with equal zeal, caused the broken fragments of ^ The picture of the remtuns, wliich liad been painted by the order of the bishop of Bayeux, fell into the hands of Peter Ildo, the gaoler of Caen, who was one of the spoilers, and he converted one part into a tabic, and the other into a cupboard door ; which proves that this portrait was not painted on canvaj<, but, as usual, on wood. Some years after, these ciirioua relics were discovered and re- claimed by M. le Bras, in whose possession they remained till his death. — T^ncarel's Norman Antiquities. ^ Ducarel. Matilda's over her g black and shape of a ancient tap The resi till nearly republicans of the Ho] against tast royal found] time-honour the first of ^vill require «» '■ ('-/nVv •I •• "■ ■'■,?• '^ ■■3LLM If^ MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 105 Matilcla*s statue and monument to be restored, and placed over her grave, near the middle of the choir, on a tomb of black and white marble, three feet high and six long, in the shape of a coffin, surrounded with iron spikes, and hung with ancient tapestry.* The restored monument of Matilda remained undisturbed till nearly the close of the last century, when the French republicans paid one of their destructive visits to the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen, and, among other outrages against taste and feeling, swept away this memorial of its royal foundress f but while a single arch of that majestic and time-honoured fane, the chiu-ch of the Holy Trinity, survives, the first of our Anglo-Norman queens, Matilda of Flanders, ^vill require no other monument. * Ducarelt ' IVld. 4 -'■ ,t ■ - 1 1 Z 1 : . ■ ■ X\VV M ,1' ^l, 1 ; r M-'H" ."^I'l't hu I :' .. ; ■ r.iVM II ' '!i;; 1 ■' >' . !?(:■■■' eu ■ ;.,;( .. •;•,.,,■ ;'" 'i, vJ-'W t-|fii'> i I ''.c',\'ir,\ ii! 1 ' -'ill ■-■:. of 1 . ■•] A '< •)(! ' lj'>]'l"'''' H :; ,:■, ;; Ui'iO '-■■■ inal I '-..'"'' '' ('• [oly 1 "i. t! i ■ ^ i " \ of H ; -Mi; I the 1 1 WHS ^B 1 , , - -^ ntoa H ' - ■ .1 but, H .'r-..- dre- H 1 .' areVs H !'T.( *.. t ',■ I ! 'if!; ii- J! f I i , i t ■ f I -V - j ! '' ' JL ':' !i 1 1 I I 1 1 1 ' 1 m }..■■ ifr- \ m MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, QUEEN OF HENRY I. CHAPTER I. Ancestry of Matilda — Direct descent from Alfred — Margaret Atheling her mother — Marricn liie king of Scotland — Matilda's birth — Her gotlfiithcr— Education — First suitor — Her father invades England — His death — Her mother's grief — Pious death — Revolution in Scotland — Edgar Atheling carries the royal family to England — Princesses Matilda and Mary — Placed in Eonisey abbey — Their aunt, abbess Christina — Matilda's brother Edgar — Restored to the throne of Scotland — The Atheling a crusader— Matilda at Wilton-abbey— , Her literary education — Attachment between Matilda and Henry Bcauclerc— Her other suitors — Early life of Henry — Education at Cambridge — Surname- Literary work by him — Legacy at the Conqueror's death — Poverty of Henry— Affronted by Matilda's suitor, earl Warren — Courtship of Matilda — Harsli rule of lady Christina — Henry seizes the English throne — Asks Matilda's hand — Opposition of her aunt—Council of the ehm-ch — Matilda's evidence— Her scruples — Importuned by Anglo-Saxons — Consents — Address to her l)y Anselm — Consent of the people — Her mamage and coronation — Saxon laws restored. When we consider the perils to which the representatives of our ancient hne of sovereigns, Edgar Athehng and his sisters, were exposed during the usurpation of Harold and the Noiinaii reigns of terror, it almost appears as if an overruhng Providence liad guarded these descendants of the great Alfred, for the purpose of continuing the hneage of that patriot king on tlie throne of these realms, through the marriage of Henry I. with the daughter of Margaret Atheling, Matilda of Scotland. This princess, the subject of our present biography, is dis- tinguished among the many illustrious females that have Avorn the crown-matrimonial of England by the title of * the good queen ;' a title which, eloquent in its simpUcity, briefly implies ./feiv l>^il^ --Tfc ■^^* to:- it -. iA. R .4<^'' * ■ ^V !^ ?*' .,^-»^ /-^V .^•^^■••^f'*' ..^-^*.-— - >-** .^'' .t*!' -"■7. -l ' M';^^-, ■';■*■ ■ ' i-j: ■ ■' •.. ■ ., ^ '1 ■'''■'.. . '-•■■' .■!! ]-•' , f ■■ ' '■'''■ '. 1l- c • •'•.' ,. .r.-:^'' -'1 V • » " ^ > • ■. * -r' ^.> ft r • JT '. - ' ■.■■ i- 1 1 li. i ill It- i ?ii. ■^VjjiW^^^ I' 1%: P'. 'lA'HIJ'A i)} <('OTL\Ni), CTlAi'TKH. I. I.' \ \ £\ il 'i ^ til'- ,;' V ■' - F'U.'* '''■■''I I I, , -. J "■ ■'.;.■.* ■ ■ ■■■'■ „. . H«r i4 Aff n I» H ■iW. t ..- ( -.vUdkla'.- uirtb - llcv jT'i^'i. . ■'. s ■. •, • "^''.iUja'l - Kik'sir AiIicIm!!.' ■ ■ M i-^i.-ittftii'l Afar, - Pkanl ii; J- «.. :y.'-m„pjr- - Mh< n<^!i fit WiltovA .' ;• i. "i^i-. V. *J.i'ij-'ii»i :!.>vJ ilVnry Bei) , ■ ■?'-««".-liivi^ A-.t'i'imbiidge — St!\ fV - • >»-^-v*n'-:'f'i?-^A.^<*!^ ■Vovorty of »mi a.--0;«»*».bj|i of Matikia W' Vjngmh. V'lni'M — Ask." IM H' tl)( cbtirch- Matilda's evi - ' 'oiii«nt«- Adc'rcesB bi | ima^'o miU coronation^ %r ^r Whi. mo eousufev ifji- jx>nk fo rhich the rcpresentetlM', our J 'irienf rim- of s-jven-ipn^s, {kijunir Atbeling an] Itia i-j^*^! wert i'sjteppjf du'!'ing 'he u.mu^>ation jf HmT-.Iti juidtlie yr- reigr ~ yf tenor; it iiS hjom ajjtxmifi' a5 if 'hi ovcrmlin* Vvo\\ V.f if<.':**j •« e}' t't.mtnHiat'; ri-o !Hiv*»jsr<' ■.{' thut patnot kinj^* r. a tJr»i-a{:rf*> siii' ' 'fK»^e ■^•*iri.i^:, flmvuijcfj n'ie nuuTingc of Henry ! *}ie «kM%'j*r i ^ ! 1 i ! \ i' 1 ■' ' ft ■ ■1 1^ '1 H . i !(■ ] : j .«»•*■ ^-v^"^-". ..,-.,^.V" - -■4 1 "w 1 (T*. Hit. hi ■7 / (■' -?V^^^' ^^d-Uf-^-"^^?: \.•-V^.\ \- . \\C\n-\ .■-■l:-:i;- ''A Hili -v^?, '■ i: li 1! I " I \ I... ■'■',. -'I , 1:1 If . ■■■• 'JiL-i^ ' :-'■ i'AKAi: . I , . * .-■'■V ' " ■ - MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 107 that she possessed not only the great and sliining qualities calculated to add lustre to a throne, but that she employed them in promoting the happiness of all classes of her subjects, affording at the same time a bright example of the lovely and endearing attributes which should adorn the female character. Some historians call this princess MatUda Atheling, and by , these she is almost invested with the dignity of a queen- regnant, as the heiress of the Anglo-Saxon monarchs. In the same spirit, her grandson and representative, Henry II., is > designated ' the restorer of the English royal line.' This is, however, as Blackstone jw:Jy observes, " a great error, for the rights of Margaret AtheJing to the English succession were vested in her sons, and not in her daughter."^ James I., on his accession to the throne of England, failed not to set forth that important leaf in his pedigree, and laid due stress on the circumstance of his descent from the ancient line of EngUsh sovereigns by the elder blood. Alexander, the arch- deacon of Salisbury, (who wrote tl 3 Tracts of the Exchequer, quoted by Gervase of Tilbury in his celebrated Dialogues of the Exchequer,) has gravely set forth, in his red-book, a pedigree of Matilda of Scotland, tracing her descent in an unbroken line up to Adam. There is a strange medley of Christian kings and pagan sinners, such as Woden and Balder, \nth the Jewish patriarchs of holy wltt, in this royal genealogy.^ Matilda is the only princess of Scotland who ever shared / the throne of a king of England. It is, however, from her • maternal ancestry that she derives her great interest as con- nected with the annals of this country. Her mother, Margaret Atheling, was the grand-daughter of Edmund Ironside, and the daughter of Edward Atheling, sumamed the Outlaw, by a German princess, erroneously stated by English historians to have been Agatha, daughter of the emperor Henry II. of Germany.^ Her brother, Edgar Atheling, so often mentioned in the preceding biography, feehng some reason to mistrust tlie apparent friendship of William the Conqueror, privately ' Blackstonc's Commentaries, vol. i. * Lib. Rud. fol. notata 4. ' The most authentic account of the maternal pedigree of Margaret Atheling will be Ibund in Drummon(fl's Noble Families of England and Scotland,-— article, Bruce, I ji: I .1* I \ , :■■ , i 1 ' 108 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. (. '-■ II I 1 1 withdrew from his court, and in the year 1068, (the same year in whirh Henry I. was bom,) took shipping with Margaret, and their younger sister Christina and their mother, intending to seek a refuge in Hungaiy with their royal kindred ; but, by stress of weather, the vessel in which they, with many other EngUsh exiles, were embarked, was driven into the Frith of Forth. Malcolm Canmore, the young immarried king of Scotland, who had just regained his dominions from the usurper Macbeth, happened to be present when the royal fugitives landed, and was so struck with the beauty of the lady Margaret Atheling, that in a few days he asked her in marriage of her brother. Edgar joyfully gave the hand of the dowerless princess to the young and handsome sovereign, who had received the exiled Enghsh in the most generous and honourable manner, and whose disinterested affection was sufficient testi. mony of the nobleness of his disposition. The spot where Margaret first set her foot on the Scottish land was, in memory of that circumstance, called Queen's-Ferry, the name it bears I to this day. The Saxon chronicler, of whom this lady is an especial favourite, indulges in a most edifying homily on the providence which led the holy Margaret to become the spouse of the king of Scotland, who is e\ddently regarded by the cowled historian as little better than a pagan. Certain it is that the mighty son of *the gracious Duncan* could neither read nor write. After her marriage, the Saxon princess became the happy instrument of diflFusing the blessings of Christianity throughout her husband's dominions, commencing the work of conversion in the proper place, — ^her own household and the court. The influence which her personal charms had in the first instance won over the heart of her royal husband, her virtues and mental powers increased and retained to the last hour of Malcolm's existence. He reposed the most unboimded con- fidence, not only in the principles, but the judgment of his English consort, who became the domestic legislator of the realm. She dismissed from the palace all persons who were convicted of leading immoral Uves, or who wer? guilty of fraud or injustice, and allowed no persons to hold offices in the royal MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 109 household unless they conducted themselves in a sober and discreet manner ; observing, moreover, that the Scotch nobles had an irreverent habit of rising from table before grace could be pronounced by her pious ch;»^' in Turgot, she rewarded those of the more civilized chiefs who could be induced to attend the performance of that edifying ceremony, with a cup of the choicest wine. The temptation of such a bribe was too powerful to be resisted by the hitherto perverse and graceless peers, and by degrees the custom became so popular, that every guest was eager to claim his ' grace-cup/ the fashion spread from the palace to the castles of the nobUity, and thence descending to the dwellings of their humbler neigh- bours, became an established usage in the land. Many deeply interesting, as well as amusing particulars, connected with the parents of Matilda of Scotland, the subject of our present memoir, have been preserved by the learned Turgot, the historian of this royal family, who, in his capacity of confessor to queen Margaret, and preceptor to her children,* enjoyed opportunities of becoming acquainted not only with all personal particulars respecting these illustrious individuals, but of learning their most private thoughts and feelings. Turgot gives great commendation to his royal mistress, for the conscientious care she bestowed on the education of her children, whose preceptors she enjoined to punish them as often as their faults required correction. ' Turgot waa a Saxon of good family, horn in Lincolnshire. He was delivered as a hostage to William the Conqueror, and shut up hy him in Lincoln-castle. From thence he escaped to Norway. Returning firom that country, he was ship- wrecked on the English coast, and having lost every tiling he possessed in the world, he became a priest, and distinguished himself so much hy his learning and piety, that he was promoted to be prior of Durham. AVhen Margaret Atheling became queen of Scotland, she preferred him to the office of her confessor. He followed the fortunes of his royal pupil Matilda, the drtughter of his illustrious patroness, after her marriage with Henry I. ; and we find that the English momirch, who possibly wished to remove him from the queen, in 1107 warmly recommended him to his royal brother-in-law, Edgar of Scotland, as a fit person to be appointed to the bishopric of St. Andi-ew's. Tm-got, however, died prior of Durham. He is said to have been the author of the chronicle of Durham which goes by the name of " Simeon of Durham," and has been appropriated by a con- temporary monk of that name. Turgot's Chronicle of the lives of his royal mistress i>I rgaret Atheling, and her consort Malcolm Canmore, king of Scot- land, has been preserved by Fordun, and is frequently cited by sir David Dalryraple. — ^Nicholson. Henry. . ! 1 A ; i !!■ i 1 r ! !!•? MM; •■ '[ i' ') nv ! r* il 110 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. l::i f. I 'f ,< Matilda, the subject of this memoir, was her eldest daughter, and was probably bora in the year 1079. This we infer from the remarkable circumstance, of the elder brother of her future husband, Robert Courthose, being her godfather.' Malcolm Canmore, her father, invaded England in that year, and Robert of Normandy was, on liis reconciliation with his father, WiUiam the Conqueror, sent with a military force to repel this northern attack. Robert, finding his forces inade- quate to maintain successfully a war of aggression, entered into a negotiation with the Scottish monarch, which ended in a friendly treaty. Malcolm renewed his homage for Cum- berland ; and Robert, who, whatever his faults might be as a private character, was one of the most courteous knights and pohshed gentlemen of the age in which he hved, finally cemented the auspicious amity which he had estabhshed between his royal sire and the warlike husband of the heiress presumptive of the Saxon line of kings, by becoming the sponsor of the infant princess Matilda. Some historians assert that the name of the little princess was originaEy Editha, and that it M'as, out of compliment to the Norman prince her god- father, changed to Matilda, tiie name of his beloved mother ; the contemporary chronicler, Ordericus Vitalis, says, Matildem, qm prius dicta est Editha : ' Matilda, whose first name was Edith." Matilda the Good received her earliest lessons of virtue and piety from her illustrious mother, and of learning from the worthy Turgot, the preceptor of the royal children of Scot- land. While Matilda was very young, there appears to have been an attempt on the part, either of the queen her mother, or her aunt Christina Atheling, the celebrated abbess of Romsey, to consecrate her to the church, or at least to gire her tender mind a conventual bias, greatly to the displeasure of the king her father ; who once, as Matilda herself testified, when she was brought into his presence dressed in a nun's veil, snatched it from her head in a great passion, and indig- nantly tore it in pieces, observing at the same time to Alan duke of Bretagne, who stood by, " that be intended to bestow P , /.- * Sir J. Hayward. William of Malmesbury. ^ See Dr. Liugard's learned note, p. 126, vol. ii. ed. 4. ' Eadmer. ^Broj MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. Ill her ill marriage, and not to devote her to a cloister."' Tliia circumstance, young as she was, appears to have made a very deep impression on the mind of the little princess, and pro- bably assisted in strengthening her determination, in after years, never to complete the profession of which she was, at one period of her life, compelled to assume the semblance. Alan duke of Bretagne, to whom king Malcolm addressed this observation, was the widower of William the Conqueror's daughter Constance j and though there was a great disparity of years between him and Matilda, it appears certain that the object of his visit to the Scottish court was to obtain her for his second wife ;" and that wrs one of the unsuitable matches to which we shall find that Matilda afterwards alluded. Matilda's imcle, Edgar Atheling, became resident at the court of her father and mother for some time, in the year 1091 J and it is a remarkable fact, that William Rufus and Malcolm joined in appointing him as arbiter of peace between England and Scotland, which were then engaged in a furious and devastating war.* Thus placed in the most singular and romantic position that ever was sustained by a disinherited heir, Edgar conducted himself with such zeal and impartiality aa to give satisfaction to both parties, and a pacification was concluded, which aflPorded a breathing time of two years to the harassed people of this island. After a reconciliation with William Rufus, which was never afterwards broken by the most trying circumstances, Edgar returned to the court of his favourite friend and companion, Robert of Normandy. The dangerous illness of William Rufus, at Gloucester, tempted king Malcolm Canmore to invade his dominions, in the year 1093, for the purpose, as he said, of revenging the insults he had received from the Anglo-Norman sovereign ; his real object was, probably, to take advantage of Rikfus's unpopularity with all classes, and to assert the rival title of the descendants of the great Alfred, with whom he was now so closely united. According to Hector Boethius and Buchanan, Malcolm was killed at the siege of Alnwick-castle, by the treachery of the ' Eadmer. i .v. ' .. ',■ ' Eadmer. Geirir 3 Brorapton. Hoveden. Y-Podigma of Neustria. i t Ji ■ [ • p I isiii .1 F ^ ll" *!' Ik i ■■! li';.:' ' ; • > m^ ' 1 u i; ■■ r . ' ■K : 1 ■ i .+1 ■r 1 \ ' t '' M I ] , J. : f ijjp m lil' ■ ■■; m ill iAi^Jm. . r ! 112 MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. besipged, who, being reduced to the last extremity, offered to surrender, if the Seottiwh king would receive the keys in person. Malcolm of course acceded to tliis condition,' and coming to the gates, wjis there met by a knight bearing the keys on the point of a lance, which he otfered to the king on his knee ; but when Malcolm stooped to receive them, he treacherously tlirust the point of the lance through the bars of his vizor into his eye, and gave him a mortal wound. This was heavy news to poiu" into the anxious ear of tho widowed queen, who then lay on her death-bed, attended by her daughters Matilda and Mary. The particulars of this sad scene are thus related by an eye-witness, the faithful Tiu-got. During a short interval of ease, queen Margaret devoutly re- ceived the communion. Soon tifter, her anguish of body retiuned with redoubled violence ; she stretched herself on the couch, and calmly awaited the moment of her dissolution. Cold, and in the agonies of death, she ceased not to put up her supplications to Heaven in the touching words of tlie Miserere : " Have mercy upon me, O God, according to the multitude of thy tender mercies ; blot out mine iniquities ; make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones wliich tliou hast broken may rejoice. Cjist me not away from thy pre. sence, and take not thy holy Spirit from me ; restore unto me the joy of thy salvation. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; it broken and a contrite heart, O God, tliou wilt not despise."' At that moment her young son, prince Edgar, returned from the disastrous English expedition, and approached her couch. "How fares it with the king and my Edward?" asked the dying queen. The youthful prince stood mourn. fuUy silent. " I know all — I know all," cried his mother; " yet, by this holy cross I adjure you speak out the worst." As she spoke she presented to the view of her son that cele- brated * bhick cross ' which she had brought with her from England, as the most precious possession she derived from her royal Saxon ancestors/ ' Miilmt'sbury. ' Turgot. 3 Camithcrs' History of Scotlaiwl, vol. i. pp. 312-353. The English vicwtJ the possession of tliis jewel by the roy hI fiimily of Scotland with great displeasure; Y'\CWtving enlightened passage, from tho pen of an ecclesiastic of the eleventh ccntmy : — " Others," says Turgot, " may admire the indications of sanctity which miracles afford. 1 much more admire in Margaret the works of mercy. Such signs (namely, miracles) arc common to the evil and the good; but the works of true piety and charity are peculiar to the good. With better reason, therefore, ought we to admire the deeds of Margaret, which made her saintly, than her miracles, had she performed any." To this great and good man did tlie dying Margaret consign the spiritual guardianship her two young daughters, the princesses Matilda and Mary', and her younger sons. Turgot has preserved the words with which she gave him tliis im- portant charge ; they will strike an answering chord on the heart of every mother. "Farewell!" she said; "my life draws to a close, but you may survive me long. To you 1 commit the charge of my children. Teach them, above all things, to love and fear (Jod; and if any of them should be permitted to it was enclosed in a black case, from wlience it was called the Mack t^rosa. The cross itself was of g( )ld, aiid set with large diamonds. The figure of the Saviom* was exquisitely carvid in ivory. After the death of Margaret it was deposited on the high altar of Dunfermline. Wlien Edward I. kept court there, he seized on tiiis cross as one of the English crown-jewels, and carried it mto England. Rok'rt Bruce so vehemently insisted on its restoration, that queen Isabella yli'Uled it on the pacification during her regency in 1327; but its surrender cxusiKTiited the Ei\glish more than the most flagrant of her misdeeds. — See her biography. VOL. I. I • ■ illii li i I ■ I 1 ' 1 \ I. • t I I I! M I I u,. %'.,■'■ t 1 ? ;i^' r-:i 114 m MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. attain to the height of earthly grandeur, oh ! then, in an especial manner, be to them a father and a guide. Admonish, and if need be, reprove them, lest they should be swelled with the pride of momentary glory, and through covetousness, or by reason of the prosperity of this world, oflfend their Creator, and forfeit eternal life. This, in the presence of Him who is now our only witness, I beseech you to promise and perform."' Adversity was soon to try these youthful scions of royalty with her touchstone; and of the princess Matilda, as well as her saintly mother, it may justly be said, — " Stem, rugged nurse, thy ri^d lore With patience many a year she bore." Donald Bane, (the brother of Malcohn Canmore,) soon after the disastrous defeat and death of Matilda's father and eldest brother, seized the throne of Scotland, and commanded all the Enghsh exiles, of whatsoever degree, to quit the kingdom, under pain of death.^ Edgar Atheling, Matilda's uncle, then conveyed to England the orphan family of his sister, the queen of Scotland, consisting of five young princes, and two princesses.^ He supported Matilda, her sister and brothers, who were all minors, privately, from his own means. They were in con- siderable personal danger, from the accusation of one of the knights at the EngUsh court, who told "William Rufus that * Queen Margaret was buried at Dunfermline. Her body was disinterred at the Reformation, and the head is now preserved in a silver case at Douay, where the historian Carruthers declares he saw it, at the Scotch college. It was in extraordinary preservation, with a quantity of fine hair, fair in colour, still upon it. This was in 1785. — History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 813. ^ Carruthers' History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 316. ^ Hardyng, in his rhyming Chronicle, thus quaintly enumerates the posterity of Margaret Atheling, (see sir Henry Ellis's edition) : — " Edward, Dunkan, Edgar, Alixander the guy. And David also, (that kings were all they say, Eache after other of Scotlande throughout,) > Whose mother is now St. Margretc without doubt. At Dunfermlyn shrined and canonized ; By whom Malcolyn a daughter had also, Kuig Henry's wife the first, full well aviHcd Qneen Mnude, that's right well loved England through. Those crosses fair and royal, as men go Through all England, she made at her expense. And divers good orders through her providence." i i MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. 115 the Saxon prince had brought into England, and was raising up, a family of competitors for the English crown. A friend of Edgar, named Godwin, challenged and slew the calumniator; and William Rufus, supposing Providence had decided in favour of the innocent, treated Edgar and his Jidopted family with kindness and fnendship. The princess Matilda and Marj'^ were placed by their uncle in the nunnery of Romsey, of which his surviving sister, Christina, was abbess; for the princes lie obtained an honourable reception at the court of William Rufus, who eventually sent him at the head of an army to Scotland, with which the Atheling succeeded in reestablishing the yoimg king Edgar, eldest brother of Matilda, on the throne of his ancestors. Ordericus Vitalis confirms, in a great measure, the state- ments of Turgot ; and, after relating the death of queen Mar- garet, adds, " She had sent her t^vo daughters, Edith (Matilda) and Mary, to Christina her sister, who was a religieuse of the abbey of Romsey, to be instructed by her in holy writ. These princesses Avere a long time pupils among the nuns. They were instructed by them, not only in the art of reading, but in the observance of good manners; and these devoted maidens, as they approached the age of womanhood, waited for the con- solation of God. As Ave have said, they were orphans, deprived of both their parents, separated from their brothers, and far from the protecting care of kindred or friends. They had no home or hope but +he cloister, and yet, by the mercy of God, they were not professed as nuns. They were destined by the Disposer of all earthly events for better things." Camden proves that the abbey ot Wilton, ever since the profession of the royal saint Editha,* was the place of nurture and education for the princesses of the Anglo-Saxon reigning family. This abbey of black Benedictine nuns was founded bv king Alfred, and since his days it had been usual to elect a superior of his lineage. Wilton-abbey had been refounded by the queen Editha, consort to Edward the Confessor.* While that monarch was Building Westminster-abbey, his ' Daughter of Edgar the Peaceable. ^ Camden. I 2 ' ; 'I' m f > I I ' fe 5 1*;; :! 116 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. fi ' i i!.^.^/ queen employed her revenues in changing the nunnery of Wilton from a wooden edifice into one of stone. The abbey of Romsey was Ukewise a royal foundation^ generally governed by an abbess of the blood-royal. Chris- tina is first mentioned as abbess of Romsey in Hampshire, and afterwards as superior of the Wilton convent. As both be- - longed to the order of black Benedictines, this transfer was not difficult; but chroniclers do not mention when it was efiected, simply stating the fact that the Scottish princess first dwelt at Romsey, yet when she grew up she was resident at Wilton-abbey, under the superintendence of the abbess Christina her aunt. Matilda thus became an inhabi- tant of the same abode where the royal virgins of her race had always received their education.* It was the express desire of the queen, her mother, who survived that request but a few hours, that she should be placed under the care of the lady Christina at Romsey. While in these Englisli convents, the royal maid was com- pelled to assume the thick black veil of a votaress,' as a protection from the insults of the lawless Nonnan nobles. The abbess Christina, her aunt, who was exceedingly desirous of seeing her beautiful niece become a nun professed, treated her very harshly if she removed this cumbrous and incon- venient envelope, which was composed of coarse black cloth or serge ; some say it was a tissue of horse-hair. The impo- sition of this veil was considered by Matilda as an intolerable grievance. She wore it,* as she herself acknowledged, with sighs and tears in the presence of her stem aunt ; and the moment she found herself alone, she flung it on the ground, and stamped it under her feet. During the seven years that Matilda resided in this dreary asylum, she was carefully instructed in all the learning of the age. Ordericus Vitahs says she was taught the " literatoriam arteni' of which sue afterwards became, like her predecessor, Matilda of Flanders, a most munificent patroness. She was also greatly skilled in music, for which her love amounted almost to a passion. Wlien queen, we shall find her sometimes censured for the • Ordericus Vitalis. ' Eadmer. ' Ibid. ! « MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 117 too great liberality she showed in rewarding, with costly pre- sents, the monks who sang skilfully in the church service.' The superior education which this illustrious princess r V gived during these years of conventual seclusion, eminently fitted her to become the consort of so accompUshed a prince as Henry le Beauclerc. Robert of Gloucester, and Piers of Langtoft, and, above aU, Eadmer, a contemporary, assert that the royal pair had been lovers before circumstances admitted of their union. These are the words of old quaint Robin on the subject : — " Special love there had ere been, as I understand, Between him and the king's fair daughter, Maud of Scotland. So that he willed her to wife, and the bishops also. And the high men of the land radde^ him thereto." Matilda received two proposals of marriage while she was in the nunnery at Romsey ; one from Alan duke of Bretagne, the mature suitor before mentioned, who demanded her in marriage of his brother-in-law, William Rufus, and obtained liis conse. lit he was prevented by death JS'om fulfilling his enga^L..i.;ut. Had it been otherwise, Matilda's only refiige from this ill-assorted union would have been the iiTevocable assumption of the black veil, of which she had testified such unqualified abhorrence. The other candidate for the hand of the exiled princess, was the yomig and hand- some William Wai'ren, earl of Surrey, the son of the Con- queror's youngest daughter Gundred, the favourite nephew of WiUiam Rufus, and one of the richest and most powerful of the bai'onage of England and Normandy. The profession of Matilda was delayed for a time by the addresses of these princes.^ "But," continues the chronicler, "she was, by the grace of God, reserved for a higher destiny, and through his permission contracted a more illustrious maniage."^ It is remarkable, that of the three lovers by whom MatUda was sought in marriage, one should have been the son-in-law, another the grandson, and the third the son, of that Norman conqueror who had established a rival dynasty on the throne of her ancestors. ' Tyrrell. * Sadde, advised. ^ Ordericus Vitalis. ■* Ibid. If,-- i, I: i * -J ii : i i ^': ! t 1 ; .1- ! i ■ h 1 ', 1 ^■' i'£ 1 i|. ' h 1 f 1- »■ { ' ' ■ 1 \r i 'y 2 ii \^^^- 1 ! i ! 118 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. Matilda pleaded devotion to a religious life, as au excuse for declining the addresses of Warren. It seems strange that she should have preferred a lengthened sojouni in a gloomy cloister, to a union with a young, handrome, and wealthy prince of the reigning family of England, unless her refusal of Warren v ay be regarded as a confirmation of the stat* uents of Eadn.3r, Robert of Gloucester, WiUiara of Malmesbury, and ethers of the ancient chroniclers, as to ' the special love' that existed between Henry Beauclerc and Matilda, during the season of their mutual adversity. The nimnery of Wilton was not far from Winchester, the principal seat of the Norman sovereign ; and when we reflect on the great iuti- macy which subsisted bcitween Matilda's uncle, Edgar Atheling, and the sons of the Conqueror, it appears by no means impro. bable that prince Henry might have accompanied him in some of his visits to his royal kinswomen, and perhaps beeu admitted, under the sanction of his presence, to converse Mitli the princesses, and even to have enjoyed the opportunity of seeing MatUda without her veil ; which, we learn from her own confession, she took every opportunity of throwing aside, Nor was this to be wondered at, since, if we may credit the testimony of contemporary writers, her face was well worth the looking upon. The learned Hildebert,^ her friend and correspondent, has celebrated her personal charms in the eloquent Latin poems which he addressed to her, both before and after her marriage. The Norman olironicle declares that she was a lady of great beauty, and much beloved by king Henry ; and Matthew Paris says she was " very fair, and elegant in person, as well as learned, holy, and wise." These qualities, combined with her high lineage, rendered her, doubt- less, an object of attraction to the Norman princes. Henry Beauclerc was ten years the senior of his nephew Warren ; but his high mental acquirements and accomphsn- ments were, to a mind like that of Matilda, of Scotland, far beyond the meretricious advantages which liis more youthftil rival could boast. Robert of Gloucester, in his rhyming * iVfterwtirds archbishop of Mana. — See Hildeberti Opera. Chronicle, and c" -r-^. 'In In H{ Of Fo: An Oni An( •N( Tha Hia In< Tall Fair MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 119 Chronicle, gives this quaint summary of the birth, education, and c -r-'/'teristics of Henry : — '■ In England waa he bom, Henri, this nobleman. In the third year that his father England wan ; He was, of all his sons, best fitted king to be. Of fairest form and manners, and most gentle and free ; For that he was the youngest, to book his father him drew. And he became as it befel a good clerk enow. One time when he was yomig, his brother smote him, I wis. And he wept while his father stood by and beheld all this ; • Ne weei) now,' he said, ' loving son, for it shall come to be. That thou shalt yet be king, and that thou shalt see.' His father made him, at Westminster, knight of his own hand, In the nineteenth year of his age, &c. &c. Taller he was some deal than his brethren were. Fair man and stout enow, with brown hair." Henry was regarded by the people of the land with a greater degree of complacency than the elder sons of the Conqueror, from the circumstance of his being an English- bom prince. While yet a tender infant, his mighty sire named him as a witness (the only male witness) of the fol- lowing curious charter to one of his followers, the founder of the famdy of Hunter of Hopton : — "I, William the king, the third year of my reign. Give to thee, Norman Hunter, to me that art both liefe' and dear, The Hop and the Hopton, and all the bounds up and down. Under the earth to hell, above the earth to heaven, III''' From me and muie to thee and thine, ' ' As good and as fair as ever they mine were. , „ To witnesso that tliis is sooth, I bite the white waxe with my tooth, Bp^'ire Jugge,* Maude, and Margery, H .' . And my young soime Henry, For a bowe and a broad arrowe. When I sail come to hunt on Yarrowe."' The rhymes of this quaint feudal grant are undoubtedly far more agreenble to the ear than the halting heroics of honest Robert of Gloucester, previously quoted, though compounded more than a century before his jingling chronicle was written. Several of the charters of William the Conqueror are in this form, and with the names of the same members of his family. It is probable that they were executed in the presence of his * lAefe, loving. Pronoimced Juey, which rhymes to Margery ; the rhymes, it will be observed. 111:,!' h \ It;' II ! i ! r M recur in the middle of the line. ' Stowe. ! i I! p; u\ 120 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ' I queen " Maud;" " Jugge " (sometimes used as an abbreviation for Judith) must have been h niece Judith, afterwards the wife of Waltheof ; and Margery, a daughter, who is sometimes enumerated in his family by the chi'oniclers ; and to these the name of that notable witness, the baby Henry, was doubtless added as a joke by the royal sire. Biting the white wax was supposed to give particidar authenticity to conveyances from the crown, which formerly were each duly furnished with a proof impression of that primitive substitute for the gi'eat seal of England the royal eye-tooth, sometimes familiarly specified by the monarch aa his ' fang-tooth/ This custom, which took its rise from very remote antiquity, was needlessly adopted by tho Anglo-Norman Hue of sovereigns, whose broad seals are of peculiarly fine workmanship, bearing their veritable effigies, crowned, sceptred, and in royal robes, seated on the king's stone bench ; and on the reverse of the seal the same monarch is figured, armed cap-k-pie, and mounted on a war- charger, gallantly appointed.* Such are the impressions affixed to all their charters. It is among the boasts of Cambridge'' that Henry, so cele- brated for his learning, received his education there. The ancient annals of St. Austin's, Canterbury, however, affirm " that he was instructed in philosophy beyond seas, where, for his knowledge in the liberal sciences, he was by the French sumamed Beauclerc."' ' ■ > ' * ' The following dialogue took place between Henry and his royal sire, when the latter lay on his death-bed at Heimentrude/ and was concluding his elaborate confession of his past deeds of oppression and cruelty with the verbal bequest of his dominions to his two eldest sons. " And what do you give to me, father?" interrupted Henry, who stood weeping at the bedside, less touched, we fear, at the awftJ list of sins ard wickednesses of which his dying sire had just disburthened ' Speed. ^ J. Caiiu Contabrig. ^ St. Austin's Lib. MSS. A learned writer in the Archax)lo I ! [ h I i ! n I. ii ■ J M fe I I H r ? V \\ \-i \\ n i ■.' \ Mi t 124 ^fATILDA OF SCOTLAND. m\-l ir: ,i' ? the weird woman's prediction lind startled liim, the cries of the ' red king's ' attendants proclaimed the fatal accident that had befallen their royal master, and the hasty flight of tlic unlucky marksman by whose erring shaft he had died. Prince Henry acted as Rufus doubtless would have done in his case ; he sprang to his saddle, and made the best of his way to Winchester, witliout bestowing a moment's care or attention on the body of his deceased brother, which was irreverently tlirown into the cart of one Purkiss, a Saxon eharcoal-bunicr, that was passing through the forest, and, on no gentler bier, was ignobly borne back to the city which he had quitted that morning with such proud [tarade.' Robert of Gloucester relates this circumstance, with his usual quaint minuteness; and among a number of his lame and tame lines, the following graphic couplet occurs, which we think ovu* readei*s will con- sider worthy of quotation : — " To Winchester they liiire him, all midst his preen wound, And ever as he lay, the blood well'd to ground." William Breteuil,'' the royal treasurer, was also at this memomble hunting party, and with him prince Henry actually rode a race to Winchester, — ay, and won it too ; for when Breteuil arrived at the door of the treasury, he found prince Henr}' standing before it, who greeted him with a demand of the keys. Breteuil boldly declared, " That both treasure and crown belonged to the prince's eldest brother, duke Robert of Normandy, who Avas then absent in the Holy Land, and for that prince he would keep the treasiu*es of the late king his master." Then Henry drew his sword, and, backed by his powerftil friend Henry Bellomonte, afterwards earl of Leicester, and other nobles of his party, forced the keys from his kmsman Breteuil, and took possession of the treasure and regalia. Breteuil loudly protested against the wrong that was done to duke Robert. Some of the nobles who possessed large estates in Nor- ' Saxon Chron. The lineal descendants of the said chiu-coal-maker, by naiiio Purkiss, still live within the distance of a bow-shot from the sj. t where Rufus fell, and continue to exercise the trade of their ancestor. — Milner's Winchester. * William Breteuil was the son of the Conqueror's great friend and counsellor, Fitz-0«born, surnamed ' the Proiul Spirit.* — See the precetling biography. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 125 mandy sided with Bretcuil, in advocating the rights of the royal crusader; and the debate growing very stormy, it was cousidered more expedient to argue the momentous question ill the council-chamber. Thither the nobles and prelates adjourned; but while they were engaged in advocating, according as interest or passion swayed, the rival clahns of Robert and Henry to the vacant tlirone, the majority being inclined for the elder brother, (the brave but proverbially unready Robert,) Henry had successfully pleaded his own cause to the populace in the streets of Winchester ; and they, strong in numbers, and animated with sudden affection for the English-born prince, who had promised to bestow upon them English laws and an English queen, gathered round the palace, and quickened the decision of the divided peers in council by making the name of Henry resound in their ears ; and Henry, thus elected by the voice of the people, was immediately proclaimed king at Winchester. The remains of the luckless Rufus were hurried into the grave, with a sort of hunter's mass, the following morning at an early hour, in Winchester cathedral ; ' and Henry hastened to London, where, on Sunday, the noiies of August, the fourth day after liis brother's death, he was crowned in Westminster-abbey, by Maui'ice, bishop of London. Before the regal circlet was placed on his brow, " Henry, at the high altar at West- minster, promised to God and the people," says the Saxon Chronicle, " to annul the unrighteous acts that took place in Ills brother's reign, and he was crowned on that condition.'" Hemy promised every thing that could reasonably be de- manded of him, and set about reforming the abuses and cor ruptions that had prevailed during the licentious reign of the bachelor king, and completely secured his popularity with the English pGople by declaring his resolution of wedding a prin- cess of the blood of Alfred, who had been brought up and educated among them. Accordingly he demanded Matilda, • The monnuient that Henry L raised for his brother Rufiis, before the high altar at Winchester, is still to be seen there ; he put himself to no great cost for funeral exi»nses, for it is a plain gravestone of bkck marble, of that shape called dos d'dne, to be seen, of brick or freestone, iu country churchyartls. * Saxon Clironicle. 111! II . Ml!|i I i •!, Mr M n \: i 'H ! l- 1 ■i l]:i( ' 1 i 1 ■ \ . . h , :■ -\ ■ ' ! k' *' ■ M >f. 1 'i 1 f ! h • 126 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. hi I the daughter of Malcolm king of Scotland, and Margaret Atheling, of her })rother, Edgar king of Scotland. The pro. posal was exceedingly agreeable to the Scottish monarch, but great difficulties were opposed to the completion of this mar- riage by those who were of opinion that she had embraced a religious life.' The abbess Christina, ^Matilda's aunt, in par- ticular, whose Saxon prejudices coul not brook tho idea tliat the throne of the Norman line of sovereigns should be strengthened by an alliance with the royal blood of Alfred, protested, "that her niece was a veiled nun, and that it would be an act of sacrilege to remove her from her convent." Henry's heart was set upon the marriage, but he would not venture to outrage popular opinion by wedding a conse- crated nun. In this dilemma, he wrote a pressing letter to the learned Anselm, archbishop of Canterbuiy, who had becu unjustly despoiled of his revenues by William Rufiis, and was then in exile at Lyons, entreating him to return, and render him his advice and assistance in tliis afl'air. When AiiBelm heard the particulars of the case, he declared that it was too mighty for his single decision, and therefore summoned a council of the church at Lambeth, for the purpose of entering more fully into this important question." Matilda made her appearance before the synod, and was closely interrogfited bv the primate Anselm, in the presence of the whole hierardiy of England, as to the reality of her alleged devotion to a religious life.^ The particulars of her examination have been pre- served by Eadmer, who, as the secretary of the archbishop Anselm, was doubtless an eye-witness of tliis interesting scene, and, in all probability, recorded the very words uttered by the princess. The archbishop commenced by stating the objections to her marriage, grounded on the prevailing report that she had embraced a religious life, and declared, " that no motive ' Eadmer. ' Not long after the return of archbishop Anselm to England, the king, by the advice of liis friends, resolved to leave off his mistresses, and marry ; niul he, having a very great affection for Matilda, daughter to Malcolm, late king of Scotland, resolved, if it might he lawiiil, to marry her. — TyrrelL ^ Eadmer. Malmeshury. whatever ' hiwi alread denied tluil She was m by her ow replied, " > of her havii court, and Wilton. " veil in my Christina pu ray futJier sc and execrate wards made unsuitable n father tore tl Mm earl of to give me in She also adm neiy of Roms the Norman J badge of con through the \\ tina. "If I "she would preaches. Sif but as soon as] utf) and tramp j This explaJ tlie council at 1 (laughter of mJ ^ad not embraJ the vow of herl mai-riage with „ (leelaration, tho) reason which til tJon of tlie blaj i* MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 127 whatever would induce him to di^peu^o with her vow, if it had already been given to Ahnighty God." Tlie princess (leiiied that there had been any sucli engagement on her part. She was uaked, " If she had embraced a religious hfe, either bv her own choice or the vow of lier parents ;" and slio replied, " Neither." Then she was examined lus to the fact of her having worn the black veil of a votaress in her father^a court, and subsequently in the nunneries of Romsey and Wilton. " I do not deny," said Matilda, " having worn the veil in my father^s court, for when I was a child, my aunt Christina put a piece of black cloth over my head ; but when ray father saw me with it, he snatched it off in a great rage, and execrated the person who had put it on me. I after- wards made a pretence of wearing it, to excuse myself from unsuitable marriages; and on one of these occasions, my father tore the veil and tlu-cw it on the ground, observing to Alan earl of Bretagne, who stood by, that it was his mtention to give me in marriage, not to devote me to the church." She also admitted that she had assumed the veil in the nun- nery of Romsey, as a protection from the lawless violence of the Norman nobles, and that she had continued to wear that badge of conventual devotion, against her own inclination, through the harsh compulsion of her aunt, the abbess Chris- tina. "If I attempted to remove it," continued Matilda, "she would torment mc with harsh blows and sharp re- proaches. Sighing and trembhng, I wore it in her presence ; but as soon as I withdrew from her sight, I always threw it oft^ and trampled upon it." " Tliis explanation was considered perfectly satisfactory by the council at Lambeth, and they pronoimced that " Matilda, daughter of Malcolm king of Scotland, had proved that she had not embraced a religious life, either by her o^vn choice or the vow of her parents, and she was therefore free to contract maiTiage with the king." The council, in addition to this declaration, thought proper to make public the most cogent resujon which the Scottish princess had given for her assump- tion of the black veil on her coming to England ; which was " Eadmcr. » Ibid. i i 1 I , ■M i! i'd f 4 -UU^y \ n ytmi ! '■! ^ 128 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ^i i '>' done in the following remai'kable words : " When the great king William conquered this land, many of his followers, elated by so great a victory, and thinking that every thing ought to be subservient to their will and pleasure, not only seized the provisions of the conquered, but invaded the honour of their matrons and vugins whenever they had an oppor- tunity. This obhged many young ladies, who dreaded their violence, to put on the veil to preserve their honour."' According to the Saxon chroniclers, Matilda, notwithstand- ing her repugnance to the consecrated veil, exhibited a very maidenly reluctiuice to enter the holy pale of matrimony with a royal husband. It is possible that the report of the immoral tenour of Henry's life before he ascended the tin-one, which was evidenced by his acknowledging the claims of twenty illegitimate children, might be regarded by a princess of her purity of mind and manners as a very serious objection ; and if, as many of the early chroniclers intimate, there had been a previous engagement between Henry and herself, she of course felt both displeasure and disgust at his amours with the beautiful Nesta, daughter of the prince of Wales, and other ladies too numerous to particularize. It is certain that after the council at Lambeth had pronounced her free to marry, Matilda resisted for a time the entreaties of the king, and the commands of her i-oyal brother and sovereign, to accept the brilliant destiny which she was offered. All who were connected with the Saxon royal line impor- tuned Matilda, meantime, with such words as these: " O most noble and most gracious of women ! if thou wouldst, thou couldst raise up the ancient honoiu" of England; thou wouldst be a sign of alliance, a pledge of reconcihation. But if thou per- sistest in thy refusal, the enmity between the Saxon and Nor- man races will be eternal; human blood will never cease to flow."^ Thus urged, the royal recluse ceased to object to a man-iagc, whereby she was to become the bond of peace to a divided nation, and the dove of the newly-sealed covenant between the Norman sovereign and her own people. Henry promised to confirm to the English nation their ancient laws ' Enduiur. ' ^axon Chronicle. ( prodigious cou( VOL. I. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 129 and privileges, as established by Alfifed, and ratified by Edward the Confessor, — ^in short, to become a constitutional mouarch ; and on those conditions the daughter of the royal line of Alfred consented to share his throne. Matthew Paris says positively that Matilda was a professed nun, and so averse to this marriage, that she invoked a curse upon all the descendants that might proceed from her union with the Norman king. But this is contradicted by all other historians; and if any foundation existed for the story, we thiuk friend Matthew must, by a strange shp of the pen, have written down the name of the meek and saintly IMatilda instead of that of the perverse virago the abbess Christina, her aunt, who was so greatly opposed to those auspicious nuptials, and, for aught we know, might have been as much addicted to the evil habit of imprecation as she was to scolding and fighting. Matilda's demurs, after all, occasioned little delay, for the archbishop Anselm did not return to England till October; the council at Lambeth was held in the latter end of that month, and her marriage and coronation took place on Sunday, November 11th, being St. Martin's-day, just three months and six days after the inauguration of her royal lord at West- minster, August 5th, 1100, — which we may considei quick work, for the dispatch of such important business and solcnni ceremonials of state. William of Malmesbury tells us that Henry's friends, especially bishops, having counselled him to reform his life and contract lawful wedlock, he married, on St. Martin's-day, Matilda, daughter of Malcolm king of Scot- land, to whom he had long been greatly attached, not regard- ing the marriage-portion, provided he cquid possess her whom he liad so ardently desired; for though she was of noble descent, being great niece of king Edward by his brother Edmund, yet she possessed little fortune, being doubly an orphan. This is surely a convincing testimony of the strength of Henry's afiection for Matilda. The scene of their marriage is thus described by a contem- porary, who was most probably an eye-witness : " At the wedding of Matilda and Henry the First,' there was a most prodigious concourse of nobility and people assembled in and VOL. I. K '■\i HI S i I i i- i t ^m \ :il 130 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. about the church at Westminster, when, to prevent all calumny and ill report that the king was about to marry a mm, the archbishop Anselm mounted into a pulpit, and gave the multi- tude a history of the events proved before the synod, and its judgment, — that the lady Matilda of Scotland was free from any rehgious vow, and might dispose of herself in marriage as she thought fit. The archbishop finished by asking the people in a loud voice, whether any one there objected to this decision.- upon which they answered unanimously, with a loud shout, * that the matter was rightly settled/ Accordingly the lady was immediately married to the king, and crowned before that vast assembly."' A more simple yet majestic appeal to the sense of the people, in regard to a royal marriage, history records not. An exquisitely beautiftd epithalamium, in honour of these auspicious nuptials, was written by Matilda's friend Hildebert, in elegant Latin verse, wherein he congratulates both England and Henry on the possession of the doubly royal bride Matilda. He eulogizes her virtues, and describes her modest and maidenly deportment as enhancing her youthful charms when, with blushes that outvied the crimson of her royal robe, she stood at the altar, invested with her royal insignia, a virgin queen and bride, in whom the hopes of England hailed the fixture mother of a mighty line of kings.- To this auspicious union of the Anglo-Norman sovereign Henry I. with Matilda of Scotland, a princess of Englisli lineage, English education, and an English heart, we may trace all the constitutional blessings which this free country at present enjoys. It was through the influence of this ^^r. tuous queen that Henry granted the important charter wliich formed thi model and precedent of that great palladium of English liberty, Magna Charta ; and we call upon our readers to observe, that it was the direct ancestress of our present sovereign-lady who refused to quit her gloomy conventual prison, and to give her hand to the handsomest and most accomplished sovereign of his time, till she had obtained just and merciful laws for her suflfering country, the repeal of the ' Eadmer. ' Opera Hildeberti, p. 1367. tyrannies a recogni When took plac Jaws of A committee monasteri( the reign ( of the peoj exhibited 1 fact, the si It is suppos all the copi( which, in t infringe wh( Hardyng relates the Matilda of S "I \ ft f. Jf,.,4 J A o Oi If Ej D< .'/^ ,-r /ii'' - '!.' Ad ■'' '\i' ■; > Th >■•; ■. :.■;!„ J-y Clo Ani Wl Th( ' ' 1 . In ^^SfPf MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 131 tyrannical imposition of the curfew, and, in some slight degree, a recognition of tba rights of the commons. When the marriage of Matilda of Scotland with Henry I. took place, a hundred copies of this digest of the righteous laws of Alfred and Edward the Confessor were made, and committed to the keeping of the principal bishoprics and monasteries in England ; but when these were sought for, in the reign of John, to form a legal authority for the demands of the people, Rapin says only one could be found, which was exhibited to the barons by cardinal Langton. This was, in fact, the simple model on which Magna Charta was framed. It is supposed that Henry I., after Matilda's death, destroyed all the copies (on which he could lay his hands) of a covenant which, in the latter years of his reign, he scrupled not to infringe whenever he felt disposed. Hardyng, after recording the death of the 'red king,' relates the accession of Henry I., and his marriage with Matilda of Scotland, in the following rude stanzas: — • -it! I, Ir eign |f';' '1'' ;lisli ,\:-\ : may Vi':!.' ntry vV;;!'. ^^r- ,.'i(.' •' liicli ;,,{'/ n of >■; . ;: ders '■{')' r. - isent u: ■'■■■\ itual i/Uf'H. 1 most t.-.. I ** Henry, his brother, the first king of that name, Was crowned with all the honour that might be ; He reconciled St. Anaelm, who came home. And crowned Maude hia wife Ml fair and free^ That daughter was (full of benignite) To lung Maloolyne and St. Margrete the queen Of Scotland, which afore that time had been | Of whom he gat William, Richard, and Molde, Whose goodness is yet spoken of full wide ; If she were Mr, her virtues many -fold Exceeded fiur — aU vice she set aside ; Debates that were engendered of pride She set at rest with all benevolence, And visited the sick and poor with diligence. The prisoners, and women eke with child. Lying in abject misery aye about. Clothes, meat, and bedding new and undeiiled. And wine and ale she gave withouten doubt; When she saw need in countries all throughout. Those crosses all that yet be most royal In the highways, with gold she made them aU."* T" '.I. .■' I ,1 Sir Henry Ellis's version. f 1 i ! ■ i'l . ! MM! , I ■ In, (■'. ■ k2 (IT,-! ' ;. i. .. /-. i MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, QUETiN OP HENRY I. CHAPTER n. Popularity of Matilda's, mnmage — Called Matilda Atheling — Her charities — Her brother, king Alexander the Fierce — Her works of utility — Equitable laws of king Henry — Normans nickname the king and queen — Duke Robert's inva- sion— Birth of Matilda's son — Robert's consideration for Matilda — Henry's quarrels with archbishop Anselm — Matilda's letters — England threatened with excommunication — Matilda writes to the pope — Duke Robert re-lands in England— Matilda reconciles him to the king — Anselm's return to England- Matilda's friendship for him — Birth of princess Matilda — Robert regrets the loss of his pension — Reviles Matilda — Battle of Tinchebray — Capture of Robert and the queen's uncle Edgar — Pardoned through the queen's influence — Court first kept at Windsor by Henry and Matilda — Princess Matilda betrothed to the emperor — Court at Winchester — Marriage of prince William — Portrwt of queen Matilda — Departure of empress Matilda — Parliament held — Woodstock-palace completed — Revolt in Normandy — Illness of the queen — Her death — King Hem-y's grief — Burial of Matilda — Inscription to her memory — Her palace nt Westminster — Present remains — Statue of Matilda — Her children. Matilda's English ancestry and English education rendered the new Idng's marriage with her a most popular measure with the Anglo-Saxon people, of whom the great bulk of liis subjects was composed. By them the royal bride was fondly styled Matilda Atheling, and regarded as the representative of their own regretted sovereigns. The allegi.uice which tl:e might} Norman conqueror, and his despotic son the 'red king,' had never been able to obtain, except through the sternest measures of compulsion, and which, in defiance of the dreadful penalties of loss of eyes, limbs, and life, had been frequently withdrawn from these powerful monai'chs, was freely and faithfully accorded to the husband of Matilda, Henry L, by the Sj enlightene enlarged \ to adopt, 1 beneficial j was fully ceive in th< he speaks c "Sot Hei Thai Man Thro J „ii Those to who dear were pre queen, on wh had received and though, i called Matilds Matilda fii Saxons on th Her charities tender compa^ her almost bej restraints impi her mother S strictness of 1 attentions to th She went ever 'Kind' means, MpreMion,i8derive< '■'lifii!' MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, 133 by the Saxon population. All the reforms effected by his enlightened government, and all the good laws which his enlarged views of political economy taught that wise monarch to adopt, were attributed, by his Anglo-Saxon subjects, to the beneficial influence of his young queen. Eobert of Gloucester was fully impressed with these ideas, a^ we may plainly per- ceive in the following lines in his rhyming Chronicle, in which he speaks of Henry's marriage : — " So that as oon as he was king, on St. Martyn's-day I ween, He spoused her that was called Maude the good queen, That was kind * heir of England, as I have told before. • * * * • Many were the good laws that were made in England Through Maude the good queen, as I understand." The Londoners, whose prosperity had sensibly diminished in consequence of the entire absence of female royalty, beheld with unfeigned satisfaction the palace of Edward the Confessor, at Westminster, once more graced by the presence of a queen of the blood of Alfred, whose virtues, piety, and learning rendered her a worthy successor of the last Saxon queen who had held her court there, Editha, " That gradooB rose of Gk)dwin*8 thorny stem." Those to whom the memory of that illustrious lady was justly dear were probably not unmindful of the fact, that the youthful queen, on whom the hopes of England were so fondly fixed, had received that genuine Saxon name at the baptismal font ; and though, in compliment to her Norman godfather, she was called Matilda, she was also Editha. Matilda fully verified the primitive title bestowed by the Saxons on their queens, Hlafdige, or 'the giver of bread.' Her charities were of a most extensive character, and her tender compassion for the sufferings of the sick poor carried her ahnost beyond the bounds of t< oon, to say nothing of the restraints imposed on royalty. She imitated th example of her mother St. Margaret, queen of Scotland, both in the strictness of her devotional exercises, and in her personal attentions to those who were labouring under bodily aflSictions.' She went every day in Lent to Westminster-abbey, barefoot, * ' Kind ' means, in ancient English^ relationship : ' next of kin,' a familiar »presBion, is derived from it. ' Weever. i ■ I . Ih V'l'''. [1 1 i I 'a :! {,. \ I h V i 1! .^ffl 134 K/^ TILDA OP SCOTLAND. v,"4i4 K?Vl .:ncl clothed in a gaiment of haircloth; and she would wash .vd kiss the feet of the poorest people, for which, according to Ki.bert of Gloucester, she was once reproved, not without reason, hy a con-tier. He liad his answer, however, m our readers will perceive firora 'he following curious dialc>;aei — •)■) " ' Madsin. for Golde's love is this well ado. To haicUe such unclean limbs, ard to kiff eo P Foul would the Ifing think, 'f thi? thinj' ue wist, And right well a die him ere he v- 1"" lips kist.' ' Sir, sir !' quoth die queen, ■ h.-. ^i 111. Why say yoit so P ' Our Lord himself e: ail iplo gave {'ia do BO.' '- i ' : On another occasion, her brother, \lexander the Fierc , king of Sc:otlpnd, when m a visit to the court of her ro^a) hiislifiTid, entering Matilda's apartments, found her ■,..■■ her ka&w e;>.|;Hj;'ed in washing the feet of some aged rt endicants; ou whicx' ^hf^ ',atreat'3(l him to avail himself of the opportunity of p8ffor>j>''ig H good and acceptable work of charity and hiMuiliati '»;>:.. by assisting her in this labour of love, for the benelit of his soul. The warUke majesty of Scotland smiled, and left the room without making any reply to this invitation.- Perhaps he was conscious of his want of skill as an assistant at a pediluviiun party; or it might be, that he had seen too much of such scenes during the life of his pious mother queen Margaret, and feared that his sister would carry her works of benevolence to extremes that might prove displeasing to the taste of so refined a prince as Henry Beauclerc. But to do Matilda justice, her good works in g*6heral hore a character of more extended usefulness; so much so, that we even feel the benefit of them to this day, in the ancient bridge she built over ' my lady Lea.' Once being, with her tram on horseback, in danger of perishing while fording the rivii Lea at Oldford, during a high flood, in gratitude for her pre- servation she built the first arched bridge ever known in England, a little higher up the stream, called by the Saxons * Robert of Gloucester. ' Wendover, Flowers of History, translated by T chronicler attributes the anecdote to prince David, f- was certainly c^' miently at hand, as he lived ''. So minster-palace, i* .ig married the countess St- '.■•' but David, whv, fUi, afterwards canonized, would 1;;^ t > jii/ It is Robert of Gloucester who says the brothu' ^ charitable lesson was Alisander. ■lies, p. 459. The , iiite 1105. David > ..-yard, close to West- >re8S of earl Waiiheofi; ./. his aid right willingly. whom Matilda gave the Bow-brid ancient a Bow-brid likemse ( the way 1 gave cert; towards k Matilda also Chris Duke's-pla excellent ( object of r ways that I had succeet uncle, Edw itinerant m tlu-ough the exception of by a few sea and unculti\ which Matil patriotic mo bihty the fi- royal husbar that such sti by the limite Henry th tlu'orcby tlj commons of legal authori powerful part the crown of which JJ exirv handed i" ' Bov lom Lo tho^snui-dedlike ' Hayw Which might than the Normaii and .suys,— MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 135 Bow-bridge/ still to be seen at Stratford-le-Bow, " though the ancient and niighty London-bridge has been broken down." Bow-bridge she built at the head of the town of Stratford; likewise Channel's-bridge, over a tributarj' stream of the Lea, the way between them being well paved with gravel. She gave certain manors, and a mill called Wiggin-mill, for ever, towards keeping in repair the said bridges and way.'* Matilda foimded the hospital at St. Giles-in-the-Fields, and also Christ-Church/ which stood on the very spot now called Duke's-place, noted as the resort of a low class of Jews. This excellent queen also directed her attention to the important object of making new roads, and repairing the ancient high- ways that had fallen into decay during the stormy years which had succeeded the peaceful and prosperous reign of her great uncle, Edward the Confessor. By this means, travellers and itinerant merchants were greatly facilitated in their journeys tlu'ough the then wild and perilous country, which, with the exception of the four great Eoman ways,^ was only intersected by a few scattered cart-tracks, through desolate moors, heaths, and uncultivated wastes and woodlands. These public benefits, which Matilda the Good conferred upon the people from whose patriotic monarchs she derived her descent, were in all proba- bility the fruits of her regency during the absence of her royal husband in Normandy ; for it is scarcely to be supposed that such stupendous undertakings could have been efifected by the limited power and revenues of a mere queen-consort. Henry the First, be it remembered, was placed on the tlu'orc by the Saxon division of his subjects, who were the commons of England , and by them he was supported in his regal authority against the Norman aristocracy, who formed a powerful party in favour of his eider brother's pretensions to the crown of England. The moral and political reforms with which Ilecry comTnent;.! lus reign, and, above all, the even handed r^ .sstu'e of justice vliich be caused to be observed ' Bov lorn hogen, an arch, a word in the Oi^rman language, pronounced with tho^ souiidcd like y, waicli brings it close to ^ e Anglo-Saxon. * Hayward's Three Norman Kings. '* Pennant. * Which mighty w .rks were of infinite ase to our ancestors in ages later than the Norman era. Bobert of Gloucester speaks of their utility in his day, and says, — " Thilk ways by mony a town do wend." \ I ' U" i i I ■ »;■ ,; ; ^ li I if: 111 : I . i 111 ! J I ^ 31::. ^«^>' '>->iik^¥ I 136 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. towards all who presumed to infringe the laws, gave great offence to many of those haughty nobles, who had been accus. tomed to commit the most flagrant crimes with irapimity, and to oppress their humbler neighbours without fear of being arraigned for their misdeeds. The estabhshment of the equitable laws which protected the wives and daughters oi Englislmien from insult, the honest trader from wrong and robbery, and the poor from violence, were attributed to the influence of Matilda, whom they insultingly styled "the Saxon woman,'' and murmured at the virtuous restraints which her presence and authority imposed upon the court.' The conjugal affection which subsisted between the royal pair excited, withal, the ridicule of those who had been the pro- fligate associates of the bachelor-king, William Rufus ; and it was imiversally displeasing to the haughty Norman peei-s to see the king's gracious demeanour towards the hitherto oppressed and dispirited Enghsh portion of his subjects, for whom his amiable consort was constantly labouring to procure a recognition of their rights. " The malice of certain evil- minded men," says Eadmer, " busied itself in inventing the most cutting railleries on king Henry, and his wife of English blood. They nicknamed them Leofiic and Godiva, and always called them so when not in the royal presence."" According to William of Malmesbury, however, dnke Robert's partisans were not always so polite as to restrain their malapert language till the king and queen had withdrawn. ' They openly branded their lord with sarcasms," says that quaint chronicler, " calling liim Godric," (which means ' godly governor,') " and his consort Goddiva. Henry heard these taunts : with a terrific grin, indicative of his inward wrath, 1^ repressed the contemptuous expressions aimed at him by the inadness of fools by a studied silence ; for he was a calm dissembler of his enmities, but in due season avenged himself with interest." It is probable that Warren, the disappointed suitor of Matilda, and his kinsman Mortimer, with others of the audacious Norman quens, who had previously exercised their ^rit m bestowing an offensive sobriquet on Henry before his acces- sion to the throne, were among the foremost of those invidious * Eadmer. Thierry. ibio. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 137 detractors, who could not endure to witness the wedded hap- piness of their sovereign, and the virtuous influence of his youthful queen. The invasion of duke Robert, Henry's eldest brother, on his retiu-n from the Holy Land, took place in the second year of Matilda's marriage. King Henry's fleet being manned '.vith Norman seamen, and, of course, under the influence of Norman chiefs, revolted ; and instead of guarding the coasts of England from the threatened invasion of the duke, swept across the narrow seas, and brought him and his armament in triumph to Portsmouth, where he was joined by the majority of the Anglo-Norman baronage.' Robert had also his par- tisans among the English ; for Edgar Atheling so far forgot the interests of his royal niece, queen Matilda, as to espouse the cause of his friend Robert against the king her husband. Robert landed at Portsmouth, and marched direct to Win- chester, where queen Matilda then lay-iri with her first-bom child, William the Atheling. When this circumstance was related to the duke, he relinquished his purpose of storming the city, with the observation, " that it never should be said he commenced the war by an assault on a woman in childbed, for that would be a base action.'" Matilda duly appre- ciated this generous consideration on the part of her royal brother-in-law and godfather, and exerted all her influence to negotiate a peace between him and her lord, in which she was assisted by the good offices of the archbishop Anselm ; and this formidable crisis passed over without the effusion of a diop of blood.* These are Hardyng's words on the subject : — fl thn " But Anselm archbiMhoj) of Canterbury, ;'H)I" •!■■!• -■■ And queen Matilda, made them weU accord j ) , t ' ' " ' Whe king to pay three thousand marks yearly To duke llobert, withouten more discord." > y.'-ii:^::. ]il' After this happy pacification, Henry invited Robert to become his guest at the court, where the easy-tempered duke was feasted and entertained, greatly to his satisfaction, by his royal god-daughter Matdda,* who, in her love of music, and the encourag. i she bestowed on minstrels, or trouveres^ ' Saxon Am tls, a.d. 1101. 3 Ibid. ' Chronique de Norraandie. * M. Taris. jb>^: J\\ I ! 1 ' ■ ■ i 5t>: I I ■ J f ;(' Hi 138 MATILDA OP RCOTI.AND. 1. 1 ( lit r quite coincided with the tastes of her s{)on8or and hrothei*. in-law. So much did Robert enjoy his sojourn at Iloury's court, that he stayed there upwards of six months, thougli liiij presence was frreatly required in his own dominions.' i .1) An unfort"n"V i;if nnderstanding took place between Ilenn and the nr ; hus;, 'p .liiselm, early in the year 1103. Tliis quarrel oii^^jautta in an attempt made by the archbishop to deprive llic king of a privilege which had been claimed by the Saxon monarchs, of appointing his own bishops. Anaelin wished to restore the nomination to the chapters, which Henry resolutely oppose' Jo^li app^nled to the pope, but Anselm went to Rome to plead his own cause against the king's three advocates, and remained in exile. The (piecn was much afflicted at the dissension between her royal bus- !*and and her ok! and valued spiritual father. She had loved and revered Anselm from her childhood, and he had l)c(ui mainly instrumental in rescuing her from the joyless tlu*aldom of the cloister, and securing to her the elevated position sli c enjoyed. She had been accustomed to correspond ^vitll Anselm, and she still contir.ued to do so, in the hope of com- posing the unhappy difterences wliich had drivL him into exile. Six of her letters have been printed in the folio edition of Anselm's works ; but they are rather curious than entertaining, as affording evidence of the classical attainments of this accomplished princess, aa well as her knowledge of Scripture, and he* fnmiliarity with the writings of the ancient philosophcrs.- The first • cter ' t. the set ^s was apparently written before king Henry's quarrel with Anselm, ;ind for the purpose of persuading him to relax from his ascetic habits, and to fol- low St. Paul's comfortable Ivice to Pimotliy on the score of water drinking, with manv quotations f.om Greek ard Roman philosophers, ningii.: with exliortatioiis fi*om holy writ : from which we <^her that queen Matilda did not approve of her sickly cj-eJibi op going beyond a moderate temperance rule, and that she would not have patronised teatotalism if she had lived in these days. Her other letters * Gem. • Ausclmi Opera. IHATILPA t)F "OTLAND. 139 to Ansclra are full of liinient; ioi for his absence, which Bhe regarded as higlily injurious to the intercHts of the church, and mourns over as if it were a severe personal misfurtuuo to herself. "J"" •'•'^» "'>'"' -I'l m nuin n /it i-; .,. ■ .cr'no The pope addressed several letters to the kmg on the subject of the dispute. The first of these, which is in the tone of a paternal remonstrance, alludes to the birth of the infant Atheling in words which imply great respect for queen Matilda, and informs us how ardently Henry had wished for a son. " We have heard, too, that you have had the male issue you so much desired by yo ir noble and religious con- sort." Pascal, in the coiuise of this letter, endeavours to prevail on Heiuy to recall the primate, both by reasoning and persuasion. He even offers *o bribe him by promises of indulgences and absolution foi lis sins, and those of his con- sort ; and also to cherish the son the said noble and exemplary lady had borne to him."' Henry was insensible to all these sugared words, and re- mained contumacious. He had fixed his affections, not on the spiritual consolations, but the rich temporalities of the hurch, and vjyj determined to try how far he might go in propriatiug the revenues of Canterbury to himself, without ex('*^ing an insurrectionary movement among his people. He proc v^ded to such lengths, that pope Pascal threatened to excommunif ♦^e him, and place the kingdom under an inter- dict. At a , eriod when all the kingdoms of Christendom were supposed to be at the disposal of the Roman pontifl^, and the realm of England was not only challenged, but threatened mth an invasion by so formidable a competitor as Robert of Normandy, tliis was no light threat to Henry. It was well for him that his prudent consort Matilda enjoyed the esfeexn of the pope, and was on such terms with Anselm, that she could, without any sacrifice of his dignity, mediate a recon- ciliation with both. No one who considers the correspondence of Matilda with these personages can doubt that her politic lord availed himself of her powerful influence with both to effect a pacification, when he had found he had gone too far. ' Clupouicle of ^Villlam of Mahncsbury. 1 t i I i 1 •■1 1 ; 1 I 1 ■ i i ; 1 . i i 1 k 1 ^u>) UtA j'. I* f 140 MATILDA OF SCOTT.AND. 41 Matilda's wrond letter to Ansclm, whilst contninii'; aa urgent entreaty for him to return, is accompnuied by one from Henry himself, promising to live with him on the same amicable terms that his father the Conqueror did with archbishop Lanfranc. Ilonry likewise permitted his queen to compro. miae, in some degree, the perpetually disputed point of cony^ d'd/ire, in regard to preferments. Matilda declares that, "aa far an 'n. her lay," she had bestowed the appointment of Miilmcsbury-abbey on Ulf, a monk of Winchester; but she had left the election open to h's approbation or reversal.' Ulf was, by his name, a Saxon compatriot, who had found favour with his gracious queen ; hut between the royal power and the will of the archbishop, the monks of Malmesbury were meant to exercise smal^ portion of that liberty of choice with which the church had tndowed them. Independently of the perfect conjugal unity of purpose which marks the wedded life of Matilda and her lord, she neither could nor dared have intermeddled in such weighty matters without his sanction, and those who cannot perceive the diplomatic finesse with which she camcs on the treaty for her husband^ understand little of the characteristirs of the royal pair. In addressmg the exiled primate, MatUda offers abundant incense to his spiritual pride. She styles herself " Matilda, by the grace of God queen of England, the lowliest of the handmaidens of his holiness /" and thanks him for having condescended by his letters presented to show her his mind, although he was absent. " I greet the little piece of parch- ment sent by you, as I would one from my father himself. I place it in my bosom near my heart : I read over and over again the words flowing from your kindness j my mind ponders them ; my heart considers them. Yet, while I prize all you say, I marvel at what your wise excellency says about ycir nephew.'" As the queen seems not very well to understand Anselm's allusion to his nephew, it is not possible for her biographer to explain it. However, Matilda speaks with full confidence on the possibility of her lord and master viewing ultimately the affairs of the church in the same hght as she ' Sancti Anselmi Epistolsc. ' Ibid. lib. iii. op. xcvL ' Ibid. MATIJ.DA OF SCOTI.ASn. , did ; and she foretell,, », the rc«„lt „f of winch she „,„ c,.gn,«..r^w lent ."'''■'■""="'' ™""''"""-' «.u„al« of Henry the First "tW,?^ "'"'""'» "''' V"^y- W» fl"ck, of the father to Wsd. t'lT'""""' "'"''"»'«■■ ^" place from the good will ^^^ T"^''""; "o-^'l «.on tuk„ examining, 1 fi„d re«|lv to exist in f^T "' " ''^ •^'"■''■f""y trnth, his mind lu« m" re fS hil t 'f "' ""^ '"^''- J» thmi^. I cultivate it, p«moting llr*^'" ^^ *''"» "'ea lie may grant now i„ regard tH""^"' '» y™- Whatsoever by further concessions t^n^T "T' "*" ''^ f"""-" ;)«a8.on to desire them. . ' \,^-,T^- y™ "'"y see m overstepping the bounds of Zl''' *''""'<' »«" P<^™»t plenitude of your charity, as the veC!f P'""' '■™"' «'e tomed to be in yo„, thi^Vou t^ 1"/™!™" "'* °°' "^^•"«- ofyour regard; but piously i„reet T ^™ '^e benigruty «, and for theehildL that sprint" ^"^ *>' ''™' ^^ Ae people of onr realm. May vol^^"" "'"* ' '*'««"•»■■ In the hope of averting f„m ^ ^^'^" ''"" ''"•'' "^U-" threatened interdict, MaWrnex^S. ""/.''"' '"'"S the «"W pontiff. Her letter, though p^^l ''"I ^'"^^ *» ^e prolix formaUty of a sta e-pZ K'!f- '°° ""'* '"■«'e ™ttc„; and though submisrivfJuthe whT"' " ^^^ »% pmof that, whomsoever might be ! M' *' """"'" '^"rtai^ 'to was not among the number tl'" " "^ '"'^''''''y' »al«at,o„ contain an admonihC that?h 7- ''™' "^ ''^' everlasting felicity she wishes Wm must d "?"™"* "^ *« '» which he discharges the dufe oTh t??" °° "'" ""»"«' «K "To the highest no,!tw !i^' '"«'' ™«'«<>'', for she Matilda, by God's ^^^^''j"^ 7™™" ^^^^ I""-"! f «. dispense in this life Te L J^'^' '""^'^ *»* he 'h«t he may deseire to bl „ilL *« "P^^'ohcal see, "Clave in the joys of nernTt,,.! ^ """""S the apostolic ' ejust" Saii,;, yet'rSeTRo"* tf "°""^- ^ 'te high spirit of an English nZ. f"' ""'"'''' •■' - "'^ " ■' •■• ■" .-. ■ From WiUiam of Malmesbury's version of the manner in which Matilda obtained the resignation of Robert's pension, it should appear that she only made an indirect insinuation of how acceptable such an addition to her queenly revenues would be, and he bestowed it upon her without a word. Our shrewd old monk, however, ha^ very little appreciation of such chivalric munificence to a royal lady, for he drily observes, " And he, too, as if contending with Fortmie whether she should give or • Clironlque de Nonnandio, 248-9. ' Eadmcr. liclcrs .' e was I iatitMft I r ;\ if '■ yM: ! i , ■I i m i.ii 1: if k i V. ff' tii.ri 11^ ill . IS J r 144 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. be squander most, discovering the mere wisli of the queen who silently desired it, kindly forgave the payment of this immense sum for ever, thinking it a very great matter that female pride should condescend to ask a favour, although he was her godfather." According to another liistorian, Hobert resigned his pension to Matilda at a carouse ; and when he became aware of the foUy of which he had been guilty, he was greatly exasperated, and bitterly reproached his brother Henry " with having cheated nnd despoiled liim, by employing the queen to beguile him with fair words out of his pension when he was under the influence of wine."' It is certain that there was nothing but animosity between the royal brothers after this affair. In the year 1104, Henry left the government of England in the prudent hands of Matilda, and embai'ked for Normandy. Wlule there, he consented to meet Ansehn, the archbishop, at the castle of FAigle, where, through the me(hation of his sister Adela, comitess of Blois, a recou- ciliation was happily effected. Anselm then returned to England, where he was met at Dover by the queen Matilda, who received and welcomed him with the greatest demonstra- tions of satisfaction.^ As the venerable primate was in feebio health, the queen took the precaution of preceding liim on Hi; road from Dover to the metropoUs, providing, as she went, for his comforts and accommodation.' Tlie return of Anselm was attended with circumstances which gave great pain to Matilda, as an English queen. Both the king and archbishop, after their reconciliation, united in enforcing inexorably the cehbacy of the Axiglo- Saxon clergy, whose lower orders had previously Ijccn able to obtain licences to mai'ry. Anselm now excommunicated all the married clergy. Two hmidred of these unfortunate Saxons, barefoot, but clad ui their clerical robes, encountered the king and quetu in the streets of London. They implored the king's com- passion : he turned from them with words of insult. They tlieu ' Eodmer. (lem. ' Pasfiil II. admitt;«Hl Ansolm, the favourite priest and prelate of Matilda, to a scat near his rij^ht f(X)t ; sayin,fiability enacted. She was singularly holy, by no means despicable in point of beauty, a rival of her royal mother's piety, blameless as regarded feminine propriety, and unsullied even by suspicion. She had a singular pleasure in hearing the service of God, and on this account was thoughtlessly prodigal towards clerks of melodious voice, both in gifts and promises. Her generosity becoming imiversaHy known, crowds of scholars, equally famed for poetry and music, came over, and happy did he account himself who could soothe the ear of the queen by the novelty of his song." ' .-'^ ' Matilda's preference to foreigners in dispensmg her patron- age is censured by our worthy chronicler us one of her few faults. This he imputes to vanity or lovi?- of ostentation in the queen; " for," says he, " the love of lame is so rooted in the human mind, that sciu'cely any one is contented with the jjrecious fruits of a good conscieuee, but is desirous of having their laudable actions blazed abroad. II. nee it was justly observed, that the inclination crept upon the queen to rewai'd all the foreigners she could, wliile the others were kept in suspense, and though sometimes rewarded, oftener tantalized with empty promises." Nor was this all; for, like a faithful aunallst, Malmesbury chronicles the evil as well as the good of this illustrious lady, who, he says " fell into an error inci- ' Lingard. ' Ibid. lir.i 'ill I'?' I I ! : SJ 15 il iu 146 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ;,. ! I'M- dental to prodigal queens by rack-renting her tenants, and thus extorting from them unjustly the means of supporting her liberality to others, who had less claims to her bounty. " But whoso," pursues he, " shall judge rightly, will impute this to her servants, who, harpy-Uke, conveyed every thing they could gripe into their own purses, or wasted it in riotous living. Her ears being infected with the base insinuations of these people, she induced this stain on her noble mind, holy and meritorious in every other respect."' The profound tran- quillity that subsisted m her husband's dominions during his frequent absences in Normandy, is a proof that Matilda under- stood the art of domestic government, and practised it witli a happier effect than the two first Anglo-Norm£in sovereigns, whose reigns were so greatly disturbed by insurrections. Henry, after his successful campaign in Normandy, returned to England, in his personal appearance at least, an altered man. The Anglo-Normans had adopted the picturesque Saxon fashion — which, however, was confined to persons of high rank — of wearing their hair long, and flowing in ringlets on their shoulders; and the king was remarkable for the luxu- riance and beauty of his love-locks, wliich he cherished with peculiar care, no doubt out of a laudable desii'e to conform to the tastes of his queen, the daughter of a Saxon princess, His courtiers imitated the royal example, which gave great scandal to the Norman clergy. One day, while the king was in Normandy, he and his train entered a church, where an ecclesiastic of the name of Serlo, bishop of Seez, took up his parable on the sinfulness of this new fashion, " which," he protested, " was a device of the Evil one to biing souls into everlasting perdition; compared the moust ached, bearded, and long-haired men of that fige to filthy goats;"- arid, in short, made so moving a discourse ;.^i the unlovehiiess of their present appearance, that the king of England and his courtiers melted into tears ; on wliich Serlo, perceiving tlie imprc^ssion which liis eloquence had made, drew a pair of scissors out of his sleeve, and, instead of permitting their peni- tence to evaporate in a few unmeaning drops, persuaded hi^ ' GL'es's William of Malmc\:bury. * Ordericus Vitalis. ! I MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, 147 royal and noble auditors to prove the sincerity of their repen- tance by submitting their ringlets to his discretion, and brought his triumph to a climax by polling the king and congregation with his own hands. After Henry had thus submitted his flowing ringlets to the reforming shears of Serlo, he published an edict, commanding his subjects to follow his example. ' Henry was then courting popularity in the duchy of Nor- » mandy, and well knew that the readiest way to effect his I object, was to win the good report of the monks. He had '■ previously scandalized all piously disposed persons, by choos- 1 ing for his private chaplain a priest whose only merit con- | sisted in being able to hurry over matins and mass in half an i hour. Tliis was Roger le Poer,* afterwards the rich and / potent bishop of Salisbury, whose hasty dispatch of the mom- . ing service so charmed Henry, that he swore aloud in the I church " that he had at length met with a priest fit for a soldier." Roger, when he received this flattering commenda- tion from the hps of royalty, was only a poor ciu-ate at Caen, but was advanced by Henry to the highest preferment in the church and state. Queen Matilda did not long enjoy the society of her royal husband in England, and during the brief period he spent mth her at Northampton, in the mnter season, his whole time and thoughts were employed in raising the means for pursuing the war in ISormaady. His unfortimate brother, Robert, finding himself sorely pressed on every side, and left, by his oflTi improvident foUy, without resources for continuing the contest, came over to England unattended, and, repairing to the court at Northampton, forced an interview with Henry,* fwho was reluctant to admit him into his presence,) and epju- estly besought his compassion; teUing him, at the same time, " he was ready to submit every ^ jing to his brotherly love, if he would only permit him to retain the appearance of a sovereign." As it by no means suited Henry's pohcy to yield to the dictates of natural affection, he coldly turned away, mut- tering something to himself that was unintelligible to the by-standers, and which he could not be induced to explain. ' Godwin de Pracs. ^ M. Pturis. l2 ! •II; iff 'il; i \'^ i ,--! , i I; I v'\ \ W 1 ! i I, !!' 'ji'ipr ii' li t ii i! -i 1 I :! t I , rll 1 ';l!: ' (I' H I If 148 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. I^ Robert's quick temper could not brook tliis contemptuous usage, and, in a paroxysm of rage, he indignantly assailed his brother with a storm of reproaches, mingled with abuse and menaces ; and without waiting to employ the good offices of queen Matilda, through whose kindly influence it is possible he might have obtained reasonable conditions of peace, he departed from Northampton the same hoiu*.' In the spring, Henry once more committed the domestic aflfairs of his kingdom to the care of MatUda, and having levied an enormous tax on his subjects, to support the expenses of the war, embarked for Normandy. Matilda was principally em- ployed, dming the king's absence, in superintending the mag- nificent buildings at New Windsor, whic;1i were founded by Henry, and in the completion of the royal apartments in the Tower of London. She, as M'ell as Henry, pafvonised Gun- dulph, the episcopal architect, to whom England is indebted for the most magnificent and lasting of her pubhc buildings. Many usefiil public works, to which we have before alluded^ furnished, under her auspicea, emplojnnent for the working classes, and improved the general condition of the people. While civihzation and the arts of peace were rapidly pro- gressing, through the beneficial influence of Matilda, at home, the arms of her royal consort were imiversrJly triumphant in Normandy. The unfortunate Robei-t Courthose, with liis young son William, (who was called Clito, or royal heir,) with the earl of Mortaigne and all the nobles of their party, were taken prisoners at the decisive battle of Tinchebray, which was fought on the vigil of St. Michael, exactly forty years after the famous battle of Hastings. The English were much elated at this circumstance, whereby they flattered their national pride with the idea that the husband of their beloved queen, of Saxon lineage, had wiped away the di8hoi>x)ur of ^he Norman conquest, by subjugating Normandy to the yoke of England. Edgar Athelmg, Matilda's imcle, was taken figiit- ing for his friend Robert of Normandy, besides four hundred valiant knights." Henry instantly released the aged })rince, for love of the queen his niece, say some of the chroniclei"s of ^ Saxon Aiiniila. * W. Malmesbury. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 149 that period, and at her intercession settled a pension upon him for life. Henry, now at the summit of his ambition, having verified the death-bed prediction of his father the Conqueror that he should unite in his own person the inheritance of both his brothers, returned triumphantly to England with his unfor- tunate captives. Robert he sent to Cardiff-castle, where for a time his confinement was only a sort of honourable restraint, if we may credit the account which Henry himself gives of it in a letter to the pope : " I have not," says he, " imprisoned liim as an enemy ; but I have plaqed him in a royal castle, as a noble stranger broke down with many troubles, and I supply him abundantly with every delicacy and enjoyment." Henry and Matilda kept their Easter this year at Bath, and, during the summer, introduced the popular custom of making a royal progress through different parts of England.* They held their court the following year, for the first time, at New Windsor, then called, from the picturesque winding of the river Thames, Windlesore. This beautiful retreat was originally used as a himting-seat by WiUiam the Conqueror, who, for better security of his person, converted it into a fortress or castle ; but the extensive alterations and improve- ments which the elegant tastes of the Beauclerc sovereign and his accompHshed consort Matilda of Scotland effected, first gave to Windsor-castle the magnificent and august character, as a royal residence, which has rendered it ever since a favourite abode with succeeding sovereigns. In the year 1108, the affairs of Normandy requiring the presence of the king, another temporary sepai'ation took place between Matilda and her royal lord. Indeed, fi'om the time that the duchy of Normandy was subjected to his sway, it be- came a matter of necessity, in order to preserve his popularity with his continental subjects, to pass a considerable portion of his time among them : meanwhile, the peace and integral pros- perity of England were best promoted by the presence of Matilda, who formed the bond of union between Henry of Norman 'Y and the Saxon race. Therefore it appears to have ' Saxon Chronicle. HI is ■ W ■f % rii V\ S. I i ■ i % ' i Hi 1' T ' \ Hi )l i i 5 , U U':j li ¥ II i -■ If ;\ H ?.'■"' fi.-~, ■, ., ; 1 ( wm 150 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. been a measure of political expediency for her to remain with her splendid court at Westminster or London, endeariug herself daily more and more to the people by her works of princely charity and the pubUc benefits which she woo constantly labouring to promote. Thus we see, on nccurate examination, that, contrary to the assertions of one or two paradoxical wi-itei-s, who have assumed that Matilda was not treated with the affection and respect that were her due in wedded life, she enjoyed a degree of power and influence in the state perfectly unknown to the Saxon queens. She was so nobly dowered, withal, that in after reigns the liighest demand ever made on the pai-t of a queen-consort was, that she should be endowed with a dower equal to that of Matilda of Scotland.' By close examination of the earliest authorities, we find, that the first parhaments held by the Anglo-Norman dynasty were the fruits of the virtuous influence of this excellent queen over the mind of her husband. But as the fact, whether parliaments were ever held before the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I. has been a point of great contest among modem historians, we take leave to quote the following lines from Robert of Gloucester in support of the assertion, — first, that parliaments were held ; and next, that they were held througli the influence of Matilda :- " When his daughter was ten years old, to council there he drew, On a Whit-Sunday, a great parliament he name [held] At Westminster, nohle enow, that much i'o)\ came."^ Piers of Langtoft distinctly points out the classes of whom Matilda advised Henry to take counsel ; xvl. barons, lords of towns, and burgesses. Here are the hne» : — " Maid the good queen gave him in council To love all Ids folk and leave all his tvrpeile, [disputing,] To bear him with his barons that held of him thei'* tees, [feofe,] And to lords of towns and burgesses of cities : Through council of dame Maid, a kind woman and true, InwiottJ of hatred old, there now was love all new j Now love they full well thi harons and ihv king. The king does ilk a den ' at their bidding." ' Tyrrell, ' ibid. vol. ii. p. 430. The edition is royal octavo. ' Robert of (Jlouijester died befor he completed the reign of Henry III. i consequently, if the first ]iarlKunent were held in that of Edward I., he touW not even have mentioned such legislative assemblies without possessLug the gift of prophecy. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 151 Robert of Gloucester, from first to last, speaks of queen Matilda as an active agent in the government of England, and the restorer and upholder of the Saxon form of legis- lature, whose system was that of a representative constitution. He says, — " The goodness that king Henry and the good queen Mold Did to this land ne may never be told." The year 1109 must have beon an era of eventful interest to Matilda. Her royal husband, having spent the winter and spring in Normandy,' returned to England in the summer, to visit her and their infant family, and kept court with uncommon splendour in his new palace at Windsor, which had been com- pleted in his absence. It was there that he received the ambassadors who came to sohcit the hand of the princess Matilda for the emperor Henry V.'^ The proposal was eagerly accepted by Henry Beauclerc; and the princess, thtri just turned of five years old, was solemnly espoused by proxy to her royal suitor, who was forty years her senior ; but, on accoimt of her tender age, the infant bride was allowed for the present to remain under the care of the queeu her mother.^ The fact that Henry's numerous illegitimate children were many of them adults at this period, proves that they were bom in his youth, and at all events before his marriage with Matilda of Scotland. In the year 1109, the mighty Norma^i chief Fitz-Haymon, lord of Glamorgan, dying without sons, leit the lady Aimabel, his young heiress, to the guardianship of the king. Henry, wishing to secure so rich a prize for his eldest natural son Robert, proposed him to his fair ward, as a suitable husband for her. But the haughty Norman damsel, though only sixteen, intrepidly replied, *' That the ladies of her house were / / not accustomed to wed nameless persons." Then the king answered, " Neither shalt thou, damsel ; for I will give my son a fair name, by wliich he and his son? shall be called. Robert Fitzroy shall be his name henceforth." — " But," objected the prudent heiress of Glamorgan, " a name so given ' Saxon Annals. ' M. Paris. Huntingdon. ' M. Paris. II Wf; I 1 1 ■ ['■{. i i i i • i i i ! I ( I 1 1 ' 1 ; ' 1 i ; ■ j i ' ! ■ ' 1 1 ' 1 1 , i ■ ) : i- ■ -': ^^■■f 1 >(# s ' .■ . ? i \ ■ , 'f ■ \ ■ III ^ i -:?■:■• 1, 1 M i t 1 ; -"■■■', ! ) i. : I . i y \ ' i \ j 1 , i_ ',. I 152 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. is nothing. Where are the lands, and what the lordship, of the man you will me to wed, sire ?" — " Truly/* responded the king, with a raiie, " thy question is a slirewd one, damsel : I will endow my son Robert with the lands "I honours of Gloucester, and by that title shall he hencefmli ue called." The lady Aimabel made no further demur, we are told, but wedded the king's son without delay. The fact was, the king was generously bestowing upon his son Robert the lands and honoiu^ which had been granted or sold to Fitz-Hayrnon, her deceased father, by William Rufiis, once the patrimony of the luckless Brihtric Meaw ;' and the young lady, who seems to have been gifted with no ordinary share of worldly wisdom, thought, no doubt, that she had better hold the lands and honours of Gloucester on the tenure of wife-service to the king's son, than lose them altogether. Such were the dealings of the Anglo-Norman sovereigns with their wards. The high- fipirited heiress of Fitz-IIaymon was, however, fortunate in the marriage that was thus arranged for her by her royal guardian. Robert Fitzroy was the princely earl of Gloucester who so vahantly upheld the title of his half-sister, the empress Matilda, to the F-jf^li^h crown in the succeeding reign. A trt'/c <>f three shillings on every hide of land was levied to pti^ tile portion of the princess Matilda, by which the sum of 824,000^', was raised ; and the princess was sent over to her imperial husband with a magnificent retinue. She was espoused to him ill the cathedral of Mentz,* and solemnly crowned by the archbishop of Cologne. Queen Matilda was in the next year left to keep court alone, in consequence of a formidable insurrection in Normandy in favour of William Clito, son of the unfortunate Robert Courthose, which was privately fomented by the earl of Flanders. King Henry, perceiving that all classes of his continental subjects were averse to the yoke of an absent sovereign, considered it expedient to forego the society of his queen and children for a period of nearly two years, wliile he held his separate state in Normandy. ' See the preceding biography, and Domesday-book. ' Simeon of Durham. n MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 158 In the year 1112, we find the king and queen' were together at Winchester, with their court, where they personally assisted at the removal of the bodies of Alfred the Great and his queen Alsvatha from the ruinous cliapcl of Ncwminster, close to Winchester cathedral, to the magnificeul ab1»oy of Hyde,' founded and endowed by Henry and TntiUla, as a more suitable shrine for the relics of their illusi.ious progenitor, — from whom, be it remembered, JT-ur ^s wpI, xs his Saxon queen, was descended in the ei 'i.th 6'- m, hrough the , will I an earl of 0, che bones of iC ancestors of The following miirriage of Elstrith, the daughter Flanders, his maternal ancestor. Edward the Elder and his queen, the ui: Matilda, were at the same time translai. year Henry was again in Normandy, where lie entered into an amicable treaty with one of his most troublesome enemies, Fulk earl of Anjou, by a matrimonial alliance between his heir, prince William, and Alice, the daughter of that earl. The education of Matilda's eldest daughter being considered as completed in 1114, the marriage was fully solemnized between her and the emperor Henry V., and they were both crowned a second time, with great pomp, in the cathedral at Mentz. The young empress was then only in her twelfth year. Notwithstanding this jjreat disparity in age, it appears that the youthful bride enjoyed a reasonable share of happiness with her mature consort, by whom she was treated with the greatest indulgence, while her great beauty and majestic carriage won the hearts of the German princes, and obtained for her unbounded popularity. Matilda's eldest son, prince William, (or the Atheling, as he was more generally styled by the English,) was, in the year 1115, conducted by the king his father with great pomp into Normandy, where he was presented to the states as the heir of the duchy, and fealty was sworn to him by the barons ' Archeeologia. ' Henry VIII. bruttdly desecrated the place where reposed the remains of these patriot sovereigns. Englishmen of the eighteenth century, more barbarous still, converted the holy fane into a bridewell, and the bones of Alfred were by felon hands exhumed and dispersed. ^ Archseologia. ■! I r 1 ' I \ f * ' I 1 i : 1 i i! 1 i: , 1 \ ' "^ , H : i ' i 4' 1 i it ! j i; i: ! ( » t '* i ;il ! I ii 1 Sf' c.>r"r « U il A 11^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4 1.0 I.I ■^■M |2.5 ^0 IIIII2.C 12.2 1.8 1-25 II 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► Ss V^A V Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 873-4503 '/. s ^ ^ .<^ iV L54 MATU.DA OF SCOTLAND. P«i|| :■■ i and freemen. This prince was then only twelve years old. He returned with his royal father to England in July^ and the following year Henry summoned that memorable parliament, mentioned by Holinshed as the first held since the Norman conquest, to meet at Salisbury, and there appointed the young prince as his successor. William of Malmesbuiy says, " Every fireeman of England and Normandy, of whatsoever degree, or to whatsoever lord his vassal service was due, was made to perform homage, and swear fealty to William, son of king Henry and queen Matilda.^' The Easter festival was kept this year by the royal family at Odiham-castle, in Hampshire. Matilda passed the Christmas festival of the same year, in the company of her royal husband, at the abbey of St. Alban's.' They were the guests of abbot Richard, who had then brought to a happy conclusion the building of that magnificent fabric. He invited the queen, who was one of its benefactresses, the king, and the archbishop of Rouen, and many prelates and nobles, to assist at the consecration of the abbey, which took place Christmas-day, 1115. The royal pair, with their suite of nobles and ladies, were lodged in the abbey, and entertained from December 25th to January 6th. The queen, sanctioned by Henry, gave, by charter, two manors to St. Alban's. The existence of a portrait of queen Matilda is certainly owing to this visit ; for in a rich illuminated volume, called the Golden Book of St. Alban's, (now in the British Museum,) may still be seen a miniaturo of the royal benefactress.^ The queen is m'' ' ". ' , ■ '''^ • '■ ^ Newcome's Hifltoiy of St. Alban's, pp. 52, 93. ' Cottonian MSS. Nero, D, 7. A beautiM and accurate copy from the orig^ has licen drawn by M. Kearney at the expense of Henry Howard, esq., of Corby, the descendant of Matilda, and presented by him to the authors of this worli:. It corrects, in many particulars, the errors of an engraving published by Strutt. We have the opportunity, in this new edition, of desc 'bing Matilda's portrait from an examination of the Golden Book itself, from which Mr. Harding, the cele- brated antiquarian artist, has made our accompanying iUustratiou. The Golden Book of St. Alban's is a sort of conventual album, in which were entered the portraits ot all the benefactors of the abbey, together with an abstract of their donations. Five different artists, of various degrees of merit, may be traced in thid collection. Some of the miniatures are exquisitely designed and coloured, others are barbarous and puerile in their execution ; some of the portraits are represented holding well-flUed purses, others displaying the charters, with large pendant seals, which attired ii covers th the bust passes t}] left hand down the and are s * i MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 155 attired in the royal mantle of scarlet, lined with white fur ; it covers the knees, and is very long. The mantle is square to the bust. A cordon of scarlet and gold, with a large tassel, passes through two gold knobs ; she holds the cordon in her left hand. She wears a tight kirtle of dark blue, buttoned down the front with gold. Her sleeves fit dose to the arms, and are scarlet like the mantle. A white veil is arranged in a square form on the brow, and is siurmounted by a gold crown, formed of three large trefoils, and gold oreillettes appear beneath the veil on each side of the cheeks. The veil flows behind her shoulders with lappets. Matilda is very fair in complexion: she has a long throat, and elegant form of tall proportions. She displays with her right hand the charter she gave the abbey, from which hangs a very large red seal, whereon, without doubt, was impressed her eflSgy in grand rehef. She sits on a carved stone bench, on which is a scarlet cushion figured with gold leasees. This cushion is in the form of a woolpack, but has four tassels of gold and scarlet. A piece of figured cloth is hung at the back of her seat. There are no armorial bearings, — one proof of the authenticity of the portrait. " Queen Matildis gave us Bellwick and Lillebum," is the notation appended by the monks of St. Alban's to this portrait. About this period, the stately new palace at Woodstock being completed, and the noble park, reckoned the finest at that time in England, having been walled round, Henry stocked it with a curious menagerie of wild beasts, the first zoological collection ever seen in this country. It is described in very quaint terms by Stowe, who says, " The king craved secnred broad lands to church and poor. It is true that Matilda's portrait was not entered till the fourteenth century, when the book was first commenced j but the style of dress, together with the form of the throne on which the queen is seated, prove that the original design was drawn in the queen's own day; for the artists of the middle ages drew only what they saw, and had the limner been inclined to give a supposititious portrait of queen Matilda, he would have designed her figure clad in the costume of Edward the Third's era, and seated in the high-backed gothic chtur of state on which royal persons were enthroned since the days of Edward I., as may be seen by reference to any collection of engravings from regal seals ; instead of which, Matilda is seen seated on the primitive stone bench of Anglo-Saxon royalty, represented on the seals of the Anglo-Norman and early Plantagenet monarchs. ■'■ . m '-.'yM i 1 I'.m 156 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. fir- ^ K' 11 from other kings lions, leopards, lynxes, and camels, and other curious heasts, of which England hath none. Among others, there was a strange animal called a stryx, or porcupine, sent him by WiUiam of MontpeUer ; which beast," says the worthy chronicler, "is, among the AiSicans, counted as a kind of hedgehog, covered with pricking bristles, which they shoot out naturally on the dogs that pursue them." Unbounded hospitality was one of the social virtues of this peaceful reign,' especially at this peculiar era, when the benignant example of the good queen had, for a period of nearly seventeen years, produced the happiest effect in soften- ing the manners of the haughty and powerful chieftains who were at that time the magnates of the land. The Norman families, at this period, were beginning to practise some of the peaceful pursuits of the Anglo-Saxons, and ladies of high rank considered it no infringement on the dignity of their station to attend to the profitable concerns of the poultry, yard and the dairy. The countess Constance of Chester, though the wife of Hugh Lupus, the king's first cousin, kept a herd of kine, and made good Cheshire cheeses, three of which she presented to the archbishop of Canterbury. Giraldus Cambriensis bears honourable testimony to the excellence of the produce of the ' cheese-shire ' in that day. A fresh revolt in Normandy^ deprived Matilda of the society of her husband and son in 1117. The king, acf 5g to iEadmer, returned and spent Christmas with her, a.- .ic was at that time hi a declining state of health ;^ leaving prince William with his Norman baronage, as a pledge for his return/ His sojourn was, of necessity, very brief He was compelled by the distracted state of affairs in Normandy to rejoin his * The following verses from an ancient MS., quoted by CoUins, affords an interesting witness of this fact. They were inscribed by sir William Fitz- William, the lord of Sprotborough, on an ancient cross, which was demolished at the Reformation : — " Whoso is hungry, and Usts well to eat, Let Iiim come to Sprotborough to his meat j And for a night and a day His horse shall have both com and hay. And no one shall ask him, ' when he goeth awayP' " ' Oi-dcriciis Vitalis. * Saxon Annals. * Eadmer, p. 118 ; see Rapin, vol. i. 199. MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. 157 araiv there, — Matilda never saw either her husband or her son again. Resigned and perfect in all the duties of her high calling, the dying queen remained, during this trying season, in her palace at Westminster,^ lonely though surrounded with all the splendour of royalty; enduring with patience the separation from her beloved consort and children, and affording, to the last hour of her life, a beautiful example of piety and self- denial. She expired on the 1st of May, 1118,'' passionately lamented by every class of the people, to whom her virtues and wisdom had rendered her inexpressibly dear. According to the most ancient chroniclers, the king her husband was much afflicted when the intelligence of Matilda's death reached him, amidst the turmoil of battle and siege in Normandy.^ Piers of Langtoft alludes to the grief felt by the royal widower, at the loss of his amiable consort, in terms of the most homely simplicity : — " Now is the king sorry, her death doth him gram" [grieve.] Hardyng^s rhyming Chronicle produces the following quaint stanzas on the death of Matilda, and the sorrow of king Henry for her loss : — " The year of Christ a thousar J was foil clear. One hundred eke and therewithal eighteen, When good queen Maude was dead and laid on hier. At Westminster buryed, as well was seen j For heaviness of which the king, I ween. To Normandy then went with his son The duke William, and there with him did won." HardjTig is, however, mistaken in supposing that Henry was with his beloved consort at the time of her decease. The same chronicler gives us another stanza on the death of Henry, in which he, in yet more positive terms, speaks of the con- jugal affection which united the Norman sovereign to his Saxon queen : — " Of Christe's date was there a thousand yeai-. One hundred also, and nine and thirty mo, Btuned at Bedynge, as well it doth appear, ' William of Malmcsbury. ' Saxon Annals. ' Robert ot Gloucester. '\' Ji i,i! f It ^ 'I' \% 158 & { .'iff MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. In the abbye which there he founded so. Of monkes black, whenever they ride or go, T)iat pray for him and queen Maude his wife. Who either other loved withouten strife." Another chronicler says, " Nothing happened to trouble the king, save the death of his queen Matilda, the very mirror of piety, humihty, and princely bounty."* The same causes that had withheld the king from attending Matilda in her d3ring illness, prevented him from honouring her obsequies with his presence. Matilda was biuied on St. Philip's-day in Westminster-abbey, on the right side of her royal uncle, Edward the Confessor.' Great disputes, however, have existed as to the place of her interment,' which has been contested with almost as much zeal as was displayed by the seven cities of Greece, in claiming the honoiu* of having given buih to Homer. The monks of Reading averred that theii- royal patroness was buried in her own stately abbey there, where her illustrious consort was afterwards interred. The rhyming chroniclers insist that she was buried in St. Paul's cathedral, and that her epitaph was placed in Westminster- abbey. These are the words of Piers of Langtoft, — "At London, in St. Paul's, in tomb she is laid, Christ, then, of her soul have mercie ! ' If any one will wiften [know] of her storie, At Westminster it is written rcodtZy,-" that is to say, so that it may be plainly read. Tyrrell declares that she was buried at Winchester, but that tablets to her memory were set up in many churches, — an honour which she shares with queen Elizabeth. The following passage from Weever testifies that the mortal remains of Matilda, * the good queen,' repose near the relics of her royal uncle, Edward the Confessor, in the solemn temple founded by that last Saxon monarch, and which had been completed under her careful superintendence. "Here lieth in West- minster-abbey, without any tomb, iMatilda or Maud, daughter of Malcolm Canmore, king of Scots, and wife of Henry I. of England, who brought to him cliildren, William, Richard, and •r ' Florence of Worcester. * ' Pennant's London. Robert of Gloucester. • According to Stowe, her grave wns in the vestry of the abbey. > I MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 159 Mary, who perished by shipwreck, and Hkewise Maud, who was wife to Henry, the fifth emperor. She died the first day of May, 1118."' She had an excellent epitaph made to her commendation, whereof four lines only remain : — V " ' " Prospera non lactam feccre, nee aspera tristem, Aspera risus erant, prospera terror erant ; Non decor efficit fragilem, non sceptra superbam, ■, > • ' ' ' ' Sola potens humilis, sola puJicu decens." Henry of Huntingdon, the chronicler, no mean poet, was the author of these Latin lines, of which the following is a fiiithful version : — , ., ,. , , . , .^ " Prosperity could not inflate her mind, '' " '' ' ' Lowly in greatness, as in ills resigned : ; / , ', . i Beauty deceived not, nor did crowns efface Her best adornment, woman's modest grace." William of Malmesbury, speaking of the death of Matilda of Scotland, says, " She was snatched away from her country, to the great loss of her people, but to her own advantage ; for her funeral being splendidly solemnized at Westminster, she entered into her rest, and her spirit manifested, by no trifling indications, that she was a resident in heaven." Some attempts, we suppose, therefore, must have been made by the monks of Westminster to establish for this great and good queen a deceptive posthumous fame, by the testimony of miracles performed at her tomb, or pretended revelations from her spirit to her contemporaries in the flesh. Our marvellous chronicler, however, confines himself to the above significant hints, and takes his leave of Matilda in these words : " She died willingly, leaving the throne after a reign of seventeen years and six months, experiencing the fate of her family, who aU died in the flower of their age." Many curious remains still exist of the old palace in West- minster, where Matilda kept state as queen, and ended her life. This venerable abode of our early sovereigns was originally built by Canute, and, being devastated by fire, was rebuilt by Edward the Confessor with such enduring sohdity, that antiquaries stiU point out diflerent portions which were indubitably the work of the royal Saxon, and therefore must ' Weever's Funeral Monuments. ', I 'fff A : ■J ;>ii- l|ji^: ) ! 1 I I t i itr ( :i H 1 : if I 160 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. have formed part of the residence of his niece. Pajft of the old palace of Westminster is still to be seen in the build, ings near Cotton-garden, and the lancet-shaped windows about Old Palace-yard are declared to appertain to it.' Cotton- garden was the private garden of the ancient palace, and therefore belonged especially to queen Matilda. It would be idle to dwell on Westminster-hall and Westminster-abbey, though the original sites of both were included in the pre- cincts of this palace, because one was rebuilt from the ground by Richard II., and the other by Henry III. Great devas- tation was made in the royal abode of the Anglo-Saxon queen, by the late disastrous conflagration of the house of lords and its adjacent apartments, which all belonged to it. The house of lords was an antique oblong room ; it was the hall of state of Matilda's palace, and called the white-hall, but without any reference to the vast palace of Whitehall, to which the seat of English royalty was transferred in the reign of Henry VIII. As the Painted-chamber, stUl entire, is well known to have been the bedchamber of Edward the Confessor, and the apartment in which he expired,^ there can be no doubt but that it was the state bedchamber of his niece. A curious room in Cotton-house was the private oratory of the Confessor, and was assuredly used by Matilda for the same purpose ; while at the south end of the court of Reqi\ests are to be seen two mighty arches, the zig-zag work of which ranks its architecture among the most ancient existing in our countrv. This was once a deserted state-chamber' of the royal Saxon palace, but it has been used lately by the house of commons. There is a statue of Matilda in Rochester cathedral, which forms the pilaster to the west door ; that of king Henry, her husband, forms another. The hair of the queen depends over either shoulder, in two long plaits, below the knees. Her gar- ments are long and flowing, and she holds an open scroll of ' Pennant. ' HowelL " The appellation of court of Requests has no reference to modem legal pro- ceedings. It was the feudal court of the high steward of England. It wu used by the house of commons after the destruction of St. Stephen's chapel, while the lords obtained possession of the Painted-chamber. M-nnf MATttDA OP SCOTLAmy. parchment in her hand W„ r ^' so ™.npletoly broken „„^y, thatt^,"" '''''''««•- «nd indeed Kmg Hemyproved the siS^ff v" *^ '*°"^- by eonfirmmg aU her charter^ {^ "^"^ ("r Matilda. Hoi. ^ni^ il.'UH't^r^t? '^ «^^Co1?t: the good of her soul of 9«7 ^"^ ^« ^ueen Matad« f Exeter »dcon.„a„Sl'^J^^^-n the fa™, of K;t? hs exchequer (» constrain tijfrr """" '^^ ""^"^ ^ MatJda'8 household was cW.fl »^ .t a:teri-t'^s^^rrhe„tt'tf ^ 7 *' '^' besides WmJ T"^ "^ Can- '«aniaa, a son namp/l i?- i. , ♦^'^luiam and fha « R. , ^"^^^ o^ Gloucester both « i ^^°« ChronicJe Richard, and Piers nf t ^P^^ of her «p«« j sons, were wf^ 5 ^^^^oft says " Th. ^ """^ ^^ his fetW '"?^d«'' of the year 117«l ^^^^^ ^« «^ore. ^---,a^,.-.^>^B^e,.«,, /*! I » i r'^ ! .) I; f I ^^' 162 MATILDA OF SCOTI.AND. '1:- W'ln Fi'"^;t'i n * France and the partisans of his cousin William Clito. On one occasion, when the noble war-horse and its rich caparisons belonging to that gallant but unfortunate prince, having been abandoned during a hasty retreat, were captured, and Henry presented this prize to his darUng heir, the noble youth gene- rously sent them back, with a courteous message, to his rival kmsman and namesake.' His royal father, king Henry, did not disdam to imitate the magnanimous conduct of his youthful son after the memorable battle in which the standard of France was taken : when the favourite charger of Louis le Gros fell into his hands, he returned it to the French monarch the next day. The king of France, as mzerain of Normandy, at the general pacification required of Henry the customary homage for his feof. This the victorious monarch considered derogatory to the dignity of a king of England to perform, and therefore deputed the oflBce to prince William, who was then invested with the duchy, and received the oath of fealty from the states.^ The prince solemnly espoused his betrothed bride Alice, the daughter of Fulk earl of Anjou, June 1119. King Henry changed her name to Matilda, out of respect, it is said, for the memory of his mother ; but more probably from a tender regard for his deceased consort, Matilda of Scotland, the love of his youth, and the mother of his children. The marriage was celebrated at Lisieux,' in the county of Bur- grnidy ; and the prince remained in Normandy with his young bride, attended by all the youthftd nobility of England and the duchy, passing the time gaily with feasts and pageants till the 25th of November, in the year 1120; when king Henry (who had been nearly two years absent from his kingdom) proceeded with him and an illustrious retinue to Barfleur,* where the king and his heir embarked for England the same night, in separate ships. Fitz -Stephen, the captain of the 'Blanche Nef,' (the finest vessel in the Norman navy,) demanded the honour of con- veying the heir of England home, because his father had ' Holinshed. ^ Saxon Annals. ^ Ordericus Vitalis. Tyrrell. ■• Ordericus Vitalis. gram pany, menc( incniit ship^s most p Prince the flee his swet the swif oblige h their mi^ speed of rushing t she sudde such impe to sink. several of 1 cleared the ^^^Y; but of Perche, "oving lam nianded the moment it that it insta perished, ani the '\vhite si ^is person ^hoehmbed rescued by sq luckless 'whil »d himsel ^erthould on ^^■^h the heir , '^^o iad witnj MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ,„ commanded the Mom fi,« i.- , Conauen,, to the 2^ '^'^"^.'"^^ ^^^ the granted; and the prince wiA t • ^" l»''t'on wm W, entered the fntd 'bark whfc f L*?*^ ''''™*'» «>"'- menced their voy,^ ^,h J^^^* l-Kht hearts, and com- mca,,t,o«dy orfe^ ,h,^ ^"^^ »yal passenger ZLh**" «^ "^^ ''°'«t -md their might to the o^Ll^^^^f' '" 't^t^h -ith all sp«d of his light bark. mUe Z .7 ^«<^'o«.te the ™l.mg through the water ^U the 1 i""*" ^'^' '''« "he suddenly struck on a Zk r^nT^l ^^'">^ "^'odty, 3«ch impetuosity, that she^LTsf^ *f 'Catte-raze,' with to -k. AH was instant ht^«7!:'P'»''^' -»-! began ™, however, let down and thT fnftsion. The boat -end of his youthW rl^rs'"" ^" "' ^■'^''««'' -^^ cleared the ship, might W 3m^. "t" '*' '"'» ''^^S •"fety; but the cries of his me^^ *' ^°™'" ^^ore i| «f Perehe, who distinctly c^^^^^ 'f '' Matilda com.teS "-"ng him with a tenderimpuL^ ^ "™' ^"^ »»"«. «nded the boat back to tato w i 'T^'^'"'' ^"^ «»"- «ment it neared the ship such ^ k ^"*'"^»°''tely, the tkat It instantly sank witHte n.^- .""" '^'"^ »*» it, perished, and of the tCe htn°"" '''^' -Jl on boarf *e 'white sWp,' but onTsoT^^Jf ^T >7?^ ^"""^"^^ - 111* person was a poo» butcher^'^ *'" ^^ *™^ tale. * climbed to the top of them J 7"' "^'^'^ ^erthould, ■^ued by some fisheLl CsT ,"^ ^ "«« ™™i"S luckless 'white ship' Z " *^''-^'«P''». the master of the P0rt«l himself fo?' sZe h^Tr"' '"'* ^'"""^ -P" Berthould on the mast, mdl^„T.'^:. "*'*'"'' **" ^^ ^-'^ «h the heir of England hJZ^ . "T' '"''^<' ^^ the boat * had witnessed Ihe^S^,;^^!;!: 'f"''™ *'«' •""<*» whote ^catastrophe, replied "that all ! . I il ! I h^ A^^ !P iv- I i in J ' .!{ I .; ' ■ 1 ! 164 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. :!:/'i m ' 1 f' M ^^ \ l^lv mi i i 'if were drowned and dead," the strong man's force failed him ; he ceased to battle with the waves, and sank to rise no more.' The report of this disaster reached England the next day. Theobald of Blois, the king's nephew, was the first who heard it ; but he dared not inform his uncle of the calamity which had rendered his house desolate. The S ixon chronicler saya, there perished another son of Henry and Matilda, named Richard, and also Richard, a natural son of the king , Matilda, his natural daughter, countess rf Perche; Richard earl of Chester, his cousin, with his bride, the young lady Lucy of Blois, daughter of Henrjr's sister Adela, and the flower of the juvenile nobihty, who are mentioned by the Saxon chronicler as a multitude of " incomparable folk." King Henry had reached England with his fleet in safety, and for three days was permitted to remain in a state of the most agonizing suspense and uncertainty respecting the fate of his children. No one choosing to become the bearer of such evil tidings, at length Theobald de Blois, finding it could no longer be concealed, instructed a favourite little page to communicate the mournful news to the bereaved father ; and the child, entering the royal presence with a sorrowful step, knelt down at Henry's feet, and told him that the prince and all on board the ' white ship' were lost. The great Henry was so thunderstruck with this dreadful news, that he staggered and sank upon the floor in a deep swoon, in which state he remained for many hours. "When he recovered, he broke into the bitterest lamentations, magnifying at the same time the great qualities of his heir and the loss he had sustained ; and the chromclers all agree that he was never again seen to smile." The body of prince William was never found, though diligent ' Thierry's Anglo-Normans. ' King Henry's grief for the loss of his heu* did not prevent him from endeavouring to make some advantage of it in a worldly point of v'ew, by wrongfully detaining the dower of his young widow, who had escaped the fiite of the unfortunate prince, by sfuling in the king's whip instead of the fatal ' Blanche Nof.* She returned to her father, Fulk earl of Ai\jou, and remaining constant to the memory of William the Atheling, was veiled a nun in the abbey of Fontevraud. The earl of Anjou was so highly exasperated at the detention of her api)anagc, that he immediately gave her sister in marriage to William Clito, the son of Robert of Normandy, and assisted him to assert his claims against Henry.- Malmesbury's Chronicles. search as aaTj instead monstei It is the cats poetic eJ ture reig But God be.' Am crown of ocean. ] the Norm In the spirit so ] selfish con the son of * Brompton should be renit that the Saxon the Norman hi fwsertions of oii collating ftote, * Matilda's d Henry's heiress, office in EngJan, the two succeed] temporaries, tha] chronological sti we must refer oh this princess, ftJ the crown of Ed v,.';f, MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 1C5 scotcIl was Vhado for it along tlie shores. It was regarded as ov ftngiuentation of the calamity, that his delicate form, instead'' of receiving Christian burial, became a prey to the monsters of the deep.' It is Henry of Iliuitiiigdon who exults so uncharitably over the catastrophe of the * white ship/ in the following burst of poetic eloquence : — " The proud youth ! he thought of his fu- ture reign, when he said * he would yoke the Saxons like oxen.' But God said, ' It shEdl not be, thou impious one; it shall not be.' And so it has come to pass : that brow has worn no crown of gold, but has been dashed against the rocks of the ocean. It was Gk)d himself who would not that the son of the Norman should again see England."' In the last act of his life, William Atheling manifested a spirit so noble, so tenderly compassionate, and forgetful of selfish considerations, that we can only say it was worthy of the son of Matilda, the good queen.* * William of Malmesbury. * Brotnpton also Bpeaks unfkvourably of this iinfortunato young princo; but it should be reniembered that England was a divided nation at tlmt period, and that the Saxon chroniclers wrote in the very gall of bitterness agiunst those whom the Norman historians commended. Implicit credence Ih not to be given to the lueertions of cither. It is only by reading both, and carei\illy weighing and collating faot«, that the truth is to be elicited. • Matilda's only surviving cliild, the empress Matilda, thus becamt* king Henry's heiress-presumptive. She was the first female who cMmed the regal office in England. The events of her life are so closely interwoven with those of the two succeeding queens, Adelicia, and Matilda of Boulogne, her royal con> temporaries, that to avoid the tedium of repetition, and also to preserve the chronological stream of history in unbroken unity, which is an important object, we must refer oiu- readers to the lives of those queens (or the personal history of this princess, Arom whom her present mtyesty queen Victoria derives her title to the crown of England. rtf -I .'■ » I >■ ■ (.•' »>.-., ,, ■ul I .1 ' t- - ,i f II i'i ! h \ *n f p^ Mi: 1 am ftr.J ii- ' : U . '■^tt i|L UA. . ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, SURNAMED THE FAIR MAID OF BRABANT; SECOND QUEEN OF HENRY I. Adelicia's beauty — Imperial descent from Charlemagne — Standard embroidered by Adelicia — Preserved at Liege — Adelicia sought in marriage by Henry I.— Richly dowered — Embarks for England with Henry — King and queen parishioners of archbishop of Canterbury — Violence of archbishop — He crowns Adelicia — Eulogies on her beauty — Her prudence — Encouragement of literature — Empress Matilda — Adelicia childless — Empress Matilda kept in Adelicia's chamber — Difficult position of the queen — Friendship with her step-dauglitcr — Second marriage of the empress — Adelicia's coiyugal virtues — Matilda returns to England — Remains with the queen — Birth of prince- Hemy— Death of king Henry — Adelicia's respect for his memory — Her troubadour writes king Henry's life — Her second marriage — William Albini — Her dowry- Palace — Receives empress Matilda — Message to king Stephen — Conjugal hap. piness of Adelicia — Her charter — Her portrait — Her children — Charitable foundations at Arundel — Her younger brother abbot of Affligham — Adelicia retires to AfHigham nunnery, in Flanders — Dies there — Record of her death — Buried — Her issue by Albini — Adelicia ancestor of two of our queens. This princess, to whom contemporary chroniclers have given the name of " the fair Maid of Brabant," is one of the most obscure characters in the illustrious catalogue of Enghsh queens. Tradition, and her handmaid Poetry, have, hovrever, spoken bright things of her ; and the surviving historical records of her life, though brief, are all of a nature tending to coufinn the good report which the verses of the Proven9als have pre- served of her virtues and accompUshments. Descended, through both her parents, from the imperial Carlovingian line,' Adehcia boasted the most illustrious blood ' Howard Memorials. --^)3.-?> .3 • i i \ 4 \ }: ..4 ^^ death given most leens. )oken fdsof ufina pre- iperial 1 blood »■" 'I (S'^^/^^^^/y .j C'.uuvn. itii. //"S* I; I P: li Sf^ ! t jU I HI" I V 1 1 i li ', if i '^ i! : 1 II 1 1 '^^^Pl \t, Jl ■ BkBf^ '& ' hp< ^^RBkIi f. 1 ' Sk ^JHiB * . . II i* % % A.DELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 167 in Chiistendom. SJio ) the eldest daughter of Godfrey of Louvaine, duke of BrtbiOit and Lotheir (or Lower Lorraine), and Ida countess of Namur.' Her father, as the great- grandson of Charles, brother to Lothaire of France, was the lawful representative of Charlemagne. The male posterity of the unfortunate Charles having been cut off by Hugh Capet, the rights of his house became vested in the descendants of his eldest daughter, Gerberga.'' Lambert, the son of Gerberga, by her marriage with Robert of Louvaine, was the father of Godfrey. Ermengarde, the second daughter of Charles, married Albert, the third count of Namur: and their sole daughter and heiress, Ida (the mother of AdeUda) became the wife of her cousin, Grodfrey of Louvaine, sumamed Bar- batus, or ' the bearded,' because he had made a vow never to shave his beard till he had recovered Lower Lorraine, the patrimony of his ancestors. In this he succeeded in the year 1107, after which he triumphantly displayed a smooth chin, in token that he had frdfiUed his obligation. He finally obtained from his subjects and contemporaries the more honourable appellation of Godfrey the Great.^ The dominions of this prince were somewhat more extensive than the modem kingdom of Belgium, and were governed by him with the greatest wisdom and abiUty. From this illustrious lineage Adelicia inherited the distin- guished beauty and fine talents for which the Lorraine branch of the house of Charlemagne has ever been celebrated. She was also remarkable for her proficiency in feminine acquire- ments. A standard which she embroidered in silk and gold for her father, during the arduous contest in which he was engaged for the recovery of his patrimony, was celebrated throughout Europe for the exquisite taste and skiU displayed by the royal Adelicia in the design and execution of her patriotic achievement.* This standard wao unfortunately captured at a battle near the castle of Duras, in the year 1129, by the bishop of Liege and the earl of Limbourg, the ' Betham's Genealogical Tables. Buknet, or Bukein'n, Troph^ da Brabant. Howard's Memorials of the Howard Family. ^ Ibid. ' Buknet's Trophies. Howard Memorials. ^ Ibid. '' .1 1 ! i.. i; ■/ •. '^y>?!: I 91^ m I i - k m ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE; old competitor of Godfrey for Lower Lorraine : it was placed by them, as a memorial of their trixmiph, in the great church of St. Lambert, at Liege, and was for centuries carried in procession on Rogation-days through the streets of that city. The church of St. Lambert was destroyed during the French revolution ; yet the learned editor of the Howard Memorials fondly indulges ia the hope that this interesting relic of his royal ancestress's industry and patriotic feelings may yet exist, destined, perhaps, hereafter to be brought to light, like the long-forgotten Bayeux tapestry. The plain, where this memorable trophy was taken, is still called ' the field of the Standard." -'d;! l) /.) ^ 't ■•>*'■ n,''- •..!'■ ;';m; •; ' : .•, The fame of the fair maid of Brabant* s charms and accom- plishments, it is said, induced the confidential advisers of Henry I. of England to recommend their sorrow-stricken lord to wed her, in hopes of dissipating that corroding melancholy which, since the loss of his children in the fatal * white ship,' had become constitutional to him. The temper of this monarch had, in fact, grown so irascible, that his greatest nobles feared to enter his presence, and it is said that, in his causeless transports of rage, he indulged himself in the use of the most unkingly terms of vituperation to all who approached liim f which made his peers the more earnest in their counsels for him to take a second wife. Adehcia of Louvaine was the object of his choice. Henry's ostensible motive in contracting this marriage was the hope of njale posterity, to inherit the united realms of England and Normandy.' He had been a widower two years when he entered into a treaty with Godfrey of Louvaine for the hand of his beautiful daughter. Robert of Gloucester, when recording the fact in his rhyming Chronicle, says, ;. r " He knew no woman so fair as she , Was seen on middle earth." ' The name of this princess has been variously written by * Brutsholme. ' Speed. Bapin. ^ " It was the death of this youth," says William of Malmeshury, speaking of the death of the Athcling, "which induced king Henry to renounce tk celibacy he had cheiished since Matilda's death, in the hope of ftiture heirs by a new consoi't." ADELICIA OP LOUVAINE. 169 the chroniclers of England, Normandy, Germany, and Brabant, as Adeliza, Alicia, Adelaide, Aleyda or Adelheite, A^hich means ' most noble/ In the Saxon Chronicle she is called iEtheHee, or Alice. Mr. Howard of Corby-castle, the immediate descendant of this queen, in his Memorials of the Howard Family,* calls her Adelicia, for the best of reasons, — ^her name is so written in an original charter of the 31st of Henry I., confirming her grant of lands for the foundation of an hospital of lepers at Fugglestone, near Wilton, dedicated to St. Giles ; which deed, with part of the seal-appendant, is still preserved in the corporation chest at Wilton. The Proven9al and Walloon poets, of whom this queen was a munificent patroness, style her Alix la Belle, Adelais, and Alise, varying the syllables according to the structure of the verses which they composed in her honour, — a licence always allowed to poetical writers ; therefore the rhymes of the trou- badours ought not to be regarded as the shghtest authority iu settling the point. Modem historians generally speak of this princess by her Latinized name of Adeliza, but her learned descendant's version of her name is that which ought to be adopted by her biographer. There is no authentic record of the date of Adelicia's birth. Mr. Howard supposes she was about eighteen years old at the period of her marriage with Henry I., and it is certain that she was in the bloom of her beauty at the time he sought her hand. ■> j i ' ^ - • .'' In proportion to the estimation in which the charms of Adehcia were held did Henry fix her dower, which was so munificent, that the duke of Louvaine, her father, scrupled not to consign her to her affianced lord, as soon as the con- tract of marriage was signed. This ceremony took place on the 16th of April, 1120, but the nuptials were not celebrated till some months after this period. King Henry, in person, conducted his betrothed bride to England in the autumn of this year/ They landed about Michaelmas. Some histo- ' Through the courtesy of his grace the late duke of Norfolk, I have been favoured with a copy of this iuestimable volume, which, as it is printed for private use, is inaccessible to the public, but is most important as a hook of reference to the writers of royal and noble biographies. ' Henry of Huntingdon. White Kennet, '■ ■ Ji |l luV, ^v .. ! I I I h I'M ? i f ii in !:! MlP I' : I ^ ! ; t ■. i', • '1 170 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. rians affirm that the royal pair were married at Ely, soon after their arrival ; but if so, it must have been a private arrange- ment, for the nuptials were publicly solemnized at Windsor on the 24th of January, 1121 ;' having been delayed in conse- quence of a singular dispute between the archbishop of Can- terbury and the bishop of Salisbmy, which estabhshed a point too important to be omitted in a history embracing, in a peculiar manner, the habits and customs of royalty. Roger le Poer the bishop of Salisbury, that notable preacher of short sermons claimed the right to marry the royal pair because the fortress of Windsor was within his diocese. This right was disputed by the aged Ralph, archbishop of Canterbury, who was a great stickler for the prerogatives of his office ; and an ecclesiastical council was called, in which it was decided, that wherever the king and queen might be within the realm of England, they were the parishioners of the archbishop of Canterbury. Accordingly, the ceremony was triumphantly performed by the venerable primate, though bowed down by so many infirmities, that he appeared like one tottering on the verge of the grave. This affijrded Henry an excuse for deputing the honoiu- of crowning him and his bride on the following day, at West- minster, to his favourite prelate Roger le Poer, the bishop of Salisbury above named, to console him for his disappoint- ment with regard to the hymeneal office. But the archbishop was not to be thus put off. The right of crowning the king and queen he considered a still more important branch of his archiepiscopal prerogatives than that of marrying them, and, malgre his age and paralysis, he hastened to the abbey, where the ceremonial had commenced at an unusually early hour. Roger le Poer, his rival, having, according to his old custom, made unprecedented expedition in the performance of his office, had already placed the royal diadem on the monarch's brow, when archbishop Ralph sternly approached the royal chair, and asked Henry, " Who had put the crown on his head ?"* The king evasively replied, " If the ceremony had not been properly performed, it could be done again." On which, as some chroniclers assert, the choleric old primate * Eadmcr. ' Eadmer. Speed. gave th smote t raised it turned i all due : This mo January Thebi ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 171 gave the king such a smart blow with his crosier, that he smote the crown from his head;' but Eadmer says, he only raised it up by the strap which passed under the chin, and so turned it off his head. He then proceeded to replace it with all due form, and afterwards crowned the fair young queen. This most extraordinary coronation took place on Sunday, January 30th, 1121. The beauty of the royal bride, whom Piers of Langtoft calls " The May withouten vice," made a great impression on the minds of the people, which the sweetness of her manners, her prudence, and mild virtues, strengthened in no slight degree. It was on the occasion of her bridal coronation that Henry of Huntingdon, the chro- nicler, addressed to Adelicia those celebrated Latin verses, of which Camden has given us the following translation :^ " When Adeliza's name should grace my song, A sudden wonder stops the Muse's tongue ; Your crown and jewels, when compared to you. How poor your crown, how pale your jewels show f Take off your robes, your rich attire remove. Such pomps may load you, hut can ne'er improve ; In vain your costly ornaments are worn. You they obscure, while others they adorn. Ah ! what new lustres can these trifles give. Which all their beauty from your charms receive ? Thus I your lofty praise, yoxur vaat renown. In lowly verse am not ashamed to have shown, Oh, be you not ashamed my services to own !" The wisdom of this lovely girl-queen early manifested itself in the graceful manner by which she endeavoured to conform herself to the tastes of her royal lord, in the encouragement of the polished arts, and the patronage of literature. Henry's love for animals had iaduced him to create an extensive » Speed. ^ " Anglorum regina, tuos Adelida, decores. Ipsa referre parans Musa stupor riget. Quid diadema tibi pulcherrima P quid tibi gemmae ? Pallet gemma tibi, nee diadema nitet. Deme tibi cultus, cultum natura ministrat Non exomari forma beata potest Omamenta cave, nee quicquam limiinis inde Accipis ; ilia micant lumine olara tuo, Non puduit modicas de magnis dicere laudes Ne pudeat dominam, te precor, esse meam." ! f ^ I 1 ''\ i ; m 1 ! 'IN r \\] i ■m-:W Li 1 • 1 ; , 1- If i i . ^ -I: i'y. 4M 172 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. menagerie at Woodstock, as we have seen, during the life of Lis first queen, Matilda of Scotland, who was probably well acquainted with natural history. The youthful Adelicia evidently knew nothing of zoology previously to her marriage with Henry Beauclerc ; but, like a good wife, in order to adapt herself to his pursuits, she tiumed her attention to that study, for we find Philippe de Thuan wrote a work on the nature of animals for her especial instruction. The poetical naturalist did not forget to allude to the personal charms of his royal patroness in his courtier-like dedication : — ' Philippe de Thuan, en Franceise raisun, Ad estrait bestiure un livre de granunaire. Pour lour d'une feme ki mult est belle, Alix est imm^, reine est corun>5e, Reinc est d'Engletcrre, sa ame nait ja guero." M' ' .1 i ! |.|[> " Philippe de Thuan, in plain French, Has written an el ^mentary book of animals. For the praise and instruction of a good and beauteous woman, Who is the crowned queen of England, and named Alix." One of the most approved historians of her day, the author of the Waltham-abbey MSS.,* states that he was appointed a canon of Waltham-abbey through the patronage of queen Adelicia. This chronicler is the same person who has so eloquently described the dismal search made for Harold's body, after the battle of Hastings. Adelicia was deprived of the society of her royal husband a few weeks after their marriage, in consequence of a formidable inbreak of the Welsh, who had entered Cheshire, and com- mitted great ravages. Henry went in person to the defence of his border counties, and having defeated the invaders, pur- sued them far into the country. During this campmgn his life was in some peril : while separated from the main body of his troops, in a narrow defile among the mountains, he fell into an ambush, and at the same time an arrow, which was aimed at him from the heights above, struck him on the breast, but rebounded from his armour of proof. Henry, who probably did not give his Cambrian foes credit for that skill in archery for which his Norman followers were famed, > See Cottonian MSS. Julius, D. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 173 ii n intimated his suspicions of treachery among his own people by exclaiming, " By our Lord's death ! it was no Welsh hand that shot that arrow.'" This narrow escape, or perhaps a ^h of rejoining Adelicia at Westminster, induced the king to conclude a peace Avith the Welsh. A very brief season of / domestic intercourse was, however, permitted to the royal j pair. Fulk, earl of Anjou, having espoused his younger daughter Sybil to William Clito, the earls of Mellent and Montfort, with a considerable party of the baronage of Nor- mandy, openly declared themselves in favour of that prince, the heir of their lawful duke, Robert Courthose. Henry I. was keeping the Easter festival, with his beautiful young queen, at Winchester, when the news that Fulk of Anjou had joined this formidable confederacy reached him. He sailed for Normandy in April 1123 j and Adelicia was left, as his former queen, Matilda of Scotland, had often been before her, to hold her lonely coiirts during the protracted absence of her royal consort, and to exert herself for the pre- servation of the internal peace of England, while war or state policy detained the king in Normandy. Adelicia, following the example of her popular predecessor Matilda, " the good queen/' in all that was deserving of imitation, conducted herself in a manner calculated to win the esteem and love of the nation, — ^using her queenly influence for the establishment of good order, religion, and refinement, and the encouragement of learning and the arts. ' ' ' When Henry had defeated his enemies at the battle of Terroude, near Rouen, he sent for his young queen to come to him. Adelicia obeyed the summons, and sailed for Nor- mandy. She arrived in the midst of scenes of horror, for Henry took a merciless vengeance on the revolted vassals of Normandy who were so unfortunate as to fall into his hands. His treatment of the luckless troubadour knight, Luke de Barr^,' though the circumstances are almost too dreadful for repetition, bears too strongly on the maimers and customs of the twelfth century to be omitted. Luke de Barre had, according to the testimony of Ordericus Vitahs, been on terms ■ \ I I ; i 1 iP! ^1 1 \m l-^ Chron. WallL ' Sismondi. ,;. .-II^'! '.:^vS 174 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. . i P ii ,i v [J.. ,i vm f- J HU 1 of the greatest familiarity with Henry Beauclerc in the days of their youth, but, from some cause, had joined the revolt of the earl of Mellent in the late insurrection; and the said carl, and all the confederate peers allied against Henry's government in Normandy, had been wonderfully comforted and encomraged by the sirventes, or war-songs, of Luke. These songs were provokingly satirical ; and, being personally levelled against Henry, contained, we should suppose, some passages which involved a betrayal of confidence, for Henry was so bitterly incensed, that, forgetftd of their former inti- macy, he barbarously condemned the luckless poet to lose his eyes on a scaffold, by the hands of the public executioner. This sentence was greatly lamented by the court, for Luke de Barre was not only a pleaaant and jocose companion, but a gentleman of courage and honour. The earl of Flanders interceded with his royal kinsman for the wretched victim.* "No, sir, no," replied Henry; "for this man, bemg a wit, a bard, and a minstrel, forsooth ! hath composed many ribald songs against me, and sung them to raise the hoi*se-laughs of mine enemies. Now it hath pleased God to dehver him into mine hands, punished he shall be, to deter others fiova. the like petulance." The sentence there- fore took place, and the hapless poet died of the wounds he received in struggling with the executioner. The Proven9al annalists, however, declare that the gallant troubadour avoided the execution of Henry's sentence by dashing his head against the wall, which caused his death.' So much for the punish- ment of libels in the twelfth century ! Queen Adelicia returned to England September 1126, accom- panied by king Henry and his daughter, the empress Matilda, the heiress-presumptive of England, then a widow in her twenty- fomth year. Matilda, after the foneral of her august spouse, took possession of his imperial diadem, which she brought to Eng- land, together with a treasure which, in those days, was by some considered of even greater importance, — the hand of St. James. Matilda was reluctant to leave Germany, where she was splendidly dowered, and enjoyed a remarkable share of ' Ordericus Vitelis. ^ Ibid. Sismondi. populari her pruc tlie kin^ sort froi their em King been ma daughter carried h Henry su empress sumptive had occur one supre position w There was, from holdi to the rep Iiad been s descent froi "That thi come to be would ma sion as qu male heir." able passag first wile, ]V The peo position, at tocracy, assi the liigli ai Stephen, eai the third so: of Blois,) w daughter of to maintain ' Ge V ! ADELICIA OF LOUVAINB. 175 popularity. The princes of the empire were so much charmed at her prudent conduct and stately demeanour, that they entreated the king, her father, to permit her to choose a second con- sort from among their august body, promising to elect for their emperor the person on whom her choice might fall.' King Henry, however, despairing of a male heir, as he had been married to Adelicia six years, reclaimed his widowed daughter from the admiring subjects of her late consort, and carried her with him to England. Soon after their arrival, Henry summoned a parhament for the purpose of causing the empress Matilda to be acknowledged as the heiress-pre- sumptive to the crown. This was the first instance that had occurred, since the consolidation of the Heptarchy under one supreme head, of a female standing in that important position with regard to the succession of the English crown. There was, however, neither law nor precept to forbid a female from holding the regal office, and Henry failed not to set forth to the representatives of the great body of the people, who had been summoned on this important business, his daughter's descent from their ancient line of sovereigns ; telling them, " That through her, who was now his only heir, they should come to be governed again by the royal Enghsh blood, if they would make oath to secure to her, after his death, the succes- sion as queen of England, in case of his decease without a male heir."" It is, doubtless, on the authority of this remark- able passage in Henry's speech, that historians have called his first wile, Matilda of Scotland, the heiress of the Saxon hne. The people of England joyfuUy acceded to Henry's pro- position, and the nobles and prelates of the Norman aris- tocracy, assembled in council on this occasion, swore fealty to the high and mighty lady Matilda as their future sovereign. Stephen, earl of Mortagne, the king's favourite nephew, (being the third son of the Conqueror's fourth daughter, Adela countess of Blois,) was the first who bent his knee in homage to the daughter of his liege lord as the heiress of England, and swore to maintain her righteous title to the thi'one of her royal father, ' Gem. \V. Malmesbury. Sir John Hayward. Speed. ' Henry of Huntingdon. W, Mahnesbury. Gem. r i U. : 1 I' I I- J.: . I i ;| i ; V i I [■} I i lili I 176 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 1 ft Step! ^ dr the handMom^ man in Europe, and remarknble |iMf hits rtu* carriage aiifl hiiiKl/tly prowess. He bore great •wBy in the ciouncilH of his royal iinclei and was a general favourite of the nobles of England tm(\ Normandy. It has Wi. ^aid, withal, tl. 't his fine person and graceful manners mttde a deep imprfssioii on the heait of the widowed heiress of iCHj^limd. The ro»jal family kept their Christmas this year at Windsor,' at which time king Henry, in token of his esteem for queen Adelicia, gave her the whole county of Salop. The empress Matilda did not grace the festivities by her presence, but remained in the deepest seclusion, " abiding continually," says Matthew Paris, " m the chamber of Adelicia -" by which it appears that, notwithstanding her high rank and matronly dig. nity as the widow of an emperor, the heiress of England had no establishment of her own. This retirement, lasting for several months, gave rise to mysterious rumours as to the cause of her being hidden from the people, who had so recently been required to swear fealty to her as their future sovereign. By some it was said "that the king, her father, suspected her of having accelerated the death of her late husband, the emperor, or of causing him to be spirited away from his palace."' But that was evidtsntly u groundless surmise ; for "W. Gemeticiensis, a contemporary chronicler, bears testimony to '' her prudent and gracious behaviour to her imperial spouse, which," he observes, " was one of the causes which won the esteem of the German princes, who were urgent in their entreaties to her royal father for her restoration." This Henry porUuaciously refused, repeating, " that she was liis only heir, ^ Saxon Annala. ' Ever since the miserable death of his uip ppy&ther, Henry IV . flj (',11- 'w Henry V. had been subject to great mental disquiet, from the ' perpetually deprived Iiim of rest. " One night he rose up from liiu ttide of tho empress, and taking his staff In hand, with naked feet he wandered forth iiito the darkness, clad only in a woollen garment, and was never again seen in his own p''»-f'," lliia wild tale is related by Hoveden, Qiraldus, and Higdcn, and TariouB a; t)<. manuscript chronicles, to say nothing of Trevisa, who adds, by way of <:et]„ ' *< .;he lecend, thr\t " the conscience-stricken emperor iied to England, ';',}i. ^ at Wjitchestcr he became a hermit, changing his name to ♦ God's-ca)".' Oj' • >e iVHl of Gwi. He lived in daily penance for the space of ten years, ivuai Wi < h^ied in the < .u,edral church of St. Werburga the Virgin." a< v* as a m< ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 177 and must dwell among her own peoj)lo." Yet, early in the following year, ho again bestowed her in marriugL', without the consent of his subjeets in England, and iloridedly against her own incUnation, on a foreign prince, whom .slu j^^irdod with the most ineffable scorn as her inferior iu (!very point ot' v iew We have seen that, in her tender iui'iUKV, Matilda wiuj used as a political puppet by her parent to advance his own interest, without the sUglitest consideration for her hap])ines8. J%en the vic^ im was led a smiling sacrifice to the altar, un- consciouf f tl)o jioyless destiny to which parental ambition had doomf lii^» ^><>w the case was different; it was no meek infuiit. ')U* . royal matron, who had shared the imperial throne ,)! \ Kaisei, and received for years the homage of vassal fi COS. Moreover, she whom Henry endeavoured to compel to an abhorrent marriage of state, possessed a mind as in- flexible as his own. The disputes between the king and his daughter must have arisen to a very serious height before he took the unpopular step of subjecting her to personal restraint, by confining her to the apartments of his queen. Matthew Paris, indeed, labours to convince us that there was nothing unreasonable in this circumstance. " Where," says he, " should an empress live rather than with a queen, a daughter than M'ith a mother, a fair lady, a widow and the heir of a great nation, than where her person might be safest from danger, and her conduct from suspicion?" The historian, however, forgets that Matilda was the step-daughter of the queen ; that Adelicia was not older than herself, and, firom the acknowledged gentleness of her disposition, unlikely to assume the slightest maternal control over the haughty heii'ess of England. Adelicia must have felt herself very delicately situated in 1 his business , and it appears probable that she ai I \* as a mediator between the contending parties, conducting herself rather as a loving sister than an ambitious step-dame. The accomphshed editor of the Howard Memoritds infers that a very tender friendship existed between the empress Matilda and Adelicia through life, which probably had conunenced before ' the fair maid of Brabant ' was selected from among the princesses of Europe to share the cro\Mi of England with VOL. I. N li 4 ■:! 1 i [i \ li ! * i n «! 'i 178 ADELICTA OF LOTTVAINE. 'i i: rS* Henry I. ; for Matilda's imperial spouse, the emperor Hemry V. had heen actively instrumental iu assisting Godfrey Barbatus the father of Adehcia, in the recovery of Lower Lorraine, — an obligation which the Louvaine princess certainly endeavouied to repay to his widow.' Adehcia's uncle, Wido of Louvaine afterwards pope Calixtus II., was at one period archbishop of Vienne, and it is even possible that Henry's attention was first attracted to the fair maid of Brabant at the court of his daughter ; and the previous intimacy between the ladies may account for the fact that the haughty Matilda lived on such good terms with her step-mother, for Adehcia appears to have been the only person with whom she did not quarrel. The prince to whom Henry I. had pledged the hand of his perverse heiress, was Geoffrey Plantagenet, the eldest son of his old antagonist, Fulk eai'l of Anjou, and brother to the widowed princess who had been espoused to Matilda's brother WiUiam the Atheling. Geoffrey had been the favourite com- panion of king Henry I. when on the continent. His fine person, his elegant manners, great bravery, and, above all, his learning, made his society very agi'eeable to a monarch who still possessed these excellences in great perfection.^ Some of the French clironiclers declare this Geoflrey to be the first person that bore the name of Plantf^enet, from putting in his helmet a plume of the flowering broom when he went to hunt in the woods. Motives of policy inclined Henry to this alHance. Fulk of Anjou, who had hitherto supported the claims of his gallant young son-in-law, WiUiam Clito, to the dukedom, was willing to abandon his cause, provided Henry would marry Matilda to his heir. This Henry had engaged to do, Avithout the slightest attention to his daughter's feelings. His favourite nephew, Stephen of Blois, is said to have rendered himself only too dear to the imperial widow, although at that time a married man. The ceremony of betrothment between Geoffrey of Anjou and the reluctant Matilda took place on Whit-Sunday, 1127, and she was, after the festivities of Whitsuntide were ' Howard Memorials. Clironiclcs of Brabant. * 1126 to 1127. Cliron. de Nonnand. and Script. Rer. France. over, cc earl of Eichmo The] mandy i heralds! Rouen, t ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 179 over, conducted into Normandy by her half-brother, Robert earl of Gloucester, and Brian, son of Alan Fergeant, earl of Richmond, with great pomp. The feasts and pageants that attended her arrival in Nor- mandy were prolonged during three weeks. On the first day, heralds in grand costume went through the streets and squares of Rouen, shouting at every crossway this singular proclamatioa : "Thus saith King Henry! "Let no man here present, whether native or foreigner, rich or poor, high or low, warrior or rustic, be so bold as to stay away from the royal rejoicings ; for whosoever shall not take a part in the games and diversions, shall be considered guilty of an offence to our lord the king.'" King Henry had given positive commands to Matilda and her illustrious escort, that the nuptials should be solemnized by the archbishop of Rouen immediately on her arrival ;* but he was himself compelled to undertake a voyage to Normandy, in August, to see the marriage concluded, which did not take place till the 26th of that month ;^ from which we may reasonably infer that the reluctant bride paid very little atten- tion to his directions. The affair was at length, however, accomplished to Henry's satisftiction, more especially as Fulk of Anjou, being called to the throne of Jerusalem by the death of Baldwin II., his father-in-law, resigned his patrimonial territories to his heir. Yet there were many circumstances that rendered this aUiance a fruitful source of annoyance to Henry. The Anglo-Norman barons and prelates were highly offended in the first place, that the king should have presumed to mai'ry the heiress of the realm without consulting them on the subject ; and the English were no less displeased at the open violence that had been put on the inclinations of the descendant of their ancient sovereigns in this foreign marriage. As for Matilda, it should seem that she did not consider her- self by any means bound to practise the duty of obedience, or even of common courtesy, to a husband who had thus been 2*5. ^ Brompton. Malmesbury. Script. R«r. Prance. Siuon Annals. S. Dunebu. Mahnosbury. Huntingdon N 2 ^ Saxon Annals. d H '■tin . I ]■■ ' i '. I i,! iV 1 J80 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. m ;i 1 1.. si- i 1 1 ^1 forced upon her against her own will ; and while she exacted the most unqualified submissions from her luckless help. mate, she perpetually wearied her father with complaints of his conduct. Queen Adehcia was rejoined by king Henry, in the autumn and they kept their Christmas together in London. Early in the following spring, 1128, he was again compelled to embark for Normandy, to defeat the enterprising designs of his nephew William Chto, who, having succeeded to the earldom of Flanders in right of his gi-andmother Matilda, the wife of William the Conqueror, was enabled to assume a more formidable attitude than he had yet done. But this gallant and unfortunate prince met with his death in consequence of a slight wound m the thumb, which he took in disarming a mutinous soldier of his lance. He died six days after,' in the monastery of St. Bertin, July 27, 1128. This formidable rival being now removed, Henry appeared at the summit of his ambition, and was considered the mightiest monarch of the West. He was the husband, withal, of one of the most beautiful and amiable princesses in Europe. I Whether the fair Adelicia loved her royal spouse, history j has not recorded ; but her conduct as a wife, a queen, and • even as a step-mother, was irreproachable. When all circum- stances are considered, it can scarcely be imagined, however, ( that her splendid marriage was productive of happiness to the youthful wife of Henry I. To say nothing of the disparity in years between this illustrious pair, the morbid sorrow of which Henry was the perpetual prey after the loss of his children in the ' white ship,' the irascibility of temper to wliich he gave way in his old age, and his bitter disappointment at the want of ofi^spring from his second marriage, must have been most distressing to the feehngs of his gentle consort. Then the stormy disputes between Henry and his only daughter IMatilda could not have been otherwise than \ery painful to lier, Whatever, however, were the trials with which Adelicia had to ' HiB captive father, Bobert Courthose, it is said, one morning surprised his attendants by weeping piteously, and exclaiming, " My son is dead ! my son is dead !" and related, " that he had in his dreams, that night, seen hun mortally wounded with a lance," — Ordericus Vitalls. contend, and at 1 gloom of distinguis liberal pa Adelici gresses. in those f brought t] either for train. " his Saxon that he s( their rusti< 'one againi and soldie his sleep, i weapon in Grimbald, ] his dreams self by alms of Daniel.'^ knight, Lu] stricken mc mangled fo in his latt Malmesbur • habit of snc loud and haunted wi changed hii and shield enviable sta young and i irith his. when her ro On the d ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 181 contend, she evidently supported them with silent magnanimity, aud at the same time endeavoured to soothe and cheer the gloom of her wayward lord by attracting to the court the most distinguished poets and minstreLs of the age, who repaid her liberal patronage by celebrating her virtues and her charms. Adehcia frequently attended her royal husband on his pro- gresses. Her presence was, doubtless, of medicinal influence in those fearful hours when the pangs of troubled conscience brought the visitations of an evil spirit upon Henry, and sleep either forsook his pillow or brought visionary horrors in its train. " In the year 1130, the king complained to Grimbald, his Saxon physician, that he was sore disquieted of nights, and that he seemed to see a great number of husbandmen with their rustical tools stand about him, threatening him for wrongs 'one against them. Sometimes he appeared to see his knights and soldiers tlireatening him; which sight so feared him in his sleep, that ofttimes he rose undrest out of his bed, took weapon in hand, and sought to kill them he could not find. Grunbald, his physician, being a notably wise man, expounded his dreams by true conjecture, and willed him to reform him- self by alms and prayer, as Nebuchadnezzar did by the counsel of Daniel."' It is probable that the unfortunate troubadour knight, Luke de Barre, was not forgotten by the conscience- stricken monarch, though historians have not recorded that his mangled form was among the ghastly dramatis persorue that, m his latter years, made king Henry's nights horrible. Mahnesbury tells us, moreover, that Henry had an inveterate habit of snoring : " his sleep was heavy, but interrupted with loud and perpetual snoring." Sergei adds, that he was so haunted with the fear of assassination, that he frequently changed his bed, increased his guards, and caused a sword and shield to be constantly placed near him at night, — ^no enviable state of companionship, we should imagine, for the young and innocent being whose fate was indissolubly linked ^\'ith his. It must have been a relief at aU times to Adehcia when her royal husband's presence was required in Normandy. On the death of Adelicia's uncle, pope Calixtus II., a dispute • Stowe. H. Huntingdon. I I ■t v I; il 1 ! 1U It' i [ :!!i I !'[ t , " i! 1. 1 n 1 ^9 ' p '9 f . ' 'H . ^ r! I 182 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. occurring in the election of two rival pontiffs as successors to the papal chair, Henry proceeded to the continent in the year 1130, in the hope of reaping some pohtical advantage from the candidate whose cause he espoused. His arrangements were perfectly satisfactory as to tliat matter, but he was to the last degree harassed by the quanels between his daughter and her unbeloved spouse, Geoffrey of Anjou. After he had thrice adjusted their differences, Matilda, on some fresh offence which she either gave or took, abjm^ed her husband^s company departed from his court, and claimed the protection of the king her father, with whom she once more returned to England ' having, by the eloquence of tears and complaints, succeeded in exciting his indignation against her husband, and persuading him that she was an injured person. The oath of fealty to Matilda, as the heiress of England, was again renewed by the general estates of the nation at Northampton, September 1131.'' The count of Anjou then sent an humble entreaty to his haughty consort to return to him ; the king and parliament seconded his request, and all due submissions having been made by Geoffrey, Matilda was at length induced to obey him.' The following year was remarkable for a destructive fire, which consumed the greatest part of London ;■• but soon after this national calamity, the joyfiil news that the empress Matilda had given birth to a prince* diverted the attention of the royal family from the contemplation of this misfoi-tune, and cast the last gleam of brightness on the declining years of the king. The young prince was named Hcmy, after his royal grandfather, the king of England. The Nonuans called him Fitz-Empress, but king Heniy proudly styled the boy ' R(^r Hovedcn. H. Huntingdon. ^ Mabnesbury. H. Huntingdwi, * A passage from Mezerai casts some liglit on the separation that took plinv between the widowed empress and her new spouse. After the nu})tiiils of this pair, a monk tinne to Matilda, and declared that her late lord, the emperor Henry, had not died at Utrecht, as she and all the world supixised, hut tlmt lie finished his days as a servant in an hospital, which severe penance he liiul sworn to inflict on himself for his heavy sins. When dying at Angers, the dispiisid emjjcror discovered himself to this monk, his confessor, who came to Matilda with the news. In conclusion, it is said the empress attended the death-bod of Henry V., and recognised and acknowledged hiin as the emperor, her fiist husband, * H. Huntmgdon. * B. Diceto. M. Paris. M !l ADELICIA OP LOUVAINE. 183 Fitz-Conqueror, in token of his illustrious descent firm the mightiest monarch of the line.* King Henry summoned his last parliament in 1133, for the purpose of causing this precious child to be included in the oath of fealty, by which the succession to the throne was for the third time secured to his daughter, the empress Matilda. If queen Adelicia had brought him a son, after these repeated acts in favour of his daughter (by a princess whom the majority of the people regarded as the heiress of the royal English line), a civil war respecting the succession must have occurred. The childless state of the beautiful young queen, though so deeply lamented by her royal husband, was one of the causes of the amity and confidence that subsisted between her and her haughty step-daughter. Towards the latter end of this summer, king Henry em- barked on his last voyage for Normandy. The day was remarkable for a total ecUpse of the sun, accompanied with storms and violent commotions of the deep.'' It was so dark, say the annalists of that era, " that on board the royal ship no man might see another's face for some hours." The ecHpse was followed by an earthquake ; and these two phe- nomena were, according to the spirit of the age, regarded as portents of horror and woe, and it was predicted that jfhe king would never return from Normandy.' On a former occasion, when Henry had embarked for England, in June 1131, he was so dismayed by the bursting of a water-spout over the vessel, and the fury of the wind and waves, that, believing his last hour was at hand, he made a penitent acknowledgment of his sins, promising to lead a new life if it should please God to preserve him from the peril of death, and, above all, he vowed to repeal the oppressive impost of ' danegelt ' for seven years, if he were permitted to reach the Enghsh shore in safety.* From this incident we may infer that Henry I. was by no means impressed with his brother Rufus's bold idea, of the security of a king of England from a watery grave ; but ' Saxon Annals. * M. Westminster. ' W. Maknesbury. ' '!■■ ■ KTa Mi: [ ; i n i ill '■, I • ■ H i 1 ' I -^^ Saxon Ani^. i I i i I f ' 184 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. \> i the catastrophe of his children in the fatal * white ship/ had no doubt some eflfect on his mind during these perils on the deep. The summer of 1133 he spent in Normandy, in feasts and rejoicings for the birth of his infant grandson. That event was, however, only the precursor of fresh dissensions between that ill-assorted pair, the empress Matilda and her husband Geofirey Plantagenet. Her late visit to England had renewed the scandalous reports respecting her partiaUty for her cousin Stephen of Blois ; while the birth of a son in the sixth year of her marriage, proved any thing but a bond of union between her and her consort.' There is no reason to suppose that Adehcia was with the king her husband at the time of his death, which took place in Normandy, in the year 1135, at the castle of Lyons, near Rouen, a place in which he much delighted. It is said, that having over-fatigued himself in hunting in the forest of Lyons, he returned much heated, and, contrary to the advice of his courtiers and physicians, made too full a meal on a dish of stewed lampreys, his favourite food, which brought on a violent fit of indigestion, (called by the chroniclers a surfeit,) ending in a fever, of which he died, after an iUness of seven days, at midnight, December 1st, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. He appears to have been perfectly conscious of his approach- ing dissolution, for he gave particular directions respecting liis obsequies to his natural son, Robert earl of Gloucester, whom he charged to take 60,000 marks out of his treasure-chest at Falaise, for the expenses of his foneral and the payment of his mercenary troops.^ He solemnly bequeathed his dominions to his daughter the empress, not without some indiginuit mention of her luckless spouse, Geoffrey of Anjou, his former ileve and bel ami. He absolutely excluded him from any share in his bequests, and with much earnestness constituted his beloved son, earl Robert, the protector of his daughter's rights. Robert of Gloucester gives the following serio-comic account of the royal wilfulness, in partaking of the interdicted food which caused his death : — Saxon Chronicle. * Ordericus VitAiUs. W. Malmcsbury, ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 185 •• When he cairiL' home, ho willed him a lamprey to cat, Though his leeches him forbade, for it was a feeble meat j But he would not them believe, for he loved it well enow, And ate in evil case, for the lamprey it him slew ; For right soon after it into anguish him drew, And he died for his lamprey, unto his owti woe." The noble earls who surrounded the death-bed of king Henry, and listened to his last instructions respecting his funeral, attended his remains from the town of St. Denis le Forment (where he breathed his last) to Rouen; and when they entered that city, they reverently bore the bier, on which the royal corpse was laid, on their shoulders by turns.' Two illuminated portraits of Henry I. are in existence: both represent him as advanced in hfe, and in a melancholy attitude, — supposed to be after the loss of his children. His face is handsome, with high and regular features, his hair curling, but not long. His figure is emaciated in one ; he is clad in a very close dress, with his regal mantle folded about him ; his shoe and stocking all of a piece, and the toe pointed : his crown is ornamented with three trefoils ; his sceptre is a staff wAh. an ornamented head : he is seated on a stone bench, carved in an arcliitectural design. He is represented in the other in the robes he wore at the bridal coronation of Adelicia.* Henry received from his subjects the title of ' the Lion of Justice.' This appellation was drawn from the prophecies of Merlin, then very popular in England. On the accession of every sovereign to the English throne, all his subjects con- sulted these rigmaroles, as naturally as we consult an almanac to know when there is a new moon. " After two dragons,'* says Merlin, " the lion of Justice shall come, at whose roaring the Gallic towers and island serpents shall tremble.' )i ' Henry of Huntingdon. * ITiese portraits exactly agree with the descriptions of the costume from the monastic chronicles : — " They wore close breeches and stockings, all of a piece, made of fine cloth." The pointed shoes were brought in by William liuins, but were first invented by Folque le Rechin (whose surname means 'the quarreller') count of Anjou, to hide his corns and bunions. The queen and women of rank wore gowns and mantles trailing on the ground, llie married women wore an additional robe over the gown, not utJike the sacerdotal garment ; to the girdle aliir^e ix)u:i» or purse was suajxiiided, called an aumonihre. The men wore their hair in long curls, which provoked the wrath of popular preachers : the married women bnuded theirs very closely to the side of the face, or hid it* 111 ii I Hi !!^3i U '11' \ I I I i 1 i ' i • '■ '\ ; 1 !l ■1 i ' ! i H-ff^ l!li: i H hi!-' i i I. ' ' \. M ( , 186 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. V>^. This ' lion of Justice' certainly suffered no one to break the laws but himself. If he is accountable for the villanies of liis purveyors, his standard of justice was not very high : " Tlie king's servants, and a multitude following the royal retinue, took and spoiled every thing the way the king went, there being no discipline or good order taken.' When they could not consume what they foimd in the house they had broken into, they made the owners caiTy it to market and sell it for them ; they burned the provisions, or washed their horses' feet with the ale or mead, or poured the diink on the ground, or otherwise wasted it, so that every one hearing of the king's coming would run away from their houses." "Whenever Henry I. was under any apprehensions from his brother Robert, he regulated his household somewhat better, and kept the lawlessness of his purveyors within bounds.'' Henry carried the art of dissimulation to such a pitch, that his grand justiciary started when he heard the king had praised him, and exclaimed, " God defend me ! The king praises no one but him whom he means to destroy."' The result proved the deep knowledge which the minister had of his royal master's character, as Henry of Huntingdon, his archdeacon, details at length. The removal of Henry's body for interment was delayed for several weeks by tempestuous weather ; but the seas becoming calmer after Christmas, it was put on shipboard, and safely transported to England. His obsequies were celebrated with great magnificence in the abbey church of Reading, which he had built and endowed for that purpose. His nephew and successor, Stephen, assisted at the funeral. Queen Adehcia gave one hundred shillings annually out of her wharf at London, called Queenhythe, for the expenses of a lamp to bmn perpetually before his tomb. On the first anniversary of king Henry's death, the royal widow, accompanied by her brother Josceline of Louvaine, and attended by her almoners, chaplains, and the officers of her household, entered the abbey-church of Reading, where, being received with all due ceremonials of respect by a numerous * Eadrncr. • Malmesbury. ' Henry of Huntingdon. ADEUCIA OF LOUVAINE. 187 train of abbots, priors, and priests, she proceeded in solemn pomp np the aisle, supported by the bishops of Salisbury and Worcester, and gave public testimonial of her regard for the memory of her late consort, by placing with her o^vn hand a rich paU on the altar, in token that she made an oblation to God and the monks of St. Mary, Reading, of her manor of Eastone,' in Hertfordshire (fonnerly given to her by her said lord king Henry,) in order to obtain their prayers for the benefit of his soul, her o\vn soul, the souls of her father and mother, and also for the health of the reigning sovereign lung Stephen, and queen Maud his wife. By a second charter, com- mencing " Ego Adalid regina," she also gave the manor of • Tlic original cliiirtcr is still in excellent preservation, in the possession of Abel Smith, esquire, M. P. Having been favoured with a translation of this curious document, through the kindness of my learned friend. Rouge Croix, I subjoin it, in illustration of the customs of that era, and as affording evidence of the disputed fact, that Josceline of Louvaine joined his royal sister in England : — "Queen Adelib's Chaetee. « Be it knowTi to all the feithful of Holy Church of all England and Nor- mandy, that I, queen Adelidis, wife of the most noble kuig Henry, and daughter of Godefry duke of Lorraine, have granted and given for ever to God and the church of St. Mai-y of Reading, for the health and redemption of the soul of my I9rd the most noble king Henry, and of mine own ; and also for the health of my lord Stephen, by the grace of God king of the English, and of queen Maud his wife, and all the ofi'spring of the most noble king Henry, and of my father and mother and relations, tw well living as dead, my manor of Eastone, which my lord the most noble king Henry gave to me as his queen and wife, in Hertford- shire, with all its appurtenances, to be held as freely and quietly as ever I myself held it best in demesne by the gift of my lord the most noble king Henry ; that is, with sac and soc, and toll and team, and infangthef with the church and the demesne land, with men free and villains, with wood and plain, with meadow and pasture, with waters and mills, with roads and ways, with all the customs and liberties with which my lord held it in demesne, and gave it to me. And this gift I have made on the first anniversary of my lord the most noble king Henry in the same church, by the oftering of a pall which I placed on the altar, in presence of the subscrilxjd j that is, of Roger bishop of Salisbury, Simon bishop of Worcester, Ingulf abbot of Abingdon, Walter abbot of Eynesham, Bernard abbot of St. Michaers-mount, Warine prior of Worcester, Nicholas prior of St. Martin's of Battle, Ralf prior of Osncy, Herman chaplain to the queen, master Serlo the queen's clerk, Adam and Robin Fitzwalter, canons of Waltham, Ralf, Tlieobald, and Roger, clerks of the bishop of Salisbury, Simon, nephew of the bishop of Worcester, Gcrvasc and Bertram, clerks of the bishop of Worcester, Josceline, brother to the same queen.^I'everel of Beauchanip, Milo of Beauchamp, Stephen of Beauchamp, Hugo of Cranionville, Maurice of Windsor and his brother Reginald, Geoffi'ey of Tresgoz, Robert of Tresgoz, John de Falaise, Robert of Calz, Franco of Bruscella, Gozo the queen's constable, Engelbert of the hall, W|lliam of Harfleot, William of Berckeley, Walter of Dene, Baldwin Despenser, Vical the waterman, Warine of Blaucbuiss lading, [Reading]." ! ' i! I , f- \ ■ :>■ I- " M'i^ r! 188 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 'V Staiiton Harcourt, in Oxfordshire, &c. &c., for the expenses of I a solemn service for the repose of lier royal Imsband's soul.' What degree of happiness Adehcia the Fair enjoyed during the fifteen years of queenly splendour which she pasSed as the consort of Henry Beauclerc, no svu-vivhig records toll ; but that she was very proud of his achievements and brilliant talents, we have the testimony of the poetical chronicler wlio conthnied the history of Brut, from William the Conqueror through the reign of William Rufus, It appears, moreover, that the royal dowjiger employed herself during her widow. hood in collecting materials for the history of her mighty lord ; for Gaimar, the author of the History of the Angles, observes, " that if he had chosen to have written of king Henry, he had a thousand things to say, which the trouba- dour called David, employed by queen Adelicia, knew nought about ; neither had he written, nor was the Louvaine queeu herself in possession of them." If the collection of queen Adelicia slfould ever be brought to light, it would no doubt afford a curious specimen of the biographical powers of the illustrious widow and her assistant, troubadour David, M'hose naine has mly been rescued from obli\'ion by the jealousy of a disappointed rival in the art of historical poeti y . Adelicia is much eulogized in the songs of the poets she patronised. A third trouvhe or troubadour, in his dedication of the wondrous voyage of St. Brandon, a sort of spiritual Sindbad, praises her for the good laws she had instituted. But the second queen-consort of Henry I. could have had little opportunity for the exercise of her legislatorial talents, save in the gentle influence of her refined and virtuous example, and the estabUshment of civilizing etiquette. It was one of Adelicia's best points, that she sedulously trod in the st^s of her popular predecessor, Matilda of Scotland, and thus won the following elegant tribute from the author of St. Brandon's voyage : — " Lady Adclais, who queen ' By the grace of heaven hath been • Howard Memorials. ' Cottonian MSS. Vespasian, b. x. Such is the reference for the original, but we have gladly availed ourselves of the editorial labours of a learned contributor to Blackwood's Magazine, 1836, p. 807. ^ she ation ritual But little ■.ve in and icia's ipular bwing Lai, but Iributor ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 189 • Y-crowiic(l, — wlio tliiH liind Imth blest With poHoc and wholesome Iuwh aiul rest, ' Both by king Henry's stiilwiirt might, ' And by thy coimsels mild and right. For this their holy benisons, * May the apostles shed, each one, A thousand thousandtbld on thee ! And since thy mild connnund huth won mc, ' To turn this gcxxlly history Into romaimt, and carei\Uly To write it out, and soothly tvisdom in avoiding all the snares of party, by retiring from public life at a period so full of perilous excite- ment as the early part of Stephen's reign, cannot be disputed. Her gentle disposition, her good taste, and feminine feelings fitted her for the enjoyments of private life, and she made them her choice. There was, however, nothing of a selfish character in the conduct of the royal matron in declining to exert such influence as she possessed in advocating the claims of her step-daughter, Matilda, to the throne of England. As a queen-dowager, Adelicia had no voice in the choice of a sovereign ; as a female, she would have departed from her province had she intermeddled with intrigues of statc^ even for the purpose of assisting the lawful heir to the crown. She left the question to be decided by the peers and people of England, and as they did not oppose the coronation of Stephen, ' Howard Memorials. Ticmey's Hist. Arundel. |. I V^ !! i I ^ 192 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. she had no pretence for interfering ; but she never sanctioned the usurpation of the successful rival of her step-da»ighter'a right, by appearing at his court. And when the empress Matilda landed in England to dispute the crown with Stephen the gates of Arundel-castle were thrown open, to receive lur and her train, by the royal Adehcia and her high-minded husband, Albini.' It was in the yeai' 1139 when this perilous guest claimed the hospitality, and finally the protection, of the noble pair, whose wedded happiness had been rendeied more perfect by the birth of a son, probably very little before that period, for it was only in the second year of their marriage. And she, over whose barrenness, as the consort of the mightiest monarch of the West, both sovereign and people had lamented for nearly fifteen years, became, when the wife of a subject, the mother of a numerous progeny, the ancestress of an illus- trious line of English nobles, in whose veins her royal blood has been preserved in uninterrupted course to the present day. According to Malmesbury, and many other historians, the empress Matilda was only attended by her brother, the earl of Gloucester, and a hundred and forty followers, when she landed at Portsmouth in the latter end of September. Gervase and Brompton aver that she came with a numerous army; but the general bearings of history prove that this was not the fact, since Matilda was evidently in a state of absolute peril when her generous step-mother afforded her an asylum within the walls of Arundel-castle j for we find that her devoted friend and brother, Robert earl of Gloucester, mIicu he saw that she was honourably received there, considered her in a place of safety, and, attended by only twelve persous, proceeded to Bristol. No sooner was Stephen informed that the empress INIatilda was in Arundel-castle, than he raised the siege of Marl- borough, and commenced a rapid march towards Arundel, in order to attack her in her retreat. The spirit with whicli he pushed his operations alanned the royal ladies.^ Adelicia dreaded the destruction of her castle, the loss of her beloved ' Malmesbury. Speed. Rapin. ' (icrvuse. M. Paris. H. Huntingdou. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 193 husband, nnd the breaking up of all the domestic happiness she had enjoyed since her retirement from pubhc life. The empress Matilda suffered some apprehension, lest her gentle step-mother should be induced to deUver her into the hands of her foe. There was, however, no less fimmess than gentle- ness in the character of Adelicia; and the moment Stephen approached her walls, she sent messengers to entreat his for- bearance, assuring him " that she had admitted Matilda, not as his enemy, but as her daughter-in-law and early friend, who had claimed her hospitality, which respect for the memory of her late royal lord, king Henry, forbade her to refuse ; and these considerations would compel her to protect her imperial guest while she remained beneath the shelter of her roof.' That if he came in hostile array against her castle of Arundel with intent to make Matilda his prisoner, she must frankly say she was resolved to defend her to the last extremity, not only because she was the daughter of her late dear lord, king Henry, but as the widow of the emperor Henry and her guest ;" and she besought Stephen, " by all the laws of courtesy and the ties of kindred, not to place her in such a painful strait as to compel her to do any thing against her con- science.'' In conclusion, she requested, with much earnest- ness, " that Matilda might be allowed to leave the castle, and retire to her brother." Stephen acceded to the proposal, the siege was raised, and the empress proceeded to join her adherents at Bristol. We are incUned to regard Stephen's courteous compliance with the somewhat unreasonable prayer of the queen-dowager, as a proof of the high respect in which she was held, and the great influence over the minds of her royal husband's kindred which her \irtues and winning qualities had obtained while she wore the crown-matrimonial of England. William of Mahnesbury, the only writer who speaks unkindly of AdeUcia, intimates that a suspicion of treachery on her part caused the empress Matilda to quit Arundel ; " For," says he, " her mother-in-law, through female inconstancy, had broken the faith she had reneatedly pledged by messages sent into Nor- Gcrvasc. Mulmosbur^. Et'pbi. VOL. I. O I \ i i 1^ I I I !: ' ■ % I is. 194 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. IFT mandy." It is scarcely probable that Adelicia, who took the utmost care to maintain a strict neutrality at this embarrassing crisis, had ever used any flattering professions to persuade the empress Matilda to assert her claims to the throne of England. Her sole offence appears to have been, inflexible determination not to engage herself in the struggle by espousing her im- perial step-daughter's cause. Oiu* chronicler, whose book is dedicated to his patron and pupil the earl of Gloucester, gives of course a prejudiced view of conduct which, however politic, was opposed to the interests of their party. AdeUcia con- ducted herself with equal prudence and magnanimity in the defence and deUverance of her step-daughter, exhibiting a very laudable mixture of the wisdom of the serpent with the inno- cence of the dove and the courage of the hon. The Hon was the cognizance of the royal house of Louvaine ; and Mr. Howard is of opinion, that this proud bearing was assumed by the family of Albini in token of descent from ' the fair maid of Brabant,' ^ rather than with any reference to the fabled exploit of her second husband, related in Dugdale's Baronage. A grateftd remembrance of the generous conduct of Stephen, in aU probabihty withheld AdeKcia and Albini from taking part with the empress Matilda against him, in the long and disastrous civil war, which desolated the ravaged plains of England with kindred blood during so many years of that inauspicious reign. They appear to have maintained a strict neutrality, and to have preserved their vassals and neighbours from the evils attendant upon the contest between the empress and the king. AdeUcia, after her happy marriage with the husband of her choice, was not forgetful of the respect which she considered due to the memory of her late royal lord, king Henry ; for, by a third charter, she granted to his favourite abbey of Reading the church of Berkeley-Harness, in Gloucestershire," with suitable endowments, "to pray for the soul of king Henry, and duke Godfrey her father ; and also for the health of her present lord," whom she styles "WilKam earl of Chichester, and for her own health, and the health of her * Howard Memorialii. ' Monasticon, charter ix. Howard Memorials. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 195 childien." Thus we observe that this amiable princess unites the departed objects of her veneration in the devotional offices which she fondly caused the monks of Reading to offer up for the welfare of her living husband, her beloved children, and herself. To her third son, Adehcia gave the name of her deceased lord, king Henry. Her fourth was named Godfrey, after her father and elder brother, the reigning duke of Brabant. Adehcia chiefly resided at Arundel-castle after her marriage with WiUiam de Albini, but there is also traditional evidence that she occasionally hved with him in the noble feudal castle which he built, after his marriage with her, at Buckenham in Norfollv. It is still designated in that county as New Bucken- ham, though the mound, part of the moat, and a few moulder- ing fragments of the walls, are all that remain of the once stately hall that was at times graced with the dowager-court of Ahx la Belle. The priory of St. Bartholomew, likewise called * the priory of the Causeway,' in the parish of Lyminster, near Arundel, was estabUshed by queen Adehcia, after her marriage with Wilham de Albini, as a convent of Augustinian canons.^ It was situated at the foot of the hiU which overlooks the town from the south side of the river. The number of inmates appears originally to have been hmited by the royal foun- dress to two persons, whose principal business was to take charge of the bridge, and to preserve the passage of the river. All her gifts and charters were solemnly confirmed by her husband, WiUiam Albini, who appears to have cherished the deepest respect for his royal spouse, always speaking of her as ' eximia regma* — ^that is, inestimable or surpassingly excel- lent queen.^ We find, from the Monasticon, that Adelicia gave in trust to the bishop of Chichester certain lands in Arundel, to provide salaries for the payment of two chaplains to celebrate divine service in that castle. The last recorded act of Adehcia was the grant of the prebend of West Dean to the cathedral of Chichester, in 1150. In the year 1149, a younger brother of Adehcia, Henry of Louvaine, was professed a monk in the monastery of Affligham, ' Dugdale's Monasticon, lib. epist. B, vol. xviii. * Howard Metnorisils. o3 ■I !| W\ !■ ! i I, f. rli^iy i' m \\ tl r 1 1 > i ( \V\\ \ .i \\ i: <•! ! I J. J iwia.1-^ aiaitriiJ 196 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. near Alost in Flanders, which had been founded by their father Godfrey and his brother Henry of Louvaine ; and soon after, the royal Adeheia herself,' stimulated no doubt by his example, mthdrew not only from the pomps and parade of earthly grandeur, but from the endearments of her adoring husband and youthful progeny, and, crossing the sea, retu'ed to the nunnery in the same foundation, where she ended her days,^ and was Ukewise buried.* Mr. Howard, in his inter- esting sketch of the life of his royal ancestress, states it to be his opinion, that AdeHcia did not take this important step without the full consent of her husband. Strange as it appears to us, that any one who was at the very summit of earthly felicity should have broken through such fond ties of conjugal and maternal love as those by which Adelicia was sur- rounded to bury herself in cloistered seclusion, there is indu- bitable evidence that such was the fact. Sanderus, in his account of the abbeys and churches of Brabant, relates that " Fulgentius, the abbot of Afflighani, visited queen Adelicia at the court of her royal husband, Henry I., where he was received with especial honours.^' The same author expressly states that Adelicia died in the con- vent of Affligham, and was interred there on the 9th of the calends of April. He does not give the date of the year. From the mortuary of the abbey he quotes the following Latin record of the death of this queen: — " Aleidem genuit cum barba dux Godefredus, Qui fuit Anglorum regina piissima morum." The annals of Margan date this event in the year 1151. There is a charter in Affligham, granted by Henry of Lou- vaine, on condition that prayers may be said for the welfare of liis brother Godfrey, the reigning duke, his sister Aleyda the queen, and Ida the coimtess of Cleves, and their parents.' Adeheia must have been about forty-eight years old at the time of her death. She had been married eleven years, or thereabouts, to William de Albini, lord of Buckenham. At his paternal domain of New Buckenham, in Norfolk, a founda- ' Huhnet, Troph^ du IJrabant. • Sanderus, Ai/lxjys and Churches m Brabant. 2 Ibid. * Howard Memorials. ! « 4- ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 197 tion was granted by William de Albini ' of the Strong Arm/ enjoinmg that prayers might be said for the departed spirit of his * eximia regina,' He survived her long enough to be the happy means of composing, by an amicable treaty, the death- strife which had convulsed England for fifteen years, in con- sequence of the bloody succession-war between Stephen and the empress Matilda.^ Tliis great and good man is buried in Wymondham-abbey, near the tomb of his father, the Pin- cenia of England and Normandy. By her marriage with Albini, Adehcia became the mother of seven surviving children. William earl of Arundel, who suc- ceeded to the estates and honours ; Rejuer ; Henry; Godfrey; Alice, married to the count d'Eu ; OHvia ; Agatha. The two latter were buried at Boxgrove, near Arundel. Though Ade- licia had so many children by her second marriage, her tender affection for her father's family caused her to send for her younger brother, Josceline of Louvaine, to share in her pros- perity and happiness. The munificent earl, her husband, to enable this landless prince to marry advantageously, gave him the fair domain of Petworth, on his wedding Agnes, the heiress of the Percies : " since which," says Camden, " the posterity of that Joscehne, who took the name of Percy, have ever possessed it, — a family certainly very ancient and noble, the male representatives of Charlemagne, more direct than the dukes of Guise, who pride themselves on that account. Josce- hne, in a donation of his which I have seen, uses this title : * Joscehne of Louvaine, brother to queen Adehcia, castellaine of Arundel.'" Two ducal peers of England are now the representatives of the imperial Carlovingian line ; namely, the duke of Norfolk, the heir of queen Adehcia ; and the duke of Northumberland, the hneal descendant of her brother Josceline of Louvaine. The two most unfortunate of all the queens of England, Anna Boleya and Katharine Howard, were the lineal descendants of Adehcia, by her second marriage with Wilham de Albini. A curious tradition exists at Reading, that Henry I. was huried there in a silver coffin, and that the utter demolition ^ This nil! bti detailed in the succeeding biography. w ( 1 it il j M I r: \ u i:! ir II: • [1: i < L '. !. 1 :ml ( \'l^ 1 .1 '1| ' ' 1 ■:ir 1 ^ ^i '■(' i; J. :i am, i Ml , I f 198 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. of Ms monument may be attributed to the persevering zeai of the destroyers of the stately abbey, in their search to discover and appropriate the precious depository. Adelicia's effigy is stated to have been placed at Reading by the side of her hus- band Henry I., crowned and veiled, because she had been both queen and professed nun.* No copy or vestige of it remains. The portrait of Queen Adehcia illustrating this biography, has been drawn by Mr. Harding from her beautiful seal, pendant to the charter she gave Reading-abbey. Although she was then the wife of WiUiam de Albini, she is represented in regal costume as queen of England, which in many points varies from that of her predecessors. The transparent veil of Matilda of Flanders is superseded by a drapery similar to the haike of the Arabs, and hke that celebrated mantle, it is hooded over the head, and falling by each cheek is tied in front of the throat; then flowing in ample folds over the arms, nearly covers the whole of the person. Adehcia's crown confines this mantle to the head, by being fixed over it. The crown is simple : a smooth band of gold with rims, in which circle three large gems are set j three high points rise from it, each terminated with a trefoil of pearls : a cap of satin or velvet is seen just above the circlet. The sceptre of mercy, surmounted with a dove and finished with a trefoil, is held in Adehcia^s right hand, the orb of sovereignty in her left, to which, excepting by the especial *2;race of her roj'ai lord, she could have no right. The queen'b robe or gown seems tight to her shape : it is elegantly worked in a diamond pattern from the throat to the feet, over which it flows. The figure is whole-length, standing ; and as the seal is a pointed oval nearly three inches long, there was space to give character, not only to the costume, but the features, of which the medi- aeval artist has availed himself sufiiciently to present the only resemblance extant of AdeUcia of Louvaine. s' .t ' History of Reading, by John Man, p. 282 : published by Snare and Mnn, Reading, 1816. This tmditionary description of Ailelicia's *: ligy appoiirs more applicable to her predecessor Matilda, unless we may coiyecture that Addicia wore the conventual dress of the nunnery where slie died. Another place is pointed out as the spot where her ashes repose, beuig the church of Fuggloston, where she founded au hospital. ">in^mk' ■ WW*' lefoil, nher royal gown imond , The jointed racter, medi- le only and Man, 'iirs more Adelicia place is Tgkston, t ■ I ■■i* I t i \ t ti 11 r^- ;il,i 1. - 1 : i <■! I'l'. I ' t, ' ' f (*■' "•} 1 •'J' m a: 1 IP'. ! \ . i h,"?v >< ' ijfe^^HH ■' L % HBH^BBi 1 f ™ir - 1 mi ;1 , ,. , ^' 1 1 ^^ •/, ^^-^ c- p^^^^^^^^^ \ Ti Xondnu tlrTirj Colburu 1861. ■**, M h } 1 L I) A 0 I^^ r» 0 U L {) <} N E, yUKK:^ OF STEl-»IIF.:\. ■.••"»( ft'oiu Sii.vnn Uinf^*> — Hw mother a Siixx-i ,»«i«.Mi*i< Hw Jfetitef , , . -I,, wfitfd to Stephen (.f IMf/is-'Koiilcnci" al !o'«i c-Ho^'ij; ■ ^ti/.Cikl,!'* .♦ f :■; .'Vt K<«j;Mim - Stopliw. Hcizes tht.< li»r!' jii-^rraE.vtw.j-- >"'•»' V* MatDflfi- Qiwea lull roxoiit— 'Dismaters-- 'iu«"m J>t!«*ug<« i-invw 'h^f-'-w* pea'^ witl) her uiifle — Eui|ir"«— M"nTJrtgi' < if her young ,J,*ij&« m lU'i'i) — Stoj/heucaptuTtw — Arn))iatjc« ot'tlnH'iTiprcss — ii'^txii't .•i,5ai>*>.f vff.d iu Slt'pbeii's cauRO^ — Qi.iH-n Mutildw wriff.s to bi 4n.'p liloi*— "i-: ; v^j> *.'t«ai ior ittoyh«ni'» lil^firty — Oixlwacy of the «voprcs8 — ^Queeft - .-.■i/.-^-Af' 'yf <#♦»>•, -Kmjircsist i:' WincJu'MU'r — Hit scflit --InsiiUj. XAKJidon'^rs--^ ' - •,'. ;V'<5» j.'iml(m - Sucoossvs of lliu quoeis -IVlics Wij.dtOKtet — B«-?ip8-, : ^' .;•'*^^t1*>••ft^ 'K««rl of (Hoiifeister taknu -E¥ohangi*d f.T Stf^pbon-- tlliiefl* . /* ^M.^l»»*« • Empress tistuj^i','' from (^x^or'i - If« r son — iJwMrio of tti^ . i;ij»j. "•f'lir /,i-u«ii Miitiida foinuL* t^t. Kattwiniio by fcho Towi-x — IK'ati^ v« ;-irM'*- 'B»irti*t-'r.arU)-— Epitaph — CldldrcTi— EnHtsKS) — l>*^Atli of Ijjijjf •• - ,.■ i*A?,ejt>« iuioK»ti, the lust of ouy A.ujf lo- Ko:.'m8»i qii©rn«i, • , ;>«i^'t;^ uf iJbe ancieut, royal iiiie of Kii^ti.41 HM*Wi^rtw«v ^. x>4C;:tes*5, Mhtj of Scotkiud, wiiij the x^rrusifi ;Uu^itcr of ^■■■'^\/^ :Ji««J%«>W! iU3(l Mar;j;arct Atheliuj^, ;mJ >^tet t0 -^ ' ,#.:*■ iifvii. the first qucen of Hoiiv}' BefUK-lcrc. Mary" i'' . ■:^:m:'^ '*:t?; f^^acatc^d, witb lier elder sister, hi tbc royal . ; :j«?^sf^ *^' WSti-'Ti and iloTiOfte)'', Ufuier tlie stevu tlitelnp;c 'sr. iiW^ ^4',n4«Siua; aud w:ls dotuitkss, like the prince*** ;:^ ,; *4f«, '»'#S(^^ ,*ai:Mr.it|feK^. %?:,i^^ ;>k;3#^ fise cloister tor tlr^ cuvirt ot' K'>j.:iuad, ^- ..^Ar. . Ly^j *f **%^' i'^. •f»- %» '^ i,*v ■ v^<-^ ^5 1^^ • - > //^' t/^ ■//.' ¥'■ ^J'v <^ V / JlatiUliv's (1 — Matil( ix)pularii Coronatii castle — J Henry of heir— Ra ^Tief— Ej Her Hup] appeals t Driven f of tlie en of king { empress's of the qu Stcphen- Matilda was a prii Her mot Malcolm Matilda tl of Scotlai inonasteri( of their a Matilda, c( tlie youth consecrate no gossipii tainly fors ^■r^. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE, QUEEN OF STEPHEN. Matildiv's descent from Saxon kings — Her mother a Saxon princess — Her father — Matilda esponsed to Stephen of Blois — Residence at Tower-Royal — Matilda's popularity in London — Stephen seizes the throne — Birth of prince Enstaco — Coronation of Matilda — Queen left regent — Disasters — Queen besieges Dover- castle — Mediates peace with her uncle — Empress Matilda lands in England — Henry of Blois — Civil war — Queen goes to Prance — Marriage of her young heir — liaises an army — Stephen captured — Ai-rogauce of the empress— Queen'i ^Tief— Exertions ii: Stephen's cause — Queen Matilda writes to bishop Blois — Her supplication for Stephen's liberty — Obduracy of the empress — Queen appeals to arms — Empress in Winchester — Her seal — Insults Londoners — Driven from London — Successes of the queen — Takes Winchester — Escape of the empress — Enrl of Gloucester taken — Exchanged for Stephen — Illness of king Stephen — Empress escapes from Oxford — Her son — Decline of the empress's cause — Queen Matilda founds St. Katherine by the Tower — Death of the queen — Burial —Tomb — Epitaph — Cluldren — Eustace — Death of kuig Stephen — Burial by his queeu — Exhumation of their bodies. SIatilda of Boulogne, the last of our Anglo-Norman queens, was a princess of the ancient royal line of English monarchs. Her mother, Mary of Scotland, was the second daughter of Malcolm Canmore and Margaret Atheling, and sister to Matilda the Good, the first queen of Henry Beauclerc. Mary of Scotland was educated, with her elder sister, in the royal monasteries of Wilton and Romsey, under the stem tutelage of their aunt Christina ; and was doubtless, like the princess ]\Iatilda, compelled to assume the habit of a votaress. Whether the youthful Mary testified the same Uvely antipathy to the consecrated black veil that was exhibited by her elder sister, no gossiping monastic chronicler has recorded ; but she cer- tainly forsook the cloister for the court of England, on 1 1 1 . ' i u ;r I fi I' I,; 1-1 i 200 MATILDA OF DOULOONE. «:. t! 'i' ''3 t'.Wl-- j - , i' — ' =^g^g .Ik... Hi Matilda's auspicious nuptiiil» with Henry T., and exchanpjcd the badge of celibacy for the nuptial ring hoou afterwards, when her royal brother-in-law gave her in marriage to Eustiice count of Boulogne. The father of this nobleman was brothc. in-law to Edward the Confessor, having married Goda, the widowed countess of Mantes, sister to that monju-ch ; botli himself and his son Eustace had been powerful supporters of the Saxon cause. The enterprising spirit of the coiuits of Boulogne, and the contiguity of their dominions to the Enjijlisli shores, had rendered them troublesome neighbours to Williiim the Conqueror and his sons, till the chivalric spirit of crusading attracted their energies to a loftier object, and converted these pirates of the narrow seas into heroes of the Cross, and libe- rators of the holy city. Godfrey of Boulogne, the hero of Tasso's Gierusakme lAberata, and his brother Baldwin, who successively wore the croAvii of Jerusalem, were the uncles of Matilda, Stephen's queen. Her father, Eustace count of Boulogne, was also a distinguished crusader. He must have been a mature hus- band for Mary of Scotland, since he was the companion in arms of Robert of Normandy, and her uncle Edgar Athehng. Matilda, or, as she is sometimes called for brevity, Maud of Boulogne, was the sole offspring of this marriage, and the heiress of this illustrious house. There is every reason to believe Matilda was educated in the abbey of Bermondsey, to which the countess of Boulogne, her mother, was a munificent benefactress. The countess died in this abbey while on a visit to England in the year 1 115, and wa^s buried there. We gather from the Latm verses on her tomb, that she wiis a lady of very noble qualities, and that her death was very painful and imexpected.' Young as Matilda was, she was certainly espoused to Stephen de Blois before her mother's decease ; for tliis plain reason, that the charter by which the countess of Boulogne, in the year 1114, grants to the Cluniac monks of Bermondsey her manor of Kynewardstone, is, in the year she died, con- firmed by Eustace her husband, and Stephen her son-in-law.' ' AimoleB Abbatte de Bermondsey. ' Ibid. [/■• MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 201 Stephen, the third son of a vnssfil peer of Franco, ohtiiinod this greiit match throuj^li the favonr of his royal uncle, Henry I. Ho inherited from the royal Adoln, his mother, the splendid talents, fine person, and enterprising spirit of the mighty Nor- man line of sovereigns. A very tender friendship had suh- sistcd between Adeln countess of Blois, and her brother I lenry Beauclcrc, who at different periods of his life had been under important obligations to her j and wlien Adela sent lier landless boy to seek his fortunes at the court of England, Henry returned the friendly offices which he had received from this faithful sister, by lavishing wealth and honour on her son. Stephen received the spurs of knighthood from his uncle king Henry, previous to the battle of Tuichebray, where he took the count of Mortagne prisoner, and received the investi- ture of his lands. He Avaa farther rewarded by his royal kinsman with the hand of Matilda, the heiress of Boulogne.' " When Stephen was but an earl,'* says William of Malmes- bury, " he gained the aflFections of the people, to a degree that can scarcely be imagined, by the affability of his manners, and the wit and pleasantry of his conversation, condescending to chat and joke with persons in the humblest stations as well as with the nobles, who delighted in his company, and attached themselves to his cause from rsonal regard.*" Stephen was count of lV>ulogne in Matilda's right, when, as count of Mortagne, he swore fealty in 1126 to the empress Matilda, as heiress to the Norman dominions of Henry I. The London resident v of Stephen and Matilda was Tower- Royal, a palace built by king Henry, and presented by him to his favoured nephew on the occasion of his wedding the niece of his queen, Matilda Atheling. The spot to which this regal-sounding name is still appended, is a close lane between Chcapside and Watling-street. Tower- Royal was a fortress of prodi^nous strength ; for more than once, when the Tower of London itself fell into the hands of the rebels, this embattled palace of Stephen remained in security.* It is a remarkable fact, that Stephen had embarked on ' Ordericua Vitalis. ' W. Malmesbnry. Ordericua Vitalia. ' Stowe's Survey. Pennant's London. till < I i :t--!l!*' 1' { I! ! f 1 1 i I I ^ ! ' i r''i : Mti 202 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. board the 'Blanche Nef with his royal cousin, William the Atheling, and the rest of her fated crew ; but with two knights of his train, and a few others who prudently followed his example, he left the vessel with the remark that " she was too much crowded with foohsh, headstrong young people."' After the death of prince William, Stephen's influence with his royal uncle became unbounded, and he was his constant com- panion in all his voyages to Normandy. There are evidences of conjugal infidehty on the part of this gay and gallant young prince, about this period, proving that Matilda's cup of happiness was not without some alloy of bitterness. How far her peace was affected by the scfin- dalous reports of the passion which her haughty cousin the empress Matilda, the acknowledged heiress of England and Normandy, was said to cherish for her aspiring husband, we cannot presume to say ; but there was an angel-like spirit in the princess which supported her imder every trial, and ren- dered her a beautiful example to every royal female in the married state. Two children, a son and a daughter, were bom to the young earl and countess of Boulogne, during king Henrj-'s reign. The boy was named Baldwin, after Matilda's uncle, the king of Jerusalem, — a Saxon name, withal, and therefore likely to sound pleasantly to the ears of the English, who, no doubt, looked mth complacency on the infant heir of Bou- logne, as the son of a princess of the royal Atheling blood, bom among them, and educated by his amiable mother to venerate their ancient laws, and to speak their language. Prince Baldwin, however, died in early childhood, and was interred in the prioiy of the Holy Trinity, without Aldgate, founded by liis royjd aunt, Matilda of Scotland. The second child of Stephen and Matilda, a daughter named Maud, bojni also in the reign of Henry I., died young, and was bm'ied in the same church. Some historians aver that Maud survived long enough to be espoused to the earl of Milan. So dear was the memory of these her buried hopes to the heart of Matilda, that after she became queen of England, and her loss was * Ordcricus Vitalis. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 203 supplied by the birth of another son and daughter, she con- tinued to lament for them ; and the church and hospital of St. Katherine by the Tower were founded and endowed by her, that prayers might be perpetually said by the pious sister- hood for the repose of the souls of her first-bom children. In the latter days of king Hemy, while Stephen was engaged in stealing the hearts of the men of Enghmd, after the fashion of Absalom, the mild virtues of liis amiable consort recalled to their remembrance her royal aunt and namesake, Henry's first queen, and inspired them with a trembling hope of seeing her place filled eventually by a princess so much more resembhng her than the haughty wife of Geoffrey of Anjou. The Norman woman looked upon her mother's people mth. scorn, and from her they had nothinjij to expect but the iron yoke which her grandfather, the Conqueror, had laid upon their necks, with, perhaps, an aggravation of their miseries. But Stephen, the husband of her gentle cousin, the Enghsh-hearted Matilda, had whispered in their eais of the confirmation of the great charter of their liberties, which Hemy of Normandy had granted when he became the husband of the descendant of their ancient kings, and broken when her influence was destroyed by death and a foreign marriage. King Henry's daughter, the empress Matilda,^ was the wife of a foreign prince residing on the continent. Stephen and his gentle princess were Uving in London, and daily endear- ing themselves to tl..; people by the most popular and affable behaviour. The public mind was certainly predisposed in favour of Stephen's designs, whea the sudden death of king Henry in Normandy left the right of succession for the first time to a female heir. Piers of Langtoft thus describes the perplexity of the nation respecting the choice of the sovereign : " On bier lay king Henry, On bier beyond tbo seft, And no man might rightly know Who his heir suld he." Stephen, following the example of the deceased monarch's conduct at the time of his brother Rufus's death,^ left his ' The biography of the empress Matilda ia conthiued tlirough this litb. * Maluiesburv. rf ;l 1 V :*. u 1 '• i !. l! i 'U k^ %■ l'" ^i V'h 204 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. royal uncle and benefactor's obsequies to the care of Robert earl of Gloucester, and the other peers who were witnesses to his last words ; and embarking at Whitesand, a small port in Matilda's dominions, in a light vessel, on a wintry sea, he landed at Dover in the midst of such a storm of thunder and lightning, that, according to WiUiam of Malmesbury, every one imagined the world was coming to an end. As soon as he arrived in London, he convened an assembly of the Anglo- Norman barons, before whom his confederate and friend Hugh Bigod, the steward of king Henry's household, swore on the holy Evangehsts, "that the deceased sovereign had disinherited the empress Matilda on his death-bed, and adopted his most dear nephew Stephen for his heir."* On this bold affirmation, the archbishop of Canterbury absolved the peers of the oaths of fealty they had tmce sworn to the daugliter of their late sovereign, and declared " that those oaths were null and void, and contrary, moreover, to the laws and customs of the English, who had never permitted a woman to reign over them." This was a futile argmnent, as no female had ever Btood in that important position, with regard to the succession to the crown of England, in which the empress Matilda was now placed; therefore no precedent had occurred for the estabhshment of a salic law in England. Stephen was crowned on the 26th of December, his name- day, the feast of St. Stephen.*^ He swore to establish the righteous laws of Edward the Confessor, for the general happiness of all classes of his subjects.^ The English regarded Stephen's union with a princess of their race as the best pledge of the sincerity of his professions in regard to the amelioration of their condition. These hopes were, of course, increased by the birth of prince Eustace, whom Matilda brought into the world very soon after her husband's accession to the tlu-one of England. It was, perhaps, this auspicious event that prevented Matilda from being associated in the coronation of her lord on St. Stephen's-day, in Westminster- abbey. Her own coronation, according to Gervase, took * Malmesbury. Rapin. * Sir Han-is Nicolns's Chronology of History. • Malmesbury. Uronipton. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 203 place March 22nd, 1136, being Easter- Sunday, not quite three months afterwards. Stephen was better enabled to support the expenses of a splendid ceremonial in honour of his beloved queer.; having, immediately after his own hasty inauguration, posted to Winchester and made himself master of the treusmy of his deceased uncle king Henry; which contained, says Malmesbury, "one himdred thousand pounds, besides stores of plate and jewels." The empress Matilda was in Anjou at the time of her father's sudden demise. She was entirely occupied by the grievous sickness of her husband, who was supposed to be on his death-bed.^ After the convalescence of her lord, as none of her partisans in England made the slightest movement in her favour, she remained quiescent for a season, well knowing that the excessive popularity of a new monarch is seldom of long continuance in England. Stephen had begun well by abolishing ' dtiuegelt,* and leaving the game in woods, forests, and unculti'' * wastes common to all his subjects ; but after awhile he i ■ '-d of his hberal policy, and called courts of inquiry to make men give account of the damage and loss he had sustained in his faUow-deer and other wild game; he hkewise enforced the offensive system of the other Norman monarchs for their preservation. Next he obtained the enmity of the clergy, by seizing the revenues of the see of Canterbury ; and lastly, to the great alarm and detriment of the peacefully disposed, he imprudently permitted his nobles to build or fortify upwards of a thousand of those strongholds of wrong and robbery called castles, which rendered their owners in a great measure independent of the crown. Baldwin de Redvers, earl of Devonshire, was the first to give Stephen a practical proof of his want of foresight in this matter, by telling him, on some slight cause of offence, " that he was not king of right, and he would obey liim no longer." Stephen proceeded in person to chastise him. In the mean time David king of Scotland invaded the northern counties, under pretence of revenging the wrong that had been done to liis niece, the empress Matilda, by Stephen's usurpation and > Carrutlxers' History of Scotland, pp. 327, .328-. m >V i; i4,!l tM^' "t '\\, \' :l \\\ i»! i . it ! ' 1 ' lili' wh 206 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. M : . irS perjury. Matilda of Boulogne, Stephen's consort, stood iu the same degree of relationship to the king of Scotland as the empress Matilda, since her mother, Mary of Scotland, was his sister, no less than Matilda the queen of Henry I. Stephen concluded a hasty pear i with the Welsh princes, and advanced to re; •! the invasion f king DaAid : but when the hostile armies met near Carlisle, he succeeded in adjusting all differ. ences by means of an amicable treaty, perhaps through the entreaties or mediation of his queen. Easter was kept at Westminster this year, 1137, by Stephen and Matilda, with greater splendour than had ever been seen in the court of Heur Beauclerc, to celebrate the happy tennination of the storm that had so lately darkened the pohtical horizon ; but the rejoicings of the ^ueeu were fear- fully interrupted by the alarming ilhiess wliich sudden'y attacked the king, in the midst of the festivities. This ilhiess, the effect no doubt of the preternatural exertions of both mental and corporeal powers, which Stephen had compelled himself to use during the recent momentous crisis of his fortunes, was a sort of stupor or lethargy so nearly resembhng death, that it was reported in Normandy that he had breathed his last ; on which the party of the empress began to take active measures, both on the continent and in England, for the recognition of her rights.^ The count of Anjou entered Normandy at the head of an army, to assert the claims of his wife and son, which were, however, disputed by Stephen's elder brother, Theobald count of Blois, not in behalf of Stephen, but himself; while the eai'l of Gloucester openly declared iii favour of his sister the empress, and dehvered the keys of Falaise to her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou.^ WTien Stephen recovered from his death-like sickness, he found every thing iu confusion, — the attention of his faitlrful queen, Matilda, having doubtless been absorbed in anxious watchings by his sick bed, during the protracted period of his strange and alarming malady. She wjis now left to take care of his interests in England as best she might ; for Stephen, rousing himself from the pause of exhausted nature, hastened ' Hovcden, Bromptou. Ordcricus Vitalis. - M. l'ai'L«, he. ic. to the Matild inherit bribe, mandy, receive Mea id ill ls Uie as Ilia eplieii 'anccd hostile differ. gh the Iteplien en seen happy led the :re fear- judden]y 8 illiiess, of both ompelled is of Ms 'semhling breathed to take ;land, for ,1 entered nis of his tephen'b Stephen, clai'ed in keys of aess, he lis faithful anxious [iod of his I tahe cure Stephen, hastened lis, it. ic. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 207 to the coutinent ^vith his infant heir Eustace, to whom queen Matildti ^'od xcsigned the earldom of Boulogne, her own fair inheritar.ee. Stephen, by the strong eloquence of an immense bribe, prevailed on Louis VII. of France, as suzerain of Nor- mandy, to invest the unconscious babe with the duchy, and to receive his liege homage for the same.* Meantime, some portentous events occurred during Matilda's government. Sudden and mysterious conflagrations then, as now, indicated the sullen discontent of the very lower order of the English people. On the 3rd of June, 1137, Rochester cathedral was destroyed by fire ; the following day, the whole city of York, with its cathedral and thirty churches, w{ s burnt to the ground ; soon after, the city of Bath shared the same fate. Then conspiracies began to be formed in favour of the empress Matilda, in varLus parts of England; and lastly, her uncle, David king of Scotland, once more entered Northumber- land, with banners displayed, in support of his supplanted kinswoman's superior title to the crown.^ Queen Matilda, ^ith courage and energy suited to tliis alarming crisis, went in person and besieged the uisurgents, who had seized Dover- castle ; and she sent orders to the men of Boidogne, her loyal subjects, to attack the rebels by sea. The Boulonnois obeyed the commands of their beloved princess with alacrity, and to such good purpose, by covering the Channel with their light- armed vessels, that the besieged, not being able to receive the shghtest succour by sea, were forcer' to submit to the queen.^ At this juncture Stephen arrived : he succeeded in chastising the leaders of the revolt, and drove the Scottish king over his own border Nevertheless, the empress Matilda's party, in the yeai" 1138, began to assume a formidable aspect. Every day brought tidings to the court of Stephen of some fresh revolt. William of Malraesbury relates, that when Stephen was ioformed of these desertions, he passionately exclaimed, " Why did they make me king, if they forsake me thus ? By the birth of God !* I will never be called an abdicated king." ' Ordcricus Vitalis. H. Huntingdon. Brompton, * Brompton. Bapin. Ordcricus Vitalis. M. Paris. Bapin. Speed. •* Ordcricus Vitalis. ■• Tliis was Stephen's usual oath. — Mahnesbury. m % \ ; T i 4 , 1 . i. '■ ■■ i ■'■['■ ; [ 1 * ' I \ '^ 1 t ■'!i i i /■! :!^' ^ il^ ' i u I ! I i I ( t I M ; 1 M : 1^ ' ii' (■■ i^ ,1 ■4 ;li !e ;.' }■ l"S 208 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. i ■ ( i The invasion of queen Matilda's uncle, David of Scotland for the third time, increased ' e distraction of her roval liusbjuid's aftairs, especially as Stephen was too much occupied with the internal troubles of his kingdom to be able to proceed in person against him. David and his army were, however defeated with immense slaughter, by the warlike Thurstan archbishop of York, at Cuton-Moor. The particulsu-s of this engagement, called 'the battle of the Standard,' where the church-militant performed such notable service for the crown belong to general history, and are besides too well known to require repetition in ilie biography of Stephen's queen. Matilda' was mainly instrumentjil in negotiatmg the peace which was concluded this year between her uncle and her lord. Prince Henry, the heir of Scotland, having, at the same time renewed his homage to Stephen for the earldom of Hmitingdoii, was in>ited by the king to his court. The attention with which the young prince was treated by the king and queen was viewed with in\'idious eyes by their ill-mannered courtiers ; and Ranulph, earl of Chester, took such great offence at the royal stranger being seated above him at dimier, that he made it an excuse for joining the revolted barons, and persuaded a knot of equally uncivilized nobles to follow his example on the same pretence." The empress Matilda, taking advantage of the fierce con- tention between Stephen and the hierarchy of England, made her tardy appearance, in pursuance of her cl.oims to the crown, in the autumn of 1130. Like her uncle, Robert the Unready, the empress allowed the critical moment to slip when, by prompt and energetic measures, she might have gained tlie prize for which she contended. But she did not arrive till Stephen had made himself master of the castles, and, what was of more importance to him, the great wealth of his three refractory prelates, the bishops of Salisbury, Ely, and Lincohi. "VVlien the empress was shut up within the walls of Armidcl- ' " Through the mediation of Matilda, the wife of Stephen, aivd niece of David, a jk'ucc was eondiidod ut Durham iK'twcen these two kings, cquitiib!.' in itself, and useftil to both parties." — Carruthere' History of Seotluud, vul. L p. 339. ' Speed. castle, prisonc] consang daughte VOL. 1. •ce con- Id, made (e cro^vn, [nready, hen, by tned the rrivc till [id, wlmt [lis tliree Lliicolu. IVnmdcl- |kI uieec of lliiud, vt'l. !• MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 209 castle, Stephen might by one bold stroke have made her his prisoner ; but he was prevailed upon to respect the ties of consanguinity, and the high rank of the widow and of the daughter of his benefactor, king Ileniy. It is possible, too, that recollections of a tenderer nature, with regard to his cousin the empress, might dct^r him from imperilhng her person by pushing the siege. According to some of the chroniclers, the empress sent, with queen Adelicia's requ dt that she might be permitted to retire to Bristol, a guileful letter or message to Stephen,' which induced him to promise, on his word of honour, that he would grant her safe-conduct to that city. Though the empress knew that Stephen had violated the most solemn oaths in regard to her succession to the crown, she rehed upon liis honour, put herself under his protection, and was safely conducted to the castle of Bristol. King Stephen gave to his brother, Heniy of Blois, bishop of Winchester, and to Walleran earl of Mellent, the charge of escorting the empress to Bristol-castle. This bright trait of chivalry contrasts beautifully with the selfishness and perfidy too prevalent at the era. It w«as during this journey, in uU probability, that Henry de Blois arranged his plans with the empress Matilda for making her mistress of the royal city of Winchester, which was entirely under his influence. Wliile the earl of Gloucester, on behalf of his sister the empress, was contesting with king Stephen the realm of Eng- land at the sword^s point, queen Matilda proceeded to France mth. her son Eustace, to endeavour to strengthen her husband's cause by the aid of her foreign connexions ; and while at the court of France, successfully exerted her diplomatic powers in negotiating a marrijige between the princess Constance, sister of Louis VII., and prmce Eustace, then about four years old. The queen presided at this infant marriage, which was cele- brated with great splendom*. Instead of receiving a dowry mth the princess, queen Matilda paid a large sum to purchase her son the bride ; Louis VII. in return solemnly invested his young brother-in-law with the duchy of Normandy, and lent his powerful aid to maintain him there as the nominal * Ocrvase. Henry of Huutingdoiu VOL. 1. V ^ I I ¥■■'' ' II! i' Hi: m-n !;•: M\ ' \ i i s I i- 1 I 210 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. h: sovereign, under the direction of the queen his mother. This alhance, which took place in the year 1140/ greatly rjiised the hopes of Stephen's party ; but the bands of foreign mer- cenaries, which his queen Matilda sent over from Boulogne and the ports of Normandy to his succour, had an injui'ious effect on his cause, and were beheld with jealous alarm by the people of the land ; " whose miseries were in no slight degree aggravated," says the chronicler Gervasc, " by the arrival of these hunger-starved wolves, who completed the destruction of the land's felicity." It was dming the absence of queen !\ii,,ilda and her son prince Eustace, that the battle, so disastroufj to her husband's cause, was fought beneatli the walls of Lincoln, on Candleraas- day, 1141. Stephen had shut up a great many of the empress Matilda's partisans and their families in the city of Lincoln, which he had been for some time besieging. The earl o ' Gloucester's youngest daughter, lately married to her cousin Ranidph, earl of Chester, was among the besieged; and so determined were the two eark, her father and her husband, for her deliverance, that they encouraged their foUoMers to swim, or ford, the deep cold waters of the river Trent,'^ beliind which Stephen and his army were encamped, and fiercely attacked him in their dripping garments, — and all for the relief of the fiiir ladies who were trembling within the walls of Lincoln, and beginning to suffer fi'om lack of provisions. These were the days of chivalry, be it remembered.^ Speed gives us a descriptive catalogue of some of the leading cha- racters among our valiant king Stephen's knights sam peur, , which, if space were allowed us, we would abstract from the animated hiu'angue with which the earl of Gloucester endea- voured to warm his shivering followers into a virtuous blaze of indignation, after they had emerged from their cold bath.* His satirical eloquence was received by the partisans of the empress with a tremendous shout of applause ; and Stephen, not to be behind-hand vnth his foes in bandying personal abuse ' Florence of Worcester. Tyrrell. ^ I'olydore Vergil. Speed. ' Malmesbury. Malmesbury. Rapin. Speed. * Roger Hoveden. H, Huntingdon. Polychronicon. MATILDA or BOULOGNE., 211 as a prelude to the fight, as his own powers of articulation happened to be defective, deputed one Baldwin Fitz-Gilbert, a knight who was blessed with a stentorian voice, to thunder forth his recriminiation on the earl of Gloucester and his host in the ears of both armies. Fitz-dilbert, in his speech, laid scornful stress on the illegitimacy of the empress's champion, whom he designated " Robert, the base-bom general." ' The battle, for which both parties had prepared themselves with such a sharp encounter of keen words, was, to use the expression of contemporary chroniclers, "a very sore one/' but it seems as if Stephen had fought better than his followers that day. " A very strange sight it was," says Matthew Paris, " there to behold king Stephen, left almost alone in the field, yet no man daring to approach him, while, giinding his teeth and foaming like a furious ^vild boar, he drove back with his battle-axe the assailing squadrons, slaying the foremost of them, to the eternal renown of his courage. If but a hundred Uke himself had been with him, a whole army had never been able to capture his person ; yet, single-handed as he was he held out, till first his battle-axe brake, and after- wards his sword shivered in his grasp with the force of his ovm resistless blows, though he was borne backward to his knees by a great stone, which by some ignoble person was fmg at him. A stout knight, WiUiam of Kames, theu seized him by the helmet, and holding the point of his sword to his throat, called upon him to surrender."- Even in that ex- tremity Stephen refused to give up the fragment of his sword , to any one but the earl of Gloucester, liis valiant kinsman, ' who, coming up, bade his infuriated troops refrain from fur- ther violence, and conducted his royal captive to the empress Matilda, at Gloucester. The earl of Glouce'^'^^, it is said, treated Stephen with some degree of courtesy ; but the empress Matilda, whose hatred appears to have emanated from a deeper root of bitterness than mere rivalry of power, loaded him with indignities, and ordered him into the most rigorous confinement in Bristol-castle. According to general historians, ' Roger Hoveden. H. Huntingdon. Speed. " H. Huntiugtlon. Speed. Kapin. p2 : i ■li'!! i!' i i ! i 1 • I ! i i i ii 213 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. she cnnaed him to be heavily ironed, and used the royal cap. tive aa ignominiously as if he had been the lowest felon ; but WiUiam of Mahnesbury says, " this was not till after Stephen had attempted to make his escape, or it was reported that he had been seen severtU times beyond the bomids prescribed for air nnd exercise." The empress Matilda made her public and triumphant entry into the city of Winchester February 7, where she was received with great state by Stephen's ecpially haughty brother, Henry de Blois, Ijishop of Winchester and cardinal -legate. He ap[)eared at the head of all the cU^rgy and monks of tlie diocese; and even the nuii^ of Winchester' (a thing before unheard of) walked unveiled in the procession, to receive and welcome the rightful heiress of the realm, the daughter of the great and learned Henry Fitz-Conqueror, and of Matilda tho descendant of the Athehng. The English had also the satis- faction of seeing the male representative of their ancient monarchs on that occasion within the walls of Winchester; for David of Scotland, the son of Margaret Atheling, was present to do honour to his niece, — ^the victorious rival of Stephen's crown. Henry de Blois resigned the regal orna- ments, and the paltry residue of her father's treasui-e, into the hands of the empress. The next day he received her with great pomp in his cathedral-church, where he excom- municated all the adherents of his unfortimate brother, and promised absolution to all who should abandon his cause and join the empress.*^ In this melancholy position did queen Matilda find her husband's cause, when she returned from her successfid nego- tiation of the marriage between the IVench king's sister and her son the Uttle count of Boulogne, "whom she had left, for the present, established as duke of Nonnandy. The peers and clergy had alike abandoned the luckless Stephen in his adversity ;^ and the archbishop of Canterbury, being a man of tender conscience, had actually visited Stephen in his prison, ' Rudbome's Hist, of Winchester. Gesta Stephani. Gervase. Mahnesbury. Rapln. Mahnesbury. Huntingdon. Ger. Dor. MATILDA OF BOULOONE. 213 to request liis permisHion to transfer liis oath of allegiancc to liis victorious rival the empress Matilda. In this predicament, the fiiithfid consort of the frdlen monarch apphed hciself to tlie citizens of Loudon, with whom she had ever maintained a great share of populiunty. They knew her virtues, for slie liml lived among them ; and her tender affection for her royid spouse in his adversity waa well pleasing to those who had witnessed the domestic happiness of the princely pair, while they lived in Tower-Royal as count and comitess of Boulogne ; and the remembrance of Stephen's free and pleasant conduct, and affable association with all sorts and conditions of men, before he wore the thorny diadem of a doul)tfid title to the sovereignty of England, disposed the majiistracy of London to render every assistance in their power to their mifortunate king.' So powerfully, indeed, had the personal influence of queen ]\latilda operated in that quarter, that when the magis- trates of London were summoned to send their deputies to a synod at Winchester, held by Henry de Blois, which had predetermined the election of the empress Matilda to the tlu'one, they instructed them to demand the liberation of the king in the name of the barons and citizens of London, as a preliminary to entering into any discussion with the partisans of liis enemy. Henry de Blois replied, " That it did not become the Londoners to side with the adherents of Stephen, whose object was to embroil the kingdom in fresh troubles."" Queen Matilda, finding that the trusty citizens of London were baffled by the priestly subtlety of her husband's brother, Henrv de Blois, took the decided, but at that time un- precedented step, of writing in her own name an eloquent letter to the synod, earnestly entreating those in whose hands the government of England was vested to restore the king, her husband, to liberty. This letter the queen's faitlifol cliaplain, Christian, delivered, in full synod, to the legate Hemy de Blois. The prelate, after he had silently perused the touching appeal of his royal sister-in-law, not only refused to commmiicate its purport to the assembly, but, exalting his voice to the highest pitch, proclaimed " that it was illegal and ' Malmesbury. Rapin. 'i<,i; '\ V i I i ' 1 ■■ ■ i f ' ■ : ^■- < ^ \ i i 214 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. Mm improper to he recited in that {^rcat jiHHcinhly, composcl ns It WHS of ccclesijistic^ and (hgiutaries ; for, anunig other ohjootion. aWo points, it was witnessinl hy tlie signature of a ptjrsoti who had at a former eouncil used insidting hmguage to the bishops." Cliristian was not thus to be batfled : lie boldly took his royjil mistress's letter out of the imperious legate's hand, aiul exjdting his voice in turn, so as to : distinctly heard by idl present, he read it aloud to the astonished conclave, in Hpjte of the anger imd opposition of him who was at that time virtually the niling power in the realm. The following brief abstract is nil that WilHam of Malmesbury, who dedicates his history to the leader of the adverse party, Robert earl of Oloucester. thinks proper to give of Matilda's letter : " The cjueen earnestly entreats the whole clergy Jissembled, and esj)eci{dly the bishop of "Winchester, the brother of her lord the kii ig, to restore lur said lord to his kingdom, whom abandoned persons, e\eu such as were under homage to him, have cast into chains." The legate endeavoured to frustrate any good effect which this conjugal appeal from the faithfid consort of his unfortunate brother might have produced, by dissolving the asseinbly, having first excommunicated the leading members of the roynl party. He then declared " that the empress Matilda was lawfidly elected as the doniina or sovereign lady of Enghuid," The following are the words of the formula in which the declaration was delivered : " Having first, as is fit, invoked the aid of Almighty God, we elect as lady of England and Nor- mandy the daughter of the glorious, the rich, the good, the peaceful king Henry, and to her we promise fealty and support.'" No M'ord is here of the good old laws — the laws of Alfred and St. Edward, or of the great charter which Henry I. agreed to obseiTC. The empress was the leader of the Normau party, and the head of Norman feudality, which, in many instances, was incompatible with the Saxon constitution. The imperial " domina" bore her honours with any thing but meekness ; she refused to listen to the counsel of her friends; she treated those of her adversaries wliom misfortune drove to seek her clemency with insolence and cruelty, stripping them of their ' Oesta Stt'phani KcgU. i t I MATILDA OP BOULOGNE, 215 poascHsions, unci ifiuleriuj; them perfectly desperate. The triciids who hud euutributed to her elevation frequently met with a harsh rtifiwal when they asked favours ; " and," says an old historian, " when they bowed themselves down before her, she did not rise in return."' Meantime, the sorrowful (|ueen Matilda was mircmitting in liei' exertions for the liberation of lier unfortunate lord, who was at this time heavily ironed and ijjnominiously treated, by order of the empress.* Not oidy Enghmd, but Normandy was now lost to the captive monarch her husband tuid thoir vouiif; heir, prince Eustace ; for Geoffrey of Anjou, as soon us lie received intelligence of the decisive battle of Lincoln, per- suaded the Norman baronage to Av'thdraw their allegiance from their recently invested duke, and to transfer it to liis wife the empress and her son Henry, certainly the rightful heirs of William the Conqueror. The loss of regjU state and sovereign power was, however, regju'ded by the queen of Stephen as a matter of little moment. In the season o" adversity it wjis not the king, but the man, the husband of her youth and the father of her childi'cn, to whom the tender- hearted Matilda of Boulogne clung, with a devotion not often to be met with in the personal history of royalty. It was for Ids sake that she condescended to humble herself, by addi'css- iiig the mof t lowly entreaties to her haughty cousin, the empress Matilda, — to her who, if the report of some contem- poraiy clu-oniclers is to be credited, had betrsiyed her husband into a breach of his marriage vow. The insulthig scorn with wliich the empress rejected every petition which tiK; wedded wife of Stephen presented to her in behidf of lier fallen foe, looks like the vindictive spirit of a jeidous woman ; especially when we reflect, that not only the virtues of Matilda of Boulogne, but the closeness of her consanguinity to herself, required her to be treated with some degree of considera- tion and respect. There appears even to be a covert reference to the former position in which these princesses had stood, as rivals in Stephen's love, by the proposal made by his fond queen. She ' Gesta Stepliani Rogis. Thierry. ' Molmesbury. Speed. I !»' \i I I ! ' ! i ■ III k'l :!l: IM ,! ■. 216 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. proposed, if his life were but spared, to relinquish his society, and that he should not only for ever forego aU claims upon the crown and succession of England and Normandy, but taking upon himself the vows and habit of a monk, devote himself to a rehgious life, either as a pilgrim or a cloistered anchorite/ on condition that their son, prince Eustace, might be permitted to enjoy, in her right, the earldom of Boulogne and his father's earldom of Mortagne, the grant of Hemy I. Her petition was rejected by the victorious empress with no less contempt than all the others which Stephen's queen had ventured to prefer, although her suit in this instance was backed by the powerful mediation of Henry de Blois. This prelate, who appears to have thought more of peace than of brotherhood, was not only desirous of settling public order on such easy terms for his new sovereign, but willing to seciiTi to his nephew the natiu-al inheritance of his parents, of wliich the empress's party had obtained possession. So bhnd, how- ever, was this obdurate princess in pm'suing the headlong impulse of her Aindictive natm'e, that nothing could induce her to perceive how much it was her interest to grant the prayer of her unhappy cousin j and she repulsed the suit of Henry de Blois so rudely, that, when next summoned to her presence, he reftised to come. Queen Matilda improved this difference between her haughty rival and her brother-in-law to her own advantage ; and, having obtained a private interview with liim at Guildford, she prevailed on him, by the eloquence of lier tears and entreaties, to absolve all her husband's party whora, as pope's legate, he had a few days before excomnmuicatcd, and to enter into a negotiation >vith her for the dehvcrance of his brother.- ■ Nor did queen Matilda rest here. In the name of lier son, prince Eustace, aided by William of Ypres, Stephen's able but unpopular minister of state, she raised the staiidiud of her captive lord in Kent and Surrey, where a strong party was presently organized in his favour ; and finding tliat there was nothing to be hoped for from her obdurate kinswoman, the empress Matilda, on any other terms but the unreason- * Y-Potligiuu NeiLstria. Spcixl. Pepin. ' Speed. Tyrrell. ^UTILDA OF BOULOGNE. 217 cicty, upon , but, ievote istcred might ilogne, jmy I. itli no en had Lce was This than of rdcr on ) SCCIU", »f which 1(1, how- leadlong [luce her e prayer IcMy de presence, ilitreuce her o\vii ivith liim e of her y whom, inicated, iliverauce ^e of her Stephen's standai'd |)ng parly hat there liswomau, hnreason- ^rreU. able one of giving up her own fair inheritance, slie, like a true daughter of the heroic house of Boulogne, and the niece of the illustrious Godfrey and Baldwin, prepared herself for a struggle with such courageous energy of mind and prompti- tude of action, that many a recreant baron was shamed into quitting the inglorious shelter of his castle, and leading forth his vassals to strengthen the muster of the royal heroine. In the pages of superficially written histories, much is said of the prgwess and military skill displayed by prince Eustace at this period ; but Eustace was scarcely seven years old at the time when these efforts were made for the deh'verance of his royal sire. It is therefore plain, to those who reflect on the evidence of dates, that it was the high-minded and prudent queen, his mother, who avoided all Amazonian display by acting under the name of her son. Her feminine virtues, endearing qualities, and conjugal devotion, had ah'eady created the most powerful interest in her favour ; Avhile reports of the pride and hardness of heart of her stem relative and name- sake, the new domina, began to be industriously circulated through the land by the offended legate, Henry de Blois.* William of Malmesbury mentions, expressly, that the empress Matilda never bore or received the title of regina, or queen of England, but that of domina, or lady of Enghind. On her broad seal, which she caused to be made for her royal use at Winchester, she entitles herself " Roraanorum Regina Mac- thildis ;" and in a charter granted by her, just after the death of her brother and champion, Robert earl of Gloucester, she styles herself " Regina Romanorum, et Domina Anglorum." The seal to which we have just alluded bears the figure of the grand-daughter of the Norman conqueror, cro^vned and seated on the King's-bench, with a sceptre in her right hand, but bearing neither orb nor dove, the symbols of sovereign power and mercy. She was not an anointed queen, neither had the crowii-royal ever been placed on her brow.^ The > Tyrrell. * We arc indebted for a di-awing of the iinprcsaion of another seal pertaining to Matilda the empress, to the kindness of Miss Miu*y AgUonby, who has ele- pmtly delineated it from a deed Iwlonging to her family. 'I'ho head-dress of tlie emi'icss is simpler than that above mentioned, the veil bchig confined by I : I !;i I <■ ■ ! ' tli i I f' i 218 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. garland of fleurs-de-lis, by which the folds of her matronly wimple are confined, is of a simpler form than the ro\al diadems of the Anglo-Norman sovereigns, as shown on the broad seals of Wdham Rnfus, Henry I., and Stephen. Pro. bably an alteration would have been made, if the coronation of Matilda, as sovereign of England, had ever taken place. But the consent of the city of London Avas an in(hspeusable preliminary to her inauguration ; and to London she proceeded in person, to obtain this important recogrution. Though the majority of the city authorities were disposed to favour the cause of Stephen, for the sake of his popidar consort, Matilda of Boulogne, the Saxon citizens, when they heard that " the daughter of Molde, their good queen," claimed their homage, looked with reverence on her elder claim, and threw open their gates to receive her with every manifestation of afffection, The first sentence addressed to them by this hauglity claimant of the crown of St. Edward, was the demand of an enormous subsidy. The citizens of London rephed by inquiring after the great charter granted by her father. " Ye are veiy impuvlent to mention privileges and charters to me, when ye have just been supporting my enemies," was the gracious rejoin- der.* Her wise and vaHant brother, Robert of Gloucester, who stood by her side, immediately perceiv ng that the citizens of London w ere incensed at this intimation of their new sove- reign's intention to treat them as a conquered people, endea- voured to soothe their offended pride by a conciliatory address, commencing, — "Ye citizens of London, who of olden time were called barons " Although the heroic Robei*t was a most complete and graceful orator, his courteous language failed to atone to tlie Londoners f the arrogance of their new liege lady. Her uncle, king David, was present at this scene, and earnestly persuaded the empress to adopt a more popular line of conduct, a mere twisted fillet, such a« we see beneath helmets and crests in heraldic blazonry. Tlie inscription, in Roman letters, is s • Mathildis 'UEi- ohatia" KOMANOKUM ' KKGiNA. The manner of sitting, and the arrangement of tlic drapery on the knees, resemble the j)ortrait of the mother of the empress described in her biography. * J. P. Andrews. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 219 but in vain.* After a strong discussion, the Londoners craved leave to retire to their hall of common council, in order to provide the subsidy. Meantime, the empress sat do^vn to her midday meal in the banqueting-hall of the new palace at Westminster, in confident expectation that the civic authorities of London would soon approach to oflFer, on their knees, the bags of gold she had demanded.'^ A dessert of a different kind aAvaited her, for at that momentous crisis a band of horsemen appeared on the other side of the river, and displayed the banner of Stephen's consort, Matilda of Boulogne. The bells of every church in London rang out a clamorous tocsin, and from every house rushed forth, as had doubtless been previously concerted, one champion at the least, and in many instances several, armed with whatever weapons were at hand, and sallied forth to do battle in defence of the rights and liberties of the city; "just,"sa3^s the old chronicler, "like bees swarm- ing about the hive when it is attacked.*' The Norman and Angeyin chevahers, under the command of the vahant earl of Gloucester, found they stood little chance of withstanding tliis resolute nmster of the London patriots in their own narrow crooked streets. They therefore hastened to provide for the safety of their domina. She rose in haste from table, mounted her horse, and fled with her foreign retinue at fiill speed ; and she had urgent cause for haste, for before she had well cleared the western suburb, the populace had burst into the palace, and were plundering her apartments.^ The fugitives took the road to Oxford ; but before the haughty domina arrived there, her train had become so small with numerous desertions, that, mih. the exception of Robert of Gloucester, she entered it alone.^ A strong reaction of popular feeling in favour of Stephen, or rather of Stephen's queen, followed this event. The counties of Kent and Surrey were already her own, and prepared to support her by force of arms; and the citizens of London joyfully received her within their walls once more. Henry de Blois had been induced, more than once, to meet his royal ' Tliierry. S|)eed. Stowe. Lingard. ' Carruthers' Hist, of Scotland, p. 341. ' Chronicle quoted in Knight's London. * Ibid. Thierry. Lingard. Stowc. ! = M^ li- 1. ■■sip i I i I iil .1 : i !i lii ■ i nl lii ^1 M 4- 220 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. si -:...| sister-in-law secretly at Guildford. Thither she brought the young prince, her son/ to assist her in moving his powerful uncle to lend his aid in replacing her husband on the tlu'one. Henry, de Blois, touched by the tears and entreaties of these interesting supphcants, and biu*ning with rage at the insolent treatment he had received from the imperial virago, whom Camden quaintly styles ' a niggish old wife,' solemnly promised the queen to forsake the cause of her rival. Immediately ou his return to Winchester the prelate fortified his castle, and having prepared all things for declaring liimself in favoiu' of his brother, he sent messengers to the queen, begging her to put herself at the head of the Kentishmen and Londoners, and march with her son, prince Eustace, to Winchester.-' Tlie empress Matilda and the earl of Gloucester having some intelligence of Henry de Blois* proceedings, advaiicec from Oxford, accompanied by David king of Scotland, at tlie head of an array, to overawe him. When they approached the walls of Winchester, the empress sent a herald to the legate, requesting a conference, as she had something of im- portance to communicate; but to this requisition Henry de Blois only rephed, " Parabo me"^ that is, " I will prepare myself;" and finding that the Norman party in Winchester was at present too strong for him, he left the city, and retired to his strong castle in the subiu-bs, causing, at the same time, so imexpected an attack to be made on the empress, that she had a hard race to gain the shelter of the royal citadel " To comprise," says Wilham of Malmesbury, " a long scries of events within narrow limits, the roads on every side of Winchester were watched by the queen, and the earls who had come with lier, lest supplies should be brought in to those who had sworn fidelity to the empress. Andover was burned, and the Londoners lijiving assmned a martial atiiiude, lent all the assista*ic to treat him otherwise."-^ \ loss psirtial v^ter v;ould Ivwe ^iveii the queen due praise for the magnanimity with w)ii(;)i b .{.' actttl^ under circumstances that might Avell have justi'H 1 the siemest reprisals for his harsh usage of her cupti'^e lord; but the fact spoke for itself, and Avon more heiirts for the queen than the wedth of England and Nor- muudy combined could pm'chase for her lu\ughty namesake and rival. ^leantime the empress, M-hose safe retreat to Lutgershall had been thus dearly purchased by the loss of her great general's hberty, being hotly pm'sued by the queen's ti'oops to Devizes, only escaped their vigilance by personating a corpse, wrapped in grave-clothes, and being placed in a coffin, whicli was bound with cords, and borne on the shoiUders of some of her trusty pjirtisaus to Gloucester, the stronghold of her vahant brother, where she arrived, faint and weary with long fasting and mortal terror.^ Her party was so dispirited by the loss of her approved counsellor and trusty champion, the earl of Gloucester, tliat she M as compelled to make some overtm'es to the queen, her cousin, for his release. But Matilda would hear of no other terms than the restoration of her captive husb>M . 'ciiig Stephen, in exchange for him. This the empress pei torily revised, * Willian ' Vfalmesbury. ^ Ik>J. ^^ le&'s edition, ' !• on. Jolin of Tincmoutli. G Anightou. person ( empress, the restc private i their iUu should b son, witl detained faith by left in th release ol Matilt hesitated putting Gloucestc ^^f'vembr departed Glouceste MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 223 in the first instance, though she offered a large sum of gold, and twelve captive earls of Stephen's party, as her brother's ransom. Queen Matilda was inflexible in her determination never to resign this important prisoner on any other condition than the release of her royal husband. As this condition was rejected, she caused the countess of Gloucester to be informed, that unless her terms were accepted, and that speedily, she would send Gloucester to one of her strong castles in Boulogne,^ there to be kept as rigorously as Stephen had been by the orders of the empress and her party. Not that it was in the geutle nature of the queen to have made these harsh reprisals on a gallant gentleman, whom the fortune of war had placed at her disposal , but as the captive king was incarcerated in Bristol-castle, of which the said countess of Gloucester was the chateUaine, there was sound policy in exciting her conjugal fears. Had it not been for tliis threat, Stephen would never have regained his liberty, for important as her brother's presence was to the empress, she obdurately refused to purchase his freedom by the release of the king. Fortunately the person of Stephen was in the keeping, not of the vindictive empress, but the countess of Gloucester ; and her anxiety for the restoration of her lord led to the arrangement of a sort of private treaty between her and the queen for the exchange of their illustrious prisoners ; by which it was agreed, that Stephen should be enlai'ged forthwith on condition that liis queen and son, mth two of the leading nobles of his party, should be detained as hostages in Bristol-castle, to ensm'e his keeping faith hy hberatin^- the earl of Gloucester, whose son was to be left in the king's possession at Winchester, as a surety for the release of the queen and prince Eustace. Matilda, the most tenderly devoted of conjugal heroines, hesitated not to procure the enjfranchisement of her lord by putting herself and her hoy into the hands of the countess of Gloucester. This she did on the festival of AU Saints, Novembc , 1141, on wh.v^i day Stephen was liberated, and departed irom Bristol on his way to \': Inchestcr. The earl of Gloucester being brought to liim there from Eochester-castle, * Malraesbury. Ill I . in 5 fc?:| j"! r '■ 1 In 1 (. i ! I ! : M I i . . t I 1 i.li r ! K '■ » 224 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. received his freedom, and on the third day after set out for Bristol, leaving his son with Stephen as a pledge for the release of the queen and prince. Matilda, who had remained a volunttuy; but of course a most anxious prisoner in the stronghold of her foes, was emancipated as soon as he arrived and hastened to rejoin her husband at Winchester, and to send the heir of Gloucester back to his parents. Few episodes in the personal history of royalty are more interesting thau this transaction, none better authenticated, being narrated bv WilUam of Malmesbury, whose book is dedicated to one of the principal actors engaged in this drama, — his patron, Robert earl of Gloucester Queen Matilda was not long permitted to enjoy the re-union which took place between her and her beloved consort, after she had succeeded in procuring his deliverance from the fette/s of her vindictive rival ; for nothing could induce the empress to hsten to any terms of pacification, and the year 1143 com- menced with a mutual renewal of hostilities between the belhgerent parties. While Stephen was pui'suing the war with the fury of a newly enfranchised lion, he was seized with a dangerous malady at Northampton. Matilda hastened to him on the first news of his sickness, which was so sore, that for some hours he was supposed to be dead. In all probability, his illness was a return of the lethargic complaint with which he had once or twice been afflicted at the commencement of the internal troubles of his realm. Through the tender attentions of his queen, Stephen was recovered, and soon after able to take the field again ; which he did with such success, that the empresses party thought it high time to claim the assistance of Geoffrey count of Anjou, who was now exercising the functions of duke of Normandy. Geoffrey, who had certamly been treated by his imperial spouse, her late father king Henry, and her English partisans, as " a fellow of no reckoning,'^ thought proper to stand on ceremony, and required the formahty of an invitation, prefeiTcd by the earl of Gloucester in person, before he woidd either come himself, or part Avith the precious heir of England and Normandy, prince Henry. The empress, impatient tc embrace MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 225 her first-bom son, and to obtain the Angevin and Norman succours to strengthen her party, prevailed upon her brother to undertake this mission. Gloucester left her, as he thought, safe in the almost im- pregnable castle of Oxford, and embarked for Normandy. As soon as he was gone, Stephen besieged the empress in her stronghold. The want of provisions rendered its fall in- evitable, and there was then every hope of concluding the war by the capture of the haughty domina. By a shrewd exercise of femiJe ingenuity, she eluded the vengeance of her exaspe- rated rival. One night she, with only four attendants, clothed in white garment ,, stole through a postern that opened upon the river Thames, which at that time was thickly frozen over and covered with snow.* The white draperies in which the empress and her little train were enveloped from head to foot, prevented the sentinels from distinguishing their persons, as they crept along with noiseless steps under the snow-banks, till they were at a sufficient distance from the castle to exert their speed. They then fled Anath headlong haste, through the blinding storms that drifted fiill in their faces, as they scampered over hedges and ditches, and heaps of snow and ice, till they reached Abingdon, a distance of six miles, where they took horse, and arrived safely at Wallingfbrd the same night.* The Saxon annals aver that the empress was let down from one of the towers of Oxford-castle by a long rope, and that she fled on foot all the long weary miles to Wallingford. On her arrival there she was welcomed by her brother, Robert of Gloucester, who had just returned from Normandy with her son prince Henry ; *^ at the sight of whom," say the chroniclers, " she was so greatly comforted, that she forgot all her troubles and mortifications for the joy she had of his pre- Thus we see that the sternest natures are accessible sence ».") to the tender influences of maternal love, powerful in the heart of an empress as in that of a peasant. Geoffrey count of Anjou, having no great predilection for the company of his Juno, thought proper to remain in Nor- ' M. Paris. W. . unaesbury. Sim. Dnnelm. Y-Podigma NeustriR. ' Y-Podigma Neuhtria, Malmesbury. Speed. !Kapin. ^ Gorvase. VOL. I. Q 1 -^^ 1 , ■ 1 i 1 ' i M I ii- r'ii \\mf |i 'i'S'.i • i I ' I il '..1 1 'M i i, ^ li "'■ M ■■ '■ i 1 1 I ■ ■|' ; 1 , i ■1 ^ 1 " !'!''■■ |. ■ It' ! ' ;i N V 1 ! 226 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. iKnifrBi mnm ,^,:psst mandy with his son, the younger Geoffrey of Anjou. After three years of civil strife, during which the youthful Henry learned the sciruce of arras under the auspices of his re- doubted uncle, fhf* carl of Gloucester, Geoffrey recalled his heir. Earl Roinni, ot (jiioucester accompanied his princely ^Ikve to Wprenani, rtiie/e they parted,' never to meet again; for the bravf earl died of a fever at Gloucester, October 31, 1147, and was interred at Bristol. With this great man and true-hearted brother died the hopes of the empress Matilda's party lor the present, and '^^:' ifter quitted England, having alienated all her friends by the ungovernable violence of her temper, and her overweening haughtmess. The great sei vet of government consists, mainly, in an accurate knowledge of Ihe human heart, by which princes acquire the art of con- ciliating the affections of those around them, and, by graceful condescensions, win the regard of the lower orders, of whom the great body of the nation, emphatically called ' the people,' is composed. The German education and the self-sufficiency of the empress prevented her from considering the importance of these things, and, as a matter of course, she fai^ i in oh- taining the great object for which she contended. " Away with her 1" was the cry of the English population; " we will not have this Norman woman to reign over us "' Yet this unpopulai- claimant of the throne was the only sur- viving child and representative of their adored queen ]^Tatilda, the daughter of a Saxon princess, the descendant of the great Alfred. Bu ^he virtues o+ Matilda of Scotland, her holy spirit, and her graces of miud and manners had been in- herited, not by her daughter, (who was removed in her tender childhood fror. u^ider the r.mtemal i^ the Itegent's-park, and affords a delightfid aBylum and ample maintenance for a limited number of those favoured ladies who, preferrhig a life of maiden meditation and independence to the care-worn patlis of matrimony, are fortunate enouirh to obtain sisterships. A nun of St» Katherhie may truly be considered in a state of single blessedness, ^ Stowe. q2 ^i n-y. I ■ ! : 1 ■ I ¥- ■ I; 1 i- \ 1 li I 228 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. being her desire to be interred within that stately church, which she liad planned with such noble taste. There u great probability that she was at this time in decUning hciUth, haviug gone through many Pore trials and fatigues, both of mind and body, during the long protracted years of civil war. The care of tliis popular queei\, that the humbler portion of her subjects slioidd be provided with proper accommoilation for their comfort during public worship, caused her to found the noble church of St. Mary at Southampton, of which that faithful antiquary, Leland, gives the following quaint and cli iractcristic particulars: — "There is a chapel of St. Nicholas, a ^loor aijd small thing, yet standing, at the east end of St. Marie's church, in the great cemetery, Avhcre it is said the old parish church of Old Hampton stood. One told me there, that the littleness of this church was the cause of the erection of the great church of Our Ladye, now standing, by this occasion : one Matilde, queen of England, asked * What it meant that a great number of people walked about the church of St. Nicholas ?' and one answered, ' It is for lack of room in the chiu*ch.' Then she, ejp voto, promised to make them a new, and this was the original of St. Marie church. This queen Matilde, or some other good person following, thought to have this made a collegiate church, but this purpose succeed did not fidly."' The repose of cloistered seclusion, and heavenward employ- menf in works of piety and benevolence, whereby the royal Matilda sought to charm away the excitement of the late fierce struggle in wliich she had been forced to take so active a part, were succeeded by fresh anxieties of a pohtical nature, caused by the return of the yoimg Henry Fitz-Empress in the following year (1149), and by the evident intention of her uncle, David of Scotland, to support his cluinis. TIjc king her husband, apprehending that an attack on the city of York was meditated, flew to arms once more^ on which Dand, after conferring knighthood on his youtliM kinsman, retired into Scotland, and prince Henry returned to Normandy, not feeling himself strong enough to bide the event of a battle ' Leland'H Itinerary, vol. iii. ; scconil edition. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 229 witli Stephen at that period.' A hricf interval of tranquillity succeeded the departure of these invading kinsmen ; hut queen Matilda lived not long to enjoy it. Worn out with cares and anxieties, this amiable princess closed her earthly pilgrimage at Heningham-castle in Essex, the mansion of Alberic de Vere, wlierc she died of a fever. May 3rd, 1151, in the fifteenth year of her husband's reign. Stephen was forty-seven years old at the time of tliis liis irreparable loss; Matilda was probably about the same age, or a little younger. This lamented queen waa interred in the newly erected abbey of Feversham, of which she had been so munificent a patroness, having endowed it with her own royal manor of Lillechurch, which she gave to William of Ypres for his demesne of Feversham, the spot chosen by her as the site of tliis noble monastic establishment, which was dedicated to St. Saviour, and filled with black monks of Cluny. The most valued of all the gifts presented by queen Matilda to her favourite abbey, was a portion of the holy cross, which had been sent by her illustrious uncle, Godfrey of Boulogne, from Jerusalem, and was, therefore, regarded as doubly precious, none but heretics presuming to doubt of its being ' vera crux.^^ "Here," says that indefatigable antiquary, Weever, ''lies interred Maud, wife of king Stephen, the daughter of Eustace earl of Boulogne (brother of Godfrey and Baldvein, kings of Jerusalem) by Mary Atheling, (sister to Matilda Atheling, wife to Henry, her husband's predecessor). She died at Heningham-castle in Essex, the 3rd of May, 1151; whose epitaph I found in a nameless manuscript. " Anno milleno C. quinquagenoque primo, Quo sna non minuit, scd sibi nostra tnlit, Mathildis felix conjux Stophani quoque Regis Occidit, insignis moribus et titulis ; Cultrix vera Dei, cultrix et paupcriei. Hie subnixa Deo, quo ftnicretur eo. Femina si qua Folos conscendere queque meretiir, Augelicis inauibus diva ha3« Kegina tenetur," The monastic Latin of this inscription may be thus rendered . " In the year one thousand one hundred and fifty-one, not to lier own, but to our great loss, the happy Matilda, the wife of ' Roffer Hovedca. * Robert of Gloucester. lii^ 1 , it ;! f f K.i ^1 ! !:■■■' I/' . :" ?30 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. king Stephen, died, ennobled by her virtues as by her titles. She was a true worshipper of God, and a real patroness of the poor. She hved submissive to God, that she might afterwards enjoy his presence. If ever woman deserved to be carried by the hands of angels to heaven, it was this holy queen.'' Queen Matilda left three surviving children by her mar- riage with Stephen : Eustace, WiUiam, and Mary. The eldest, prince Eustace, was, after her death, despatched by Stephen to the coiul; of his royal brother-in-law, Louis VII., to sohcit his assistance in recovering the duchy of Normandy, which, on the death of Geoffrey of Anjou, had reverted to Henry Fitz-Empress, the rightful heir. Louis, who had good reason for displeasure against Henry, re-invested Eustace with the duchy, and received his homage once more. Stephen then, in the hope of securing this beloved son's succession U the Eughsh throne, endeavoured to prevail on the archbishop of Canterbury to crown him as the acknowledged lieu' of England. But neither the archbishop, nor any other prelate, could be induced to perform this ceremony, lest, as they said, ''they should be the means of involving the kingdom once more in the horrors of civil war."' According to some his- torians, Stephen was so exasperated at this refusal, that he shut all the bishops up in one house, declaring his intention to keep them in ward till one or other of them yielded obedience to his will. The archbishop of Canterbury, however, suc- ceeded in making his escape to Normandy, and persuaded Henry Plantagenet, who, by his marriage with Eleanor duchess of Aquitaine, the divorced queen of France, had become a powerful prince, to try his fortune once more in England. Henry, who had now assumed the titles of duke of Nor- mandy and Aquitaine, and count of iVnjou, landed in England, January 1153, before preparations were made to oppose liis victorious progress. He marched directly to the relief of his mother's friends at Wallingford, and arrived at a time when Eustace was carrying on operations in the absence of the king his father, who had gone to London to prociu-e fresh eupplies of men and money. Eustace maintained his position * Rupin. MATILDA OP BOULOGNE. '231 till the return of Stephen, when the hostile armies drew up in battle-array, with the intention of deciding the question between the rival claimants of the crown, at swords' points. An accidental circumstance prevented the deadly eflFusion of kindred blood from staining the snows of the wintry plain of Egilaw. " That day Stephen's horse,'' says Matthew Paris, " reared furiously thrice, as he advanced to the front to array his battle, and thrice fell with his fore-feet flat to the eai:th, and threw his royal rider. The nobles exclaimed it was a portent of evil, and the men murmured among themselves;* on which the great William de Albini, the widower of the late dowager -queen AdeUcia, took advantage of the> pause which this superstitious panic on the part of Stephen's ad- herents had created, to address the king on the horrors of civil war ; and reminding him of the weakness of his cause, and the justice of that of his opponent, implored him to avoid the slaughter of his subjects, by entering into an amicable arrangement with Henry Plantagenet." Stephen and Henry accordingly met for a personal con- ference in a meadow at Wallingford, with the river Thames flowing between their armies, and there settled the terms of pacification ; Avhereby Stephen was to enjoy the crown during his life, on condition of solemnly guaranteeing the succession to Henry Plantagenet, to the exclusion of his own children.' Henry, on his part, Fwore to confirm to them the earldom of Boulogne, the inheritance of their mother, the late queen Matilda, and all the personal property and possessions enjoyed by Stephen during the reign of his micie, Henry I. After the treaty was ratified, William de Albini first aflfixing his sign manual, as the head of the barons, by the style and title of WilHam earl of Chichester,^ Stephen unbraced his armour in token of peace, and Henry saluted him as 'king,' adding the endearing name of ' father / and if Polydore Vergil and other chroniclers who relate this incident are to be believed, not Avithout good reason. Of a more romantic character, however, is the circumstan- ' Henry of Huntingdon. Lord Lyttelton. Siieod, Tierney's Arundel. ' Tierney's Arundel. Matthew Paris. Speed. ^ Tierney's Arundfll. I \ < I '\ I '■ I ^ \'\ 1.1. ?-9 „ \ i m\\ ^M: i niH. \i: I ill J ' i ! ' ■ ;•»'••■ 233 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. tial account of the cause of this pacification, as related hy that courtly historian Matthew Paris, which, though he only men- tions it as a report, is of too remarkable a nature to be omitted here. We give the passage in his own words : " The empress, they say, who had rather have been Stephen's para- mour than his foe, when she saw him and her son arrayed against each other, and their armies ready to engage on Egilaw-Heath, caused king Stephen to be called aside, and coming boldly up to him, she said, ' What mischievous and tumatural thing go ye about to do ? Is it meet the father should destroy the son, or the son to kill the sire ? For the love of the most high God, fling down your weapons from your hands, sith that (as thou well knowest) he is indeed thine own son : for you well know how we twain were acquaint before I wedded Geoffrey !' The king knew her words to be sooth, and so came the peace/" ., « , ' •■ No other historian records that the empress was in England at this period, much less that she was the author of the pacifi- cation. Lord Lyttelton, however, in his history of Henry II., says, " that at one of his interviews with Stephen, previous to the settlement of the succession on Henry, that prbice is stated by an old author to have claimed the king for his father, on the confession of the empress, when she supposed herself to be on a death-bed." Rapin also mentions the report. That which lends most colour to the tale is the fact, that the empress Matilda's second son Geoffrey, on the death of his father, set up a claim to the earldom of Anjou, grounded on the supposed illegitimacy of prince Henry. The im- gracious youth even went so far as to obtain the teatimony of the Angevin barons, who witnessed the la«t moments of the count his father, to the assertion " that the expiring Geoffrey, named him as the successor to his dominions, because he suspected his elder brother to be the son of Stephen."* Prince Eustace was so much enraged at the mamier in which his interests had been compromised by the treaty of Wallingford, that he withdrew in a transport of indignation from the field ; and gathering together a sort of free company * Matthew Paris. ' Vita Gaufredi de Normandi. 1 I «^™DA of BOBtOGNE. of the malcontent adherenf« ^ i,- * ^^^ towards Bury St F^i 7. ""^ ^'^ father's nartv L "?* °f B„^ ^^^ ^^«f whieh he'XTd The" refresh his mt^n. k i. i ^^ honourablv o« i ^' ^^® "f ™en; but he stpmiTr '^»'"iy, and offei-P/l f« for meat but mni^^ ^/ ^'^^""J replied ''Th»f i. ^^^^ to and other p™„-,i;„Vj!.7!««te^, and order^"'^'!?''^*^' miesiastics to h^T T""S™§r to these oml 7 , ., ^ •*"» »" "*h™ «^42r't^''^ °- -tTe?'„™^tT'''"<' fat morsel of met I, " *™^'- in a fre^," , '"' *'»™; fe ch^niellrX 'r:,:^^*. '» -«"■"• "Se^'hi::!^*''^ Accordinff to nfi, /^^^^tes this act of wrn« i ' ^^J^^ P™«, though of tender al '! ^'=™'^'^° howe'n/ «OKe of thp pj . ,^^ ^S^, entered mir. „ *^*=^er, this ' * ""« opportunity of a. J, i ''"^ *"« 'n lil ■ ■■ • ■ 1 ( 1 ■1 H-: : ■! i' 1 l-.\ . i .^ *'/E ^ '.>■■ -Mil m ■ 234 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. Williain's fall to ride off at full speed.to Canterbury, and soon after sailed for Normandy. It does not appear that he bore any iU-will against WiEiam de Blois for this treacherous design as he afterwards knighted liim, and confirmed to lum his mother's earldom, and whatever was possessed by Stephen before his accession to the throne, lliis prince died in tlie year 1160, Avhile attending Henry II. on his return home from the siege of Thoulouse. The lady Marie de Blois, the only surviving daughter of Stephen and Matilda, took the veil, and was abbess of the royal nunnery of Romsey, in which her grandmother, Mary of Scotland, and her great aunt, Matilda the good queen, were educated. When her brother William coimt of Boulogne died without issue, the people of Boulogne, desiring to have her for their countess, Matthew, the brother of Phihp count of Flanders, stole her from her convent, and marrying her, became in her right count of Boulogne. She was his wife ten years, when, by sen^^ence of the pope, she was divorced from liim, and forced to return to her monastery. She had two daughters by this marriage, who were allowed to be legi- timate ; and Ida, tlie eldest, inherited the earldom of Boulogne, in right of her grandmother MatDda, Stephen's queen. Stephen died at Dover, of the ihac passion, October 25th, 1154, in the fifty-first year of his ago, and the nineteenth of his reign. He was buried by the side of his beloAcd queen Matilda, and their unfortunate son Eustace, in the abbey of Feversham. " His body rested here in quietness," says Stowe, " till the dissolution ; when, for the trifling gain of the lead in which it was lapped, it was taken up, uncoffined, and plunged into the river, — so uncertain is man, yea, the greatest princes, of any rest in this world, even in the matter of burial." Honest old Speed, by way of conclusion to thjs quotation from his brotlier chronicler, adds this anathema : " And restless may their bodies be also, who, for filthy lucre, thus deny the dead the quiet of their graves !" A nt)ble monument of Stephen and Matilda still sur^^vcs the storms and changes of the last seven centuries, — tlie ruins of Fumess-abbey. That choicest gem of the exquisite ecclesi- ■<■*■•• "I ■)V MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 235 d soon le bore design, lim his Stephen . in the 1 home ghter of s of the ;r, Mary sen, were Boulogne ; to have ilip count ying her, 5 his wife \ divorced She had to be kgi- I Boulogne, en. )ber 25th, letcenth of )vc(l queen i abbey of ays Stowe, be lead in d plunged st princes, f burial." cjuotation ud restless .8 deny tk lill surmcs -the ruiiis site ecclesi- astical architecture of the twelfth century was founded, in conjugal unity of purpose, by them soon after their marriage, July 1st, 1127, when only earl and countess of Boulogne. On acquiring the superior rank and power of king and queen of England, they gave additional gifts and immunities to this abbey. The transferred brotherhood of St. Benedict, who were thus enabled by the mimificence of the royal pair to plant a church and monastic establishment of muivalled grandeur in the sequestered valley of Bekansgill, or the vale of * the deadly nightshade,' as that spot was then called in Lancashire, were not occupied merely in singing and pmying for the souls of theii' august foimders and their cliildren, although the customs of that age rendered the performance of these offices an indis- pensable obligation on the part of the community, in return for endoMTnents of lands, but the real objects for which the monks of Fumess were rendered recipients of the bounty of Matilda and her lord were the civilization and cultivation of the ^vildest district of England. Whatever evils might result in after ages from the abuses wiiich a despotic theocracy introduced into theip- practice, the statistic benefits conferred by these English fathers of the desert on the coimtry were undeniable. They drained morasses, cleared jungles, — the haunts of wild beasts and robbers, and converted them into rich pastures and arable lands ; wliile they taught a barbarous and predatory population to provide honestly for the wants of life by the practice of agriculture and the various handicrafts which a progressive state of society renders necessary, and even instructed those who possessed capabilities for higher pursuits, in the arts and sciences, which expand the intellect while they employ the mechanical powers of men. The extensive remains of Fmness-abbey, its clustered columns, glorious ai'ches, elaboratf y wrought corbels, delicate traceries, sublime elevations, and harmonious proportions, tell their cvn tale, not only of the perfection to which ai'chitecture and scidpture were carried imder the auspices of the accom- plished Matilda of Boulogne, but of the employment afforded to numerou-^ bands of workmen in various branches daring the erection of such a fabric. The busts of the royal founder and 1 1 •i:-H: 11 i-' 1 "1^^ rl ;! ■ i 1 \ , ■■ s ; ■ ' !■ ' il ■ !■. i ' t ; '' ■< ( ■ ■ i [ 1 . 1 '' ! 'ii 11 ;- i • i i ■■ ■ i 1 :■ 1 i ■ li. a i V4 236 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 4 foundress still remain on either side the lofty chancel window. Noble works of art they are, fidl of hfe-Uke individuality, and extremely characteristic of the persons they represent. Stephen is a model of manly beauty, with a bold and majestic aspect. They both wear their royal diadems. There is a chaste simplicity tnily classical in Matilda's attitude and costume. Her veil flows from beneath the royal circlet in graceful folds on either side her softly-moulded oval face. Her dress fits closely to her shape, and is ornamented in front with a mullet- shaped brooch. Her features are delicate and feminine, her expression sweet and modest, yet indicative of conscious dignity, and sufficiently touched with melancholy to remind us of the thorns which beset her queenly garland, during her severe struggles to support the defective title of her consort to the sovereignty of England. The portrait of Matills which \llvs- trates this biography is engraved from a drawin;^ made expressly for that purpose from the bust at Furness-abbey which we have just described, being the only contemporary memorial wliich preserves to posterity an authentic representation of tliis most iQteresting queen and admirable woman. m-. g^#«*v Niijjpgfiih(|i^ 1 .i'f:^ II' II u ''j^ ■■¥^4 1 J r i i \ \ \ '. -, / ^&zu/m ca^^i i.i4mi, Ilcip'' ?'■,'! b^iri: , ifi:)3 . ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, QUEEN OF HENRY II. CHAPTER I. Provencal queens — Country of Eleanora of Aquitaine — Her grandfather- Roath of her father — Her great inheritance— Miurriage — Becomes queen uf France — Beauty — She joins the crasaders — Her guard of Amazons -Eleanora and ladies encumber the army — Occasion defeat — lleftigo with queen's uncle — Eleanora's coquetries — Retiums to France — Her lUsgusts — Taunts — Henry Plantagenet — Scandals — Birth of infant princess — Eleanora falls in love with Henry — Jealousies — She applies for divorce— Her marriage dissolved — Ketums to Aquitaine — Adventures on journey — Marries Hem-y Plantagenot —Birth of her son — Enables Henrj' to giun England — Henry's low tbv Rosamond — Returns to Eleanora — Suca«etls to the English throne — Klmuora crowned at Westminster — Costume — Bii-th of prince Henry — Quivu presents her infants to the barons — Death of her eldest son — Her coui-t — Tragedy played before her — Her husband — His character — RojI'.' ond discovered by the queen— Eleanora's children — Birth of prince Geoffi j —Eleanora regent of England — Goes to Normandy — Conclusion of empress Matilda's memoir — Matilda regent of Normandy — Mediates peace — Dit j — Her tomb — Eleanora Nonnan regent — She goes to Aquitaine. Hereditary sovereign of Aquitaine, by her first marriage queen of France, then queen-consort of Henry II., and sub- sequently regent of his realms, — ^liow many regalities did Elet»n v as divided. Throughout the whole tract of country, fl^'i K\;iiirre to the dominions of the dauphin of Auvergne, and fiOfr. sea to sea, the Proven9al language was spoken,— a language which combined the best points of French and Italian, and presented peculiar facilities for poetical composi- tion. It was called the lanyue d'oc, sometimes langue d'oc et no, the tongue of 'yes' and ^no;' because, instead of the out and non of the rest of France, the affirmative and negative were oc and no. The ancestors of Eleanora were called jvar excellence the lords of 'Oc' and 'No.' William IX., her grandfather, was one of the earliest professors and most libei'al patrons of the art. His poems were models of imitation for all the succeeding troubadours."^ The descendants of this minstrel hero were Eleanora and her sister Petronilla : they were the daughters of his son, William count de Poitou. Willi.am of Poitou wjis a pious ' Atlas Geographique, * SisnioncU'e Literatiire of the Soutb. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 239 dwells \itc(l to p of the the life 3e tliem nd. It nious of III the >ny were of Pro- )een dis- .quitaine, ) it ; and iiamt' for )f France ! ; and it rous iude- beautiful f country, A.uvergne, poken,— a ■encli and composi- m' d'oc et of the oui d negative called par IX., her ost hbeiid itation for :;anora and his sou, |jis a pious • the Soutb. U, county of n his prince, tl mited pro- ised nearly the .iiora of Chatel- prince, which, together with his death in the Holy Land, caused his father's subjects to call him Si. William. The mother of this prince was the great heiress Philippa" of Thou- louse, duchess of Guienne and Gascony. and countess of Thoulouse in her own right. Before P^iilippu married, her husband was William the seventh count of l^oitou and Saint- onge; afterwards he called hii,i>"H ''illiam ^V. duke of Aquitaine. He invested his eld( i, .' Poitou, who is termed William X. "1 the father of Eleanora, did not live vinccs of Poitou and Aquitaine, whi whole of the south of France ; his wife, herault, died in early life, in 1129. The father of Eleanora left Aquitaine in 1132, with his younger brother, Raymond of Poitou, who was chosen by the princes of the crusade that year to receive the hand of the heiress of Conrad pinnce of Antioch, and maintain that bul- wark of the Holy Land against the assaults of pagans and infidels. William fell, aiding his brother in this arduous contest J but Raymond succeeded in establishing himself a& prince of Antioch. The rich inheritance of Thoulouse, part of the dower of the duchess Philippa, had been pawned for a sura of money to the count of St. Gilles, her cousin, which enabled her son to undertake the expense of the crusade led by Robert of Normandy. The count St. Gilles took posses- sion of Thoulouse, and withheld it, as a forfeited mortgage, from Eleanora, who finally inlierited her grandmother's rights to this lovely province. The grandfather of Eleanora had been gay, and even licen- tious, in his youth ; and now, at the age of sixty-eight, he wished to devote some time, before his death, to penitence for the sins of his early Hfe. When his grand-daughter had attained her fourteenth year, he commenced his career of self- denial, by summoning the baronage of Aquitaine and com- municating his intention of abdicating in favour of his grand- daughter, to whom they all took the oath of allegiance.* He ' She is likewise called Matilda. — Rer. Script, de Franc, ' Suger. Ordericus Vitalis. \, , 'U ^ 1'^' ■1 u ■I \]& ;! n ( lis IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1^ Hi US 2 ,„„2 2 2.0 I 40 1.8 1.25 IM 1.6 111== ^s ^ 6" ► Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ? f/j r r. 1^ TMtf f his royal \ snmamed , as he was 1 existence, rho was de- Bourdeaux, lemnized as nded hy his iture destiny of 1 of perspiciuty. ants, dependent child, he fscrved education given jr, abbot Adam, ledictine order. rch, on account la, confided the lis ; and here a id Suger son of id at the chase, len he effected, in church and of the greatest IB accession go- prime-minLster. te, ratlier than conduct of the ouiB VII.-Vie ELEANORA OF AQUTTAINE. 24r two kinsmen, the warlike prince of Vermandois, and Thibaut the poet, count of Champagne. Louis and Eleanora were immediately married, with great pomp, at Bourdeaux ; and, on the solemn lesignation of duke William, the youthful pair were crowned duke and duchess of Aquitaine, August 1, 1137. On the conclusion of this grand ceremony, duke William,* grandsire of the bride, laid down his robes and insignia of sovereignty, and took up the hermit's cowl and staflp. He departed on a pilgrimage to St. James's of Compostella in Spain, and died soon after, very penitent, in one of the cells of that rocky wilderness.^ At the time when duke William resigned the dominions of the South to his grand-daughter, he was the most powerful prince in Europe. His rich ports of Bourdeaux and Saintonge supplied him with commercial wealth; his maritime power was immense ; his court was the focus of learning and luxury; and it must be owned that, at the accession of the fair Eleanora, this court had become not a little licentious. Louis and his bride obtained immediate possession of Foitou, Gascony, Biscay, and a large territory extending beyond the Pyrenees. The very day of the threefold solemnity of this abdication, and of the marriage and coronation of Eleanora, the news arrived that the reigning sovereign of France was struck by death, and that Louis and his young bride would be actually king and queen of France before the important day ' Montaigne, who speaks from his own local traditions of the South, asserts that duke William lived in his hermitage at Montserrat ten or twelve years, wearing, as a penance for his youthftil sins, his armour under his hermit's weeds. It is said by others, that he died as a hermit in a grotto at Florence, after having macerated Ids body by tremendous penances, and established the severe order of the Guillemines. Some historians call him St. William ; others give that holy prefix to the name of his son, who died in the crusades eleven years before the abdication of his sire. * To this great prince, the ancestor, through Eleanora of Aquitaine, of our royal line, may be traced armorial bearings, and a war-cry whose origin has not a little perplexed the readers of English history. The patron saint of England, St. George, was adopted from the Aquitaine dukes, as we find, from the MS. of the French herald, Gilles de Bonnier, that the duke of Aquitaine's mot, or war- cry, was " St. Qeorge for the puissant duke." His crest was a leopard, and his descendants in England bore leopards on their shields till after the time of Edward I. Edward III. is called 'valiant pard' in his epitaphs; and the emperor of Germany sent Henry III. a present of tlireo leopards, expressly saying they were in compliment and allusion to his armorial beaiiigs. VOL. I. B y 3 i|. 1 J^ . !■■ 1 i ' 11 i ■' ^^^^M. M li! tif ■ 'i;|' I m r n i. 242 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. of August 1, 1137, came to a close. The bride and bride- groom were urged by the minister, Suger, to set off for Paris. They accordingly commenced their journey from Bourdeaux with all their court ; they passed through Orleans, and calmed some imeutes of the French people on the road.' The death of the reigning king, Louis VI., is usually dated August 1st ; but that was, in all probability, the day on which, simul- taneously with his contemporary, duke William of Aquitaine, he laid down his royal power in favour of his successor. Louis VI. had, however, but a few days to Uve : it is expressly declared that he was alive at the time when the royal bride and bridegroom arrived at the abbey of St. Denis. Here they were admitted to the death-bed of this great sovereign, who addressed them in these memorable words : " Remember ! royalty is a pubUc trust, for the exercise of which a rigorous account will be exacted by Him who has the sole disposal of crowns and sceptres.*' So spoke the great legislator of France to the youthful pair, whose wedlock had united the north and south of France. On the conscientious mind of Louis VII. the words of his dying father were strongly im- pressed, but it was late in life before his thoughtless partner profited by them. K4: Louis VII. and queen Eleanora made a most magnificent entry into Paris from St. Denis, after the funeral rites of Louis VI. were performed. Probably the practice kep' by the new-married queens of France, of always making i jlic entry from St. Denis into the capital, originated at this important crisis. The influence the young queen soon acquired, speedily plunged her husband and France into bloody wars. She insisted on her relative, Raymond count of Thoulouse, being forced to acknowledge her sovereignty over that prorince. The prime-minister of France, Si^er, examined into the justice of her claims, and then informed her that her kinsman had fuUy proved that he held 'a good bill of sale' for Thoulouse. Suger therefore advised his royal master not to interfere ; as, if the justice of the case had been on the side of queen Eleanora, it was unwise to incur the expense of a '■.•/■ ad bride- for Paris, lourdeaux ans, and )ad/ The ed August ch, simul- Aquitaiue, successor. s expressly royal bride is. Here ; sovereign, lemember 1 a rigorous disposal of jgislator of united the us mind of jtrongly im- ;less partner magnificent jral rites of ;kep^ V ingi . ^lic is important red, speedily wrars. She louse, being at province, id into the Lcr kinsman sale' for jaster not to on the side jxpense of a ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 343 war at the commencement of a new reign. Eleanora, how- ever, prevailed with her royal lord : the war was undertaken, and proved unsuccessful. ' ' ■ " -"wi.' i:.iif. .vr. ,y jjji Eleanora was very beautiful ; she had been reared ir. all the accomplishments of the South ; she was a fine musi nan, and composed and sang the chansons and tensona of Proven9al poetry. Her native troubadours expressly inform us that she conld both read and write. The government of her dominions was in her own hands, and she frequently resided in her native capital of Bourdeaux. She was perfectly adored by her southern subjects, who always welcomed her with joy, and bitterly mourned her absence when she was obliged to return to her court at Paris, — a court whose morals were severe ; where the rigid rule of St. Bernard was observed by the king her husband, as if his palace had been a convent. Far different was the rule of Eleanora in the cities of the South. The political sovereignty of her native dominions was not the only authority exercised by Eleanora iu * gay Guieune.* She was, by hereditary right, chief reviewer and critic of the poets of Provence. At certain festivals held by her, after the custom of her ancestors,' called Courts of Love, all new sirventes and chansons were sung or recited before her by the troubadours. She then, assisted by a conclave of her ladies, sat in judgment, and pronounced sentence on their liievary merits. She was herself a popular troubadour poet. Her chansons were remembered long after death had raised a barrier against flattery, and she is reckoned among the authors of France.'* The decisions of the young duchess-queen in her troubadour Coiui;s of Love, have met with the reprobation of modem French historians,' on account of their immorality ; they charge her with avowing the startling opinion, that no true love could exist between married persons; and it is certaui, that the encouragement she gave to her sister Petro- nilla^ and the count Baoul of Vermandois, offered too soon a practical illustration of these evil principles. ' Sismondi. * Nostradamus, History of Provence. Du Cliesne. ' Michelet, History of France. * This yoTing princess is colled AUce and Pemelle, as well as Fetronilla. On^ of these names was her poetical cognomen, by which her native poeta, the r2 I. t 'i t ' '-U y^\ U' t \ '. .c V ir I Iff: t. ,;: H4i ii I* 344 ELEANORA OF AQUITAJNE. The amusements of queen Eleanora seemed little suited to the austere habits of Louis VII. ; yet she had the power of influencing him to commit the only act of wilful injustice which stains the annals of his reign. PetroniUa had made acquaintance with Raoul count of Vermandois at the mag. nificent festival at Bourdeaux, which comprised her royal sister's marriage and coronation. The beauty of Petronilla equalled that of queen Eleanora, but the young princess carried into practice her sister's avowed principles, and seduced Raoul of Vermandois from his wife. This prince had married a sister of the count of Champagne, whom he divorced for some frivolous pretext, and married, by queen Eleanora*s conni. vance, Petronilla. The count of Champagne laid his sister's wrongs before the pope, who commanded Vermandois to put away Petronilla, and to take back the injured sister of Champagne. Queen Eleanora, enraged at the dishonour of Petronilla, prevailed on her husband to punish the cdunt of Champagne for his interference. Louis VII., who already had cause of oflfence against the count, invaded Champagne at the head of a large army, and began a devastating war, in the course of which a most dreadfrd occurrence happened at the storming of Vitry : the cathedral, whereiu thirteen hun- dred persons had taken refuge, was burnt, and the poor people perished miserably. Abbd Suger, having in the question of the Thoulouse war experienced the evil influence of the young queen, had resigned his administration, and retired to his abbey of St. Denis j there he superintended the building of that beautifrd structure, which is stiU the admiration of Europe. But when the dreadM slaughter at Vitry took place, Suger was roused by the reproofs of his friend St. Bernard, who declared him to be responsible for all the iU, since Louis VII. had previously always acted by his advice. Suger in vain pleaded that his king had now a bosom counsellor, who pri- vately traversed his best advice ; that he had striven against her hifluence to the verge of hostiUty with his king, and troubadours, celebrated her. The countess of Tlioulouse, grandmother of this frail damsel, had likewise two names, neither of them conventuiil or saintly appellations, although she sought retirement in a convent after being divorced. r. , . . t • ;: ' 'i' u^Jt ' suited to power of injustice tad made the mag- al sister's I equalled rried into Baoul of ;d a sister for some a'a conni- lis sister's ois to put sister of shonour of 16 cdunt of ho already ;;!hampagne ing war, m ,appened at rteen hun- loor people ^uestion of the young ■ed to his ig of that |of Europe, lace, Suger lard, who iLouis VII. ;er in vain [r, who pri- on against king, and indniother of mventuul or it after l)cing ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE.- 24(f had retired, when he found he could do no good, to his duties JUS abbot, leaving the giddy Eleanora to reap the fruit she had planted.* It was at this juncture that St. Bernard preached the crusade at Vezalai, in Burgundy. King Louis and queen Eleanora, with aU their court, came to hear the eloquent saint ; and such crowds attended the royal auditors, that St. Bernard was forced to preach in the market-place, for no cathedral, how- ever large, could contain them. St. Bernard touched with so much eloquence on the murderous conflagration at Vitry, that the heart of the pious king Louis, full of penitence for the sad effects of his destructiveness on his own subjects, resolved to atone for it to the Grod of mercy, by carrying sword and fire to destroy thousands of his fellow-creatures, who had neither offended him, nor even heard of him. His queen, whose in- fluence had led to the misdeed at Vitry, likewise became penitent, and as sovereign of Aquitaine vowed to accompany her lord to the Holy Land, and lead the forces of the South to the relief of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. The mse and excellent Suger endeavoured to prevail on his royal master to relinquish his mad expedition to Syria, assuring him that it would bring ruin on his country ; he entreated him to stay and govern his dominions, and if the crusade must be undertaken, to permit the hot-headed young nobility to lead their vassals to the East without him. But the fanaticism of the king was proof against such persuasions : moreover, the romantic idea of becoming a female crusader had got into the light head of Eleanora his queen. Louis was dubious whether to take his queen on this expedition ; but as Suger was to be left regent of France during the crusade, he persuaded his royal master not to oppose her inclinations.'' Nor can it excite wonder that, if Louis VII. would go crusading against all reasonable advice, his wise prime-minister should wish him to take his troublesome partner in regality with him. Eleanora was sovereign of the South, with all its riches and maritime pwer; and when the specimens she had already given of her impracticable conduct are remembered, it will be allowed that a Ibid. * Vie de Suger. , ''1 ' til' H' I f H (1 i i 248 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. small chance had chancellor Suger's regency of peace and quiet, if the queen remained at home. "When queen Eleanora received the cross from St. Bernard, at Vezalai, she directly put on the dress of an Amazon ; and her ladies, all actuated hy the same frenzy, mounted on horse- back, and forming a lightly armed squadron, surrounded the queen when she appeared in public, calling themselves queen Eleanora's body-guard. They practised Amazonian exercises, and performed a thousand foUies in public, to animate their zeal as practical crusaders. By the suggestion of their young queen, this band of mad-women sent their useless distaffs, as presents, to aU the knights and nobles who had the good sense to keep out of the crusading expedition. This ingenious taunt had the effect of shaming many wise men out of their better resolutions ; and to such a degree was this mania of the crusade - carried, that, as St. Bernard himself owns, whole villages were deserted by their male inhabitants, and the land \eh to be tilled by women and children. It was on the Whit-Sunday of 1147 that, aU matters being ready for marching to the south of France, Louis VII. received the oriflamme' from the hands ■ of the pope himself at the abbey of St. Denis, and set forward after the Whit-holidays on his ill-advised expedition. Such * fellow-soldiers as queen Eleanora and her Amazons would have been quite sufficient to disconcert the plans and impede the projects of Hannibal himself; and though king Louis con- ducted himself with great ability and courage in his difficult enterprise, no prudence could counteract the misfortune of being encmnbered with an army of fantastic women. King Louis, following the course of the emperor Conrad, whose army, roused by the eloquence of St. Bernard, had just pre- ceded them, sailed up the Bosphorus, and landed in Thrace. The freaks of queen Eleanora and her female warriors were * The place of this standard, so celebrated in the history of France, is over the high altar of St. Denis, where its representative hangs now, or at least it did in the Bommer of 1844, then seen by the authors of this work. An older oriflamme, which is supposed to be coeval with the days of our Henry YI., is shown in the treasury of St. Denis : the colour is, or has been, a bright red, the texture shot with gold. It is a horizontal flag, wedge-shaped, but cut into a swallow-tail at the end. It appears to have hung on a cross-bar at the top of the flag-staff, and has rings to be attached at the broad end. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 247 th^ cause of nil the misfortunes that hefell king Louis and his array, especially in the defeat at Laodicea.' The king had sent forward tlio queen and her ladies, escorted by his choicest troopi>; under the guard of count Maurienne. He charged them to choose for their camp the arid but commanding ground which gave them a view over the defiles of the valley of Laodicea. Wliile this detachment was encamping, he, at the distance of five miles, brought up the rear and baggage, ever and anon turning to battle bravely vidth the skirmishing Arab cavalry, who were harassing his march. Queen Eleanora acted in direct opposition to his rational directions. She in- sisted on her detachment of the army halting in a lovely romantic valley, full of verdant grass and gushing fountains. The king was encumbered by the immense baggage which, WiUiam of Tyre declares, the female warriors of queen Eleanora persisted in retaining in the camp at all risks. Darkness began to fall as the king of France approached the entrance to the valley ; and, to his consternation, he found the heights above it unoccupied by the advanced body of his troops. Neither the queen nor her forces being encamped there, he was forced to enter the valley in search of her, and was soon after attacked from the heights by swarms of Arabs, who engaged him in the passes among the rocks, close to the fatal spot where the emperor Conrad and his heavy horse had been discomfited but a few weeks before. King Louis, sorely pressed in one part of this murderous engagement, only saved his life by climbing a tree, whence he defended himself with the most desperate valour.' At length, by efforts of personal heroism, he succeeded in placing himself between the detachment of his ladies and the Saracens. But it was not till the dawn of day that he dis- covered his advanced troops, encamped in the romantic valley chosen by his poetical que^n. Seven thousand of the flower of French chivalry paid with their lives the penalty of their queen^s inexperience in warlike tactics ; all the provision was cut oflpj the baggage containing the fine array of the lady- warriors, which had proved such an encumbrance to the king, n wni y, * William of Tyre and Sugor, as quoted in Qiffard's History of France. 2 William of Tyre. 'J ^:| li I i, ii; m '"'l '■' 1 , ' ^i. 248 ELEANOIU OF AQUITAINEi pi- «M was plundered by the Arabs and Saracens ; and the whole army was reduced to great distress. Fortunately Antioch was near, whose prince was the uncle of the crusading queen of Prance. Prince Raymond opened his friendly gates to the distressed warriors of the cross, and by the beautiful streams of the Orontes the defeated French army rested and refreshed them- selves after their recent disasters. .,. y'if»p !■• i > . Raymond of Poitou was brother to the queen's father, the saintly William of Poitou. There was, however, nothing of the saint in the disposition of Raymond, who was still young, and was the handsomest man of his time. The uncle and niece, who had never met before, were much charmed with each other. It seems strange, that the man who first awakened the jealousy of king Louis should stand in such very near relationship to his wife; yet it is certain, that as soon as queen Eleanora had recovered her beauty, somewhat sullied by the hardsliips she endured in the camp, she' com menced such a series of coquetries with her handsome uncle, that king Louis, greatly scandalized and incensed, hurried her out of Antioch one night, and decamped to Jerusalem, with slight leave-taking of Raymond, or none at all. It is true, many authorities say that Raymond's intrigues with his niece were whoUy political, and that he was persuading Eleanora to employ her power, as duchess of Aquitaine, for the extension of his dominions, and his own private advantage. It was at Antioch that Eleanora first declared " that she would not live as the wife of a man whom she had discovered was her cousin, too near by the ordinance of the church."* The Chronicle of Tours accuses her of receiving presents from Saladin, and this accusation was doubtless some recognition of her power as queen-regnant of the south of France. Eleanora, having taken the cross as an independent sovereign, of course was treated as such by the oriental powers.! ^iumdn q»t vjir.u\:< -t ; Eleanora was enraged at her sudden removal from Antioch, which took place early in the spring of 1149: she entered the holy city in a most indignant mood. Jerusalem, the object of the ardent enthusiasm of every other crusader, raised no rehgious ' GuiUaume de Nan^' Chronicle, quoted by Michelet. . ELEANOBA OF AQUITAINE. 249 learmy as near, France. [Stressed s of the d them- ;hcr, the ithing of 11 young, incle and tied with irho first in such i, that as somewhat she' com •me uncle, urried her ilem, with X is true, his niece lleanora to extension It was at [d not hve ler cousin, Chronicle ladin, and |her power •a, having lurse was Antioch, the holy of the rehgious Sect ardour in her breast ; she was burning with resentment at the uuacaistomed harshness king Louis exercised towards her. In Jerusalem, king Baldwin received Eleanora with the houours due both to her rank as queen of France, and her power as a govereign-ally of the crusading league ; but nothing could please her. It is not certain whether her uneasiness proceeded from a consciousness of guilt, or indignation at being the object of unfounded suspicions; but it is indisputable that, after her forced departure from Antioch, all affection between Eleanora and her husband was at an end. While the emperor of Ger- many and the king of France laid an unsuccessftil siege to Damascus, Eleanora was detained at Jerusalem, in something like personal restraint. The great abilities of Sultan Noureddin rendered this siege' unavailing, and Louis was glad to withdraw, with the wreck of his army, from Asia. There are letters' still extant from Suger, by which it appears that the king had written to him complaints of the criminal attachment of his queen to a young Saracen emir of great beauty, named Sal-Addin. For this misconduct the king of France expressed his intention of dis- gracing her, and putting her away as soon as he arrived in his dominions, but was dissuaded fit)m this resolution by the sug- gestions of his sagacious minister, who pointed out to him the troubles which would accrue to France by the relinquishment of the " great Provence dower," and that his daughter, the princess Marie, would be deprived, in all probability, of her mother's rich inheritance, if the queen were at liberty to marry again. This remonstrance so far prevailed on Louis, that he permitted his discontented sponsr to accompany him to Paris, November 1149. The royal pair made a solemn entry into the capital on their return from the crusade, with aa much triimiphant pomp as if they had gained great victo- ries during an absence of two years and four months, instead of having passed their time in a series of defeats and disasters. Suger then resigned his regency to the king, with much more pleasure, as he said, than he took it. He had governed ' In the collection of Du Chesne, which has fkimii^hcd much of the information in this narrative. I \ ! ' r 230 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINB. KJi-: France in n manner which obtained from the king and people the appellation of "father of his country."' The dread that Suger felt at the separation of Eleanora's southern provinces waa the reaHon why the king continued to live with her, and allowed her to retain the dignity of queen of France. Queen £leanora therefore resided at Paris, with all her usual state and dignity : she was, however, closely watched, and not permitted to visit her southern dominions, — a prohibition wliich greatly disauieted her. She made many complaints of the gloom of the northern GaUic capital, and the monkish manners of her devout husband. She was particularly indignant at the plain and unostentatious clothing of king Louis, who had hkewise displeased her by sacrificuig, at the suggestion of the clergy, all his long curls, besides shaving off his beard and moustaches. The giddy queen made a constant mockery of her husband's appearance, and vowed that his smooth face made him look more Uke a cloistered priest than a valiant king. Thus two years passed away in mutual discontent, till, in the year 1150, Geoffrey Plantagenet, count of Anjou,' appeared at the court of Louis VII. Geoffrey did homage for Normandy, and pre- sented to Louis his son, young Henry Plantagenet, sumamed Fitz-Empress. This youth was about seventeen, and was tlien first seen by queen Eleanora. But the scandalous chroniclers of the day declare the queen was much taken by the fine person and hterary attainments of Geoffrey, who was consi- dered the most accomplished knight of this time. Geoffrey was a married man ; but queen Eleanora as little regarded the marriage engagements of the persons on whom she bestowed her attention, as she did her own conjugal ties. About eighteen months after the departure of the Angevin princes, the queen of France gave birth to another princess, named Alice. Soon after this event, Henry Plantagenet once more visited Paris, to do homage for Normandy and Anjou, a pleuritic fever having suddenly carried off his father. Queen Eleanora now transferred her former partiality for the father to the son, who had become a noble, martial-looking prince, full of energy, learned, valiant, and enterprising, and ready to ' Vie de Sugcr. ' Vic de Oaufred, Due de Normand. ELEANOnA OP AQUITAINE. 251 i people !ad that povinccs ler, and icr usual and not on wliich lie gloom jrs of her the pltuu I likewise le clergy, justaches. husband's him look Thus two irear 1150, the court ir, and pre- , sumamed 1 was then chroniclers ly the fine was consi- Geoffrey jgardedtbe e bestowed undertake any conquest, whether of tlie heart of the gay quecu of the South, or of the kingdom from wliich he had been unjustly disinherited. Eleunora acted with her usual dis- gusting levity in the advances she made to this youth. Her beauty was still unimpaired, though her character was in low esteem with tlie world. Motives of interest induced Henry to feign a return to the passion of queen Eleanora: his mother's cause was hopeless in England, and Eletmora assured him that, if she could effect a divorce from Louis, her ships and treasures shoidd be at his command for the subjugation of king Stephen. v'*'" ' . • • ■ The intimacy between Henry and Eleanora soon awakened the displeasure of the king of France, consequently the prince departed for Anjou. Queea Eleanora inunediately made an apphcation for a divorce, under the plea that king Louis was her fourth cousin. It does not appear that he opposed this sepa- ration, though it certainly originated from the queen. Notwith- standing the advice of Suger, Louis seems to have accorded heartily with the proposition, and the divorce was finally pro- nounced by a council of the church at Baugenci,' March 18, 1152 ; where the marriage was not dissolved on account of the queen's adultery, as is conunonly asserted, but declared invalid because of consanguinity. Eleanora and Louis, with most of their relations, met at Baugenci, and were present when the divorce was pronounced.' Suger, who had so long opposed the separation of Eleanora from his king, died a few days before that event took place.' It is useless for modem historians either to blame or praise Louis VII. for his scrupulous honesty in restoring to Eleanora her patrimonial dominions; he restored nothing that he was able to keep, excepting her person. "When the divorce was first agitated, Louis VII. tried the experiment of seizing several of the strongholds in Guienne, but found the power of the South was too strong for him. GiflEard, who never wrote a line without the guide of contemporary chronicles, has made it folly apparent that the queen of the South was a stronger t 1 1 I t it i J I ■ t i '- 1 1 1 i 1 i 1 P 1 1 \ 1 i 1 ; 1 i 1 1 1 1 . i'. 1 ! I ! ! 1 ! f 1 • 1 1 ■ 1- 1' i- ! 1)1 j 1 ■ 1 ! ' ;; ill ' Sir Harris NicoW Chronology of History • Bouquet des Histoircs. " ' Vie de Suger. !■ 252 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. ;l.. potentate than the king of the North. If the lady of ' Oc' and ' No/ and the lord of * Oui ' and ' Non/ had tried for the mastery by force of arms, the civihzed, the warhke, and maritime Proven9als would certainly have raised the banner of St. George and the golden leopards far above the oriflamme of France, and rejoiced at having such fair cause of quarrel with their suzerain as the rescue of their princess. Moreover, Louis could not detain Eleanora, Avithout defying the decree of the pope. On her way southward to her own country,* Eleanora remained some time at Blois. The count of this province was Thibaut, elder brother to king Stephen, one of the handsomest and bravest men of his time. Much captivated with the splendour of " the great Provence dower," Thibaut offered his hand to his fair guest. He mut with a refusal, which by no means turned him from his purpose, as he resolved to detain the lady, a prisoner in his fortress, till she compUed with his proposal. Eleanora suspected his design, and departed by night, without the ceremony of leave-taking. She embarked on the Loire, and went down the stream to Tours, which was then belonging to the dominions of Anjou. Here her good luck, or dexterous management, brought her off clear from another mal-adventure. Young Geoffrey Plantagenet, the next brother to the man she intended to marry, had likewise a great incUnation to be sovereign of the South. He placed himself in ambush at a part of the Loire called ' the Port of Piles,* with the intention of seizing the duchess and her ti'ain, and carrying her off, and manying her. " But," says the chronicler, " Eleanora was pre- warned by her good angel, and she suddenly turned down a branch of tlie stream southwards, towards her own country." Thither Henry Plantagenet, the elder brother of Geoffrey, repaired, to claim the hand which had been promised him months before the divorce. The celerity with which the marriage of Eleanora followed her divorce astonished all Europe, for she gave her hand to Henry Plantagenet, duke of Normandy and count of Anjou, only six weeks after the divorce was pronomiced. 1 C!.„»„x T> V-M*.,,. 'Oc* r the and ler of unme uarrel cover, decree eanora ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 2:3 Eleanora is supposed to have been in her thirty-second year, and the bridegroom in his twentieth, — a dispai'ity somewhat ominous, in regard to their future matrimonial felicity. The duchess of Aquitaine and the duke of Normandy were married at Bourdeaux* on May-Jay, with all the pomp that the luxurious taste of Eleanora, aided by Proven9al wealth, could effect. If Henry and Eleanora could have been married a few months earlier, it would have been better for the repu- tation of the bride, since all chroniclers are very positive in fixing the birth of her eldest son, William,^ on the 17th of August, 1153, little more than four months after their union on the first of May. The birth of this boy accounts for the haste with which Eleanora was divorced. Had king Louis detained his unfaithful wife, a dispute might have aiisen respecting the succession to the crovm of France. Tliis child was bom in Normandy, whither Henry Cv>nveyed Eleanora directly after then' marriage, leaving the garrisons of Aquitaine commanded by Norman officers faithful to his interest ; a step which was the commencement of his unpopularity in his wife's dominions. Louis VII. was much displeased at the marriage of his divorced queen with Henry of Anjou. He viewed with uneasiness the union of the fair provinces of the South with Anjou and Normandy; and, in order to invalidate it, he actually forbade Henry to marry without his permission, claiming that authority as his feudal lord. His measures, we think, ought to acquit king Louis of the charge of too much righteousness in his political dealings, for which he is blamed by the super- ficial Voltaire. However, the hostiUty of Louis, who entered into a league with king Stephen, roused young Henry from the pleasures in which he was spending the first year of his nuptials; and breaking from his wedded Circe, he obtained, from her fondness, a fleet for the enforcement of his claims to liis rightful inheritance. Eleanora was sovereign of a wealthy ' Gervase. Bi-ompton. ' Toone's Chronological History gives this date : it is supported by Sandford and Spee^l from chronicles, and the assertion of Robert of Gloucester in the fol- lowing words,—" Hem-y was acqutunt with the quoeii of Fi^ice some deal too miwh, as me weened." I ■ i ',' ! t I ill" 5 '"^ Mtr 254 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. -Jj \h ■Ai.i maritime coimtiy, whose ships were equally used for war and comjmerce. Leaving his wife and son in Normandy, Henry embarked from Harfleur with thirty-six ships, May 1153. Without the aid of this Proven9aI fleet, England would never have reckoned the name of Flantagenet among her royal dynasties. . .■..,.> --^ ::>■ ..;,/! i in^-iui ;■_'!. ..^.i ., ,/. These circumstances are alluded to, with some dry humour, in the following lines by Robert of Gloucester : — "In eleven hundred years of grace and forty -one, , . ,. Died QeoflSy of PlMitagenet, the earl of Anjou. "^ ' Henry his son and heir, earl was made thorough ' All Anjou, and duke of Normand : — much it was his mind To come and win England, for he was next of kind, [kin] And to help his moder, who was oft in feeble chance. But he was much acquaint with the queen of France, Some deal too much, as me weened ; so that in some thing The queen loved him, as me trowed, more than her lord the king ; So that it was forth put that the king and she So sibbe were, that they must no longer together he. \ The kindred was proved so near, thaA king Louis there And Eleanor his queen by the pope depart sd were. Some were glad enow, as might be truly seen. For Henry the empres(>' sou ibrthwith espoused the queen. The qaeen riches enow had under her hand. Which helped Henry then to war on England, In the eleventh hundred year and fifty-two After Qod on earth came, this spousing was ado ; The next year after that, Henry his power nom, [took] ,t! ,u ^^ ^th six-and-thirty ships to England com." ' ' There is reason to beheve that at this period Henry seduced the heart and won the affections of the beautiful Rosamond CliflFord, under the promise of marriage, as the birth of her eldest son corresponds with Henry's visit to England at this lime ; for he left England the year before Stephen's death, 1153.* Henry was busy laying siege to the castle of one of his rebels in Normandy when the news of Stephen's death i-eached him. Six weeks elapsed before he sailed to take pos- session of his i^ingdom. His queen and infant son accom- panied him. They waited a month at Barfleur for a favour- able wind,' and after aU they had a dangerous passage, but landed safely at Osterham, December 8. The king and queen waited at the port for some days, while the fleet, dispersed by ' Hia proceedings in England have been detailed in the preceding biography. • Brompton. h\«iii ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 255. the wind, collected. They then went to Winchester/ where they received the homage of 'h outhem barons. Theobald archbishop of Canterbury, and z. me of the chief nobles, came to hasten their appearance in London, " where Henry was," say the Saxon chroniclers, " received with great honour and worship, and blessed to king the Sunday before Midwinter- day." Eleanora and Henry were crowned in Westminster- abbey, December 19, 1154, " after England," to use the words of Henry of Huntingdon, " had been without a king for six weeks." Henry's security, during this interval, was owing to the powerful fleet of his queen, which commanded the seas between Normandy and England, and kept all rebels in awe. The coronation of the king of England and the luxurious lady of the South was without parallel for magnificence. Here were seen in profusion mantles of silk and brocade, of a new fashion and splendid texture, brought by queen Eleanora^ from Constantinople. In the illuminated portraits of this queen she wears a wimple, or close coif, with a circlet of gems put over it ; her kirtle, or close gown, has tight sleeves, and fastens with full gathers just below the throat, confined with a rich collar of gems. Over tliis is worn the elegant pelisson, or outer robe, bordered with fur, with very full loose sleeves lined with ermine, showing gracefully the tight kirtle sleeves beneath. In some portraits the queen is seen with her hair braided, and closely wound round the head with jewelled bands. Over all was thrown a square of fine lawn or gauze, which supplied the place of a veil, and was worn precisely hke the faziola, still the national costume of the lower orders of Venice. Some- times this coverchief, or kerchief, was drawn over the features doAvn below the chin ; it thus supplied the place of veil and bonnet, when abroad; sometimes it descended but to the brow, just as the wearer was disposed to show or conceal her face. Frequently the coverchief was confined, by the bandeau, or circlet, being placed on the head, over it. Girls before marriage wore their hair in ringlets or tresses on their ■fill- ' Sir Harris Nicolas' Chronology of History. ' It is said she introduced the growth of silk in her soutlicm dominions, u kenefit attributed to Henry the Great. !t . ! 1 ,:( 256 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 8' « shoulders. The church was very eai'uest in preaching against the pubhc display of ladies* hair after marriage. The long hair of the men likewise drew down the constant fulminationg of the church j but after Henry I. had cut off his curls, and forbidden long hair at court, his courtiers adopted periwigs; indeed, if we may judge by the queer effigy on his coins, the handsome Stephen himself wore a wig. Be this as it may, the thunder of the pulpit was instantly levelled at ^vigs, Avhich were forbidden by a sumptuary law of king Henry. Henry II. made his appearance, at his coronation, with short hair, moustaches, and shaven chin ; he wore a doublet, and short Angevin cloak, which immediately gained for him from his subjects, Norman and Enghsh, the sobriquet of * Court-mantle.' His dalmatica was of the richest brocade, bordered with gold embroidery. At this coronation, eccle- siastics were first seen in England dressed in simiptuou^ robes of silk and velvet, worked with gold. This was in imitation of the luxury of the Greek chiu-ch : the splendour of the dresses seen by the queen at Constantinople, occasioned the introduc- tion of this corruption in the western church. Such Mas the costume of the court of Eleanora of Aquitaine, queen of England, in the year of her coronation, 1154. The Christmas festivities were celebrated that year with great pomp, at West- minster-palace ; but directly the coronation was over, the king conducted his queen to the palace of Bermondsey, where, after remaining some weeks in retirement, she gave birth to her second son, the last day of February, 1155. Bermondsey, the first place of Eleaiiora's residence in England, was, as delineated in its ancient plans, a pastoral village nearly opposite to London, of a character decidedly Flemish. Rich in well-cultivated gardens and wealthy velvet meads, it possessed, hkewise, an ancient Saxon palace,' mid a priory then newly built. Assuredly the metropolis must have presented itself to the view of its foreign queen, from the palace of Bermondsey, with mu«.'h more picturesque grandeur than it does at present, when its unwieldy size and smoky atmosphere prevent an entire conp d'oeil. But at one glance from the f W' Aniiais of the Abbey of Bur iViOuiLsC-y. against le long nations rls, and jriwigs ; tins, the it may, 3, wliich )n, with doublet, for him riquet of brocade, an, eccle- 0U9 robes imitation lie dresses ! introduc- jh was the queen of Christmas ), at West- ', the king fhere, after Dh to her M ELEANO?U OF AQUITAINE. 257 opposite bank of the river the eyes of the fair Provengal could then behold London, her royal city, situated on ground rising from the Thames. It was at that time girdled with an em- battled wall, which w^as studded with gateways, both oy water and land.* The new Tower of London kept guard on the eastern extremity of the city, and the lofty spire of the ancient cathedral presided over the western side, just behind the antique gateway of Ludgate. This gate led to the pleasant road of the river's Strand, ornamented with the old Temple, its fair gardens and wharf, and interspersed with a few inns,* or metropolitan dwellings of the nobility, the cultivated grounds of which sloped down to their water-stairs and boat-houses, the Thames being then the highway of London. The Strand road terminated in the majestic palace and abbey of West- minster, the old palace, with its yard and gardens, once belonging to St. Edward, and the new palace, its noble hall and water-stairs, which owed their origin to the Norman dynasty. Sucli was the metropolis when Henry II. succeeded to the Enghsh crown. If the example and conduct of the first Proven9al queen was neither edifying nor pleasing to her subjects, yet, in a commercial point of view, the cormexion of the merchants of England with her Aquitanian dominions was highly advan- tageous. The wine trade with Bourdeaux became considerable.' In a few months after the accession of Eleanora as queen- consort of England, large fortunes were made by the London traders, who imported the wines of Gascony from the port of Bourdeaux;'' and above all, (by the example of the maritime cities of Guienne,) the shipping of England was governed by the ancient code of laws, called the code of Oleron. In com- pliment to his consort Eleanora, Henry II. adopted for his plate-mark the cross of Aquitaine, with the addition of his ^ Dowgate and Billingsgnte. ' Inn was not, in early times, a word used tor a house of public entertain* raent. Its original signification was a temporary abode in London, used by abbot, bishop, or peer. ^ Anderson's History of Commerce. * " The land," says one of the malcontent Saxon chroniclers, " became full of drink and drunkards. Claret was 4d. per gallon at this time. Gascon wine in general sold at 20*. per tun, VOL. X. S 'IH f: ! I- li» 1 ' i •i. f ■.•■ ui^. r: ! i 111! I 1 M ! n ' . ,1 1. I . 'I (' 258 ELEANOKA OF AQXHTAINE. initial letter |^. An instance of this curious fact is still to be seen in the grace-cup of Thomas k-Becket.* The English chose to regard Henry II. solely as the descendant of their ancient Saxon line. " Thou art son "• said they, " to the most glorious empress Matilda, -whose mother was Matilda Atheling, daughter to Margaret, saint and queen, whose father was Edward, son to king Edmund Ironside, who was great-grandson to king Alfred." Such were the expressions of the Enghsh, when Hemy convened a great meetiag of the nobility and chief people at Wallingford in March 1155 ; where, by the advice of his mother, the empress Matilda, (who had learned wisdom from adversity,) he swore to confirm to the English the laws of Alfred and Edward the Confessor, as set forth in the great charter of Henry I. At tliis grand convocation queen Eleanora appeared with her eldest son, then in his fourth year, and the infant Henry. The baronage of England kissed the hands of the infants, and vowed to recognise them as the heirs of the Enghsh monarchy. A few weeks after this recognition the queen lost her eldest son, who was bmied at Reading, at the feet of his great-grandfather, Henry I. ' f The principal residences of the court were "Winchester- palace, Westminster-palace, and the country palace of Wood- stock. The amusements most favoui'ed by queen Eleanora were of a dramatic kind. Besides the Mysteries and Miiacles played by the parish-clerks and students of divinity, the classic taste of the accomphshed Eleanora patronised representations nearly aUied to the regular drama, since we find that Peter of Blois,' in his epistles, congratulates his brother William on * This cup formerly belonged to the Anmdel Collection, and was given by Bernard Edward, the late duke of Norfolk, to H. Howard, esq., of Corby-castle, who thus became the possessor of this highly -prized relic of Elcanora's era. The cross of Aquitaine somewhat resembles the Maltese cross ; the cup is of ivory mounted with silver, which is studded on the summit and base with pearls and precious stones. The inscription rouiid tlie cup is, viNrM TruM bibe cni GAUDio, — ' Drink thy wine with joy j' but round the lid, deeply engraved, is the restraining injunction, bobbii estote, with the initials T. B. interlaced with a mitre, the peculiarly low form of which stamps the antiquity of the whole. * Ailred Chronicle. ' Or Petrus Blesensis, who was bom, 1120, at the city of Blois, of a noble family. He was preceptor to William II. of Sicily, 1167; was invited to England by H' i still to as tlie t son,"- I, whose ret, saint Edmund " Such invened a illingford, tther, the idversity,) ilfred and charter of I appeared the infant ads of the lira of the ynition the ling, at the inchester- of "Wood- Eleanora d Miracles the classic escntations that Peter Wilham on ■was given ly )f Corliy -castle, >ra'scra. Tk up is of ivory itli pearls and UM BIBE crM ngraved, is the ;crlaced with a le whole. lois, of a noWe I to England by ELEANOKA OP AQUITAINE. 259 his tragedy of Flaura and Marcus, played before the queen. This William was an abbot, but was master of the revels or amusements at court : he composed all the Mysteries and Miracles performed before the queen at Westminster and Winchester. / > m; It is to Peter of Blois we owe a graphic description of king Henry's person and manners ; likewise the picture of his court setting out in progress. " When king Henry sets out of a morning, you see multitudes of people running up and down as if they were distracted; horses rushing against horses, carriages overturning carriages, players, gamesters, cooks, con- fectioners, morris-dancers, barbers, courtesans, and parasites, makmg so much noise, and, in a word, such an intolerable tumultuous jumble of horse and foot, that you imagine the great abyss hath opened, and that hell hath poured forth all its inhabitants." We think this disorderly crew must have belonged to the queen's court, for the sketch given us by the same most amusing author of king Henry himself, would lead U8 to suppose that he countenanced no such riotous doings. The chaplain Peter* thus minutely describes king Henry, the husband of Eleanora of Aquitaine, in his letter to the arch- bishop of Panormitan : — " In praising David the king, it is read that he was ruddy, but you must understand that my lord the king is sub-rufus, or pale-red ; his harness [armour] hath somewhat changed his colour. Of middle stature he is, so that among little men seemeth he not much, nor among long men seemeth he over Uttle. His head is round, as in token of great wit, and of special high counsel the treasury." Our readers would scarcely expect phrenological observations in an epistle of the twelfth century, but we faithfully write what we find therein : — " His head is of such quantity, that to the neck, and to all the body, it accordeth by even proportion. Henry II., and made his chaplain, and archdeacon of Bath j likewise private secretary to the king. He spent some ycai's at the court of England, and died about the end of the twelfth century. He wrote about one hundi'ed and thirty letters, in the most lively and individualizing style. These he collected and per- petuated, by making many copies, at the express desire of his royal master, Henry II. _ ' ' 'As edited by Heame. s2 t- ( t It' I I u r it 5 !• I !i , 1 ^4 if-'. m 260 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. His een pykeled [fine], and clear as to colour while he is of pleased will ; but through disturbance of heart, like sparkline fire or hghtning with hastiness. His head of curly hair, when clipped square in the forehead, sheweth a lyonous visage, the nostrils even and comely, according to all the other features. High vaulted feet, legs able to riding, broad bust, and long champion arms, which teUeth him to be strong, hght, and hardy. In a toe of his foot the nail groweth into the flesh and in harm to the foot over waxeth. His hands, through their large size, sheweth negligence, for he utterly leaveth the keeping of them ; never, but when he beareth hawks, weareth he gloves. Each day at mass and council, and other open needs of the realm, throughout the whole morning he standeth a foot, and yet when he eateth he never sitteth down. In one day he will, if need be, ride two or three journeys, and thus hath he oft circumvented the plots of his enemies. A huge lover of woods is he, so that when he ceaseth of war he haunteth places of hawking and hunting. He useth boots without folding caps, and homely and short clothes weareth he. His flesh would have charged him with fatness, but ^vith travel and fasting he adaimteth [keeps it down], and in riding and going travaileth he mightily his youth. Not as other kings heth he in his palace, but travelling about by his pro- vinces espieth he the doings of all men. He doometh those that he judges when they do wrong, and punisheth them by stronger judgment than other men. No man more wise in counsel, ne more dreadful in prosperity, ne steadfaster in adversity. When once he loveth, scarcely will he ever hate ; when once he hateth, scarcely ever receiveth he into grace. Oft holdeth he in hand swords, bows, and hunting-gear, ex- cepting he be at council or at book. When he may rest from worldly business, privily he occupieth himself about learning and reading, and among his clerks asketh he questions. For though your king' be well y-lettered [leamed]^ our king by far is more y-lettered. I, forsooth, in science of letters, know the cunning of them both, ye wotting well that my lord the king of Sicily a whole year was my disciple, and though by * Tlie king of Sicily. William the Good, afterwards Henry II.'s son-in-law. r ET' VNORA OF AQUITAINE. 201 you he had the beginning of teaching, yet by me he had the benefit of more full science.' And as soon as I went out of Sicily, your king cast away his books, and gave liimself up to palatine- idleness. But, forsooth, our lord the king of Er g- land has each day a school for right well lettered men ; hence his conversation, that he hath with them, is busy discussing of questions. None is more honest than our king in speaking ; ne in alms largess. Therefore, as Holy Writ saith, we may say of him, ' His name is a precious ointment, and the alms of him all the church shall take.'" Such is the picture of the first of our great Plantagenet monarchs, drawn in minute pencilling by the man who had known liim from his childhood. It is not a very easy task to reduce to any thing like perspicuity the various traditions which float through the chronicles regarding queen Eleanora's imfortunate rival, the celebrated Rosamond Clifford. No one who studies history ought to despise tradition, for we shall find that tradition is generally founded on fact, even when defective, or regardless of chronology. The learned and accurate Carte has not thought it beneath him to examine carefully the testimony that exists regarding Rosamond j and we find, from him, that we must confine her connexion with Henry to the two years succeeding his marriage. He has proved that the birth of her youngest son, and her profession as a nun at Godstow, took place within that space of time, and he has proved it from the irrefragable witness of existing charters, of endowments of lands given by the Clifford family to benefit the convent of Godstow, of pro- vision made by Henry II. for her son William Long-^spee and his brother, and of benefactions he bestowed on the nim- nery of Godstow because Rosamond had become a votaress therein. It appears that the acquaintance between Rosamond and Henry commenced in early youth, about the time of his knighthood by his uncle the king of Scotland ; that it was renewed at the time of his successful invasion of England, * By this passage it appears that Peter Bloia had been the tutor to Heiiry IT. and the khig of Sicily. ' Tlie idleness and luxuri ics of the pHiuce. ifiitfi^ 1 I i ill' I 1 , ! : M iWai 262 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. when he entered privately into marriage contract' with the unsuspecting girl; and before he left England, to retimi to his wife, his noble boy William, sumamed Long-espee, was born. His own words afterwards confirmed this report: " Thou art my legitimate son," said he to one of the sous of Bosamond, who met him at the head of an armed force at a time when the rebeUion of the princes had distressed him • "and," continued he, *'the rest are bastards."- Perhaps these words aflford the truest explanation of the mysterious dissensions which perpetually distracted the royal family. How king Henry excused his perjury, both to Rosamond and the queen, is not explained by chronicle ; he seems to have endeavoured, by futile expedients, to keep them both in ignorance of his perfidy. As Rosamond was retained by him as a prisoner, though not an unwilling one, it was easy to conceal from her the facts, that he had wedded a queen and brought her to England ; but his chief difficulty was to conceal Rosamond's existence from Eleanora, and yet to indulge him- self with frequent visits to the real object of his love. Brompton says, "That one day queen Eleanora saw the king walking in the pleasance of Woodstock, with the end of a ball of floss silk attached to his spur; coming near liim unperceived, she took up the ball, and the king walking on^ the silk unwound, and thus the queen traced him to a tliicket in the labyrinth or maze of the park, where he disappeared. She kept the matter secret, often revolving in her own mind in what company he could meet with balls of silk. Soon after, the king left Woodstock for a distant joimiey; then queen Eleanora, bearing her discovery in mind, searched the thicket in the park, and discovered a low door cunningly con- cealed ; this door she had forced, and found it was the entrance to a winding subten-anean path, which led out at a distance to a sylvan lodge in the most retired pai-t of the adjacent forest." Here the queen found, in a bower, a young lady of incomparable beauty, busily engaged in embroidery. Queen Eleanora then easily guessed how balls of silk attached them- selves to king Henry's spui-s. Whatever was the result of the 1 n„.f<. Bogwell's Afitinwitiftn. ' LincarJ. ' I I '■ ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. 2C3 interview between Eleanora and Rosamond, it is certain that the queen did not destroy her rival either by sword or poison, though in her rage it is possible that she might threaten both. That Rosamond was not kUled may be ascertained by the charters before named, which plainly show that she lived twenty years, in great penitence, after her retirement from the king. It is extremely probable that her interview with Eleanora led to her first knowledge that Henry was a married man, and consequently to her profession at Grodstow, which took place the second year of Henry's reign. The grand error in the statements regarding Rosamond is, the assertion that she was a young girl seduced and concealed by the king when he was in advanced life. Now the charters coUated by Carte prove that the acquaintance of Rosamond and Henry commenced in early youth, that they were nearly of the same age, and that their con- nexion terminated soon after queen Eleanora came to England. Twenty years afterwards, when Rosamond's death really occurred in her convent, it happened to coincide with Eleanora's imprisonment and disgrace. This coincidence revived the memory of the romantic incidents connected with Henry's love for Rosamond Clifford. The high rank of the real object of the queen's jealousy at that time, and the circumstances of horror regarding Henry's profligacy, as the seducer of the princess Alice, his son's wife, occasioned a mystery at court which no one dared to define. The common people, in their endeavours to guess this state secret, combined the death of the poor penitent at Godstow with Eleanora's imprisonment, and thus the report was raised that Eleanora had killed Rosa- mond. To these causes we trace the disarrangement of the chronology in the story of Rosamond, which has cast doubts on the truth of her adventures. In Brompton's narrative, we find the labyrinth* at Woodstock, and the clue of silk, famous ' A« to the labyrinth or maze at Woodstock, it most likely existed before the time of Rosamond, and remained after her death, since all plcasances or gardens in the middle age were contrived with tliis adjunct. Traces of them exist to this (lay, in the names of places near defiinct royal palaces ; witness ' Maze-hill' at Greenwich, (near the site of the maze or labyrinth of Greenwich-palace,) and 'the Maze' in Southwark, once part of the garden of the princess Mary Tudor*8 palace. We have evidence that Edward III. (between whom and the death of Rosamond little more than a century intervened^ familiarly called a Rtmcture I f I JiF I i i ]\ U ■ i ■ ■. i \ i i 1 1 1 m IP 264 k 'i 1 ^!^' "Jl f ^^iL ■a Hj Ff '^u H w> ^ H 1 v, H H i ' •* 1! H 1 1^ ^ 3 H ELEANOllA OF AQUITAINE. in the h/JP^ " »* ^ fiwH^d. His chroiioloj^ of the incident! if (iit^^'icledlj , but the iMu/il events arc continued by the moi^ <»^*ieui .iiitii ntics. , i ,»- i »,,. , .. / QiH^en Eleunoni Ijrouj^fit l»er hiisHHrM? a princess in the year J 156; this was the eldest daughter, (Ut' princess Matilda. Tht n*xt ,^Ar the queen ^pent in England. Ilei- celebrated sou, i^i'hard Cmxvc de Lion, was bom September 1157, at a palace cuiwixjui'^d oiie of the finest in i*** kingdom, called the Beau-Monte, xu Oxford. Thus, that renowned university chiims the honour of being the birth-place of this great warrior. This palace was afterwards turned into the White Friars' church, and then to a workhouse. The chamber in which Richard was bom still remains, a roofless ruin, with some vestiges of a fire- place ;' but such as it is, this fragment is deeply interesting to the English, as the birth-place of a hero of whom they are proud. Eleanora of Aquitaine, in some passages of her hfe, appears as one of the most' prominent characters of her age : she was very actively employed, either as sovereign of her own domi- nions or regent of Normandy, during the period from 1157 to 1172. Eleanora was crowned a second time at Worcester, with the king, in 1159. When the royal pair came to the oblation, they both took off their crowns, and, laying them on the altar, vowed never to wear them more. A son was bom to Henry and Eleaiiora, September 23rd, after the Worcester coronation : this prince bore the name of the. king's father, Geoffrey Plantagenet. The same year the king betrothed this boy to Constance, the heiress of Conan, duke of Bretagne. The infant Constance was about eig^hteen pertuning j Woodstock -palace, 'Rosamond's chamber,' the locality of whicli lie minutely deucribes in a letter preserved in the Foedera, vol. iv. p. 629. In this document he directs William de Montacutc "to order various repair- . '< tl". oM chroniclers, if we suppose Rosamond's residence was approached h •-' lu . 7*1 IT ^r the park wall. . , ' JBoBwell's Antjguitioi. ,. j, ,,.,ii/.^ ^t^^^ v-'--y<< ':•< ELEANORA OF AQUITATNE. SfllS months older than the httle prince (Ic Vrey. Henry hml mwle most unjust seizure of Kretjigne, by wny of coiuiuest; he, however, soothed the independent Urrtons, by Timrrjing their infant duchess to his son. His ambidous thirst for extension of empire, was not sated by tin acquiHitiiif of this dukedom ; he immediately laid siege to ThoiUouse, and, in the name of queen Eleanora, claimed that sovereij^iity of earl Raymond, who was in possession, and the ally of the king of France. A year was occupied with skirmishing and negotiation, during which ti x", j leanora acted as queen-regent in Enghmd. Henry sc.j» • ' h queen to Normandy in 11 CO; she went in great ite, iakmj; with her prince Henry and her eldest dauifr^tev, to lu at their father. The occasion of her presence bcir . , I quired was, the marriage of Marguerite, the daughter of iJtr former husband Louis YII. by his second wife, with her young son Henry. Chancellor Becket went with a mag- nificent retinue to Paris, and brought the little bride, aged three years, to the queen at Rouen. Both bride and bride- groom were given, after their marriage, to Becket' for education ; and this extraordinary person inspired in their young bosoms an attachment to him that ended but with their lives. Queen Eleanora kept her Christmas at Mans, with the king, in great state and splendour, the year of this betrothment. ' After a sharp dispute, between Henry II. and Louis VII., relative to the portion of the princess Marguerite, the king of France compromised the matter by giving the city of Gisors as a portion with another infant princess of France, named Alice, in 1162.' This child was in her third year when wedded to prince Richard, who was then seven years old. The little princess was unfort' mately consigned to the king of England for education. Two marriages were thus contracted bet the daughters of Louis VII. and the sons of his divorced queen, — comiexions wliich must seem most extraor- ' The secular education and support of tlio little princess waa consigned to Robert de Newburgh, one of Heury Il.'s barons, who engaged to guard her person, and bring up the princess Marguerite in a manner befitting her royal birth. ^ Louis had two daughters of that name,- one by Eleanora, and this child by his second queen, Alice of Cbani^iogne. \-' it 'I ,', 1< ]fi ybf. 266 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINB. m dinary, when we consider that the father of the brides and the mother of the bridegrooms had been married, and were the parents of children who were sisters to both. Louis VII. gave his eldest daughter by queen Eleanora in marriage to Henry the Large, count of Champagne. It was in this year that king Henry^s troubles began with Thomas k-Becket, who had hitherto been his favourite, his friend, and prime-minister. The contest between the king and Becket, which fills so many foho pages of modem history, must be briefly glanced at here. It was the same quarrel which had agitated England between Henry I. and Anselm; but England no longer pos- sessed a virtuous daughter of her royal race for a queen, who out of pity for the poor, deprived of their usual provision mediated between these haughty spirits. The gay, luxurious daughter of the South was occupied with her own pleasures, and heeded not the miseries which the king's sequestrations of benefices brought on the destitute part of the population. Becket appealed to the empress Matilda, the king's mother, who haughtily repulsed his suit. Becket was the son of a London citizen, who had followed Edgar Atheling on his cru- sading expedition, and was made prisoner in Syria; he obtained his Uberty tlu-ough the affection of a Syrian lady, an emir's daughter, who followed her lover after his departm'e, and succeeded in finding him in London, although she knew but two European words, 'London' and 'Gilbert,' — ^the place of abode and Christian name of her lover. The pagan maiden was baptized, by the favourite Noraian name of Matilda, and from this romantic union spiting Thomas k-Becket, who was remarkable for his learning and briUiant talents, and his fine statm*e and beauty. The love which Gilbert Becket bore to the race and blood of Alfred, which had sent him crusading with prince Edgar, rendered him the firm partisan of his niece, the empress Matilda. Young Becket had taken the only road to distinction opeu to an Anglo-Saxon : yet he was of the church, but not in it; for he was neither priest nor monk, being rather a church- lawyer than a clergyman. Henry II. had distinguished this Anglo-Saxon with peculiar favour, to the indignation of iiii i I ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. ^e and mother, who warned him against feeling friendship for an Anglo-Saxon serf with the loathing that the daughters of rajahs might feel for a pariah. The see of Canterbury having remained vacant a year and a half, Henry urged his favourite to accept it, in hopes that he would connive at his plans of diverting the revenues of the church to enrich those of the crown, for this was simply the whole cause of the perpetual contest between the Anglo-Norman kings and the archbishops of Canterbury since the Conquest; but as the church supported the destitute poor, it is not difficult to decide which had the moral right. Archdeacon Becket protested that if he were once a bishop, he must uphold the rights of the church; but the king stUl insisted on investing him with the archbishopric. The night before his consecration, at supper, he told the king that this archbishopric would place an eternal barrier between their friendship. Henry would not believe it. Becket was consecrated priest one day, and was invested as archbishop of Canterbury the next. To the annoyance of the king he instantly resigned his chancellorship, and became a firm champion for the rights of his see. For seven years the contest between Becket and Henry continued, during which time we have several events to note, and to conclude the history of the empress MatUda. She was left^ regent of Normandy by her son, which country she governed with great wisdom and kept in a peaceful state, but she never returned to England. ;> i ( i;.. i, , ; i; i :. ,:, ,;j In the year 1165 king Louis VII. gave the princess Alice (his youngest daughter by queen Eleanora) in maiTiage to the count of Blois, and at the same time endowed him with the office of high-seneschal of Prance, which was the feudal right of Hemy II., as count of Anjou. Henry violently resented this disposal of his office; and the empress liis mother, who foresaw the rising storm, and who had been thoroughly satiated mtli the horrors of war in her youth, wrote to pope Alexander, begging him to meet her, to mediate between the angiy kings. The pope obeyed the summons of the royal matron, and the kings met Matilda and the pontiff at Giijors. The differences • •■ .i ';..;. * Hoveden. Gerviisc. NowbeiTy. ■ ■ n\-^\: ■'i' \ i 4^': m 0: f i il!- All 1 iP i ^ ' ■ V t • r , t 1 •i Vi n 1>S1 268 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. between Beclcet and Henry II. had then risen to a fearful height. It appears that Matilda was charged by the pope with a commission of peace-making between Becket and his royal master. Emboldened by the mandate of the pope, Becket once more referred to the empress Matilda as the mediator between the church and her son, and no more met with repulse. We have seen the disgust Avith which Matilda recoiled from any communication with Becket, as the son of a Saxon villein ; nevertheless, this great man, by means of his eloquent epistles, was beginning to exercise the same dominion over the mind of the haughty empress that he did over every living creature with whom he communicated. Henry II. alarmed at his progress, sent to his mother a priest named John of Oxford, who was charged to inform her of mauy particulars derogatory to Becket's moral character, — events, probably, that happened during liis gay and magnificent^ career as chancellor and archdeacon. ■ :i)'iv . mi m The demise of the dulce of Bretagne had called Henry II. to take possession of that duchy, in the name of the infant duchess Constance and her betrothed lord, his son Geoffrey, when the news arrived of the death of the empress Matilda, which occurred September 10, 1167. The mother of Henry 11. was deeply regretted in Normandy, where she was called " the lady of the Enghsh." She governed Normandy with discretion and moderation, applying her revenues whoUy to the benefit of the common weal and many pul)lic works.* "While regent of Normandy, she apphed her private revenues to building the magnificent stone bridge, of thirteen arches, over the Seine, called le Grand Pont. The construction of this bridge Avas one of the wondera of the age, being built with curved piers, to humour the rapid cuiTcnt of the river. The empress built and endowed three monasteries ; among these was the magni- ficent structure of St. Oucn. She resided chiefly at the palace of Rouen, with occasional visits to the abbey of Bee. Matdda died the 10th of September, 1167. She was interred with royal honours, first, in the convent of Bonnes Nouvelles : her body was afterguards transfeiTcd to the abbey * Duciirel's Ncrmnndy. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 269 of Bee, before the altar of the Virgin. Her son left his critical affairs in Bretagne, to attend her funeral. He raised a stately marble tomb to her memory ; upon it was the following epitaph, whose climax tends rather to advance the glory of the surviving son than the defunct mother : — " Great bom, groat married, greater brought to bed, , I , . . W; i i . i < i v ,1 j, , ,. ; Hero Henry's daughter, wile, and mother's laid." * In this grave her body remained till the year 1282, when the abbey church of Bee being rebuilt, the workmen discovered it, wrapped up in an ox-hide. The coffin was taken up, and, with great solemnity, re-interred in the middle of the chancel, before the high altar. The ancient tomb was removed to the same place, and, with the attention the church of B/ome ever showed to the memory of a foundress, erected over the new grave. This structure falling to decay in the seventeenth cen' % its place was supplied by a fine monument of brass, with . pompous inscription.'^ The character of this celebrated ancestress of our royal Une was as much revered by the Normans as disliked by the Enghsh. Besides Henry II. she was the mother of two sons, Geoflfrey and William, who both preceded her to the grave. Queen Eleanora was resident, during these events, at the palace of Woodstock, where prince John was bom, in the year 1166. Henry completed the noble hall of the palace of Rouen,' begun by Henry I. and nearly finished by the empress Matilda. He sent for queen Eleanora from England, to bring her daughter the princess Matilda, that she might be married to her affianced lord, Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony. The nuptial feast was celebrated in the newly-finished hall of Rouen-palace, first opened for this stately banquet, 1167. Queen Eleanora was left regent of Normandy by her royal lord; but the people, discontented at the loss of the empress ' ' * " Ortu magna, viro major, sed maxima partu, .' Hie jftcet Henrici tilia, sponsa, parens." - Her remains were discovered and exlmmed, for the fourth time, January 1847, when the ruins of the Benedictine church of Bee (Hellouin) were demo- lished. Acoording to the Moniteur, a leiuien coffin, containing fragments of bones and silver laco, was found, with an inscription affirming that the chest coutiuned the illustrious bones of the empress Matilda, &e-. ,1 * Thierry. m ' i i i ,i'i amv 1 I' 'li m 270 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. Matilda^ rebelled against her authority ; which insurrection obhged Henry to come to the aid of his wife. Guienne and Poitou became in a state of revolt soon after.' The people, who earnestly desired Eleanora, their native princess, to govern them, would not be pacified till Henry brought his queen, and left her at Bourdeaux with her son Eichard. Hemy, the heir of England, was entitled the duke of Guienne ; but for Eleanora's favourite son, Richard, was intended the county of Poitou, subject to vassalage to his brother and father. This arrangement quieted the discon- tents of Aquitaine. The princess Marguerite, the young wife of prince Henry, was left in Guienne with her mother-in-law while Henry II. and his heir proceeded to England, then con- vulsed with the disputes between church and state carried on by Becket. Queen Eleanora and prince Richard remained at Bourdeaux, to the satisfaction of the people of the soutjh, who were delighted with the presence of their reigning familj^ although the Norman deputies of king Henry stiU continued to exercise all the real power of the government. The heart of Henry's son and heir still yearned to his old tutor, Becket, — an affection which the king beheld Mdth jealousy. In order to wean his son from this attachment, in which the young princess Marguerite fully shared, Hemy II. resolved, in imitation of the Capetian royal family, to have his son crowned king in his lifetime, and to associate him iu the government. " Be glad, my son,"' said Hemy II. to him, when he set the first dish on the table at the coronation- banquet in Westminster-hall ; " there is no prince in Europe has such a sewer^ at his table \" — " No great condescen- sion for the son of an earl to wait on the son of a lung," replied young Henry, aside to the earl of Leicester. The princess Marguerite was not crowned at the same time with her husband ;^ she remained in Aquitaine, with her mother- in-law, queen Eleanora. Her father, the king of France, was ' Tyrrell. • 3 Hoveden. ' This being one of the ftmctions of the grand seneschal of France, which Henry had to perform, as his feuda^ service at the coronation of a king of France, as count of Arjou. led to his performing the same office at his son's banquet. "• Peter of Bloia. ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. 271 enrafjed at this slight offered to his daughter, and flew to arms to avenge the affront. Yet it was no fault of king Henry, who had made every preparation for the coronation of the princess, even to ordering her royal robes to be in readiness ; but when Marguerite foimd that Becket, the guardian of her youth, was not to crown her, she perversely refused to share the coronation of her husband. The character of Henry II., dining the long strife that subsisted between him and his former friend, had changed from the calm heroism portrayed by Peter of Blois ; he had given way to fits of violence, agonizing to himself and dan- gerous to his health. It was said, that when any tidings came of the contradiction of his will by Becket, he would tear his hair, and roU on the ground vrith rage, grasping handsful of rushes in the paroxysms of his passion.^ It was soon after one of these frenzies of rage that, in 1170, he fell iU^ at Drom- front, in Maine : he then made his vnll, beheving his end approaching. To his son Henry he left England, Normandy, Maine, and Anjou ; to Richard he left the Aquitanian domi- nions; Geoffrey had Bretagne, in right of his wife; while John was left dependent on his brothers. From this order of affairs John obtained the nickname of Lacldand, first given him by Henry himself, in jest, after his recovery. During a fit of penitence, when he thought himself near death, Henry sought reconcihation with Becket. When, however, fresh contradictions arose between them, Henry, in one of those violent accessions of fury described above, unfortunately demanded, before the knights who attended in his bedchamber,'^ " Whether no man loved him enough to revenge thb aflronts he perpetually received from an insolent priest?" On this hint, Fitz-Urse, Tracy, Britton, and Mor- ville slaughtered Becket, before the altar in his cathedral, the last day of the year 1171. ' Hoveden. ' ^ Brompton. Gcrvase. Hoveden. ' Fitz-Steplien calls the foxir who murdered the archbishop, the barons or servants of the king's bedchamber. ,1 .PWi \]- I • ! r i Tifl •i i mi n :?< t- 276 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. had set sail to invade England^ had been entiiely demolished by a storm, pubhc eiithusijism for the saint knew no bounds. The king went to retmTi thanks to St. Thomas, at the shrine before which he had done penance, and the peace of the kinp. dom Mas wholly restored. Then was queen Eleanora con- signed to confinement, which lasted, with but short intervals for sixteen years. Her prison was no worse place than her o>vn royal palace at Winchester,' where she was well guarded by her husband's great justiciary and general, Ran\dph de Glan^ille, who likewise had the charge of the royal treasurv, at the same place. That Glanville treated her with respect is evident from some subsequent events. The poor penitent at Godstow expired in the midst of these troubles, — not cat off in her brilliant youth by queen Eleanora, but " from slow decay by pining." She was nearly forty, and was the mother of two sons, both of age. She died, practising the severest penances, in the high odour of sanctity, and may be considered the Magdalen of the middle ages. Tradition says she declared on her death-bed, that when a certain tree- • Benedict AbbnH, and many chronicles. Benedict WBa her prime-minister during her long regency in the 8uccee The world's most beauteous rose, — Rose passing sweet crewhile, Now iiuugut but odour vile." ' Coswell's AntiqiiiticK. V ^ iillilj I'M ii::' V'llti u ( i ! i i'l 1 m 1 iiAfi I ii \ I M. K III 278 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. m W' 'i 1 ■fJI iHi ■^r: ■HI Hi for a time, and his »pou«e Marguerite was rcHtorcd to lilm. King Louis liimself visited England in 1 1 79, for tlu; piiri)()se of praying for the health of his son Philip Augustus at the sluinc of St. Thomas it-Becket. Notwithstanding the singular relation, ship in whieh the kings of England and FVanet; stood to ejuli other, as the former and present husband of the same (piecn, tJK-v appear to have frequently met in friendly intereoiu'se. Heiin- reeeived Louis with much respect, and rode all night, August 18, with his train, to nieet Louis VII. at Dover, where the chroniclers relate that Henry made many curious observations on a total eclipse of the moon, which happened during his nocturnal journey, — a fact reminding us of his fondness for scientific (juestions, as recorded in his character by Peter of Blois. Henry II. afterwards took his royjil guest to his Win- chester-pjdace, where he showed him his trea8m*e-vault, and invited him to take any thing he chose. Queen Eleai^ora was then at Winchester, but whether she met her divorced lord, is not recorded. In the course of a few months Louis VII. died, of a cold csiught at his vigils near the tomb of St. Thomas K-Becket. Such was the end of the first husband of Eleanora of Aqnitaine. To enter into a minute detail of all the rebellions and insurrections undertaken by the insurgent sons of Eleanora, during their mother's imprisonment, were an endless, and indeed an impracticable task. It must suffice to hold up a picture of the manners and temper of the people over whom she was the hereditary sovereign, and who disdained the nde of any stranger, however nearly connected with the heiress of their country. All the elements of strife were kept in a perpetual state of activity, by the combativeness of the trou- badours, whose tensons, or war-songs, perpetually urged the sons of Eleanora to battle, when they were inclined to repose. Such, among many of inferior genius, was Bertrand de Bom, viscoimt de Hauteforte, whom Dante has introduced with sucli terrific grandeur iu his Inferno^ as the miscliief-maker between Henry II. and prince John. But he began this work wth Henry's eldest and best beloved son. Bertrand, and jJl the other troubadours, hated HeniT II.. whom they cousideied as ELEANORA OF AQlIITAINE. 279 an interloper, aiid a perHecut<»r of their rif^htful princess, the duclieuB of AcjuitHine, \m wile. It is 8ui(l that Hcrtmnd was in love with qucun KUumoni, for ho luldrcHijicM niuuy covert det'birtttioiis to a " royal Kleanora " in his ckaiisons, adding exultingly, that " they were not unknown to lier, for she can read!"^ But there is a niistuke of the mother for the (biu{?htcr, since prince Uichara, who wjia a brother troubadour, ciicuuraged Bertrand iu a passion for his l)cnutiful sister, Ijlwmora ]' and to the daughter of the (pujcn of Engliuid, not to iierself, these passionate declarations were addi'cssed. In the midst of insurrection against his sire, the mainspring uf which was the incessant struggle to obtain an independent sovereignty, young Henry Plaiitagenct died, at the castle of Martel, in Guiennc, iu his twenty-eighth year. Wheu he found his illuess mortal, he was seized with deep remorse for his frequent rebelhons against his ever-indidgent father. He sent to king Henry to implore his pardon for his transgres- sions. Before he expired, he had the satisfaction of receiving a ring from his sire, as a token of forgiveness. On the receipt of this pledge of affection, the penitence of the dying prince became passionate ; when expiring, he caused liimself to be taken out of bed, and died on sackcloth and ashes, as an atonement for his sins. The death of their heir, for a short time reconciled queen Eleanora and her royal husband. Henry mourned for the loss of this son with the deep grief of David over Absalom. The contemporary chroniclers agree, that from 1183 to 1184, M'hen the princess Matilda, with her husband Henry the Lion of Saxony, sought refuge iu England, the captive queen was restored to her rank at the English court.^ Prince Ricliard, now become the heir of Henry and Elea- nora, remained some time quiet, in order to see how his fatlier would conduct himself towards him. Although he had arrived at the age of twenty-seven, and the princess to whom * Count Tliicny. ' The royal family considered the lovo of the noble troubadour as a mere poetical passion, and the young princess was married very passively to Alphonso king of Ciuitile. It w;ts no trifle in the eyes of Ucrtrand, and the cause, doubtless, of the fierce restlessness with which he disturbed the royal family during the life of Henrv II, — SismondL N I'il ii!i- il 'iiit ;i ! ^1 ' -m I K 280 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. he was half married was twenty-three, she was still detained from him. Richard had formed at Guienne' an attachment to a virtuous and beautiful princess, the daughter of a neigh- bouring potantate, and he was anxious that his mysterious entanglement with the princess Ahce should be brought to a termination. Richard seems to have met with nought but injury from his father ; nor was his brother Geoffrey much better treated. The continual urgency of prince Richard, in regard to the princess Ahce, was met with constant evasion. Reports were renewed, of the king's intention to divorce queen Eleanora • »md the legate resident in England, cardinal Hugo, was con- sulted on the practicabihty of this divorce, and likewise on the possibility of obtaining a dispensation for the king's marriage with some person nearly aUied to him.^ The consequence was, that prince Richard flew to arms, and got possession of his mother's inheritance, while queen Eleanora was again committed to some restraint in Winchester-palace. Meantime, the lengthened imprisonment of queen Eleanora infuriated her subjects in Aquitaine. The troubadours roused the national spirit in favour of their native princess by such strains as these, which were the war-songs that animated the contest maintained by Richard in the name of his mother :— " Daughter of Aquitania,^ fair fruitful vine ! thou hast been torn from thy country, and led into a strange land. Thy harp is changed into the voice of mourning, and thy songs into sounds of lamentation. Brought up in dehcacy and abundance, thou enjoyedst a royal hberty, living in the bosom of wealth, dehghting thyself with the sports of thy women, with their songs, to the sound of the lute and tabor : and now thou mournest, thou weepest, thou consumest thyself with sorrow. Return, poor prisoner — ^return to thy cities, if thou canst : and if thou canst not, Aveep, and say * Alas ! how long is my exile ! ' Weep, weep, and say ' My tears are my bread, both day and night !' Where are thy guards, thy royal escort ? where thy maiden train, thy councillors of state? Some of ' Gervase. * Hovedcn. Dr. HeniTr. ' CLroiiic. RicariU Pictttviensis, ap. Script. Rer. Franc ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 281 them, dragged far from thy country, have suffered an igno- minious death ; others have been deprived of sight ; others banished and wandering in divers places. Thou criest, but no one hears thee ! — for the king of the North keeps thee shut up hke a town that is besieged. Cry, then, — cease not to cry ! Raise thy voice like a trumpet, that thy sons may hear it ; for the day is approaching when thy sons shall deliver thee, and then shalt thou see again thy native land !" These expressions of tenderness for the daughter of the old national chiefs of Aquitaine are followed by a cry of malediction against the towns which, either from force or necessity, still adhered to the king of the foreign race : — " Woe to the traitors which are in Aquitaine, for the day of their cliastisement is at hand ! La Rochelle dreads that day. She doubles her trenches, she girds herself all round with the sea, and the noise of her great works is heard beyond the mountains. Fly before Richard, duke of Aquitaine, ye who inhabit the coast ! for he shall overthrow the glorious of the land, — ^he shall annihilate, from the greatest to the least, all who deny him entrance into Saintonge !" The manner of Klaanora's imprisonment was as mysterious to her conteinporaries and subjects as it is to her modem historians, if we may take literally the query propounded in one of her troubadour war-songs.^ " TeU me, double eagle, tell me where wast thou when thine eaglets, flying from their paternal nest, dared to put forth their claws against the king of the North ?" ,>>.!. if; , :- 'v.cm.-, - For nearly two years, the Angevin subjects of Henry II. and the Aquitanian subjects of his captive queen gave battle to each other ; and, from Rochelle to Bayonne, the dominions of queen Eleanora were in a state of insurrection. The con- temporary chroniclers, who beheld this contest of husband against wife, and sons against father, instead of looking upon it as the natural consequence of a divided rule in an extended empire, swayed by persons of great talents who had received a corrupt education, considered it as the influence of an evil * Tenson quoted by M. Michelct, in his History of France. Eleanora is desig- nated in the prophecies of Merlin as the double eagle, on aoooimt of the double Bovereignty she had possessed, as queen of France and then of England. ^'' t H i:h';!' : \ tit ■- ii'i ?i 1! ■ ■? 8 1.; • 1 \-\-. I 1- (, ii 1 ( ■ I . ^ ' _■ t r *!1*IP;!' \'l< 282 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. ^ m destiny presiding over the race of Plantagenet, and as the punishment of some great crime. Many sinister stories, relating to the royal family, were current. Queen Eleanora, when pursuing, in her eai-ly days, her guilty career as queen of France,' it was whispered, had been too intimate with Geoffrey Plantagenet, her husband's father. Then the story of Foulke the Red,^ the first that took the name of Plantagenet, was revived, and the murder of his brother discussed. Likewise, the wonderful tale was remem- bered of the witch-countess of Anjou, Henry II.'s gieat- grandmother, wife to Foulke le Rechin, whose cognomen means Hhe quarreller.' This count, having observed that his wife seldom went to church, (and when she did, quitted it always at the elevation of the Host,) thought proper not only to force her to mass, but made foui* of his esquires hold her forcibly by the mantle when she was there ; when, lo { at the moment of consecration, the coimtess, untying the mantle by which she was held, left it in the hands of the esquires, and flying through the window of the chapel, was never heard of more. A great thunder-storm happened at the moment of her departure ; a dreadful smell of brimstone remained, wliich " no singing of the monks could allay." The truth of this marvellous tale probably is, that the countess was killed by lightning, in a church injured by a thunder-storm. Her ungracious descendant, Richard Coeur de Lion, used to tell this tale with great glee to his knights at Poitou ; and added, " Is it to be wondered that, having spiimg from such a stock, we hve on bad terms with each other? From Satan we sprang, and to Satan we must go." Geotfrey held out Limoges, in his mothei^s name, with gi"eat pertinacity. Among other envoys came a Norman clerk, holdmg a cross in liis hand, and supphcated Geoifrey not to imitate the crime of Absalom. " What !" said GeoflFrey, "wouldst thou have me deprive myself of mine inheritance ? It is the fate of om* family that none shall love the rest. Hatred is our rightful heritage," added he, bitterly, '• and none will ever succeed in depriving us of it." Dming ' Brompton. * Script. Rer. Franc. m hve oftl ELEANORA OF AQUIT VINE. 283 a conference which prince GeofiPrey soon after had with his father, in the market-place at Limoges, for the purpose of discussing peace, the Aquitanian soldiers and supporters of Geoffrey, faU of rage at the sight of the monarch who kept their duchess imprisoned, broke the truce, by aimmg from the castle a shower of cross-bow shafts at the person of the king, one of which came so close as to shoot his horse through the ear. The king presented the arrow to Geoffrey, saying, with tears, " Tell me, Geoffrey, what has thy unhappy father done to thee, to deserve that thou, his son, shouldst make him a mark for thine archers?'' Geoffrey was greatly shocked at this accident, of which he declared he was wholly innocent. It was the outbreak of popular fiuy in his mother's subjects. When prince Richard and prince Geoffrey were not com- bating with their father's subjects, they employed themselves in making war on each other. Just before the death of Geoffrey, his brother Richard invaded his dominions in Bretagne with fire and sword, on some unaccountable affront, blown into a blaze by the sirventes of the troubadours. After this faction was pacified, Geoffrey went to assist at a grand tournament at Paris, where he was flung from his steed in the midst of the mSlee, and was trodden to death beneath the feet of the coursers. He was buried at N6tre Dame. This was the second son queen Eleanora had lost since her imprison- ment, in the very flower of his youth and strength. Like liis brother Henry, this prince was remarkable for his manly beautj', and the agile grace of his martial figure. His death afflicted liis mother equally with that of her first-bom ; for Ge'^ffiey had been brought up a Proven9al, and had shown far more resentment for his mother's imprisonment than the young king Henry. That Eleanora loved both with all a mother's passionate tenderness, we have the evidence of her own most eloquent words. In one of her letters to the pope, preserved in the collection of Peter of Blois, she says, — "The younger king and the count of Bretagne both sleep in dust, while their most wretched mother is compelled to live on, though tortured by the irremediable recollections of the dead." i Min: rih I- 1 . ii i *,■: f' i > M I I:! 284 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. i V im The misfortunes of prince Arthur, dulce of Bretagne, thus began before his birth, and were strengthened by his baptism, on the 29th March, 1187. The duchess Constance brought him into the world a few months after the death of his father. Eleanora, the eldest child of Constance, had been proclaimed heiress of Bretagne, but was disinherited by the birth of her brother. " It was the pleasure of king Henry and queen Eleanora that the infant should be named Henry ; but the Bretons chose to indulge their natural prejudices in favour of king Arthur whom they claim as their countryman ; and as they looked for- ward to the boy as the possible heir of England, they insisted on giving the last descendant of the Armorican princes that favourite name. Tliis was the first pubHc displeasure given by Constance to the parents of her husband : their enmity increased with years." — " Great scandal arose after the death of GeofiFrey, regarding the duchess Constance and her Ijrother- in-law John : till liis marriage with Isabella of Angoul^me, he was constantly * haunting her ;' and on this account, it is sup. posed, Henry II., after the birth of her posthumous son Arthur, forced the duchess to marry the earl of Chester, as prince John's attentions to his sister-in-law caused considerable comment."' Prince Richard haAing obtained possession of the whole of Aquitaine, his father commanded him to surrender it to liis mother, queen Eleanora, whom he had brought as fai- as Normandy to claim her right.^ The moment the prince received this mandate he gave up the territory, and hastened to Normandy to welcome the queen, and congratulate her on her restoration to freedom. Tliis release is recorded by the friend of the queen, abbot Benedict. From him we learn that, during the year 1186, Eleanora exercised sovereign power at Bourdeaux, and then resigned it to her son Richard, who in the mean time hacl made his peace with his father. Heniy II. was with his queen during this period ; for Benedict declares that, the following April, they sailed from Barfleur to England. Eleanora was again put under some restraint at Winchester- palace, which she quitted no more tiU the death of king Henry, three years afterwards. _,, , , , , < ' Ci.rt€. ' Benedict AbLae. ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. 285 Tlie commission of moral wrong had involved Henry, great and powerful as he was, in a net, within whose inextricable folds he either vainly struggled, or awaited the possibihty of deliverance by the death of the queen. If Eleanora had preceded him to the grave, as in the common course of nature might have been expected, he would have sued instantly for a dispensation to marry the affianced bride of his son. While the queen lived, this could not be done without an explosion of scandal which would have dishonoured him in the eyes of all Europe. Henry had only tAVO alternatives ; either to permit his heir to marry the princess Alice, or to shorten the lile of the queen Eleanora by violent means. Although his principles were not sufficiently firm to resist temptations to vice, yet he was not abandoned enough to commit deliberately either atrocity. So time wore uneasily on, till prince Richard attained the age of thirty-four, and Alice that of thirty ; while the king stiU invented futile excuses to keep both in this mi- serable state of entanglement, wherein Richard could neither free himself from Alice, nor give his hand to any other bride. Yet Eichard, to further his own ends, made the brother of Alice beheve that he was willing to complete his engagement. " It was the wish of Henry II. to crown his son John king of England during his lifetime, and to give Richard ail his dominions that lay beyond the English sea. Richard was not content; he came to the king of France, and cried for aid, saying, ' Sire, for God's sake suffer me not to be disinherited thus by my sire. I am engaged to your sister AUce, who ought by right to be my wife. Help me to maintain my rights and hers.' "^ The king of France, after vainly seeking for explanation of the reason why his sister was not married to her betrothed, made, with prince Richard, an appeal to arms. King Philip contrived to induce prince John to join in the rebellion. When Henry heard that this idolized child of his old age had followed the insurgent example of his brethren, he threw himself into a paroxysm of rage, and invoked the bitterest curses on his head, and that of pnnce Richard: he cursed the day of his own birth; and, after * Bernard le Tr^rier, — Giiizot's Chron. n ii r\ •i i il I i: n 286 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. giving orders to his pjiinter at Windsor to paint a device of a young eaglet pecking out the eyes of an eagle, as a reproach to prince John, he set out for the continent, in an agonized state of mind. ' '" ' ' "' ' ' " - ' • i After waging, for the iirst time in his life, an unsuccessful war, king Henry agreed to meet his son Richwd and the kinp of France at Vezalai. As the king was on his progress to this congress, he fell ill at Chinon, after indidging in one of his fits of violent passion.' Finding that his life was departing, he caused himself to be carried before the high altar of the cathedral, where he expired in the supporting arms of Geotfrev the youngest son of Rosamond, who was the only one of his children from whom he received filial attention in his last moments. Before he died, he spoke earnestly to him, and gave him a ring of great value ; then laying his head on tlie bosom of Geoifrey,'' his spirit departed, leaving his featiu-cs still convulsed with the agony of rage which had hastened hi.^ end. When the news was brought to Richard, that the crown of England had devolved upon him by the sudden death of hir, father, he was torn \nih remorse and regret. He went to meet the royal coi-pse at Fontevraud, the place of intenneiit pointed out by the will of the deceased monarch. King Henry, when he was carried forth to be buried, was first apparelled in his princely robes, having his crown on his head, gloves on his hands, and shoes on his feet, wrought Avitli ^o\A ; spurs on his heels, a ring of gold on his finger, a sceptre in his hand, his sword by his side, and his face unco^ ered. But this regalia was of a strange nature, for the corpse of Henrj', like that of the Conqueror, had been stripped and plundered; and when those who were charged with the funeral demanded the ornaments in which Heniy was to lie in state, the trea- surer, as a favour, sent a ring of Httle value, and an old sceptre. As for the crown Avith which the warUke brow of Henry was encircled, it was but the gold fringe from a lady's petticoat, torn off for the occasion ; and in this odd attire, the greatest monarch in the world went doAvn to his liMit abode.'^ * Which Brompton declares was the immediati^' cause of death. • Lord Lyttelton. ' J. P. Andrews. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 287 Thus he was conveyed to the abbey of Fontevraud, where he lay with his face uncovered, showing, by the contraction of liis features, the violent rage in which he depai'ted. When Richard entered the abbey he shuddered, and prayed some moments before the altar, when tlie nose and mouth of his father began to bleed so profusely, that the monk in attend- ance kept incessantly wiping the blood from his face. Richard testified the most poignant remorse at this sight. He wept bitterly ; and, prostrating himself, prayed earnestly, under the mingled stimulus of grief and superstition, and then rising, he departed, and looked on the face of his sire no more.' Henry II. died July 6th, 1189. The first step taken by Richard T. on his accession to the English crown was, to order liis mother's release from her constrained retirement at Winchester-palace. From a captive, queen Eleanora in one moment became a sovereign ; for the reins of the Enghsh government were placed in her hands at the time of her release. She made a noble use of her authority, according to a manuscript cited by Tyrrell : — " Queen Eleanora, directly she was liber ted from her re- straint at Winchester, was invested with full powers as regent, which she most beneficially exercised, going in person from city to city, setting free all those confined under the Norman game-laws, which in the latter part of Henry's life were cruelly enforced. When she released prisoners, it was on condition that they prayed for the soul of her late husband. She likewise declared she took this measure for the benefit of his soul." Her son had given her full power, but, to her great honour, Eleanora did not use it against those who had been her gaolers or enemies. Her regency was entirely wpent in acts of mercy and wisdom, and her discriminating acumen in the prisoners she Hberated may be judged by the following list : — She Uberated fuUy, — " ail confined for breach of forest laws, who were accused of no further crime. All who were outlawed for tlie same, she invited back to their homes and families. All who had been seized by the king's arbitrary commands, * Count Thierry, from Norman chroiuclcs. i' I I ! L 1 1 ■ ? n p * .1 '■ WW ' \ • r i ■ > ^ If. i* '>l p 4 ^ i> 288 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. and were not accused by their hundred or county, slie set free. But all malefactors accused on good and lawful evidence were to be kept in prison, without bail/' When we consider Eleanora going frcra city to city, examining thus into the wrongs of a government that had become aibitrary, imd seeing justice done to the lowest, >ve are apt to think that her imprisonment had improved her disposition. The queen-regent next ordained that "every freeman of the whole kingdom should swear that he Mould bear faith to his lord, Richard, son of king Henry and queen Eleanora, for the preservation of life, hmbs, and terrene honom*, as liis hege lord, against all Uving; and that he would be obedient to his laws, and assist him in the pre- servation of peace and justice." ' Eleanora showed so little distaste to the Winchester-palace, that she returned thither, after her justiciary progress, to await the arrival of her son from the coast of Norman<^ly. It appears that king Richard, when he gave commands for his mother's release, ordered her castellan, the keeper of the treasure-vault at Winchester, Ranulph de Glanville, to be thrown into a dungeon in Winchester-castle, and loaded with fetters Aveighing a thousand pounds.'^ Our ancient clu'oniclers, when labouring to reconcile the prophecies of Merlin with the events of Enghsh liistory, while hunting after the impossible, very often start some particulars which would otherwise have slept shrouded in the dust of the gi'ave. Thus, speaking of the liberation of Eleanora of Aquitaine by her son, Richard I., Matthew Paris says she is designated, by Merlin's sentence, Aquila rttpii foedms tertid nidificatione gaudebit ; Hhe destructive eagle shall rejoice in her third nestUng ' — " Eleanora," pursues Matthew, " is the eagle, for she spieads her wings over two nations, England and Aquitaine ; also, by reason of her excessive beauty , she destioyed or injiu-ed nations. She was separated from the king of France by rejison of consanguinity, and from the kuig ' Tliis 18 tlie first oath of allegiimce ever taken in England to an rncrownicd king. ^ Tyrrell, to whose most learned and indefatigable rewsarch the elucidation of many dark piiHsageH of Eleanura's life is owing. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINB. 289 of England by divorce upon sttspicion, and kept in close con- iiiiement. She rejoiced in her third nestling, since Richard, her third son, honoured her with all reverence after releasing her from prison." If Matthew would imply that Henrj' con- fined Eleanora for impropriety of conduct. ^ s is not supported by other authors. King Richard I. landed at Portsmouth, August the 12th, 1189. Three days after, he arrived at his mother's court at Winchester, where his first care was directed to his father's treasure. After ne had conferred with his mother, he ordered before him Ranulph de Glanville, who gave him so good an account of the secrets of the Winchester treasure-vault, that he set him at hberty, and ever after treated him with con- fidence. Either Ranulph de Glanville had behaved to the queen, when his prisoner, with all possible respect, or Eleanora was of a very magnanimous disposition, and forbore prejudicing her son against her late castellan. Glanville gave up to the king the enormous simi of nine hundred thousand poimds, besides valuable jewels. At his first seizure, only 100,000 marks were foimd in the treasure-vault, which, it seems, pos- sessed some intricacies only known to Glanville.' The king's next care was to settle the revenue of the mother he so pas- sionately loved, and whose wrongs he had so fiercely resented. Her dower was rendered equal to those of the queens Matilda Atheling and Matdda of Boulogne. Richard returned to England with the full intention of immediately joining the crusade, now warmly preached throughout Christendom. In furtherance of this cherished purpose, preparations were instantly made for his early coro- nation, which took place on the 3rd of September, 1189, three ' Hoveden. Brompton. Tyrrell. Paris. The singular employment of war- like baroDfl as justiciaries, and the combination of the offices of general and of lawyer in one man, are strange features in the Norman and Angevin domination in England, l^is Ranulph de Qlanville is an instance ; he was Henry's great general, who defeated and took prisoner William the Lion of Scotland ; but he is only known to our gentlemen of the bar as the author of " Glanville's Insti* tutes," — thia steel-clad baron being the first who reduced the laws of England to a written code. To make tlio contrast with modem times still stronger, the gi'eat legalist died crusading, having, either to please CcDiur de Lion, or to atone for his Bins both as lawyer and general, taken up the cross, for the purpose of battling " Mahoun uud Termagaunt." VOL. I. V ■(\i I ! y. . I f : I :|! yf'' J 290 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. weeks only after he reached tlie shores of his future kingdom. As the etiquette of the queen-mother's recent widowhood prevented her from sharing in tliis splendid festival, all women were forbidden to be present at its celebration. The chroiii. clers declare that Richard issued a proclamation the day before, debarring all women' and Jews from entering the pre. ciiicts of Westmiiister-abbey at the time of his inaugm*ation, — a classification of persons greatly impugning the gallantry of the hon-hearted king, when we remember the odium attaclicd to the name of a Jew. The Provenyal alliance had produced a prodigious influx of tliis usurious race into England. As they enjoyed high privileges in the hereditary dominions of queen Eleanora, they supposed they were secure mider her son's government. BcUeving money would buy a place eveiT. where, they flocked to the abbey, bearing a rich present ; but the populace set upon them and slaughtered them, beiug excited to a rehgious mania by the preacliing of the Crusade. The massacre of these unfortunate money-brokers was not perpetrated with the connivance of either king Richard or the queen-mother, since Brompton expressly declares that the ringleaders were, by the king's orders, tried and put to death. Alice, the long-betrothed bride of Richard, was neither mar- ried nor crowned. On the contrary, she was committed to the same species of restraint, by the orders of the queen, in which slie herself had been so long held captive. The princess Alice had been twenty-two yeai's without leaving England; and as she was the only person on whom Eleanora retaliated any part of her wrongs, the inference must be drawn that she considered Alice as the cause of them. Eleanora departed for Aquitaine as soon as her sou had settled her Enghsh dov/er, and Richard embarked at Dover, for Calais, to join the crusade, taking with him but ten sliips from the Enghsh ports. His troops were disembarked, and he marched across France to his mother's dominions, where he formally resigned to her the power he had exercised, during his father's lifetime, as her deputy. Richard appointed the ^ Iluvedeu. character. Bromptou. M. Paris. The hmt says, all women of hoA ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. 291 ingdom, lowbood I women ! cliroiii- the day the pic- ratiou, — llantry of attached produced and. As linious of Luider her ace eveiy- jseut; hut lem, heiug le crusade. ) was not lard or the ; that the it to death. ;ither mar- mitted to queen, in e princess England ; retahated ^vu that she er sou had at Dover, it ten sliips jarked, and lions, where ksed, during [pointed the vomeu of had rendezvous of the crusade at Messina, and directing his mother to meet him there, he set sail from Marseilles for Sicily ; while Eleanora undertook a journey to Navarre, to claim for him the hand of Berengaria, the daughter of king Sancho. Richard had much to effect at Messina, before he com- menced the crusade. Before he struck a blow for Christendom, he was obUged to right the wrongs of his sister Joanna, queen of Sicily, the youngest daughter of Eleanora and Henry II. WdUam the Good, through the recommendations of Peter of Blois, (who had formerly been his tutor,) became the hus- band of Joanna Plantagenet. The Sicilian ambassador granted Joanna an immense dower ; but when the aged bride- groom found that his young queen was stiU more beautiful and sweet-tempered than her father's chaplain Peter had set forth, he greatly augmented her jointure. The king of Sicily died childless, leaving his young mdow immense riches in his will. King Tancred robbed her of these, and of her dower ; and, to prevent her complaints, enclosed her in prison at Messina. It was this outrage Richard hastened there to redress. But the hs!: of goods the fair widow directed her brother to claim of Tancred, could surely have only existed in a catalogue of Aladdin's household ftimiture : — an arm chair of soUd gold ;' footstools of gold ; a table twelve feet long, with trestles of gold ; besides urns and vases of the same precious metal. These reasonable demands were enforced by the arm of the mighty Richard, who was as obstinate and wilful as AchiUes himself. Tancred deserves pity, when we consider the extraordinary nature of the bequests of his predecessor. However, he com- pounded for dower and legacy, at last, with the enormous pay- ment of 40,000 ounces of gold. This treasure, with the royal wdow herself, were consigned to Richard forthwith. Thus was a companion provided for Richard's expected bride, the elegant and refined Berengaria, who, under the conduct of Eleanora of Aquitaine, was daily expected. Richard was so well pleased with the restoration of his sister and her treasures, that he asked ^ Hoveden and Vinisauf ; likewise Kers of Langtoft, who mentions many other curious articles. ' k '' i ! \rf Tl 202 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINB. Tancred's daughter in marriage for lus tbeu acknowledged heir, Arthur of Bretagne.' During this negotiation Eleunora arrived in Messina,' bringing with her the long-beloved Berengaria. Although years had elapsed since Eleanora had seen her daughter Joanna, slie tarried but four days in her company, and then sailed for Home. There is reason to suppose that her errand was to settle a dispute which had arisen between king Richard and his half-brother Geofirey, the son of Rosamond, whom the king had appointed archbishop of York, according to his father's dying request, but had required an enormous sum from the revenues of the archbishopric' Queen Eleauora returned to England,* with her friend the archbishop of Rouen ; he was soon after appointed its governor, in place of Long. champ, who had convulsed the coimtry by his follies. We have seen Eleanora taken from captivity by her son Richard, and invested with the high authority of queen-t-egent; there is no reason to suppose that that authority was revoked ; for, in every emergency during the king's absence, she appears as the guiddng power. For this purpose she absented herself from Aquitaine, whose government she placed in the Lands of a deputy, her grandson Otho of Saxony ;* and at the end of the reign of Coeur de Lion, we find her, according to the words of Matthew Paris, "governing England with great wisdom and popularity.'* Queen Eleanora, when thus ardu- ously engaged in watching over the interests of her best- beloved son, was approaching her seventieth year,- -an age when rest is imperiously demanded by the human frame. But years of toil still remained before her, ere death closed her weary pilgrimage in 1204 ; and these years were laden ^v^th sorrows, which drew from lier that pathetic idteration of the regal style, preserved in one of her letters to the pope on occasion of the captivity of Cu?ur de Lion, where she declares herself — " Eleanora," by the wrath of God queen of England." ' The doCTuncntj? pertaining to thw contract prmo that Arthur waa then con- eidered by liis unde as the hi-ir of England. — Foedi ra, vol. i. ' See the suci-ecding biography. * Kapin, vol. i, 248. * Speed, 518. * TyrrcIL « Peter of Blois* Episties. M. ., » ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 298 M ■■ -;fv'r:. ;h years ina, slie tiled for L was to lard and tiom the j; to his ouB sum Eleanora f Bouen ; of Long. • y her son m-i'egent: 1 revoked ; he appears ited herseK [e hands of ;he end of Ing to the ith great 18 ardu- her hest- -an age lan frame. . closed her J laden with Ltion of the Le pope on khe declares waa then con- Speed, 518. Not only in this instance, but in several others, traits of the subdued spirit of Eleanora are to be discovered ; for tho ex- treme mobility of her spirits diffused itself even over the cold records of state. When swayed by calmer feelings, she styles herself " iElienorn, by the grace of God, humbly queen of England."' Eleanora of Aquitainc is among tho very few women who have atoned for an ill-spent youth by a wise and benevolent old age. As a sovereign, she ranks among the greatest of female rulers/ / ' " .,,,..■■'■•' ' ' ■ • Rymor, voL i. ' To prevent repetition, the rest of her life is comprebouded in tho memoirs of her daughters-in-law, Berengaria and Isabella. .1 "\ 1 . I p'l!. I 1' 1 I ill rW V -■•'- '^: \> ••-'.. ■;- -• ' ■'■'.■••-■ ■ i ■ '• "' • f ,,iS> •>' '•.« '( = i ; ■•:^-.:««;'>U^ ^1 :'.,i ••■'■! / r '..- .' fl ■ BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE, QUEEN-CONSOBT OF BICHABD I. m \ Mutiial attachment of Berengaria and Bicliard — ^Bcrengaria's descent — Berer.. garia demanded in marriage — Travels with queen Eleuiora — Waits with her at Brindisi — Is consigned to queen Joanna — Queen Eleanora's regency— Redeems, as her queen-gold, the cup of the monks of Bury — Embarks for Palestine — Berengaria lands in a storm at Cyprus — Nuptials at Cyprus- Costume of queen Berengaria — Crowned queen of England and Cyprus— Berengaria sails for Palestine — Received by king Philip at Acre— Her residence there — Berengaria embarks with Joanna — Richard shipwrecked— Imprisoned — Berengaria at Rome — The queens escorted by count Raymond St, Gilles — Queen Joanna married to him — Misfortunes of king Richard— Eleanora's regency — Her letter to the pope — She again redeems the gold cup of the monks of Bury — ^Berengaria resigns the captive Cypriot — Berengaria's brother — Queen-mother returns with Richard to England — She remits her queen-gold a third time to the monks of Bury — Berengaria forsaken — Richard's penitence — Berengaria's goodness — Follows Richard to war — Devoted love- King's death — Death of queen Joanna — Berengaria's dower — Her pecuniary troubles — Builds abbey of Espan — Resides there — Dies there — Bm-ied— Effigy — Character. Berenoahia, the beautiful daughter of Sancho the Wise, king of Navarre, was first seen by Richard Cceur de Lion, when count of Poitou/ at a grand tournament given by her gallant brother at Fampeluna, her native city. Richard was the captivated by the beauty of Berengaria, but his engage- ment to the fair and frail Alice of France prevented him from offering her his hand. Berengaria may be considered a .Proven9al princess by language and education, though she * See the preceding biography. ^£^ie'/?yiaylc^ C^mVYZ/'My. London. Henry CoIbTnTi,li36']. F '^ I t'i il- I ■'• \n }- -! \ in 1 • i . > ) f ' ; ■ . \ fc^^ 4i^ ■^ g I IK bl b( sii sh va flo Ri thj bee mv war Strt bro< t^jlf BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 295 was Spanish by descent. Her mighty sire, Sancho the "Wise, had for his immediate ancestor Sancho the Great, called the emperor of all Spain, although he inherited but the Uttle kingdom of Navarre. He married Beatrice, daughter to Alphonso king of Castile, by whom he had three children, Berengaria, Blanche, and one son, Sancho, sumamed 'the Strong,' — a hero celebrated by the Provenyal poets for his gallant exploits against the Moors ; for he defeated the Mira- molin, and broke with his battle-axe* the chains that guarded the camp of the infidel, which chains were afterwards trans, ferred to the armorial bearings of Navarre. .,^^ An ardent friendship had subsisted, from Loyhood, between Richard and Sancho the Strong, the gallant brother of Beren- garia. A similarity of pursuits strengthened the intimacy of Richard with the royal family of Navarre. • The father and brother of Berengaria were celebrated for their skill and judg- ment in Proven9al poetry.'' Berengaria was herself a learned princess ; an*^ ftichard, who was not only a troubadour-poet, but, as actinji • reign of Aquitaine, was the prince and judge of all 1 .^j^dours, became naturally drawn into close bonds of amity with a family, whose tastes and pursuits were similar to his own. No one can marvel that the love of the ardent Richard should be strengthened when he met the beautiful, the culti- vated, and virtuous Berengaria, in the famihar intercourse which sprang from his friendship with her gallant brother ;' but a long and secret engagement, replete with " hope deferred," was the fate of Richard the Lion-hearted and the fair flower of Navarre. Our early historians first mention the attachment of Richard and Berengaria about the year 1177. If we take that event for a datum, even allowing the princess to have been very young when she attracted the love of Richard, she must have been twenty-six, at least, before the death of his ' Atlas Historique. ' ' ^ Chronicle of Navarre, ' Richard and his nephew, the trouhadonr count of Champagne, who after- wards married Blanche, the younger sister of Berengaria, were, with Sancho the Strong, on the most intimate terms of friendship, hemg fratres jurati, or sworn brothers, according to a custom of the chivalric ages, . ..j. !; 1 I! i ,1 \r,\ I ! \% *■' i ; I ! , < ,y ■ 1' i 296 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. "i: %' father placed him at liberty to demand her hand. Richard had another motive for his extreme desire for this alliance ; he considered that his beloved mother, queen Eleanora, was deeply indebted to king Sancho, the father of Berengaria, because he had pleaded her cause with Henry II., and obtained some ameUoratiou of her imprisonment. Soon after 1 <;hard ascended the EngHsh throne, he sent his mother, queen Eleanora, to the court of her friend Sanclio the Wise, to demand the princess Berengaria in marriage; "for," says Vinisauf, "he had long loved the elegant girl." Sancho the Wise not only received the proposition with joy, but entrusted Beiengaria to the care of queen Eleanora. The royal ladies travelled from the 30urt rf Navarre together across Italy to Naples,' where they found the ships belonging to Eleanora had arrived in the bay. But etiquette forbade Berengaria to approach her lover tiU he was free from the claims of Alice ; therefore she sojourned with queen Eieanora at Brindisi, m the spring of 1191, waiting the message from king Richard, annomicing that he was free to receive the hand of the princess of Navarre. It was at Messina that the question of the engagement b'^een the princess Alice and the king of England was debu. d with Philip Augustus, her brother ; and more than once, the potentates assembled for the crusade expected that the forces of France and England would be called into action, to decide the right of king Richard to give his hand to another lady than the sister of the king of France. The rhymes of Piers of Langtoft recapitulate these events with brevity and quaintness : — • " Then spake king Philip, and in grief said, vi ' My sister Alice is now forsaken, Since one, of more riches, of Navarre hast thou taken.* When kuig Richard understood what king Philip had sworn. Before clergy he stood, imd proved on that mom. That Alice to his father a cliild had borne, Wliich his sire king Henry held for his own t A maiden-child it was, and now dead it is. ' This was a great trespass, and agauist mine own witte If I Alice take.'" * Roger of Wendover, Dr. Giles* translation ; vol. ii. p. 95. He says queoii Sleauora crossed " Mount .Janna and the plains of Italy with Berengaria." ;*■- BERENGARIA Ojf NAVARRE. 297 King Philip contended that Richard held in hand his sister's dower, the good city of Gisors. Upon this, the king of England brou^J t the matter to a conclusion, in these words : " ' Now/ said king Richard, * that menace may not be. For thou sholt have ward of Gisors thy citJe, And treasure ilk a deal.' Richard yielded him liis right, his treasure and his town. Before witness at sight, (of clerk and eke baron.) • ' His sister he might marry, wherever God might like, , , And, to make certainty, Richard a quittance tk." The French contemporary clironiclers, who are exceedingly indignant at the repudiation of their princess, attribute it solely to Eleanbra^s influence. Bernard, the treasurer, says, " The old queen could not endure that Richard should espouse Alice, but demanded the sister of the king of Navarre for a wiie for her son. At this the king of Navarre was right joyful, and she travelled with queey» Elecnora to Messina. When she arrived, Richard was absent ; but queen Joanna was there, preparing herself to embark next day. The queen of England could not tarry, but said to Joanna, — *Fair daughter, take this damsel for me to the king your brother, and tell him I command him to espouse her speedily.' "' Piers of Langtoft resumes : — " She beleft Berengere, At Richard's costage. Queen Joanne held her dear; They lived as doves in cago." Eleanora commenced her jomney to Italy, where she had a conference with pope Celestine, at the castle of Radulphi,' The aged queen took upon herself the cares of regency for her son Richard. She was in England very soon after his mar- riage with Berengaria was made public, for she there claimed her share of queen-gold in the fines or aid contributed by the feudal tenants of the crown on account of that marriage; which fact the following anecdote will authenticate. The monks of Bury contrived to dispense with their share of the payment ; for, pleading scarcity of coin, they sent in, to make up their aid to the king's marriage, a cup of gold, worth one ,1 * Bernard le Tr^sorier. ' Her letter to pope Celestine. — Epistles of Peter of Bloisj cxlvi. "^ ■\ ' n -«(4.<. 298 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. hundred marks^ which Henry II. had given to the shriue of [^duiund, martyr and king. The queen-f cnt Eleanora recog- nised the cup, and taking it £rom the heap of treaeure sent into the royal treasury, she said; " I claim this as my portion being my queen-gold. It was given to the monks of Bury by Henry, my late lordj and I give it back to them, on con- dition that they pray for me and for his soul with increased Ifervfency."* '^^^'^^ ^^^^ ^"^ ^-^^ ^^^ ^ ^'"'^ ^^"^^ ^^'' •8" At the arrival of Berenigaria in Sicil|y^' king Richard and king Ttocred' Vrere dbsent' orf ti'^rilgriih^^ to ttie shrine of St. Agatha, at Catania, where Ta;?red must have devoutly prayed for the riddance of his guest. Richard here presented the Sicihan king with a famous sword, pretending it was Calibum, the brand of king Arthur, lately found at Glaston- bury during his fiither's antiquarian researches for the tomb of that king. Richard then embarked in his favourite galley, named by him * Trenc-the-mere." He had previously, in honour of his betrothment, instituted an order of twenty-four knights, who pledged themselves in a fraternity with the king to scale the walls bf Acre; and that they might be known in the storming of that city, the king appointed them to wear a blue band of leather 6ti ' the left leg, from which they were caUed 'kttights of We filu^'11iong.^» '*'^' The season of Letit ' |(reVet[ted thb'imidaediaie marriage of RfchaM and his betohea'|'Md'"L'M^^ette Sid not permit 'th^^wtedldea itiaia^ B^M^i^ i8 ^M^ iii the Tienc-the^ '^km \MMii!i^\n^^&sA^p^ sailed, Wh^^f iA^%nee!^f.»*d*' Ii'*»Pitt^^Mjaiigt6ft'who ^^ee^en^ tlic ^jjttie-ofjtti^.^fefi^V V nil Mn/ii) dinr ar/w JniU h)^i:u,\: u.a'I , ^ Hovfeaen, Sir Egerton Bridg«& names Roger St^ John as one pf these early "ihiglfti^bf , ^ English Richard ploughs the deep." But we must turn a deaf ear to the bewitching metre of poHshed verse, and quote details taken by Piers of Lang- toft from the Proven9al comrade of Uichard and Bereugaria's crusade voyage : — *' Till king Richard be forward he mny have no rest» Acres then is his tryste upon Saracen fiends,* To venge Jesu Clurist hitherward he wends. The king's sister Joanne, and lady Berengare, '■ Foremost s^led of ilk one ; next them his chancelbr, Roger Mancel. The chancellor so hight. His tide fell not well ; a tempest on him light, '■' ■> His ship was down borne, himself there to die; The king's seal was lost, with other gallies tway. Lady Joanna she the Lord Jesu besought. In Cyprus she might be to haven quickly brought: i'-- . The maiden Berengare, she was sore afright. That neither far nor near, her king rode in sight." Queen Joanna was alarmed for herself, but the maiden Berengaria only thought of Richard's safety. Bernard, the treasurer, does not alloA/ that Joanna was quite so much Mghtened. We translate his words : " Queen Joanna's galley sheltered in the harbour of Limoussa, when Isaac, the lord of Cyprus, sent two boats, and demanded if the queen would land ? She declined the offer, saying, ' All she wanted was, to know whether the king of England had passed?' They repUed, "They did not know.' At that juncture Isaac approached with a great power; upon which the chevaliers who guarded the royal ladies got the galley in order, to be rowed out of the harbour at the first indication of hostility. Meantime Isaac, who saw Berengaria on board, demanded ' What damsel that was with them ?' They declared, * She was the sister of the king of Navarre, whom the king of England's mother had brought for him to espouse.' Isaac seemed so angiy at this intelligence, that Stephen de Tum- * Fiend means 'enemy ' in German, and doubtleia in Anglo-Saxon. V' ''\ ^ j ; } ;■ i I 300 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. .;. i J I ' ham gave signal to heave up the anchor, and the queen's galley rowed with all speed into the offing."* When the gaJe had somewhat abated, king Richard, after mustering his navy, found not only that the ship was missing wherein were drowned both the chancellor of England and the great seal, but the galley that bore the precious freight of his sister and his bride. He immediately sailed from a friendly Cretan harbour in search of his lost ships. When arrived off Cyprus, he entered the bay of Famatnjsta, and beheld the galley that contained his princesses jabauiing heavily and tossing in the offing. He became infuriated with the thought that some wrong had been offered to them, and leaped, armed r-s he was, into the first boat that could be pre- pared. His anger increased on learning that the queen's galley had put into the harbour in the storm, but had been diven inhospitably from shelter by the threats of the Greek despot.^ At the time of Richard's landing, Isaac and all his islanders were busily employed in plundering the wreck of the chancel- lor's ship and two Enghsh transports, then stranded on the Cypriot shore. As this self-styled emperor, though in be- haviour worse than a pagan, professed to be a Christian, Richard, at his first landing, sent him a civil message, sug- gesting the propriety of leaving off plundering his wrecks. To this Isaac returned an impertinent answer, saying, " That whatever goods the sea threw on his island he should take, without asking leave of any one." . , " They shall be bought full dear, by Jesu, heaven's king!" With this saying, Richard, battle-axe in hand, led his crusaders so boldly to the rescue, that the mock emperor and his Cypriots scampered into Limoussa, the capital of the island, much faster than they had left it. Freed from the presence of the inhospitable despot, king Richard made signals for Joanna's ^ailey to enter the harbour. Berengaria, half dead with fatigue and terror, was welcomed on shore by the conquering liirg, when, says the chronicler, " there was joy and love enow." * Guizot's edition of Bernard le Tresorier. 2 Vinisauf and Piers Langtoft. 'Despot* was Greek potentates. a title given to the petty BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 301 M'F As soon as Isaac Comnenus was safe benmd the walls of Iiis citadel, he sent » message to request a conference with { king Richard, who expected that he had a Uttle lowered the ,, despot's pride; but whe« they nutjt, Isaac was so fuU of vapouring and boasting, that he elicited &om his illustrious j auditor an aade in Euglish ; and as Cour de liion then r uttered the only words ; in our language he ever was known ta.j i speak, it ia well they have been recorded by chconide: — j "Ha, de debill" exclaimed king ilichard; "hs apeke like a ii folfi UretOn. -)iui,(i i ii* ^ki. n.i mit lUv) :ni ,KU'>(\'i J ill' ici/i'lfH As Isaac and Richarjd ; could not come to any tevme of ,< pacification, the despot retreated to a stronghold, in a neigh- ( boiuring mounta^^; while Richard, aftar making a speech ta ij the Londoners, (we hope in more choice EngUsb than tlie ,) abave,) instigating them to the storm of the Cypriot capital ,« mth promise of plunder, led them, op to the attack, axe in ,f hand. The Londoners easily captured LimQussa^Y) vl6niiq>orint Directly the coast was clear of Isaac and his myrmidons, magnificent preparations were, made at Limoussa for the „ nuptials and coronation of king Richard and Berengaria. We, ,] arc able to describe the appearance made by these royal per- ^ sonsges at this high sojemnity. King Ricliard^s costume, we rj may suppose, varied httle from that in which he gave audience ■. ! to the desnot Isaac a day after the marriage had tskeu place.^ "A satin tunio of rose-colour; was bdted round his waist ; his p mantle was of striped silver tissue, brocaded with silver h^- ;„ moons J liis sword, of fine Damascus steel, had a lult of goldi „ and a silver-scaled sheath: on his head he wore a scarlet bonnet, brocaded in gold with figures of animals. He bore a tnmiiheori in his liand. His Spanish steed was led before' him, saddled and bitted with gold^and the feaddfe wa. -^llaid' ' with precious ^ones ; two little golden Kona were fixed on it, ' ' in the place of a' crup]p6!r : thej^ were figttred tnth th^ir paws raised, in act to'sttilte ^ach' other. ''^ lik'^this atti*e," Vinisauf ;J -".■<■ V Pifrs.of L^gtoft. Tliis epeech implied np offence to the English, but wag ,' mftuit as areproacti to the ^i^eTOTisytvhb ii^'fo'4;hlfe dsiV^roV^tbial in Ffancfe hv''^^ their Vvilflihiass.' !BeHklM;(:.Udnu:di'wab'bh^ikgi^D(iBtitho:fiitetoii^ who dc^^^ >l him of tlie society of his then acknowletiged heir, Arthur, their young duke. — ■di oJ Ji'jvig oUli a m'tt .-.,,( I ftajsiujkl a-ml lurn hjii^iuiiV ■ ■ t i^.:|' ! i ! iiiii .,1-n f I. t •4 p* m II e 1^1 4 "t i ii ^ J 302 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. adds, "Richard, who had yellow curls, a bright complexion and a figure like Mars himself, appeared a perfect model of military and manly grace." The effigy of queen Berengaria, at Espan, certainly presents her as a bride, — a circumstance which is ascertained by the flowing tresses, royal matrons always wearing their hair covered, or else closely braided. Her hair is parted, a la vierge on the brow ; a transparent veil, open on each side like the Spanish mantillas, hangs behiiid, and covers the rich tresses at their length : the veil is confined by a regal diadem, of pecuUar splendour, studded with several bands of gems, and surmounted by fleurs-de-lis, to whicli so much fohage is added as to give it the appearance of a double crown, — perhaps because she was crowned queen of Cyprus as well as England. Our antiquaries affirm, that the peculiar character of Beren- garia's elegant but singular style of beauty brings coLnction to every one who looks on her effigy, that it is a carefully finished portrait.' At his marriage, king Richard proclaimed a grand feast. " To LimousHa the lady was led, his feast the king did cry, Berengere will be wed, and sojourn thereby, „ The tldrd day of the feast, bishop Bernard of Bayonne Renewed oft the geste, to the queen he gave the crown."* "And there, in the joyous month of May, 1191," says an ancient writer, "in the flourishing and spacious isle of Cyprus, celebrated as the very abode of the goddess of love, did king Richard solemnly take to wife his beloved lady Berengaria." By the consent of the Cypriots, wearied of Isaac's tyranny, and by the advice of the allied crusaders who came to assist at his nuptials, Richard was crowned king of Cyprus, and his bride, queen of England and Cyi)rus. Soon after, the fair heiress of Cyprus, daughter to the despot Isaac, came and threw herself at the feet of Richard. " Lord king," she said, " have mercy on me !" when the king cour- teously put forth his hand to lift her from the ground, and sent her to his wife and his sister Joanna. As many historif-nl ' See portrait. ' May 12th : Howe's Chronicle, p. 194. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 303 scandals are afloat respecting the Cypriot princess, impl3dng that Richard, captivated by the distressed beauty, from that moment forsook his queen, it is well to observe the words of an eye-witness,' who declares "that Richard sent the lady directly to his queen, from whom she never parted till after their return to Europe." The surrender of the Cypriot princess was followed by the capture of her father, whom the king of England bound in sUver chains, richly gilt, and pre- sented to queen Berengaria as her captive." After the conclusion of the nuptials and coronation of Berengaria, her royal bridegroom once more hoisted his flag on his good galley Trenc-the-mere, and set sail, in beautiful summer weather, for Palestine. Berengaria and her sister-in- law again embarked under the protection of sir Stephen de Turnham, such escort being safer than companionship with the wailike Richard.* Their gaUey made the port of Acre before the Trenc-the-mere. " On their arrival at Acre, though," says Bernard le Tresorier, " it was very grievous to the king of France to know that Richard was married to any other than his sister ; yet he received Berengaria with gi'eat courtesy, taking her in his arms, and lifting her on shore himself from the boat to the beach." Richard appeared before Acre on the long bright day of St. Baa^nabas, when the whole aUied array, elated by the naval victory he had won by the way, marched to the beach to welcome their champion. "The earth shook with footsteps of the Christians, and the sound of their shouts." * The Provencal metrical historian, who is the guide of Piers of Langtoft. ' Isaac afterwards entered among the Templars, and died in their order. Richoi'd presented his island to Guy de Lnsignan, his friend, as a compensation for the loss of Jerusalem. This dethronement of Isaac and the captivity of his daughter was the origin of Richard's imprisonment in Germany, as wo shall presently see. * The king's arrival was delayed by a naval battle with a rich Saracen argosy, which he captured with great plunder. The manoeuvres of the Trcnc-the-moro are thus described by the Provencal j likewise the casting of the Greek fire : — " Tlie king's own galley, he called it Trenc-the-mere ; It was first under weigh, and came that ship full near. Who threw her buckets out. The galley to her drew. The king stood Ml stout, and many of them slow. Though wild fire they cast." 1 , ' : il I- '"'• It }i I I 304 BERENOARIA OP NAVARRE. When Acre was taken, Richard estabhslied his queen and sister safely there. Tliey remained at Acre with the Cypnot pjincess during the whole of the Syrian campaign, under the care of Richard's casteUans, Bertrand de Verdun and Stephen de Munchenis. To the left of the mosque at Acre are tlie ruins of a palace, called to this day 'king Richard's palace:" this was doubtless the abode of Berengarin There is not a more pleasant spot in liistory than the td .cr friendship of Beitiigaria and Joanna, who formed an attachment amidst the perils and terrors of storm and siege, ending only with their lives. How quaintly, yet expressively, is their gentle and feminine love for each other marked by the sweet simplicity of the words,— • i '■ '' ' •i^ »i»<(»' M./ i''. • "They held each other dear, And lived as dovcH in cage !" noting, at the same time, the harem-like seclusion in -vhioh the royal ladies dwelt while sharing the crusade campaign. It was from the citadel of Acre that Richard tore down the banner of Leopold archduke of Austiia, who, by alliance with the family of the Comneni, was related to the Cypriot lady. Her captivity was the real matter of dispute, as the scandals which connected her name with that of king Richard seemed to touch the honour of the house of Austria. We have Uttle space to dwell on Richard's deeds of romantic valour in Palestine, on the capture of Ascalon, or the battle of Jaffa, before which city was killed Richard's good steed, named Fanuelle, whose feats in battle are nearly as much celebrated by the troubadours as those of his master.' After the death of Fanuelle, Richard was obliged to fight on foot. ' Dr. Clarke's Travels. The tradition is that Richard built the palace; but he had no time for any such work. The arohitectUFe is Saracenic, and it was doubtless » palace of the resident emir of Acre. ' Madame Cottin, in her celebrated but florid romance of Mathilde, has some faint idea that a sister of Richard's shai-cd his crusade with Berengaria; but neither that lady nor sir Walter Scott seem aware which princess of England was the person. ' By some called Favelle, probably Flavel, meaning yellow-coloured. Vinisauf declares this peerless charger was taken among the spoils of Cyprus, with another named Lyard. The cavaliers in ancient times named their steeds from their colour, as Bayard, bay -colour ; Lyard, grey ; Ferraunt, black as iron ; Flacel, yellow, or very light sorreL T ' .1'.;/ queen and the Cypriot I, under the md Stephen Lcre are the ■d's palace:" lere is not a friendship of it oinidst the ly witli their r gentle and jet simplicity . in nhioh the ampai^. It >re down the ■ alliance with Cypriot lady. lS the scandals Lcliard seemed ds of romantic or the battle 's good steed, larly as much .aster.* After fight on foot. It the palace ; but accnic, aiid it was tf athilde, has some Berengaria; but eae of England was joloured. Vinisauf ■prus, with another steeds from their aa iron; Flaul, . .n.w BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 805 The courteous Saladin, who saw him thus battling, wa« shocked that 80 accomplished a cavalier should be dismounted, and sent him, ns a present, a magnificent Arab charger. Richard had the precaution to order one of his knights to mount the (jharger first. Tlie lieadstrong beast no sooner found a stranger on his back, than he took the bit between his teeth, and, refusing all control, galloped back to Ids own qujuters, carrying the Chris- tian knight into the midst of Saladin's camp. If king Richard had ridden the wilful animal, he would, in like manner, have been at the mercy of the Saracens. Saladin was so much ashamed of the misbehaviour of his present, that he could scarcely look up while he apologized to the Christian knight, for it appeared as if he had laid a trap for the liberty of king Richard. He sent back the knight mounted on a more manage- able steed, on which Richard rode to the end of the campaign.* King Richard, dui'ing his Syi-ian campaign, was once witliin sight of Jerusalem, but never took it. While his queen Beren- garia sojourned at Acre, an incident befell liim, of which De Jomville, the companion in arms of St. Louis, has thus pre- served the memory: — "In those times, when Hugh duke of Burgundy'^ and king Richard of England were abiding at Acre, they received intelligence that they might take Jerusalem if they chose, for its gan'ison had gone to the assistance of Damascus. They accordingly marched towards the holy city, the Enghsh king's battaUons leading the way, while Burgundy's force brought up the rear. But when Richard drew near to Jerusalem, intelligence was brought him that the duke of Bur- gundy had turned back with his division, out of pure envy, that it might not be said that the king of England had tn-.tT, Jerusalem. As these tidings were being discussed, one of the Enghsh knights cried out, — ' Sire, sire ! only come liither, and I will show you Jerusalem.' But the king, tlirowing down his weapons, said, with tears in his eyes and hands up- hfted to heaven, — ' Ah, Lord God ! I pray thee that I may never see thy holy city Jerusalem since things thus happen, * Chronicle of Bernard le Tresorier. ^ Philip Augustus and the duke of Austria deciunped from the crusade at Cesnrca, Hugh of Burgundy commanded the remnant of the French forces. VOL, I, X I; ,\ ' 1 i i'iil I H. 1 ^.I'l ^-, i: ) I 306 BERENGARIA OP NAVARRE. and since I cannot deliver it from the hands of thine enemies!' Richard could do nothing more than return to his queen and sister at Acre. " You must know that this king Richard performed such deeds of prowess when he was in the Holy Land, that the Saracens, on seeing their horses frightened at a shadow or a bush, cried out to them, *What! dost think Melec-Ric is there?' This they were accustomed to say from the many times he had vanquished them. In hke manner, when the children of Turks or Saracens cried, their mothers said to them, ' Hush, hush! or I will give you to king Richard/ and from the terror of these words the babes were instantly quiet."' The final truce between Richard and Saladin was concluded in a fair flowery meadow'^ near Mount Tabor, where Richard was so much charmed with the gallant bearing of the ' prince of Miscreants,' as Saladin is civilly termed in the crusading treaties, that he declared he would rather be the frierid of that brave and honest pagan, than the ally of the crafty Plulip or the brutal Leopold. It is a tradition, often cited in modem romance, but without historical foundation, that Richard offered the hand of his sister, queen Joanna, to Saladin's brother, Melee Adhel. The autumn of 1192 had commenced when king Richard concluded his peace ^nth. Saladin, and prepared to return, covered with fruitless glory, to his native dominions. A mys- terious estrangement had, at this time, taken place between him and Berengaria; yet the chroniclers do not mention that any rival liad supplanted the queen, but merely that accidents of war had divided liim from her company. As for the Cypriot princess, if he were estranged from his queen, he must like- ■wise have been separated from the fair captive, since she always remaii.ed with Berengaria. The king bade farewell to his queen and sister, and saw them embark the very evening of his own departure. The queens, accompanied by the Cypriot * Joinville's words are thus parni>hrased by Drydcn : — " No more Sebiistian's formidable luime ; r I Is longer iised to still the crying babe." ; ' Piers Langtoft. :'^i BEHliNGARIA Of NAVARRE. 307 princess, sailed from Acre, under the care of Stephen de Turnham, Septemher the 29th. Richard meant to return by a different route across Europe. He travelled in the disguise of a Templar, and embarked in a ship belonging to the master of the Temple. This vesf?el was wrecked off the coast of Istria, which forced Richard to proceed homewards tlu-ough the domains of his enemy, Leopold of Austria. To his ignorance of geography is attributed his near approach to Leopold's capital. After several narrow escapes, a page, sent by Richard to pm-chase provisions at a village near Vienna, was recognised by an officer who had made the late crusade with Leopold. The boy was seized, and, after enduiing cruel torments, he confessed where he had left his master. When Leopold received certain inteUigence where Richard harboured, the inn was searched, but not a soul found there who bore any appearance of a king. " No," siiid the host, "there is no one here like him whom you seek, without he be the Templar in the kitchen, now turning the fowls which are roasting for dinner." The officers of Leopold took the hint and went into the kitchen, where, in fact, was seated a Templar very busy turning the spit. The Austrian chevalier, who had served in the crusade, knew him, and said quickly, "There he is: seize him!" Coeur de Lion started from the spit, end did battle for liis Uberty right valiantly, but was overborne by numbers.' The revengeful Leopold immediately imprisoned his gallant enemy, and immured him so closely in a Styrian castle called Tenebreuse, that for months no one knew whether the Uon-hearted king was alive or dead. Richard, whose heroic name was the theme of admiration in Europe, and the burden of every song, seemed vanished from the face of the earth. Better fortune attended the vessel that bore the fair freight of the three royal ladies. Stephen de Tumham's galley arrived without accident at Naples, where Berengaria, Joanna, and the Cypriot princess landed safely, and, under the care of sir Stephen, journeyed to Rome. The Provencal traditions declare, that here Berengaria first took the alarm that some ' Translated from Bernard le Tresorier.— Quizofs Chronicles. x2 .^,. t 1 li I !. I 1 : * < If- ■ i, ? ^ i f ■ \ t ' ' 'I rip- ' 'Hi I . !i : ; ;■ ( if ',:)'• I 1 ¥ i il B.l|ii«l>i<4 ? 308 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. disaster had happened to her lord, from seeing a belt of jewels offered for sale which she knew had been on his person when she parted from hira. At Rome she Ukewise heai'd some vague reports of his shipwreck, and of the enmity of the emperor Henry VI.' Berengaria was detained at Rome, with the princesses her companions, by her fear of the emperor, for upwards of half a year. At length the pope, moved by her distress and earnest entreaties, sent them, under the ciire of messire Mellar, one of the cardinals, to Pisa, whence they proceeded to Grenoa, where they took shipping to Marseilles. " At Mar- seiUes Berengaria was met by her friend and kinsman the king of Arragon, who showed the royal ladies every mark of reverence, gave them safe-conduct through his Proven9al do- mains, and sent them on, under the escort of the count de Sancto Egidio." This Egidio is doubtless the crusader Ray- mond count St.Gilles, who, traveUing from Rome with a strong escort, offered his protection to the distressed queens of England and Sicily; and though his father, the count of Thoulouse, had during Richard's crusade invaded Guienne and drawn on himself a severe chastisement from Berengaria's faithftd brother, Sancho the Strong, yet the young count so well acquitted himself of his charge, that he won the affections of the fair widow, queen Joanna, on the journey.- The attach- ment of these lovers healed the enmity that had long subsisted between the house of Aquitaine and that of the ^ counts of Thoulouse, on accoimt of the superior claims of queen Eleanora on that great fief. When Eleanora found the love that sub- sisted between her youngest child and the heir of Thoulouse, she concihated his father by giving up her rights to her daughter, and Berengaria had the satisfaction of scciiig her two friends united v ' ' or she arrived at Poitou.^ Now queen Berengaria is left safely in her own dominions, it is time to return to her unfortunate lord, who seems to have been destined, by the malice of Leopold, to a life-long * Hoveden's Chronicle. ' Roger Hoveden, fol. 447. • Piers of Langtoft says that king Richard betrothed his sister to tlie heroic crusader 8t. Oilles, in Palestine ; an assertion contradicted by the cmuity sub- sisting between the count, his father, and himself. t of jewels raon when iai'd some ity of the icesses her rds of half istress and of messire ' proceeded "At Mar- Insmau the iry mark ©f '0ven9al do- e count de isader Ray- ith. a strong I queens of ae count of 2d Guienne, Berengaria's g count so .e affections The attach- ms subsisted counts of sn Eleanora ; that sub- |f Thoulouse, gilts to her if srxiiig her dominions, o seems to to a life-long I fol. 447. Iter to the heroic Ithe emnity suh- BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 309 incarceration. The royal prisoner almost despaired of liberty when he wrote that pathetic passage in his well-known Pro- veu9al tenson, saying, " Now know I for a certainty that there exists for me neither friend nor parent ; or, for the lack of gold and silver,! should not so long remain a prisoner." He scarcely did justice to his affectionate mother, who, directly she learned his captivity, never ceased exerting herself for his release. Without giving any credence to the ballad story of king Richard and the lion's heart, wliich solely seems to have arisen from a metaphorical epithet of the troubadour Peyrols,^ and is not even alluded to by the most imaginative of con- temporary chroniclers, it really appears that Richard was ill- treated during his German captivity. Matthew Paris declares he was thrown into a dungeon from whence no other man ever escaped with life, and was loaded with irons; yet his countenance was ever serene, and his conversation pleasant and facetious with the crowds of armed guards, who were stationed at his dungeon-door day and night. It was a long time before Richard's friends could with any certainty make out his locality. He was utterly lost for some months. Blondel, a troubadour knight and poet, who had been shipwrecked with him on the coast of Istria, and who had sought him through the cities of southern Germany, sang, beneath the tower Tenebreuse, in which he was confined, a tenson which Richard and he had composed together. Scarcely had he finished the first stanza,^ when Richard rephed with the second. Blondel directly went to queen Eleanora, and gave ' Tn the beautiM crusade sirvente extant by Peyrols, he calls the king " lion- hearted Richard." Peyrols was his fellow-soldier.-Sismondi. The earliest chronicler who mentions the lion-legend is Rastall, the brother-in-law of sir Thomajs More, who had no better means of knowing the truth than we have. Here aic his quaint sayings on the subject : " It is said that a lyon was put to king Richard, being in prison, to have devoured him ; and when the lyon was gaping, he put his arm in his mouth and pulled the lyon ly the Iteart so hard, that he slew the lyon, and therefore is called Coeur de Lyon ; while others say he is called Coeur de Lyon because of liis boldness and hardy stomach." ' Blondel's tenson is not preserved, but the poem Richard com^josed is still in the Bibliothcque Royale. There is no just reason for doubting this Provencal tradition of Blondel's agency in the discovery of Richard. Crescembini and most foreign historians authenticate it. The Penny Cyclopedia (not very favoiu*able ta romance) looks on it as we do. In fact, it is consistent with the maimers and customs of the era. ■iV t : M : !■: it ■ J ■i^iii 310 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. her tidings of the existence of her son, and she took measui'es i\ • ^i U\\ ih- W for his release. - > • ' ' ■ ' ' ' "u ')r' The letters which Eleanora of Aquitaine addressed to pope Celestine on the subject of her son^s captivity, were penned by the royal secretary, Peter of Blois.' Whether the com- position emanated from Peter, or from his royal lady, is another question. There are many passages alluding with passionate penitence to her own former criminality, which no courtier dared to have indited ; on the other hand, the numerous scrip. tural narratives and analogies indicate the ecclesiastic, while a tincture of pedantry, to say notliing of punning, speaks strongly of the professional scribe. The letters are written in Latin, but that language presented few difficulties to Eleanora, who could compose in Proven9al, a dialect far more Latinized than French : likewise, she had been accustomed to the daily service of the church. The tenour of the epistles, the strain of self-condemnation, and the agonized maternity that runs through them, give the idea that they were written from her Hps, or transciibed from passages which she had noted down. What scribe, for instance, would have presumed thus to express himself? — " 0 Mother of mercy ! look upon a wretched mother. If thy son, the fount of mercy, avenges the sins of the mother on the son, let him launch his vengeance on her who has sinned j let him punish me, the guilty, and not let his wratli diverge on my unoffending son. Me, miserable yet unpitied as I am ! why liave I, the queen of two kingfloms, survived to endure the wretchedness of calamitous old age ? " The young king and the coimt of Bretagne sleep in the dust, while their hapless mother lives on, tortured with the remembrance of the dead. Two sons were left, for my consolation, but now they only survive for my sorrow, condemned and miserable wretch that I am ! Richard the king is in chains, while John tvastes and devastates his captive brother's realm with fire and sword. The Lord's hand is heavy upon me : trvdy his anger fights against me wlien my sons strive together, if that may be called a strife where one person langnislies in prison, and hia opjionent, oh, grief of griefs ! lawlessly usurps the mifcrtunate one's dominions." The queen-iLother here alludes to the strife raised by prince John. He had obtained his brother's leave to abide in England, on condition that he submitted to the government established there. Queen Eleanora had intended to fix her residence at Rouen, as a central situation between her own dominions and ' Letters of ir'eter of Blois, edited by Du Chwue. — Bib. du Roi, Parl^ # measures BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 311 those of king Ricliard. But the confused state of affairs in England summoned her thither, February 11, 1193. She found John in open rebelhon; for, stimulated by messages from Phihp Augustus, offering him aU Richard's continental prorinces, and the hmid of Alice, rejected by Richard, he aimed at nothing less than the Enghsh crown. The arrival of his mother curbed his turbulence : she told him to touch his brother's rights under peril of her curse ; she forbade his disgi'aceful intention of allying himself with Alice j and, to render such mischievous project impossible, she left that piincess in close confinement at Rouen, instead of dehvering her to Phihp Augustus, as king Richard had agreed, — so httle truth is there in the common assertion that the worthless chaiacter of John might be attributed to the encouragement his vices received from his mother; but it was the doting affection of Henry II. for his youngest son that had this effect, as he was the child of his old age, and constantly near him, while the queen waa kept in confinement at a distance from her family. • r .il .. : frr,,,| i,;,,i., i.. ;, ■ ::rU- To proceed with Eleanora's letter. Her agonizing excla- mations and self-reproaches are diversified by tjie scribe Peter with interpolations from Job and Jeremiah, and the penitential Psalms J yet an earnest vein of personahty runs through the epistle, which is in many passages imbued with historical truth. Eleanora, when meditating on a journey to visit, or rather to search for, the prison of her son, thus expresses herself: — " If I leave my son's dominions, invaded as they are on every side with enemies, they will, on my departure, lose all counsel and solace : if T remain, I shall not behold my son, whose face I long to see. There will be none to labouv for his redemption, and, what I fear the most, he will be goaded for an exorbitant ransom ; and unused as his generous youth is to such terrible calamities, he will not survive all he has to endiu-f ."* This remarkable letter, then, seems to enter into a strain of re- proach against the pope, which has caused some surprise to those who are not imbued with the pecuhar spiiit of that age • but the object of Eleanora is clearly to excite the pope into ut sert- mg his spiritual power against the usurpations of the emperor and the house of Austria, — in short, the same quarrel which is as undecided in the nineteenth century as it was in 1193. ' Letters of Peter of Blois, edited by Du Chesne.— Bib. du Roi, Paris. ^i i:H Urn r i' I !i ;:! .Il-i I !i :•« '!. 1' ' m "J-''!^."'' 3156 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. EleanoNi invokes the thui/'ers of the German pope Celes- tine against the German enci )acher, and strives to pique him into beco 0 n:' tiie advocate ol her son : — " Yet the p ."'e of the apostlcp still fills the aposfajlic chair, and his judgment- seat is a place of resort; wherefore it remains that you, O holy father! ;m w against thest! injurious r ties the sword of Peter, which is for this purpose vA w.^v people and kingdoms ; for the crost oi Christ excels the eagles of (,';;•« ir, Oio sword of Peter the weaptm of Constai 'iine, the apostolic see is above the imrtr:? power.* " Whercfoi-c, then, do you a;ave my son in bonds, delayini! Viegligf?'(]y ^ ,,;• rather, is it that you dare not free hhn? .... Woe lor us 'vhon the liljcpheiti dremls the wolf! leaving not only the hiinbs, but the clocc leadoi - of the '.\j\ in the bloody fangti of the beast of prey." After passionately reproaching;:: Celestiuc for his ahstincnioe frorti tVie thunders of excommunication, from interdicts, ter- ribic sentences, and the whole arscr al of spiritual \» arfiirc, she yemiiiik' him of his premise "thrice to send Icgtitos, Mhicli never v/i-rt eie.it/* — and liere the genius of the age availtd itself of a pun, \vhich r oneeit must be attributed to Peter of Blois rafhev than to tm. agonized mother, for she was too much in earuest fco ;>'uy on the sound of Latin word;^, and say *'ti:at luM nessengers were tied, rather than speeded forward/' in short, that they were men in hgatures, rather tluui legates. " I? my son wove pro.f ^lerous, tboy would hiisten at his summons, because they would expect SjiuiitiM largess from his generosity and the gn'iit revenncs of his dominions Is this the promise you made me at the caatle of PuidulK,-' with Buch protestation. 1 of aid and kindness ? Wliat availed it to feed my siiiiplicity vrlth mere words r" The passionate penitence of Eleanora broke forth in the foii'fwing exclamations, which, it will be allowed, were no flowers of her Bcribe'a rhetoric : — ' " ''!'''•' •♦Ob, Lord! to thee are the eyes of thy servant lifted np, — to t'lee: thou lookest on my grief. Lord of lords, and King of kings ! consider the caiise of thine Anointed j assert the empire of thine own Son, and at tlie same time save tho son of thine handmaid. Visit not on him the crimes of his father, or the ioiquitic)} of his mother I" Again Eleanora struggles to awake the jealousy of the pope, whom she suspects of Ghibiline tendendies or German partiality, by leprescnting the cruelty of the emperor Henry to churchmen. She accuses him of the assassinati-" t of the * Ibid. Tnese are all axioms and sayings of the Guelpliic party. ' Richard, she thus reminds pope Celestine, was elected head of . ale. 'It will be remembere' 'mt Eleanora, on her voyage '\-me . A/essinn, visited the pope, to adjust disputes concerning the arcli vm; of York. w>*L '4. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. "1 813 bishop of Liege, and of the imprisonment of several German and Italian prelates ; also of taking possession of Sicily, wliich, since the time of Constantine, had ever been the patrimony of St. Peter: — - " We feel evil : we dread more," concludes the queen. " I am no prophetess, yi,.c' even a prophet's daughter; yet my sorrow foresees greater troubles for the 'AilJire I That sorrow chokes the words I would utter : sobs impede my breath, ant! lose up the vocal utterance which would iurther express the thoughts of my E,«,A 1 Farewell." 3v ;he abruptness of the conclusion, it is by no means im- probable that the passion of grief, which had been excited by many passages in this letter, actually prevented the queen froi, ftirther dictation to Peter of Blois, who availed himself of a circumstance, at once natural and interesting, for the conclusion of his transcript. Those who read the whole of the epistle will not wonder that a churchman, writing such an epistle to the head of his church, should shrink from adding one line, even the usual formula of conclusion, on his own responsibility. , , , . i < ... : .t,;,-^- Throughout the whole of this exordium, historians can per- ceive that Eleanora, or her scribe, endeavours to put in strong antagonism the disputes then in their utmost virulence between the Guelphs and GhibiUnes, or the party of the church, or Italy, against the emperor of Germany. She accuses the pope of politically temporizing with the might of Germany, and strives to pique him into the assertion of his spiritual power in behalf of her Richard, who was by alliance as well as principle an undoubted Guelphite,' or supporter of the church against all temporal despotism, — excepting his own. * The office of ihc princes of the house of Guelph, the most civilized and heroic among the German potentates, was to defend, by their occupation of southern GennTAVARRE. 315 it is» recorded that Eieanora, the queen-regent, was personally superintending the legistration of the money and valuables that came into the treasiuy of her son. " Now," pursues the Bury chnmicier, " it was queen Eleanora's right, by the law of tlie land, to receive a hundred marks whensoever the king is ]).iid a thousand. So she took up this gold cup and gave it back to us once more, for the benefit of the soul of her dear lord, king Henry II." ' The adventures of this gold cup (which are not yet concluded) offer the most practical illustration of the nature of the claims of the queens of England on the aurnm reginae yet disco\ereA. ' * , r . .■i,;n'.; When the first instalment of king Richai'd's ransom was ready, his affectionate mooiier and the chief justiciary set out for Germany, a httle before Christmas. She was accompanied by her grand-daughter Eleanora, smuamed ' the Pearl of Brit- tany.' This yoimg princess was promised, by the ransom- treaty, in marriage to the heir of Leopold of Austria.'^ The Cvpriot princess was hkewise taken from the keeping of queen Berengaria, on the demand of the emperor, and escorted by queen Eleanora to the German congress, where she was sur- rendered to her Austrian relatives. It was owing to the exertions of the gallant Guelphic prin- ces, liis relations, that the actual hberation of Cceur de Lion was at last effected. Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony,^ and liio sons, appeared before the diet, and pleaded the cause of the English hero with the most passionate eloquence ; they pledged their credit for the payment of the remainder of his ransom, and actually left Wilham of Winchester, the youngest Guelphic prince, in pawn with the emperor for the rest of the ransom. After an absence of four years, three months, and nine days, king Richard landed at Sandwich, in April, the Stinday after St. George's-day, in company with his royal mother, who had the pleasure of surrendering to him liis dominions, both insular and continental, without diminution. ' Chronicle of Josceline de Brakelonde. ' ^ The marriage-contract was afterwards broken, ' Her majesty queen Virtr .ia is the representative of this great and generous prince ; and at the same ; ' cm his wife Matilda, eldest daughter of Henry II., derives a second direct d^,c». ut from the house of Plantagenet. I «' I t i 1 'i ; ' 1 I h,| '! J. j; f 316 BERENGAUIA OF NAVARRE. ' Eleanora*8 detention of the princess Alice in Normandy had (bmwn on that country a fierce invasion frcjm Philip Augustus, the resiUt of winch would have been doubtful ii" the tears of Berengaria, then newly arrived in ^Vquitjune, had not prevailed on her noble bro*:'.(,r, Sancho the Strong, to tiincise France with two hur •■«(! h '-^.o knights. By the valour of this hero, and hin .imuiriC reinforcement, Normandy w;is delivered from tlie Iving of France.' Berengaria, during the imprisonment of her royal husband, lost her father, Sancho the Wise, king of Navarre, who died in 1194/ after a glorious reign of forty- tour years. After a second coronation, Richard went in progress throughout England, mth his royal mother, to sit in judgment on those castellans who had beti*ayed their fortresses to his brother J uim : by the advice of his mother they were treated with Tinch lenity. At all these councils queen Eleanora assisted liim, being regarded with the utmost reverence, and sitting in State at* his right hand. Probably in the same progress, kuig liichard sold the manor of Mildenliall to the monks of Bury St. Edmund's. Quenn Eleanora made a claim of her aurum ret/ince, or queen-gold, on the sum paid to h^.: son. Once more the wily ecclesiastics, knowing the good service the gold cup of Henry II. had done for them, sent it in as part of payment, protesting their utter inability otherwise to make up the price. Oueen Eleanora was present, for the purpose of asserting her clai^i on the tenth of the gold ; but when she saw, for the third tiuic, hhe required from the monks of Biuy a solemn promise "tnat, for the tin> to come, the gold cup of Henry II. should be held sacred, juid never again Ije set for sale or laid in pledge."'* ^Tien the king, in the cour of h- s progress, arri\ cd in Normandy, queen Eleanora introu iced ii 'O his chamber prince John, who knelt at his royal brotticr's feei for pardon. Richai-d ruiaed him, with this magnanimous expression : " I forgive * Tyrrell, * Histoi^ of Navarre. ' Josceline dc HnikelonJe. RERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 817 yon, John ; and I wish I could as easily t ot your offence, jis you will my pardon." King Iliehai'd finished his progrcHs by iCHiding some months in his Angevin territories. Although he was in the vicinity of the loving and faitliM Berengaria, he did not return to her society. The reason of this estrangement was, that the king had renewed his connexion with a number of profligate and \v()rMdcss associates, the companions of his long baehelorhootl in ills fathei*^s lifetime. His conduct at this time scandidized nil liis sid)jeets, as he abandoned himself to habitual inebriety and degrading; vices ; for which various virtuous churchmen reproved hun boldly, to their crecht l)e it spoken. *'The spring of 1195, Richai'd was hunting in one of Ins Norman forests,' when he was met by a hermit, who recognised him, and preached him a very eloquent sennon on his in-egular life, finishing by prophesying tlu't, nnh he repented, his end and I imishment were close at hand. The king answered slightingly, and went his way; but the Easter following he was seized with a most severe illness, which threatened to be fivtiil, when he rcruembered the saying of the hermit-prophet, and, -Teatly alarmed, began to repent of his shis." Richard sent to: all the iu( ilvs within ten miles round, and made public t 'bssion ot uis iniquities, vowing, withal, that if queen IJerengaria ^'ould forgive him, he would send for her, and never forsiu her again. "When he recovered, these good resolutions were '^tv* igthened by an interview he had ^vith an English bisliop. When Richard first parted from the queen, he quaiTelled Tvith the virtuous St. Hugh, bishop of Lincoln, on the old ground of exacting a simoniacal tribute on the installation of the prelate into his see. Willing to evade the direct charge of selling the sec, king Richard intimated that a present of a fur-mantle, worth a thousand marks, might be the composition. St. Hugh siiid he was no judge of such gauds, and therefore sent the king a thousand marks, d^ daring, if he would devour ' TjTrell, from a chronicle by Rigord, Mnitre Ripjord was originally a medical man ; h\ was the contemporary of king Riclua'd and king John. His chronicle is, wo think, among tiiose edited hy Guizot. , , , : ' \ i I li 11 I i > ! I .^1 818 BEUKNGARIA OF NAVARUE. '■ 1 P <' 111 the revenue devoted to the poor, ho must have his Anlful wnv. Ridiard pocketed the money, but some time iifter went for tli .; fur-mimtlo. St. Ilu^h set out for Normandy, to remonstnitc with the king on this doulde extortion. His friends anticipatiKl that lie woidd be killed ; but St. Hugh said, " I fear him not," and boldly entered the chapel where Richard was at mass when the followhig scene took place. " Give me tlie embrace of peace, my son," said St. Hugh. " That you have not deserved," replied Mie king. "Indeed I have," said St. IIui,'h " for I have made a long journey on purpose to see my son." So saying, he took hold of the king's sleeve, and di-ew him on one side. Richard smiled, and embraced the old man. Tiicy withdrew o tho recess behind the altar, and sat down. '• In what state is your conscience?" asked the bishop. "Very easy," answered the king. " How can that be, my son," said the bishop, " when you Hve apart from yom' virtuous (pieen, and are faitldess to her ? when you devour the provision of the poor, and load your people with heavy exactions ? Are these light transgressions, my son?" Tlie king owned his faults, and promised amendment ; and when he related this conversa- tion to his courtiers, he added, — " Were all our prelates like Hugh of Lincoln, both king and barons must submit to theu* righteous rebukes !"' Whether the interview with St. Hugh took place before or after the king's alarming iUness, we have no data to declare ; but as Richard was evidently in a tamer state when St. Hugh visited liim than when he laAvlessly demanded the fur-mantle, we think the good bishop must have arrived opportunely, just as Richju-d was begimuiig to forget his sick-bed vows, without quite relapsing into his original recklessness. The final restoration of Berengaria to the affections of her royal husband took place a few months after, when Richard proceeded to Poietiers," where he was reconciled to his queeu, and kept Christmas and the new year of 1196 in that city, with princely state and hospitality. It was a year of great scarcity and famine, and the beneficent queen exerted her restored mfluence over the heart of the king, by persuading * Berrington. ' ' Rigord, French Chroii. BEBENOAIilA OF NAVARUE. 819 liim to give all liis supcrfluuus money in bountiful alms to the poor, and through her goodness many were kept from perish- ing. From that time queen IJerengaria and king Richard wero never parted. She found it best to accompany him in all his C!un|)iugU8, and we find her with him at the hour of Ids death. Ilij^den, in the Polychronicon, gives tliis testimony to the love that IJerengaria bore to Richard : " The king took home to him his queen Berengaria, whose society he had for a long time ncglcc^ted, though she were a royal, elocjuent, and beau- teous lady, and for liis love had ventured with hira tlirough the world." The same year the king, despairing of heirs by his consort, sent for young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, that the boy might be educated at his court as futm-e king of England. His mother Coi -jtance, out of enmity to queen Eleanora, imwisely refused tliis request, and she finished her folly by declaring for the king of France, then waging a fierce war against Richard. This step cost her hapless child his inheritance, and finally liis life. From this time Richard acknowledged his brother John as his heir. The remaining three years of Richard's life were spent in petty provincial wars with the king of France. In one of his treaties the princess Alice was at last surrendered to her brother, who gave her, with a tarnished reputation and the dowry of the county of Ponthieu, in mar- riage to the count of Auraerle, when she had arrived at her thirty-fifth year. After the reconciliation between Richard and Berengaria, tlie royal revenues arising from the tin-mines in Cornwall' and Devon, valued at two thousand marks per annum, were confirmed to the queen for her dower. Her continental dower was the whole county of Bigorre, and the city of Mans. It was the lively imagination of Richard, heated by the splendid fictions of Arabian romance, that hurried him to his end. A report was brought to him that a peasant, ploughing in the fields of Vidomar, lord of Chaluz, in Aquitaine, had struck upon a trap-door, which concealed an enchanted treasure;^ ' Rymer's Focdera. ^ Bromptou. Newbury. Heminingford. Wikcs. I •m !1 !l ■";l 820 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. !i] going down into a cave, he discovered several golden statues with vases full of diamonds, all of which had been secured in the castle of Chaluz, for the private use of the sieur de Yidoniar. Richard, when he heard this fine tale, sent to Vidomar demanding, as sovereign of the country, his share of the golden statues. The poor castellan declared that no such treasure had been found ; nothing but a pot of Roman cohis had been discovered, and these he was welcome to have. As Richard had set his mind upon golden statues and vases of diaraouds and had thriven so well when he demanded the golden fur- niture from king Tancred, it was not probable he coidd lower his ideas to the reality stated by the unfortimate lord of Yidomai'. Accordingly, he marched to besiege the castle of Chaluz, sending word to Vidomar, either to dehver the statues, 6r abide the storming jf the castle. To tliis siege queen Berengaria certaiidy accompanied the king. Here Richard met his death, being pierced from the walls by an arrow from an arbalista, or cross-bow, aimed by the hand of Bertrjuid de Gordon.^ It was the unskilfulness of the surgeon^, who mangled the king's shotdder in cutting out the arrow, joined to Richard's own wilfulness in neglecting the regimen of hio physicians, that caused the mortification of a trifling wound and occasioned the death of a hero, who, to many faidts, joined a redeeming generosity that showed itself in his last moments. After enduring gi'eat agony from his wound, as he drew near to death the castle of Chaluz was taken. He caused Bertrand de Gordon to be brought before him, and telling liira he was dying, asked him whether he had dis- charged the fatial an'ow with the intention of slaying him. " Yes, tyrant," rejjlied Gordon ; " for to you I owe the deaths of my father and my brother, and my first wish was to he revenged on you." Notwithstanding the boldness of tliis avowal, the dying king commanded Gordon to be set at liberty, and it Avas not his fault that his detestjible merccnaiy general, tlu; Fleming !Marcade, caused him to be put to a cruel death. Richard's death took place April 6th, 1199. His queen * We find tlie nau)e of Gordon among the sirventes of Bertrand do Born. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 321 unquestionably was with him when he died.* She corro- borated the testimony that he left his dominions, and two- thirds of his treasiires, to his brother John. Richard appears to have borne some personal resemblance to his great uncle, William Rufus. Like him, his hair and complexion were warm in colour, and his eyes blue, and fiercely sparkling. Like Rufus, his strength was prodigious, but he had the advantage of a tall majestic figure.'' Tliere are some points of resemblance in character between Richard and his coDa- teral ancestor, though Richard must be considered a more learned and elegant prince, and susceptibly, withal, of more frequent impulses of generosity and penitence. They both seemed to have excelled in the same species of wit and hvely repartee. At the time of king Richard's death, Matthew Paris declares queen Eleanora, his mother, was governing England, " where," adds that historian, " she was exceedingly respected and beloved." Before the body of Coeur de Lion was committed to the grave, an additional load of anguish assailed the heart of his royal widow, through the calamities that befell Joanna, her friend, and Richard's favourite sister. The same species of persecution that afterwards visited Joanna's sou, in the well- knoAvn war against the Albigeuses, had already been incited against his father. Owing to the secret agitations of the Catholic clergy, the barons of Thoulouse were in arms against theii' sovereign count Raymond, Queen Joanna, though in a state Uttle consistent with such exertions, flew to arms for the relief of her adored lord."* We translate the following mournful passage from Guillaume de Puy-Laurens :- -"" " Queen Joanna was a woman of great courage, and was liighly sensitive to the injuries of her husband. She laid siege to the castle of Casser, but, owing to the treachery of * See Hemmingford. ^ Vinisauf. ' Unfortunately, M. Miehelet has given good liistorical proof, not only that queen Joanna was tiic fourth wife of count Raymond, but that all liis other countesses were at that time iilivc. The low scale of morality on which Miehelet places the potentates of the south of France, need not be attributed to any of his prejudices against royalty, because he does iKjtter justice to the sovereigns of France at this nra, than any other mrdern French historian for two centuries * Guizot's Chronicles, vol. xv. p. 219. VOL. (. y f ■ii i ! I • 'VJ ,m ^ ! i *■ Al ) :| S;' p/-\ 11 I,: Vi 322 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. her attendants, her camp was fired : she escaped with difl&culty from the burning tents, niuch scorched and hurt. Unsub- dued by this accident, she hastened to lay her wrongs before her beloved brother, king Richard. She found he had just expired as she arrived. The pains of premature child-bijth seized her as she heard the dire intelligence, and she sank under the double affliction of mental and corporeal agony. With her last breath she begged to be laid near her brother Richard." To Berengaria the request was made, and the cold remains of the royal brother and sister, the dearest objects of the sorrowing queen's affections, were laid, by her pious care, side by side, in the stately abbey of Fontevraud.' The heart of Richard was bequeathed by him to be buried in the cathedral of Rouen, where it has latety been exhumed, in 1842. AVhen the case was unclosed, the lion-heart was found entire, but withered to the consistency of a faded leaf,- The deaths of Richard and Joanna were immediately suc- ceeded by that of Berengaria's only sister, Blanche. This princess had been given in marriage by Coeur de Lion to his nephew and friend, the troubadour-prince Thibaut of Cham- pagne. The princess Blanche died the day after the birtli of a son, who afterwards was the heir both of Sauclio and Beren- garia, and finally king of Navarre. Thus, in the course of a few short weeks, was the queen of England bereft of all that were near and dear to her. The world had become a desert to Berengaria before she left it for a life of conventual seclusion, Queen Berengaria fixed her residence at Mans, where she held a great part of her foreign dower. Here she founded the noble abbey of Espan. Once Berengaria left her wi- dowed retirement, when she met her brother-in-law king John, and his fair young bride, at Chinon, her husband's treasiu'c-cit}'. Here she compounded with the Enghsh ' The description of Richard's statue hiis Iweii given by Miss L. S. CostoUo in lier charminf the pope's secretary. As pope Innocent threatens John with an interdict, it is pretty certain that the wrongs of Be- rengaria formed a clause in the subsequent excommunication of the felon king. Bale, in his coarse comedy of King Jehan, (of M'hichking John is the very shabby hero,) bestows a hberal portion of revihng on Berengaria, because she was the cause of the papal interdict m that reign ; but this abuse is levelled at her under the name of queen Juliana. What connexion there was between the queen of Coeur de Lion and the name of Jiihana, is difficult to ascertain, excepting that the cathedral of her city of Mans is dedicated to St. Julian ; and when she rctLed from the Avorld, she might have renounced her mun- dane appellation, and become the name-daughter of the patron saint of her city. However, Bale, who was an historical anti- quary, is certainly correct in the cause of the interdict, which arose from the non-payment of Berengaria^s dower. By the theological speeches he puts into the mouth of king John, he ' Eynier's Foedcra, vol. i. p. 152. These ])assport8, or safe-conducts, occur very frcqueutly iii this collection, for the benefit of persons who never used tlicni. H 1 •■■ " i'. : 1 .'n.'' 1 i !|H' 324 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. ■'t I seems aware of his studies of Arian, and of the Mahometan tendencies of the princes and nobles of the south of France.' In 1214, when the excommunication was taken off, there exists a letter from John to " his dear sister, the illustrious Berengaria, praying that the pope's niuicio might arbitrate what was due to her." The next year brings a piteous letter from John, praying that his dearly beloved sister wiU excuse his delay of pajrment, seeing the " greatness of his adversity by reaison of the wickedness of his magnates and barons" who had invited prince Louis of France to spoil her estates • " but when," says king John, " these clouds that have overcast our serenity shall disperse, and our kingdom be full of joyful tranquillity, then the pecmiiary debt owed' to our dear sister shall be paid joyfully and thankfully." This precious epistle was penned July 8th, 1216, by John ; but he died the sue- ceeding October, and Berengaria's debt was added to the vast sum of his other trespasses, for "joyful tranquillity" never came for him, nor of course her time of payment. King John being deprived oi the duchy of Normandv, Berengaria was forced to petition Philip Augustus, king of France, concerning her rights of dower there : as the widow of his late feudatory, she was given the county of Maine in compensation. A singular circumstance proves that Beren- garia exercised sovereignty over this province. In the year 1216 she presided in person, as countess of Maine, August 23, being the eve of St. Bartholomew, as judge of a duel which took place between two champions ; one defending the honoiu- of a demoiselle, the other, who was the brother of the poor girl, having assailed her reputation in order to claim hor por- tion.■^ The result of this interesting appeal of battle we are unable to relate. In the reign of Henry III. Berengaria had again to requiie the pope's assistance for the payment of her annuity. Her arrears at that time amounted to 4,040/. sterling ; but the Templars became guarantees and agents for her payments, ' Michelet, in lii.s Hist, of Franco, hns given the most luminous information relative to the cause of tlie ci. U wars which rag(!d there for more than a century. ^ L'Art (le Verifier les Dates, tome xiii. p. lU2 ; from Courvoissier. BERENGARIA OP NAVARRE. 335 and from that time the pecuniary troubles of Berengaria cease to form a feature in our national records. The letters of Berengaria, claiming her arrears of dower from Henry III., are probably from her own pen, as they are in a very different style from those of her ecclesiastical scribe, previously quoted. Contrary to the assumption of royally perpetually insisted on by her arrogant sister-in-law Isabella, the dowager of John, Berengaria speaks of her exaltation as a matter passed by, and terms herself " the humble queen of England." Addressing herself to the bishop, Peter de Roche, chancellor during Hemy III.'s minority, Berengaria says,^ — " To our venerable father in Christ, and most cordial friend, Peter, by God's grace bishop of Winchester, Berengaria, by the same grace formerly the humble queen of England, w'shes health and every good thing. " We send to you our well-beloved friar Walter, of the Cistercian order, the bearer of these presents, beseeching you humbly and devotedly, with all the humility that we can, that in reference to this present feast of All Saints, (as well as to other terms now past,) you will cause us to be satisfied about the money due to ns according to the composition of our dower, which by your mediation we made with our brother John, of happy memory, formerly king of England. Fare you well !" The English regency had the jointures of two queen- dowagers to pay, and certainly too much ti'ouble was not taken to satisfy either. Again friar Walter was despatched, in 1225, to receive the dues of his royal mistress, and was the bearer of another epistle, this time addressed to the young king from his aunt : — " To her lord and dearest nephew, by God's grace the illustrious king of England, lord of Ireland, duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, and earl of Anjou, Berengaria, V the same grace formerly the humble queen of England, wishes health and pi'osj)erous success to his utmost desires. " We requested you by our letters-patent sent to you by friar Walter, de persona, oiu* chaplain of the Cistercian order, that you would send to us by the said fiaar Walter and master Simon, our clerks, 1000 marks sterluig, which you owe us at this feast of All Saints,' according to the composition of om* dowry solemnly drawn out between us and you. But since the said master Simon, k'ing detained by sickness, cannot come over to you, we send in his stead o\vc servant Martin, the bearer of these pre'souts, earnestly requesting you to send us the thousand marks by the said friar Walter and t_y this Martin, or by one of them, if by any chance impediment both of them amnot come to you. In testimony of which we send you our present letters-patent. " Given at Mans, the Sunday next before the fea«t of the apastles Simon and Jude, in the mouth of October, in the year of o\a Lord 1225."'" ' All Saints'-day is the 1st of November, which it would have been before a letter dated at ilaus, Oc^^ober 25, could reach tngland. - Close Rolls. ! A ■i u I :.H:i i:i '■ Vf I \ I 1 i^ ' 326 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. Henry III. ordered his treasurer and chamberlains to deliver from his treasury to friar Waiter, chaplain to queen Beren- garia, and to Martin her servant, one thousand marks, which he owed to her at the term of the Ascension of our Lord.' The date of Berengaria's death has generally been fixed about the year 1230 ; but that was only the year of the com- pletion of her abbey of Espan, and of her final retirement from the world; as from that time she took up her abode within its walls, and finished there her blameless life, at an advanced age, some years afterwards. In the High-street of Mans is an antique and curious structure, embellished witli bas-reliefs : the people of the city call it, to this day, queen Berengari.a*s house or palace. The name is older than tlie building itself, which is of the architecture of the fifteenth century. Berengaria's dower-palace assuredly stood on the site of this house. "Berengaria was interred in her own stately abbey. The following most interesting particulars of her m ■ '■■ * ■ :- ; i si il ?■• "M ^'•' r ISABELLA OF ANGOULl^ME, QUEEN-CONSORT OP KING JOHN. li' Isabella the betrothed of Hugh de Lusiguan — Parents — Inheritance — Isabella abducted by king John — Marriage to king John — Challenge of count Hugh- Queen's arrival in EngLind — Itecoguition — Coronation — Amval at Rouen— Luxury — Conclusion of Eleanora of Aquitaine's biography — Besieged — Relieved by king John — He captures count Hugh — Death of Eleanora — Effigy — Clia. racter — Queen Isabella's dower — Her return to England — Her lover, count Hugh, liberated — IsalHlla's son bom — Her pages — Herd of white cows- King John's cruelty — His jealousy — Her children — Inheritance — Marriage of count Hugh to Isabella's little daughter — Royal dress — Murder of Matilda the Fair — John's atrocities — Meets the queen at Mai'lborough — She retires to Gloucester with her children — John's death — Queen's proceedings — Coronation ot her son — She leaves England — Marries count Hugh — Deprived of her jointure — Detains the princess Joanna — Queen's dower restored — Her pride- Embroils her husband in war — Attempts the life of St. Louis — Humiliation of Isabella — Hated by the Poictevins — Called Jezebel — Retires to Fontevraud— Takes the veil — Dies — Tomb — EflBgy — Children of second marriage. No one would have imagined that Isabella of Angouleme was destined to become the future queen of England when king John ascended the throne, for she was then not only tlie engaged wife of another, but, according to the eustoia of the times, had been actually consigned to her betrothed for the purpose of education. Hugh de Lusignari, sumaraed Le Brun,' was the affianced ' " Hvigh," says G. de Nangw, " whom the pfcojtlc of the little town of Limoges would call 'the Brown,' was a noble persona;'', brave, powrful, md possessing great riches." He did not own the sohruj^Mt of Le Bruu, but signs liiiuself Lusignan, in his charters. ..■•►• E, itance — Isabella count Hugh— al at Rouen— ieged — Relieved L— Effigy— Giu- ler lover, count white cows— 36 — Marriage of r of Matilda the -She retires to igs — Coronation )eprived of her — Her pri(l&— Humiliation of o Fontevraud— riiige. couleme was when king ot only tlie stain of the led for the ;he affianced own of Limoges ■u\i possessing it signs himself v! m 5RH 1 i::t, ! -3^H &:* p ^ 'm f', f i ,% ] >|'; i '' ■!■ 1 ' ^'i ^M loBcloii , Henr J Collnirn . 1361 ■ i*." ISABELLA OF ANGOUI.i^ME. 329 ue ^l tJie I OVifS, her Irr ji Isabella. He wjw eldest son of Hugh TX., the reign- ing count ■ \ > : :i« ■I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // J z ^o 1.0 I.I m 12.5 ■30 u, Uii 12.2 2? Ui ■■ ■Ao 12.0 I rWII 1-25 1 1.4 1 1.6 = llll^^ lllll^^ ^ 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STRUT WIBSTH.N.Y. M5S0 (716) •73-45C3 ■^ 330 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. KM },' «•( ,-;t, [j I hi ;! p; !,fr < » at- I *' is dated Fontevraud, 1200, and was the occasion of king John's progress to Aquitaine, in the summer; but Uttle did the writer suppose that, before the year was expired, the whole powerful family of Lusignan would be exasperated by king John's lawless appropriation of the bride wedded to the heir of their house.' Isabella was the only child and heiress of Aymer, or Americus, count of AngoulSme, sumamed Taillefer. By maternal descent she shared the blood of the Capetian sove. reigns, her mother, AHce de Courtenay, being the daughter of Peter de Courtenay, fifth son of Louis VI. king of France. The inheritance of Isabella was the beautiful province of Angoumois, situated in the very heart of the Aquitanian domains, with Perigord on the south, Poitou on the north, Saintonge on the west, and La Limousin on the east. The Angoumois, watered by the clear and sparkling Charente, abounded in all the richest aliments of life j altogether, it was fair and desirable as its heiress. The Proven9al language was at that era spoken throughout the district ; Isabella of Angouleme inay therefore be reckoned the third of our Proven9al queens. The province to which she was heiress had been governed by her ancestors ever since the reign of Charles the Bald. Isabella, being betrothed to Hugh de Lusignan, eldest son of the count de la Marche, had been consigned to the care of her husband's family, according to the feudal custom. At the period of king John's arrival, she was residing in the castle of Lusignan, under the guardianship of the count of Eu, the unde of her spouse. The young lady was nearly fifteen; her marriage was to take place on the return of her bridegroom &om. some distant feudal service connected with the accession of John as duke of Aquitaine, Meantime, the count of Eu received the Enghsh king most hospitably: the chief entertain- ment was hunting in the chases pertaining to the demesne of Lusignan, which were then the most celebrated for deer in. ' Hugh IX., the friend and fellow-crusader of king^ Richard, was alive long after his son's betrothment to Isabella.^ The hereft lover of Isabella suca . ded his father by the title of Hugh X. There were thirteen counts of this house, successively, of the name of Hugh ; a fact which makes their identity difficult without close investigation. m^m. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 331 France. At one of these hunting parties it is supposed that king John first saw the beautifol fiancee of the absent Lu- signan : tradition says/ " that meeting her in the glades of the chase, he carried her oflp, screaming with terror, to the strong- hold of his sovereignty, Bourdeaux." In reality, the abduction was made by coUusion of the parents of the bride : they sent to the count of Eu, requesting his permission that she might visit them for the purpose of being present at a day of high ceremonial, on which they paid their homage to king John for the province of Angoimiois." Indeed, it may be considered certain that the young lady herself, as their sole heir, was required to acknowledge her lord-paramount as duke of Aquitaine. The count of Eu smTendered the fair heiress, at the request of her father j he has been accused of betilaying the interests of his nephew, but wholly without foundation. The parents of Isabella, when they perceived that their sovereign was captivated with the budding charms of their daughter, dishonourably encoiu'aged his passion, and by deceitftd excuses to the count of Eu, prevented the return of Isabella to the castle of Lusignan; a proceeding the more infamous, since subsequent events plainly showed that the heart of the maiden secretly preferred her betrothed. Had John Plantagenet remained in the same state of poverty as when his father sumamed him Lackland, the fierce Hugh de Lusignan might have retained his beautiful bride; but at the time his fancy was captivated by Isabella, her parents saw him universally recognised as the possessor of the first empire in Europe. They had just done homage to him as the monarch of the south of France, and they knew the English people had acknowledged him as king, in preference to his nephew Arthur; that he had been actually crowned king of England, and that his brow had been circled with the chaplet of golden roses which formed the ducal coronet of Normandy. John was already married to a lady, who had neither been crowned with him, nor acknowledged queen of England; yet she appears to have been the bride of his fickle choice. The » Vatout, History of Chateau d'Eu. * William le Breton. — Guizot's French Collection. Dr. Henry asserts the same, and gives Hoveden and M. Paris as authorities. V< 11 r 1 1 ^ in !• 1! ' I T Jl ■ B 1 1 1 I ]' 'I J i it- J- / \;i 332 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^RIE. son of his great uncle, Robert earl of Gloucester/ had left three daughters, co-heiresses of his vast possessions. The youth and beauty of Avisa, the youngest of the sisters, in, duced prince John to woo her as his wife. The wedduig took place at Kichard's coronation, but the church forbade the pair to live together.' The pope, who had previously commanded the divorce of Avisa from John, because the empress Matilda and Robert earl of Gloucester had been half brother and sister now murmured at the broken contract between Isabella and the heir of Lusignan; but as this betrothiuent does not seem to have been accompanied by any vow or promise on the part of the bride, his opposition was vain. The lady Isabella, as much dazzled as her parents by tlie splendour of the triple crowns of England, Normandy, and Aquitaine, would not acknowledge that she had consented to any marriage-contract with count Hugh. As Isabella pre- ferred being a queen to giving her hand to the man she really loved, no one could right the wrongs of the iU-treated Lusignan. Moreover, the mysterious chain of feudality interwove its m- extricable links and meshes, even round the sacrament of marriage. King John, as lord-paramoimt of Aquitaine, could have rendered invahd any wedlock that the heiress of tlie Angoiuuois might contract without his consent; he could have forbidden his fair vassaless to marry the subject of king Pliilip, and if she had remained firmly true to her first , he could have declared her fief forfeited for disobedience ... ner imme- diate lord.' King John and Isabella were married at Bourdeaux, August 24th, 1200. Their hands were imited by the arch- bishop of Bourdeaux, who had previously held a synod, assisted by the bishop of Poitou, and solenmly declared that no im- pediment existed to the marriage. There was, however, a considerable disparity of age : John was thirty-two, while Isabella had scarcely seen fifteen years. The abduction of his bride threw coimt Hugh of Lusignan into despair: he did not, however, quietly submit to the > Tyrrell. • It must be noticed, that the church forbade the wedlock of cousins of illegi- timate deiicent as strictly as those by marriage. •■' See Bracton, " By the feudal law, any woman who is an heir forfeits her lands if she marries without her lord's consent." mfW' ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 333 destruction of his hopes^ but challenged to mortal combat the royal interloper between him and his betrothed.' John received the cartel with remarkable coolness, saying, that if count Hugh wished for combat, he would appoint a champion to fight with him ; but the count declared that Tohn's cham- pions were hired bravoes and vile mercenaries, unfit for the encounter of a wronged lover and true knight. Thus xmable to obtain satisfaction, the valiant marcher waited his hour of revenge, while king John sailed with his bride in triumph to England. He kept his Christmas with her, 1301, at Guildford, "where," says Roger of Wendover, "he distributed a great number of festive garments." He was desirous that Isabella should be recognised as his wife, not only by the peers, but by the people; therefore he called "a common council of the kingdom " at Westminster. The ancient wittena-gemot seems the model of this assembly. Here the young Isabella was introduced, and acknowledged as the queen-consort of England. Her coronation was appointed for the 8th of October, and there exists a charter in the Tower, expressing " that Isabella of Angoul^me was crowned queen by the common consent of the barons, clergy, and people of England."^ Her coronation took place on that day by the archbishop of Canterbury. Clement Fitz-WiUiam was paid thirty-three shillings, for strewing Westminster-hall with herbs and rushes at the coro- nation of lady Isabella the queen; and the chamberlains of the Norman exchequer Mere ordered to pay Eustace the chap- lain and Ambrose the songster twenty-five shillings, for singing the hymn Christus vicit at the unction and crowning of the said lady queen.^ The expenses of her dress at this time were by no means extravagant: three cloaks of fine Knen, one of scarlet cloth, and one gray pehsse, costing together twelve pounds five-and-fourpence, were all that was afforded to the fair Provenyal bride on this august occasion. The whole of the intervening months between October and Easter were spent by the king and queen in a continual round of ^ Yatont, Hist, of Eu. He says that Isabella and John were mai'ried at Angouleme. " Koger Hovcden. ^ Madox. I I 11 i k j,^yk i ! I; '.f ■1 I ■'!'' \ iiH- ' ■ ftAJiH 334 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. feasting and voluptuousness. At the Easter festival of 1210 they ^vore the guests of archbishop Hubert, at Canterbury ' where they were once more crowned/ or rather, they wore their crowns, according to the ancient Enghsh custom at tliis high festival; it being the office of the primate of England always to place them on the heads of the king and queen on such occasions, when he was abiding in the vicinity of royalty. Wars, and rumours of wars, awoke the beautiful Isabella and king John from their dream of pleasure. Constance duchess of Bretagne had eloped frvm her husband, the earl of Chester, and married a valiant Poictevin, sir Guy of Thouars ' who showed every demonstration of successfully asserting the claims of his son-in-law, young Arthur Plantagenet, for whose cause Anjou and Maine had already declared. Added to this alarming intelligence was the news that Lusignan and his brother, the count of Eu, were conspiring with the ^f^mily of Bretagne, and raising insurrections in Poitou and Normandy, to avenge the abduction of Isabella of Angoul^me. These troubles caused Isabella and her husband to embark at Ports- mouth for Normandy. King John sailed in a separate gallev from the queen, and in stress of weather ran for the Isle of Wight, a place of retirement where John often abode for months together. The queen's ship was in the gieatest distress, but at last made the port of Barfleur, where king John found Isabella waiting his arrival. The insurrection, of which the disappointed lover of Isabella was the mover, was somewhat retarded by the death of Constance* duchess of Bretagne, in 1201, soon after the birth of her third child, the princess Alice, who was finally the heiress of the duchy. King John, regardless of the tempest that still muttered aroimd him, estabhshed himself at Rouen, and gave way to a career of indolent voluptuousness, httle in accordance with the restless activity of his warlike nobihty. In that era, when five in the morning was the established breakfast-time, and half-past ten in the forenoon the orthodox > Tyrrell. ' Hovetlen. '"' Argentre, Breton. Hist. The disconsolate widowhood of Constance exists only in the pages of fiction. * Argentre. > ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 835 dinner-hour, for all ranks and conditions of men, the courtiers were scandalized at finding that king John never left his pillow before mid-day, at which time they saw him, with contempt, issuing from the chamber of the fair IsabeUa : " it was as if she held him by sorcery or witchcraft."' This mode of life made him far more unpopular, in the thirteenth century, than the perpetration of a few more murders and abduc- tions, like those with which lus memory stands ah-eady charged. His young queen shared some of this blame, as the enchantress who kept him chained in her bowers of luxury. The royal pair paid, however, some attention to the fine arts, for the magnificent mosaic pavement of the palace of Bouen was laid down while the queen kept her court there.^ Eleanora of Aquitaine, now advancing into her eightieth year, still acted a queenly part on the arena of Europe. After resigning her vice-regency of England' into the hands of king John, she had assumed the sceptre of her native dominions, and was then governing Aquitaine, residing with a peace esta- blishment, in perfect security, at her summer castle of Mirabel, m. Poitou, when coun^ Hugh de Lusignan, joining his forces with those of young;/ Arthur of Bretagne, suddenly laid siege to the residence of the aged queen. This was a plan of count Hugh's de\i8ing, who meant, if Eleanora had been captured, to have exchanged her for his lost spouse. But Eleanora, after they had stormed the town, betook herself to the citadel of Mirabel, from whose lofty heights she scoffed at their efforts : she sent to her son for speedy aid, and, with a shght garrison and scanty provisions, held out heroically till his arrival. Once, and once only, did the recreant John prove himself of " the right stem of great Plantagenet." When he heard of his mother's danger, he ti-aversed France with hght- ning speed, and arriving unexpectedly before Mirabel, his forces henuned in count Hugh and duke Arthur between the town and citadel. The enemies of John had reckoned on his character as a sluggard and fainiant knight, but they reckoned * Wendover, vol. ii. p. 207. M. Paris. ' Ducarel. ' She Vould not recognise Ai-thur as the rightful heir, for fear Confltance should govern England during his minority. If Y' w Hi; h' II 1 1 i 'h:: I 1 t . I i! !| I ii :\ » »■- ■■^. ■1 I? M 836 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. I ' •hi!- ' in vain ; he gave them fierce battle on his arrival, and over- threw them with an utter defeat, taking prisoners his rival in love, comit Hugh, and his rival in empire, duke Arthui- together with four-and-twenty of the principal barous of Poitou, who had risen for the right of young Arthm-, or were aUies of the count. Ralph of Coggeshall and Matthew Paris declare that queen Eleanora charged her son, on her maledic- tion, not to harm the noble boy whom he had made his prisoner. While the queen-mother retained her faculties, John contented himself with incarcerating Arthur in the citadel of Falaise ■ but he insulted count Hugh, the unfortunate lover of his queen, with every species of personal indignity, carrying hiru and the insiu-gent barons of Poitou after him, wherever he went, "chained hand and foot, in tumbril carts drawn by oxen," — " a mode of travelling," says a Proven9al chronicler very pathetically, " to which they were not accustomed." In this manner he dragged them after lum, till he made them embark with him for England.' Queen Isabella must have exerted her utmost influence to save the unfortunate Lusignan from the fate of his fellow-prisoners, for two-and-twenty Poictevin lords, who had been exhibited with coimt Hugh in the carts, were starved to death in the dungeons of Corfe- castle, by the orders of king John.^ The lover of Isabella, positively refusing any submission to the abductor of his bride, was consigned to a weary confinement in the donjon of Bristol-castle, at the same time with John's other hapless prisoner, Eleanora, sumamed the Pearl of Brittany/^ the sister of Arthur. Isabella of AngoulSme had not borne an heir to John when Arthur was cut off in 1202; therefore, after John had destroyed this promising scion of Plantagenet, the sole representative of ' Matthew Paris det^Is this incident nearly in similar words. ' Hoveden and Dr. Henry. • There is reason to suppose that this unfortunate lady, on whom the lineal riglit of the English crown devolved, took the vows after a long imprisonment. From a bundle of charters belonging to the abbey of Fontevraud, examined by sir lliomas Phlllipps, hart., it is evident that Eleanora of Bretagne was appointed, by tlie abbess of Fontevraud, superior of the nunnery of Ambresbury. All known hitherto of the sister of Arthur was, that she died in 1235, and was buried at Ambresbury. ISABELLA OP ANGOUL^ME. 8d7 that heroic line was his dishonoured self.' The decision of the twelve peers of France, convened to inquire into the fate of Arthur, declared Normandy forfeited by king John in 1203. The demise of queen Eleanora, his mother, took place the year after : she lived to mourn over the dismemberment of the con- tinental possessions of her family. Paulus Emihus, in his Life of Philip Augustus, declares that the queen-mother interceded strenuously for Arthur, and died of sorrow when she found the depths of guilt into which John had plunged. The annals of the monks of Fontevraud testify that queen Eleanora took the veil of their order in the year 1202, and that she died in the year 1204, having been for many months wholly dead to the world. Her last charter was given to the men of Oleron,' soon after the demise of her son, Richard I.; in which document she confirmed the privileges of this great maritime guild or fraternity. Adversity evidently improved the character of Eleanora of Aquitaine ; and after the violent passions of her youth had been corrected by sorrow and ex- perience, her life exhibits many traces of a great ruler and magnanimous sovereign. A good moral education would have rendered Eleanora of Aquitaine one of the greatest characters 1 It is in an allusion to this fact that Le Breton, in his beautifdl description of Arthur's death, (which, with other rich though irrelevant matter, we are forced to exclude,) makes Arthur exclaim, when pleading passionately for his life, " Ah, my uncle, spare the son of thy brother ! spare thy young nephew, — spare thy race!" 2 Eleanora of Aquitaine, at that era the greatest naval potentate in the world, is seen in this charter to exercise full sovereignty over these merchant islander . "To the beloved and faithful marines of Oleron," says Eleanora, "we confirm the former grants of that venerable and illustrious man, our lord Henry king of England, with whom we contracted our matrimony, on condition that the iHknders of Oleron keep faith Mrith our heirs." She i^iames not king Jolm as such; but this charter is followed by another from him, " confirming, for the Aiture, all that our dearest and most venerable mother has granted during her life." Nor is this forgotten charter without a deep and vital interest to our country, for the distant isle of Oleron was the source of our maritime laws, and the cradle of our infant commerce.-Foedera, vol. i. To one of her charters, preserved in the Fontevraud collection in the Bibliotheqne Boyale, examined by sir T. Fhillipps, is appended the seal of Eleanora, representuig her figure at full length, standing with a fleur-de-lis in her right hand ; she holds in the left a globe, symbol of sovereignty, on which is a bird standing on a cross. The chai-ter itself is a great curiosity, granting certmu lands, annual value 40«., to Adam Cook and Joan his wife, on condition of their paying her every year one pomid of cinnamon. Adam was possibly her cook. VOL. I. Z V h 1:1 "J » ' ■ J ' ':) 1 t' , n\' ■ f i . ! ■i \ ' :| \''^ i ' ;. -, , 1 ' .1 . ■ ■ 11 : J. i ill: S38 ISABELLA OP ANGOULtWE. Si^ 1 ' I lU i rJ of her time. She had been reared in her sunny fatherland as the gay votaress of pleasure; her intellectual cultivation had been considerable, but its sole end was to enhance the delights of a voluptuous life, by calling into activity all the powers of a poetic mind. Slowly and surely she learned the stem lesson of life, — that power, beauty, and royalty are but vanity, if not linked with moral excellence. She was buried by the side of Henry II. at Fontevraud, where her tomb was to be seen, with its enamelled statue, till the French revolution.' The face of this efiBgy is beautifully worked with strokes of the pencil; the features are noble and intellectual. Eleanora wears the gorget wimple, and coverchef ; over this head-gear is a regal diadem: the royal mantle is folded gracefully round her waist ; it is of garter blue, figured with silver crescents. A book was once held in the hands, but both hands and book are now broken away;' nevertheless, in our portrait, they have been restored. With his mother, king John lost all fear and shame. Dis. tinct as his character stands on a bad eminence, the reader of general history knows httle of the atrocity of this man, whose wickedness was of the active and impetuous quality some. times seen in the natives of the south of Europe, combined with the most prominent defects of the Enghsh disposition. He exhibits the traits of the depraved Proven9al, whose civi. lization had at that era degenerated to corruption, joined to the brutality of his worst Enghsh subjects, then in a semi- barbarous state. Isabella's influence did not mend his man. ners : he became notoriously worse after his union with her. Ignorance could not be pleaded as an excuse for John's enor- mities ; like all the sons of Eleanora of Aquitaine, he had literary tastes. Some items in his Close rolls prove the fact, that king John read books of a high character. His mandate to Reginald de Comhill requires him to send to "Windsor the Romance of the History of England.' The abbot of Reading > Her beautiftil statue is still preserved, thanks to the research and zeal of our lamented antiquary Stothard. 3 Montfauoon's engraving gives the hands and hook. This Benedictine ant!« qnary, who wrote in the time of Louis XIIL, more than two centuries nearer the erection of the monument, had it drawn hefore it was defaced. 3 April 29, 1205. See Excerpta Historica, p. 393. The word 'romance' means that, like Geofirey of Monmouth, and all popular histories, the compositioD waA in metre. ISABELLA OF ANQOUL^ME. 839 supplied his sovereign with the Old Testament, Hugh St. Victor on the Sacraments, the Sentences of Petre Lombard, the Kpistles of St. Austin, Origen's Treatise, and Arian. The abbot Ukewisc acknowledges that he has a book belonging to the king called * Pliny." In short, the abbot of Reading was evidently librarian to king John. After the dower-lands of tlie EngUsh queens had been left free by the death of the queen-mother and the composition of Berengaria, king John endowed his wife most richly ^nth many towns in the west of England, besides Exeter and the tin-mines of Cornwall and Devonsliire. The jointure-palace of the heiress of Angoul^me was that ancient residence of the (yOU(iueror, the castle of Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire, Exeter and Rockingham castles pertained to her dower. Uuecn Isabella, during the king's absence, brought him an heir at Winchester, who received the name of Heniy. After his return to England, king John began utterly to disregard all the ancient laws of his kingdom ; and when the barons murmured, he required firom them the surrender of their children as hostages. In the Tower rolls exist documents, proving that those young nobles were appointed to wait on his queen'^ at Windsor and Winchester, where they attended her in bands, serving her at meals, and following her at cavalcades and processions. The tragedy of the unfortunate family of De Braose was occasioned by the resistance of the parents to these ordinances, in 1211. King John had demanded the eldest son of WiUiam de Braose, lord of Bramber, in Sussex^ as a page to wait on queen Isabella, meaning him in reality as a hostage for his father's allegiance. When the king's message was dehvered at Bramber by a courtier, who bore the ominous name of Mauluc,' the imprudent lady de Braose declared, in his hearing, '* that she would not surrender her children to a ^ Exoerpta Historica, p. 899. ' Two of these lioetoge children, Eliziibeth heiress of sir Ralph d'Eyncourt of Sizergh-oistle, in Westmoreland, and Walter the heir of rir Thomas Strickland, of Strickland, formed an attachment for each other at the court of IsaheUa, and afterwivrds married. ' Peter de Maulnc was sud to he the assistant of John in the mnrdcr of Arthur; hence the taunt of the lady de Braoee.-Speed. She was a Norman borouetM hy birth ; her name, Matilda St.yallery. z2 ii 1. • u 1 m ifii !! t 1 . . • 1^ '1 1 : _^ 840 ISABELLA OF ANOOUL^ME. :*5f king who had murdered his own nephew." The words of the unfortunate mother were duly reported by the malicious mcs. senger. The lady de Braose repented of her ninhness when it was too late, and strove in vain to propitiate queen iHahella by rich gifts. Among other offerings, she sent the qucon a present of a herd of four hundred cows and one beautiful bull: this peerless herd was white as m Ik, all but the ears, which were red. This strange present to Isabella did not avert the deadly wrath of king John, for he seized the unfortunate family at Meath in Ireland, whither they had fled for sufuty, The lord of Bramber, his wife and children, were conveyed to the old castle at Windsor and enclosed in a strong room, where they were deliberately starved to death. Father, mother, and five innocent little ones suffered, in our England, the fate of count Ugolino and his family, — an atrocity, compared with which the dark stain of Arthur's murder fades to the hue of a venial crime. The passion of John for his queen, though it was sufficiently strong to embroil him in war, was not exclusive enough to secure conjugal fidehty; the king tormented her with jealousy, while on his part he was far from setting her a good example, for he often invaded the honour of the female nobility. The name of the lover of Isabella has never been ascertained, nor is it clear that she was ever guilty of any derehction from rectitude ; but John revenged the wrong, that perhaps only existed in his malignant imagination, in a manner j)eculiar to himself. He made his mercenaries assassinate the person whom he suspected of supplanting him in his queen's affec- tions, with two others supposed to be accomplices, and secretly hung their bodies over the bed of Isabella,' an event which is evidently alluded to in the narrative given by Matthew Paris, concerning the embassy king John sent to the Maho> metan sovereign of Spain, called the Miramolin, offering to ally himself vrith him, and to renounce the Christian religion. The Moslem chief strongly suspected that the offered allijince was of no great value ; he therefore cross-questioned one of the envoys, * Robert the clerk,' a small, dark, deformed man, ' Lingard. m vords of the liciouB mcs. ihuess when eeii Isabella the queiMi a »utiful bull: ears, which lot avert the unfortunate id for safety, conveyed to ; room, where , mother, and A, the fate of impared with ;o the hue of as Buificiently ive enough to with jealousy, ;ood example, obility. The certained, nor reliction from perhaps only er i)eculiar to e the person queen's afl'ec- ., and secretly I event which by Matthew to the Maho- 11, offering to stian religion. ered allismce tioned one of leformed man, I8ABETXA OF ANGOULfeXTE. 3 a with a Jewish physiognomy, — indeed, Matthew Pims insiiuuitcs thftt he was a Jew in disguise of a priest. Partly by bribes and partly by threats, the Moslem obtained the following de- scription of king John's person and family uffairs : " The king of England is about fifty years of age ; his hair is quite hoary ; his figure is made for strength, compact but not tall ; Ids queen hates him, and is hated by him, she being an evil-minded, adul- terous woman, often found guilty of crimes, upon which king John seized her paramours, and had them strangled with a rope on her bed.'" "Whatsoever degree of truth may pertain to these accusations, it is certain that about the year 1212 the queen had been consigned to captivity, having been conveyed to Gloucester-abbey under the ward of one of her husband's mercenary leaders. In a record-roll of king John, he directs Theodoric de Tyes " to go to Gloucester with our lady queen, and there keep her in the chamber where the princess Joanna had l)een nursed, till he heard further from him." Joanna was bom in 1210, according to the majority of the chro- niclers. The queen's disgrace was about two years after the birth of her daughter. The queen had brought John a lovely family, but the birth of his children failed to secure her against harsh treatment : she was at this time the mother of two sons, and a daughter. Isabella inherited the province of the Angoumois in the year 1213; it is probable that a reconciliation then took place between the queen and her husband, since her mother, the countess of AngoulSme, came to England, and put herself mider the protection of John. Soon after he went to Angou- leme with IsabeUa. To facilitate the restoration of the Poic- • M. Paris ; passage translated by Dr. Giles, in illuBtration of Roger of Wendover, vol. ii. p. 285. Matthew expressly declares that he wrote what he heard from the lips of Robert the clerk himself, who, in reward for undertaking his anti- Cliristian mission, was forced by his master as a receiver of revenue into the abbey of St. Alban's, where Matthew was a monk, li', as M. Michelet points out, the tendencies of the princes of the south of France were decidedly Mahometan, it was the plmn policy of king John, their sov« reign, to seek the alliance of the chief of the Arabs in Spain. This embassy must have taken place in the last year of John's reign, he being, in 1216, just ftfty, for he waj* Iwrn in the year 1166. Of course, the misconduct of the queen must have occui-red at some previous period. IB. it i^: !l V 1 i f| ; ^ ill '3 ,.6 ji , I m'J I 842 ISABELLA OF ANQOUL^ME. tevin provinces, again seized by Philip Augustus, John found it necessary to form an alliance with his former rival, count Hugh de Lusignan.* Although that nobleman had been restored to liberty by king John for some years, he perversely chose to remain a bachelor, in order to remind all the world of the perfidy of that faithless beauty who had broken her troth for a crown, The only stipulation which could induce him to assist king John was, that he would give him the eldest daughter of Isabella as a wife, in the place of the mother. In compliance with his request, the infant princess Joanna was betrothed to him, and forthwith given into his charge, that she might be educated and brought up in one of his castles, as her mother had been before her. After this alliance, coimt Hugh effectually cleared the Poictevin borders of the French invaders; and king John flushed with his temporary success, returned with his queen to plague England with new acts of tyranny.' \ Although the most extravagant prince in the world in regard to his own personal expenses, John was parsimonious enough toward his beautiful queen. In one of his wardrobe- rolls there is an order for a gray cloth pelisson for Isabella, guarded with fline bars of gray fur. In king John's ward- yobe-roll is a warrant for giving out cloth to make two robes for the queen, each to consist of five ells ; one of green cloth, the other of brunet. The green robe, lined with ceadal or sarcenet, is considered worth sixty shillings. The king like wise orders for his queen, cloth for a pair of purple sandals, and four pair of women's boots, one pair to be embroidered in circles round the ankles. There is, hkewise, an item for the repair of Isabella's mirror.' The dress of John was costly and ghttering in the extreme, for he was, in addition to other foUies and frailties, the greatest fop in Europe. At one of his Christmas festivals he appeared in a red satin mantle embroidered with sapphires and pearls, a tmiic of white damask, a girdle set with garnets and sapphires, while the baldric that crossed from his left shoulder to sustain his sword, was set with diamonds and emeralds, and his white * Matthew Paris. .1 Tl LyU» A&iDtVl lV€»y ^. V 2 Oct, 20, 1214. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 343 gloves were adorned, one with a ruby, and the other with a sapphire.* The richness of king John's dress, and the splen- dour of his jewellery, partly occasioned the extravagant demands he made on the purses of his people, both church and laity ; he r'pplied his wants by a degree of corruption that proves him utterly insensible to every feeling of honour, both as a man and a king, and shamelessly left rolls and records whereby posterity were enabled to read such entries as the following ludicrous specimens of bribery : — " Robert de Vaux gave five of his best palfreys, that the king might hold his tongue about Henry Pinel's wife." What tale of scandal king John had the opportunity of telling, deponent saith not ; but the entry looks marvellously undignified in regal accounts, and shows that shame as well as honour was dead in the heart of John. " To the bishop of Winchester is given one tun of good wine, for not putting the king in mind to give a girdle to the countess of Albemarle." The scartitj'^ of coin and absence of paper-money made bribery remarkably shameless in those days ; palfreys prancing at the levee, and the four hundred milk-white kine of the unfortunate lady de Braose lowing before the windows of Isabella, must have had an odd eflPect.' The queen, soon after her return to England in 1214, was superseded in the fickle heart of her husband by Matilda Fitz- Walter, sumamed the Fair. Tlie abduction of this lady, who, to do her justice, thoroughly abhorred the royal felon, was the exploit which completed the exasperation of the Enghsh barons, who flew to arms for the purpose of avenging the honour of the most distinguished among their class, lord Fitz-Walter, father of the fair victim of John. Every one knows that, clad in steel, they met their monarch John at Runnymede, and there , . . "In happy hour, Made the fell tyrant feel his people's power." The unforbmate Matilda, who had roused the jealousy of the ' Such ornamented gloves are seen on his effigy at Worcester cathedral, and on that of his father at Fontevraud. • It realizes the satire of Pope, applied to the Walpole ministry. The poet, lauding the convenience of bank-notes in such cases, contrasts the clumsy convey- ance of tangible property as bribes, saying, " A hundred oxen at thy levee roar." iv m U V V I*; * ' V, : i ; 1 :ji I i|; :-1r ;la ,. i!, J . P: i 344 ISABELLA OF ANGOUl£mE. queen, and excited the lawless passion of John, was supposed to be murdered by him, in the spring of the year 1215.' After the signature of Magna Charta, king John retired in a rage to his fortress at Windsor, the scene of many of his secret murders. Here he gave way to tempests of personal fury, resembling his father's bursts of passion • he execrated his birth, and seizing sticks and clubs, vented his maniacal feelings by biting and gnawmg them, and then breaking them in pieces. While these emotions were raging mischief matured itself in his soul ; for after passing a sleepless night at Windsor, he departed for the Isle of Wight,^ where he sullenly awaited the arrival of some bands of mercenaries he had sent for from Brabant and Guienne, with whose assist- ance he meant to revenge himself on the barons. In the fair isle John passed whole days, idly saimtering on the beach chatting familiarly with the fishers, and even joining in pira- tical expeditions with them against his own subjects. He was absent some weeks ; every one thought he was lost, and few wished that he might ever be found. He emerged jfrom hie" concealment in good earnest when his mercenary troops arrived, and then he began that atrocious progress across the island, always alluded to by his contemporaries with horror. One trait of his conduct shall serve for a specimen of the rest : the king every morning took delight in firing, with his own hands, the house that had sheltered him the preceding night. In the midst of this diaboUcal career he reconciled himself ' " About the year 1215," saith the book of Dunmow, " there arose a great discord between king John and his barons, because of Matilda, suniained the Fair, daughter of Robert lord Fitz-Walter, wh(Hn the king unlawfully loved, but could not obtain her, nor her father's consent thereto. Whereupon the king baniuhed the said Fitz-Walter, the most valiant knight in England, and caused his castle in London, called Baynard, and all his other dwellings, to be spoiled. Which being done, he sent to Matilda the Fair about his old suit in love, and because she would not agree to his wickedness, the messenger poisoned an egg, and bade her keepers, when she was hungry, boil it and give her to eat. She did so, and died." Tradition points out one of the lofty turrets, perched on the top, at the comer of the ^\Tiite tower of London, as the scene of this murder. She was conveyed there, after the storming of Baynard's-Castle, in 1213. In a like spirit to count Julian, her enraged father brought the French into England to avenge his daughter. Matilda's tomb and effigy are still to be seen in the priory church of Little Dunmow, in Essex. — See Brayley's Graphic Perambulator. ^ Barnard's Histoiy of England. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 345 n as supposed 1215.' ^ohn retired le of many tempests of passion J he i, vented his 1, and then were raging, ng a sleepless hght,- where mercenaries whose assist. In the fair a the heach, inin^ in pira- iibjects. He was lost, and jmerged from senary troops 3S8 across the with horror. n of the rest : with his own iceding night. iciled himself ere arose a great suniaiiied the iwfully loved, but ereupon the king glaud, and caused \gi, to be spoiled. suit in love, and poisoned an egg, her to eat. She s, perched on the le of this munier. e, in 1213. In a icb into England to be seen in the lie Perambulator. to Isabella, whom he had kept in a state of palace restraint ever since the abduH" of Matilda the Fair.* The queen advanced as far as !> ulborough to meet him, where they abode some days at the royal palace on the forest of Saver- nake," which was one of the principal dower-castles of our queens. At this time there is an intimation on the record- rolls, that the new buildings at the queen's castle on Saver- nake were completed; among which were kitchens, with fire-places for roasting oxen whole. John consigned to the care of Isabella, at this time, his heir prince Henry, with whom she retired to Gloucester, where the rest of the royal children were abiding. The queen had, in the year 1214, become the mother of a second daughter, and in the succeed- ing year she gave birth to a third, named Isabella.' Scarcely had the queen retreated to the strong city of Gloucester, when that invasion by prince Louis of France took place which is so weU known in general history. The barons, driven to desperation by John's late outrages, offered the heir of France the crown, if he would aid them against their tormentor.* Hunted into an obscure comer of his kingdom, in the autumn of 1216 king John confided his person and regalia to the men of Lynn, in Norfolk. But as his affairs summoned him northward, he crossed the Wash to Swinshead-abbey, in Lincolnshire. The tide coming in un- expectedly, swept away part of his army and his baggage. His splendid regalia was swallowed in the devouring waters, and John himself scarcely escaped with life. The king arrived at Swinshead-abbey unwell and dispirited, and, withal, in a malignant ill temper. As he sat at meat in the abbot's refectory, he gave vent to his spleen by saying, "That he hoped to make the hal^enny loaf cost a shilling before the year was over." A Saxon monk heard this malicious speech with indignation. If the evidence of contemporary historians may be believed, John uttered this folly at dinner; and before his dessert was ended, he was poisoned in a dish of autumn pears. * Matthew of Westminster. ^ See Foedera, in many deeds. ' Afterwards married to the emperor of Germany. * Loms* claim was fomided on his marriage with the celebrated Blanche of Castile, niece to John. If'- ^r.:i\ nu: I b I' I 1 ■ r. I HA\i 346 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. In all probability, the king was seized with one of those severe typhus fevers often endemic in the fenny countries at the close of the year. The symptoms of alternate cold and heat, detailed by the chroniclers, approximate closely with that disease. Whether by the visitation of God, or through the agency of man, the fact is evident, that king John was stricken with a fatal illness at Swinshead; but, sick as he was, he ordered himself to be put in a litter, and carried for- ward on his northern progress. At Newark he could proceed no further, but gave himself up to the fierce attacks of the malady. He sent for the abbot and monks of Croxton, and made full confession of all his suis, (no sUght undertaking;) he then forgave his enemies, and enjoined those about him to charge his son, Henry, to do the same ; and, after taking the eucharist, and making all his officers swear fealty to hia eldest son, he expired, conmiending his soul to God, and hjs body to burial in Worcester cathedral, according to his especial direc- tions, close to the grave of St. Wulstan,* a Saxon bishop of great reputation for sanctity, lately canonized. This vicinity the dying king evidently considered likely to be convenient for keeping his corpse from the attacks of the Evil one, whom he had indefatigably served during his life. His contem- porary historians did not seem to think that this arrangement however prudently planned, was likely to be effectual in alter- ing his destination ; as one of them sums up his character in these words of terrific energy, — " Hell felt itself defiled by the presence of John." The queen and the royal children were at Gloucester when the news of the king's death arrived. Isabella and the earl of Pembroke immediately caused prince Henry to be pro- claimed in the streets of that city. In the coronation-letter of Henry III. is preserved the memory of a very prudent step taken by Isabella as queen-mother. As the kingdom ' The noble monument of king John, in black marble, with his fine cfiigy, is to be seen in Worce«ter cathedral, though now removed to the choir, at some distance from the desirable neighbourhood of the Saxon saint. John was reckoned by his contemporaries extremely handsome; but the great breatlth over tlu; cheeks and ears, which is the leading characteristic of this monarch, is not cou- aistcnt with modem ideas of beauty. 'ii'< ISABELLA OF ANQOUL^ME. 347 ir t ; t was in an unsettled and tumultuous state, and as she was by no means assui'ed of the safety of the young king, she pro- vided for the security of both her sons by sending the second, prince Richard, to Ireland, wliich was at that time loyal and tranquil. The boy-king says in his proclamation,* " The lady queen our mother has, upon advice, and having our assent to it sent our brother Bichard to Ireland, yet so that you and our kingdom can speedily see him again." Only nine days after the death of John, the queen caused her young son to be crowned in the cathedral of Gloucester.* Although so recently a widow, the extreme exigencies of the times forced Isabella to assist at her child's coronation. The regal diadem belonging to his father being lost in Lincoln Washes,' and the crown of Edward the Confessor being far dis- tant in Westminster-abbey, the Uttle king was crowned with a gold throat-collar belonging to his mother. A very small part of England recognised the claims of Isabella's son : even Glou- cester was divided, the citizens who adhered to the young king being known by the cross of Aquitaine, cut in white cloth and worn on the breast. Henry was then just nine years old j but though likely to be a minor for some years, it must be observed that the queen-mother was offered no share in the government ; and as several queens of England had frequently acted as regents, during the absence of their husbands or sons, this exclusion is a proof that the English held Isabella in little esteem. London and the adjacent counties were then in the hands of Louis of France. Among other possessions he held the queen's dower-palace of Berkhamstead, which was ' Focdera, vol. L ^ Speed's Chroiiic^e. ' Reports were circulated in Norfolk that the royal circlet of king John was oertunly found, in the late excavation ibr the Eau brink drainage, near the spot indicated by chroniclers as the scene of this loss ; and a well-sinker, who knew nothir.g of liistory, inlurmed a gentleman of Norfolk of a curious discovery he made, when digging for a well in the same neighbourhood. " I found," said he, " in the course of my well-egging, a king's crown." On being desired to describe it, he declared that it was not larger than the top of a quart pot, but cut out in ornaments round the top ; that it looked black, and that he had no idea of the value, for when a Jew pedlar offered him three pounds ten shillings, he was glad to accept it, but he ^R^rwards heard that the Jew had made upwards of fifty pounds by the speculation. This was, most likely, one of the golden coronals or circlets fixed at the back of the king's helmets, aa its size shows that it was not :.:i Vf M \ui u 'I ill lue legtti cruwQ. b' 'if ! I 348 ISABELLA OP ANGOUL^ME. strongly garrisoned with French soldiers. However, the valour and wisdom of the protector Pembroke, and the intrepidity of Hubert de Burgh, in a few months cleared England of these intruders. Before her year of widowhood had expired, Isabella retired to her native city, Angoul^me, July 1217. The princess Joanna resided in the vicinity of her mother's domains, being at Lusignan, the castle of the count de la Marche. Nbtliing could be more singular than the situation of queen Isabella as mother to the promised bride of count Hugh, and that bride under ten years of age. The valiant Lusignan himself was absent from his territories, venting his superfluous combative- ness and soothing his crosses in love by a crusade, which he undertook in 1216. The demise of his father obliged him to revisit Poitou in 1220, where he was frequently in company with the queen of England, who was at the same time his own early betrothed, and the mother of his young fiancie. Isabella, at the age of thirty-four, still retained that marvellous beauty which had caused her to be considered the Helen of the middle ages. It is therefore no great wonder that she quickly regained her old place in the constant heart of the valiant marcher. Two or three of her letters occur, addressed to her young son the king of England, in which Lusignan's name is men- tioned with much approbation. Soon after, we find the follow, ing notation in Matthew of Westminster : " In the year 1220, or about that time, Isabella, queen-dowager of England, having before crossed the seas, took to her husband her former spotise, the count of Marche, in France, without leave of her son, the king, or his council."* He further observes, that "As the queen took this step without asking the consent of any one in England, the council of regency withheld her dower from her, to the indignation of her husband." Isabella announced her marriage to her son in a manner perfectly consistent with the artifice of her character. If she had honestly acknowledged that she was glad of an oppor- tunity of making amends to her former lover for the ill treat- Cart ' Matthew Paris. Rymer's Fcedcra. Hemmingford. Wikes. Bapin, p. 315. =11 n.-i115e- "•••1 'M'l roritr. A vijcii. vA/uici. ciuU jsiuivri. \ ISABELLA OF ANGOIJL^ME. 349 the valour intrepidity England of ella retired le princess lains, being . Notliing Isabella as L that bride tiimself was combative- e, which he iged him to in company Lme( his own e. Isabella, llous beauty f the middle kly regained nt marcher, her young me is meu- the follow- year 1220, and, having rmer spoiisCy ler son, the at " As the any one in er from her, a. a manner er. If she an oppjr- he ill treat- Rapin, p. 313. nient he had previously received from her and king John, particularly as she found she was still beloved by him, no one could have blamed her. But no : according to her own account she did not take the count de la Marche to please herself, — she made a sacrifice of self in the whole proceeding j or rather, when all other means of managing this formidable neighbour to Aquitaine failed, " ourself married the said Hugh, God knows, my dear son, rather for your benefit than our own." However, here is the lady's letter, one of the recent discoveries among the Noiman rolls^ in the Tower of London : « To our dearest son Henry, by the grace of God king of England, lord of Ire- land, duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Isabella countesa of Ai\jon and Angou- leme sends health and her maternal benediction. - We hereby signify to you, that when the counts of Marche and Eu' departed this lif^, the lord Hugh de Lusignan remained alone and without heirs in Poitou ; and his friends would not permit that our daughter should be united to him in marriage, because her age is so tender,^ but counselled him to take a wife from whom he might speedily hope for an heir; and it was proposed that he should take a wife in France, which if he had done, all your land in Poitou and Gascony would be lost. We, therefore, seeing the great peril that might accrue if that marriage should take place, (when our counsellors could give us no better advice,) ourself married the said count de Marche; and God knows that we did this rather for your benefit than our own. Wherefore we entreat you, dear son, that this thing may be pleasing to you, seemg it conduces greatly to the profit of you and yours ; and we earnestly pray that you will restore to him (Hugh de Lusignan, count de Marche) his lawfiil right ; that is, Niort,* and the castles of Exeter and Rockingham, which your father, our former husband, hequeathed us." Lest the council of young Henry III. (to whom this choice epistle was reaUy addressed) should not be sufficiently pro- pitiated by the queen-mother's self-sacrifice, in taking Marche herself for fear a French spouse might render him mischievously disposed to them, she does not fail to set forth his formidable position as a border potentate, holding, withal, a great judicial * Edited by T. Stapleton, esq., f.a.s. ' Father and uncle of Hugh de Lusignan, Isabella's former betrothed. ^ If Joanna had been bom in 1203, as supposed, she would have been at this time seventeen, when her mother could not have used tliis plea. * Niort, on the road fix)m Poictiers to Rochefort, still shows the dower-castlc here claimed by Isabella. It is thirteen miles from Poictiers, and but three or four from the famous castle of Lusignan. It still has two great donjons, each sur- romided by eight tourelles. This feudal pile has been use^ as a prison for the last three centuries. D'Aubigne, madanie de Maintenon's father, was imprisoned there for years ; and that celebrated lady, if not bom at Niort, passed the first years of her life within its walls. !H; :-, II l\\ \ \' I if W i i: ' f ;i r 1 i 1 I ; i 350 ISABELLA OF ANQOULtME. to office of a governing nature, paramount over the mysterious ramifications of feudality, which could at any time be exerted to the injury of her son's Aquitanian dominions. " And so, an please you, deal with him, that, placed in power as he is, he may be with you, and not against you, for bo can help you well, and he is well din. posed to serve you faithMly, with all his power. And we are certain and under> take that he shall serve you well, if you will restore to him his rights, and therefore we advise you that you shall take opportune counsel in these matters. And when it shall please you, you may send for our daughter (Joanna), your sister, by a safe messenger and your letters-patent, and we will send her to you." This notable epistle did not produce the desired effect of inducing young king Henry to surrender the Poitou dower- castle of Niort, the castles of Exeter and Rockingham, and still less the cash bequeathed by king John to his mother; which sum, we strongly suspect, was not in the coffers of the defunct, but he meant should be extracted from those of his subjects. As it was not forthcoming on this oceasion, the count de la Marche commenced being as troublesome a neighbour to Poitou aa his loving spouse had intimated he meant to be, if exasperated. On her own account she showed herself hostilely disposed, by detaining her young daughter when she was demanded by the English council. Yet it is very evident that she would have been glad to have got rid of the child, whom she had deprived of her elderly bridegroom. The young king sent no satisfactory answer in return to the demand of the legacy and dower-castle of Niort ; but only a letter, dated May 32, addressed " to the count de la Marche, who has married our mother, requiring him to come to Eng- land to treat with him on their affairs, and to send his young sister forthwith under safe-conduct to RocheUe, to be delivered to his officers, whom he has ordained to receive her."' Isabella, however, having ascertained that the council of her son's regency were anxious for the restoration of the httle princess, in order to give her in marriage to the young king of Scots, Alexander II., and that a very desirable treaty of peace could not be ratified without the hand of her daughter, she took advantage of circumstances, and refiised to give her up with- • Records of the Wakefield tower. Tower of London. — Fourth Report of Public Records. Report of T. Dumia Hardy, esq. —Fourth Report of ISABELLA OP ANGOUL^ME. out the payments and surrenders previously specified. The count de la Marche forthwith commenced active measures of annoyance against the townsmen of Niort, whose letters to their sovereign, Henry king of England, are piteoas in the extreme, full of complaints of being starved, plundered, and maltreated.' The young king then wrote to the pope, earnestly requesting him to excommunicate his mother and father-in-law : the latter he vituperated as a very Judas. Be- fore the pope complied with this dutiful request, he inquired a little into the merits of the case, and foimd that Henry III. had deprived his royal mother of all, in England and Guienne, that appertained to her as the widow of king John, because she did not ask his leave to marry a second time ; and as he was only fourteen, that was scarcely to be expected. After a most voluminous correspondence between the contending parties, on the king of Scots declaring he would not be pacified without a wife from the royal family of England, Henry was glad to make up the difference with his mother, by paying her arrears of jointure, and receiving from the count de la Marche the princess Joanna.' The king of France was the liege lord of count de la Marche, but the coimtess-queen was infruiated whenever she saw her husband arrayed against the territories of her son, and her sole study was, how French Poitou could be rendered independent of the king of France. " She was a queen,"' she said, " and she disdained to be the wife of a man who had to kneel before another." Another cause of violent irritation existed : prince Alphonso, the brother of the king of France, had refused to espouse her infant daughter by the co\mt de la Marche, and married Jane of Thoulouse : on this occasion king Louis created his brother count of Poictiers, and required the count de la Marche, as possessor of Poitou, to do him homage. Isabella ' Records of the Wakefield tower. Tower of London. — Fourth Report of Public Becords. Report of T. Duflfus Hardy, esq. ' M. Paris, llie pi'incess was married to Alexander II. at York, Midsummer 1221. Though only eleven years of age, her marriages had already twice stopped a cruel war. She was sumamed by the English, Joan Makepeace. She died, when twenty-six, of a decline, produced by a change of climate. The king of Scots, at this pacification, received back his two sisters, who had been pledged to king John for a sum of money. ^ Speed. ! i, • • n '■ >■ U\ , i 1 '■ w . -r ■■ r. % 852 ISATBELLA OP ANGOULfian!. ai 1^1 manifested great disdain at the hcirass of Thoulouse' takins precedence of her, the crowned queen of England — mother, as ehe said, of a king and an empress. From that time she BuflTered the unfortunate count de la Marche to have no do. mestic peace, till he transferred his allegiance from Louis IX. to her son Henry III., who imdertook the conquest of French Poitou at the instigation of his mother. Several years of disastrous warfare ensued. The husband of Isabella nearly lost his whole patrimony, while the district of the Angoumois was overrun by the French." After kiii" Henry III. lost the battle of Taillebourg, fought on the banks of Isabella's native river, the sparkling Charente, in 12 12, a series of defeats followed, which utterly dispossessed both the queen-mother and her husband of their territories. Henry III. fled to Bourdeaux, scarcely deeming himself safe in that city; while the queen-mother, whose pride had occasioned the whole catastrophe, had no resource but to deliver herself up to the mercy of the king of France. The count de la Marche had fought like a lion, but his valour availed little when the minds of his people were against the war. In this dilemma the countess-queen and her lord determined to send their heir, the young Hugh de Lusignan, to see how king Louis seemed disposed towards them. That amiable monarch received the son of his enemies with such benevolence, that the count de la Marche, taking his wife and the rest of the children with him to the camp of St. Louis, threw themselves at his feet, and were very kindly received,— on no worse conditions than doing homage to prince Alphonso for three castles. Two years afterwards the life of king Louis was attempted, the first time by poison, the second time by the poniard. The last assassin was detected : he confessed that he had been suborned by Isabella. A congress was lield by Louis in the neighbourhood of Poitou, where he laid before the prelates and the peers of the southern borders the proofs of the turpitude which had emanated from the family of the count de la Marche. The king wished to hold this consultation before he charged with crime a potentate as high in the ranks of the feudal » RecueU^de TiUet, 1241. « M. ParU. ; 'I ISABELLA OF ANGOUl£mE. 353 cliivalry as the head of the house of Lusignan, — for the un- fortunate count de la Marche was supposed to be the instigator of Ills wife. Isabella, deeming that her sacred station as an anointed queen had prevented all imputation on her conduct, showed the greatest efifrontery on the occasion.' She affected to believe that the congress was a mere effort of party maUce towards her lord; accordingly she sununoned all her retainers and attendants, and mounting her horse, rode to the court of inquiry. Either she was not permitted to enter, or her con- science suggested such proceeding might not be quite safe; but she scandalized all beholders by sitting on horseback'' at the door of the comt wliile the inquiry went on. Such pro- ceeding would have been heroic had she been innocent ; but as it was, it merely showed her daring disposition. Isabella cither saw some witness enter who staggered her resolution, or slie lieai'd rumours which convinced her that her wickedness was discovered, for suddenly she passed from the height of audacity to the depths of despair. She fled homewards ; and when the news came that the assembled peers and prelates con- sidered there were grounds for judicial process, she threw her- self into transports of fury, tore her guimpe ' and her hair, and snatching her dagger, would have plunged it into her breast, if it had not been wrested from her hand."* Isabella's access of rage brought on a severe illness, rather fortunately for her at that crisis. It gave some colour to her subsequent escape into her son's dominions : she affected to seek medical advice, but she really sought refuge at the same time at his royal abbey of Fontevraud. The Benedictine ladies gave her shelter in those apartments which were set apart for any members of their royal benefactor's family who were sick or penitent, — ^laden with ills of body or soul. No one could be more indisposed in both than Isabella of Angoul^me, nor did ' Guillaume de Nangis. ^ French Chronicle, quoted by M. Michelet. ^ Wimple. This is an article of female head-gear, which occasions long and serious disputes among our brother antiquaries ; but wo hope that the portrait cf Isabella will settle the pattern of it to their general satisfaction. For they will own, that Isabella could not have torn her wimple without she had worn one, iind fashions did not chimge in those days oftener than once in a quarter of a centurj', as the beautiful enamelled statues at Fontevraud will very well prove. * French Chronicle, quoted by Vatout, Hist, of Eu. VOL. I. n . 4t/ A h- ' f-. I . i i in iS \\\\ ! I j m n : ■ v4 ' ttj <y were seized, and about to be tncd on this accusation of poisoning, when count de la Marche made appeal to battail, and oflcred to prcjve in combat with his accuser Alphouso, brother to St. Louis, that his wife was belied.'* Alphonso, who appears to ha\ e had no great stonmch to the fray, declined it, on the plea that count Hugh was so "treason-spotted" it would be pollution to fight with him Then Isabella's young son Hugh dutifully offered to figlit ia the place of his sire, and Alphonso actually aj)pointed the uay and place to meet him ; nevertheless, he agaui witndrc^v, ex- cusmg himself on the plea of the infamy of the family. " This sad news," says old Matthew, " for evil tidings hasten fast, soon reached the ears of Isabella in the secret chamber of Fontevraud." The affront offered to her brave young son broke the heart of Isabella. She never came out of 'the secret chamber' again, but. ii^suming the veil, died of a decay brought on by grief, in the yenr 1246. As a peuance for her sins, she dMured to be buried humbly in the common cemetery at Fontewlud. Some years after- wards her son, Henry III., visitmg the tombs of his ancestors at Fontevraud, was shocked at being shown the lowly grave of his mother: he raised for her a stately tomb, with a fine enamelled statue, in the choir at Fontevraud, near Ileniy II. and Eleanora of Aquitaine, her mother-in-law.^ Her statue is of fine proportions, clad m flowing garmeuos oi tlirt royal blue of France figured with gold, and confine * ^<.> Inj . ;,,st by a girdle. She wears the >vimple and the veil. Her face is oval, with regular and majestic features." .' , ^,.. ,y, . , ' Matthew Paris. Guillaiime de Nangis. Recucil do Tillot, •T'' • Mntthew of Wostmiustcr. * T-. • ?.. -• of +h* royal otfigies at Fontevraud in the present century is thus dciscti K '\ ^'t(«f?i!4rd'8 Monumentid Antiquities, by the admirable pen of Mrs. that retreat itthcw Pjvris 10 Poicteviiis sastrous war iehel, instoivd i, " that Uk? ti her unfor- about to be (le la Marchc combat with his wife was ;reat stomach Hugh was 80 ht with him id to tiglit in linted the day withdr^'v, ex- ■araily. "This »8 hasten fast, it chamber of e young son out of 'the ,cd of a decay )Tiried humbly le years after- If his ancestors lowly grave of with a fine [ear Henry II. Her statue IS \ t the royal lo ^n„' .*ist by Her face is |do Tillot. ent cei)t\iry is t1u« liraWc iwu of Mrs. ISABELIA OF AlfQOUL^ME. Sftii '/W'lip^ w /III 355 . .. . .- , ,^ '4*1 The count (le la Marche survives nis unhappy partner but tin the year 112 tU. Tlie enmity between bim and the family of St. Louis entirely disupiwared atlei *bo dcatli ol Isabella ; for her husband shared the crusade that the king nf Fiance made to Damictta, and fell, covered with wounds, in one of the -eastern battles, fighting by the side of his ohl nritagonist, Alphouso count of Poictiera.' Isabella left stiveral clnldren by this mar- riage,— five sons, and at least three daughters. Her eldest son hv the count de la Marche succeeded, not only to his lather a domains, out .o his mother's patrimony of the Angouiaois. Thf ' n ;t J la Marche sent all his younger sous, with his diiii.htcr Alict!, to Henry III., who provided for them with reckless, ^jrofusion, to the indignation of his EngUsh subjects. The names of his half-brothers lue connected with most of the grievfin''es of his troubled reign. The second son of queen Isabella and Mai'che was Guy de Lusignan, skin at the battle of Lewes ; the tlurd, William de Valence, earl of Pembroke, well known in English chronicle; the fourth, Aymei* de ^'alcuce, bishop of Wiucliester." Tlie sons of Isabella derived their appellations from the places where she resided when she gave them birth : those called * de Valence ' were bom at her lord's great citadel of that name, and the others at bis more celebrated feudal chstle of Lusignan. . , > , i . tj Bmy. " When Mr. Stothard "mt visited France, daring the inmmer of 1816, hi' came direct to Fontevruud t« certain if the effigies of our ancient kings wl»o wvtc Imried there wei-c to ho Hccn. He found the ubhey converted into a prison, r.wl dijioovered in a cellar belonging to it the effigies of Heniy II., his queen Eleunonv of Aquitaine, Rithurd I., and Isabella of Angouleuie. The chapel where tlic fifrwres were placed previous to the Revolution was entirely destroyed, and thew invaluable effigies then removc«l to a cellar, where they were exposed to coiLstiuit mutilation fi-oui the prisoners who came to draw water from a well twic'C every djiy. It appeared they had sustained severe injury, as Mr. Stothard t'ouiul the bi-oken fniginents soattered round. He made drawings of the figures, luid upfi'i ; s i-eturn to EngUuid suggested to our government the propriety of jbtaiiiing iH)ss .; ^j .;I''i:m"ii(Im ' / I, 2 a2 \\ t S i If- ^'' I t I . 1 \ ii f,ij < ■Kr0jyk\- ^r'-'i!A^^ ^h w » ; ryl i'l^f'l,- ELEANOR OF PROVENCE, SUKNAMED LA BELLE, QUEEN OP HENRY IIL CHAPTER I. 1 Eleanor of Provence — Parentage — Birth — Talents — Poem written by her--Hei beauty — Henry accepts Eleanor without dowry — Escorted to England- Married at Canterbury — Crowned at Westminster — Costume and jewels- Henry's attention to dress — Rapacity of the queen's relatives — Birth of hei eldest son — Pahitings in her chambers — Attempt on the king's life — Eleanoi rules the king — Birth of her eldest daughter — Queen accompanies the kiiig to Guicnne — Birth of the princess Beatrice — Return to England — Tm-bulence of Eleanor's imcle — Eleanor's second son bom — King and queen robbed on the highway — Eleanor's unpopularity in London — Dower — Eleanor's mother- King pawns plate and jewels — Marriage of princess Margaret — Projected crusade — Eleanor appointed queen-regent — King's departure for Guienne— Makes his will — Bequeaths royal power to Eleanor — Princess Katherine bora — Her early death. Eleanor of Provence was perhaps the most unpopular queeu that ever presided over the court of England. She was un- fortunately called to share the crown and royal dignity of a feeble-minded sovereign at an earlier age than any of her pre- decessors, for at the time of her marriage with king Henry she had scarcely completed her fomteenth year/ a period of life when her education was imperfect, her judgment unformed, and her character precisely that of a spoUed child, of precocious beauty and genius, — ^perilous gifts ! which in her case served but to foster vanity and self-sufficiency. ' M. Paris. '■y- \ -«--^'^^'-ri f\7 • lit tten by her--Hei 3d to England- line and jewels— ives — Birth of hei ing'8 life — Eleanoi iponies the king to nd — Turbulence of leen robbed on tlie leanor's mother— argaret — Projected lire for Guienne— ess Katherine bom / ' ir.d"!-;, HonrY Collmrn. liS5l, -^■■m--' \' I i . # i -V \m ; t j ! 1 i-™ ^ i\ i'A uf'iO'jh JmH/■ /I I *'?•-. v. ■.):' m the fine Proven9al romance, of her own inditing/ on the adven- tures of Blandin of Cornwall, and Guillaume of Miremas his companion, who undertook great perils for the love of the princess Briende and her sister Irlonde, (probably Britain and Ireland,) dames of incomparable beauty. ''''>■ hi ;; ,,,,,1 . Richard of Cornwall, to whom the young infanta sent, by way of a courtly compUraent," a poem so appropriately furnished with a paladin of Cornwall for a hero, was then at Poitou preparing for a crusade, in wliich he hoped to emulate his royal uncle and namesake, Richard I. He was higlily flattered by the attention of the young princess, who was so celebrated for her personal charms that she was called Eleanor la Belle • but as it was out of his power to testify his grateful sense of the honour by offering his hand and heart to the royal Pro- ven9al beauty in return for her romantic rhymes, he bein" already the husband of one good lady, (the daughter of the great earl-protector Pembroke,) he obligingly recommended her to his brother Henry III. for a queen. That monarch whose share of personal advantages was but small, and whose learning and imaginativeness far exceeded his wit and judgment, had been disappointed in no less than five attempts to enter the holy pale of matrimony, with as many different princesses. He would fain have espoused a princess of Scotland, whose eldest sister had mamed his great minister Hubert de Burgh -^ but his nobles, from jealousy of Hubert, dissuaded him from this aUiance."* He then vainly sued for a consort in the • Lives of the Troubadours, by Nostradamus, who very stupidly mistakes Richard earl of Cornwall for his uncle Ccomt de Lion j but Fauriel has, in tlie Revue des Deux Mondcs, satisfactorily explained the blunder. * Tlie poem written by the princess Eleanor bears mai'ks of its origin, being precisely the sort of composition that a child, or young girl of some; genius and little literary exjierience, might have composed. It was not without colebrity in her native country, whei'e it is yet remembered. Probably the youug Eleanor received some assLstiuice from her mother and father, a.s the countess Iteatrice and the count Berenger were Iwth poets of great popidarity ifi the Pi-ovenfal dialect. — Fauriel, Revue dcs Ueux Mondca. ^ It was reporttxl to king Hem-y, by Hubert's jealous foes, that he had dissuaded a Imly from fiilfiUing her engagement with the king, by telling licr " that Henry wiw a squint-eyed fool, a lewd man, a leper, deceitful, perjuml, more faint-hearted th&ji a woman, and utterly unfit tor the company of any fair or noble lady." — Articles of Im]K!iu'hment ; Speed. ,1 ■■ui-: -t, * llauin. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 359 courts of Bretagne, Austria, and Bohemia. At length, wholly dispirited by his want of success in every matrimonial nego- tiation into which he had entered, the royal Coelebs, having arrived at the age of twenty-five, began, no doubt, to imagine himself devoted to a life of single blessedness, and remained four years without further attempts to provide himself with a queen. In 1235, however, he again took courage, and oflFered his hand to Joanna, the daughter of the earl of Ponthieu; and having, for the first time in his hfe, received a favourable answer to his proposals, a contract of marriage with this lady was signed, and ambassadors despatched for the pope's dis- pensation ; but when they were within a few days' journey of Rome, he sent word that he had altered his mind, and charged them not to proceed.* This sudden change of purpose was occasioned by the agreeable impression Henry had received from his brother, Richard earl of Cornwall, of the beauty and brilliant genius of his fair coiTespondent, Eleanor of Provence.'' As soon as Henry thought proper to make known to his court that he had broken his engagement with the maid of Ponthieu, his nobles, according to Hemmingford, were so obliging as to recommend him to marry the very lady on whom he had secretly fixed his mind. As Louis IX. of France (afterwards styled St. Louis) was married to Eleanor's eldest sister, the infanta Marguerite of Provence, Henry's counsellors were of opinion that great pohtical advantages might be derived from this aUiance. The matrimonial treaty was opened June 1235. Henry discreetly made choice of three sober priests, for his procurators at the court of count Berenger,^ — the bishops of Ely and Lincoln, and the prior of Hurle: to these were added the master of the Temple. Tliough Henry's age more than doubled that of the fair maid of Provence, of whose charms and accomphshments he had received such favourable reports, and he was aware that the poverty of the generous count her father was almost proverbial, • Matthew Paris. Matthew of Westminster. Rapin. * We find in Rymer's Focdera, about this period, a letter wi'itten by Henry III. to the earl Savoy, brother to the countess IJeatrice, Eleanor's mother, entreating his fi'icndly assistance in bringing about the marriage. ■ . i , . . , ,^. * Rvnipr'a Fnvlorii. 1 ! ^'■ ( ■' 'i i ■;;[ ! ■ 4 1 * ^ 1 i ■ ' n i 860 ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. 'rk yet the king's constitutional covetoiisness impelled him to demand the enomious portion of twenty thousand marks with this fairest flower of the land of roses and sweet song. ' Count Berenger, in reply, objected on the part of his daughter, to the very inadequate dower Henry would be able to settle upon her during the life of his mother, queen Isabella. Henry, on this, proceeded to lower his demands from one sum to another, till finding that the impoverished but high. spirited Proven9al count was inclined to resent his sordid manner of bargaining for the nuptial portion,^ and bein" seriously alarmed lest he shoidd lose the lady, he in a gi'eat fright wrote to his ambassadors, " to conclude the marriage forthwith, either with money or without j but at all events to secure the lady for him, and conduct her safely to England without delay." After the contract was signed, Heniy wrote both to the count and countess of Provence, requestin.^ them *' to permit the nuptials of Eleanor to be postponed till the feast of St. Martin, and to explain to their daughter that such was his wish."^ . , Eleanor was dowered in the reversion of the queen-mother Isabella of Angouleme's dower, whose jointure is recapitulated in the marriage-treaty between Henry and liis fixture consort ; but no immediate settlement is specified for th^ yomig queen, The royal bride, having been dehvered with due solemnity to king Henry's ambassadors, commenced her journey to England. She was attended on her progress by all the chivalry and beauty of the south of France, a stately train of nobles^ ladies, minstrels, and jongleurs, with crowds of humbler followers. Eleanor was treated with peculiar honours by Thibaut, the poet-king of Navarre, who feasted her and her company for five days, and guarded them in person, with all his knights and nobles, to the French frontier. There she was met and welcomed by her eldest sister, the consort of that most amiable * In hU private instructions to John, the son of Philip, hiri senesoiial, sind to his procurutors, Henry l)y a postscript sul)joins the following scale of j "oj^ressive abatements, which he empowers his truKty and well-beloved to make from liis first demand of 20,000 marks : 15,000— 10,()00— 7,000 —5,000— 3,000 niavcaium. -Rymer's F'cedera. It is by no means certain that even the paltry minimum here named by the royal calculator wtw obtained. * These letters are dated the 10th of October, 1235. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 361 led him to marks with .ng. )art of his luld be able sen Isabella. 3 from one id but hi<,'li. ; his sordid and beiu!; le in a j^'eiit he marriage all events to • to England Hemy wrote lestin,:? them )oned till the aughter that meen-mother recapitulated cure consort; ^oung queen. solemnity to y to England. chivalry and nobles, ladies, er followers. Thibaut, the company for his knights was met and most amiable seneschal, and to iilc of 1 "();j:n'ssive ) make iVuin liis 3,000 niiivcai'um. mimmum here and virtuous of kings, St. Louis ; and, after receiving the con- gratulations of these illustrious relatives, she embarked for England, landed at Dover, and, on the 4th of January, 1236, was married to king Henry III. at Canterbury by the arch- bishop, St. Edmund of Canterbury.' Piers of Langtoft gives us the following description of the royal bride : — " Henry, our kinf^, at Westminster took to wife ' ■ < ' " The earl's daughter of Provence, the fau'est May in life; ^!v' Her name is Elinor, of gentle nurture ; Beyond the sea there was no such creature." ; . > ■ All contemporary cluronicles, indeed, whether in halting English rhymes or sonorous Latin prose, — ^to say nothing of the panegyrical strains of her countiymen, the Proven9al poets, — are agreed in representing this princess as weU deserving the surname of *la Belle.* King Henry conducted his youthful consort to London in gi-eat pride, attended by a splendid train of nobility and eccle- siastics, who had accompanied the sovereipTi to Canterbury in order to assist at his nuptials. Preparations of the most extraordinary magnificence were made for the approaching coronation of the newly-wedded queen, wliich was appointed to take place on the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, six days only after the bridal, being the 20th of January. Pre- vious to that august ceremony Henry had caused great improvements to be made in the palace of Westminster for the reception of his young consort. There is a precept, in the twentieth year of his reign, du'ecting " that the king's great chamber at Westminster be painted a good green colour. like a curtain : that, in the great gable or frontispiece of the said chamber a French inscription should be painted, and that the king's little wardrobe should also be painted of a green coloiu', to imitate a cui'tain." The queen's chamber was beautified and adorned with liistorical paintings at the same time. The Saturday before the queen was crowned, Henry laid the first stone of the Lady-chapel, in Westminster-abbey. We read also that the good citizens of London, in their zealous desire of doing honour to their new queen, set about the * M. I'aris. iill; ^m^ ' ' [\ ; I ■ ' il m hi ^ .i!li '. , i: 363. ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. li : I' IH scarcely less than Herculean labour of cleansing their streets from mud, and aU other offensive accumulations, with which they were, at that season of the year, rendered almost impass- able. This laudable purification, which must have l)een regarded almost as a national blessing, being happily effected the loyal citizens p.vepared all sorts of costly pageantry, before unheard of, to grace the coronation-festival, and delight the young queen. Eleanor was just at the happy age for enjoying the spectacle of all the gay succession of brave shows and dainty devices 80 elegantly detailed by Matthew Paris, who, after descril)in'' streets hung with diflfcrent-coloured silks, garlands, and banners and with lamps, cressets, and other lights at night, concludes by saying, — " But why need I recount the train of those who performed the offices of the church ? why describe the profusion of dishes wliich furnished the table, the abundance Ojf venison the variety of fisli, the diversity of wine, the gaiety of tlic jugglers, the comeliness of the attendants? Whatever the world could produce for glory or delight, was there conspicuous." The most remai'kable feature in the coronation of Eleanor of Provence must have been the equestrian procession of the citizens of London, avIio, on that occasion, claimed the office of cellarere to the king of England. The claim of his loyal citizens having been wisely granted, they venturously mounted swift horses, and rode forth to accompany the king .and queen fi-om the Tower, clothed in long garments, embroidered with gold and silk of divers colom-s. They amounted to the niunher of three hundred and sixty. Their steeds were fuiely trapped in array, with shining bits and new s.iddles, each citizen bearing a gold or silver cup in his hand for the royal use, the king's trumpeters sounding before them ; and so rode they in at the royal })an(piet, (better riders, belike, were they than the men who wear long gowns in the city of London in these degenerate days,) and served the king and that noble company with wine, according to their duty.' The mayor of London, Andrew Buckerel the peppcrer, headed tliis splendid ci^^c cavalcade, and claimed the place of ma.ster INIichael Belot, the fcatei ' Matthew Paris. City Record, to the royai buticr. Speed. As ceUarers, they haiuled the wine ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 363 cy handed the wine deputy of Albini earl of Arundel, the grand botcler or pincema of England ; but he was repulsed by order of the king, who said, *' No one ought by right to pcrfonn that service but master Michael." The mayor submitted to the royal decision in this matter of high ceremonial, and served the two bishops at the king's right hand.' After the banquet, the earl-boteler received the cup out of M'hich the king had drunk as a matter of right ; and master Michael, his deputy, received the earl's robes. Gilbert de Sandibrd claimed, for the service of keeping the queen's chamber-door at this coronation, the queen's bed and all its fiirniture, as her chamberlain.' The barons of the Cinque-ports made their claim to carry, as usual, the canopy over the queen's head, — a right which was fruitlessly disputed DV ' tlie marchers' of Wales. Alms were bounteously distributed to the poor on this occasion, king Henry, with all his faults, being one of the most charitable of princes. The most siunptuous and splendid gannents ever seen in England Avere worn at the coronation of the young queen of Heniy III. The peaceful and vigorous administration of Pembroke and Hubert, de Burgh had filled England with wealth and luxury, dra^Ti from theu' commerce with the south of France. The citizens of London wore at this splendid ceremony gannents called cyclades, a sort of upper robe, made not only of silk, but of velvet worked ynth. gold. Henry III., who was the greatest fop in his dominions, did not, like king John, confine his wardrobe precepts to the adornment of his own person, but liberally issued benefactions of satin, velvet, cloth of gold, and ermine for the apparelhng of his royal ladies. No homely dress of green cloth Mas ordered for the attire of his lovely queen ; but when a mantle lined with ermine was made by his tailors for himself, another as rich was given out for Eleanor. The elegant fashion of chaplets of gold and jewels, worn over the hair, was adopted by this queen, whose jewellery was * Sped. City Records. ' Ah tlie citizens of London had claimed the service of the hntlery, so those of Wiiiehcsttn- claimed thiit of the roynl kitchen ; but the douigs of the men of Winchester, in the capacity of cook's assistants, have not hoen recorded. The cloth tliiit hung behind the king's table wius claimed, on the one side by the door- kwpers, and on the other by tlie scuUioiu;, as their iK-rquisite. . , . I n w .^ i-n % ? ., V i. ir. n ^., il'l '1 ^i i [■ ■ ■■ V " ■ 1 ' ' ? 1*^ , '■ i ■ ^ l: '•.,; !, ~ - : "^ - > ' u\ ?:•" ' i t" , ■ W'' ' ;., ■€» , ■j: 1' [ ^■i^ & t \ :*. . . ^-' H ■» ■ 'Ti' v: ;i! 4 364 ELEANOn OF PROVENCE. of a magnificent order, and is siii)posed to liave cost lier doting husband nearly 3(),()()()/. — an enormous sum, if reckoned according to the value of oiu* money. Eleanor lia.'tt^iM i^ i n ♦ 'i 1 i ) 4 w 370 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. expedition against her brother-in-law, the king of France' with whom that peace-loving monarch had suffered himseli' to be involved in a quarrel, to obhge his mother, Isabella of Angouleme." The idng and queen embarked at Ports- mouth. May 19, 1342. Henry was totally unsuccessful in his attacks on the king of France, and, after a series of defeats,' took refiige with his queen at Bourdeaux, to the great scandal of all his English knights and nobles, many of whom returned home in disgust, wliich Henry revenged in the usual way, by fining their estates. Eleanor gave birth to another daughter at Bourdeaux, whom she named Beatrice, after her mother, the countess of Provence.* In consequence of the close connexion between their queens, Louis IX. was induced to grant a truce of five years to his vanquished foe. Henry and Eleanor then resolved to spend a merry winter at Bourdeaux, where they amused them. selves with as much feasting and pageantry as if Henry had obtained the most splendid victories, although he was much impoverished by losing his miUtary chest, and his moveable chapel-royal, with all its rich plate, at the battle of Taillebouig. When Henry and Eleanor returned to England, they landed at Portsmouth, and orders were issued that the principal inhabitants of every tovm on the route to London should testify their loyal affection, by coming forth on horseback in their best array, to meet and welcome their sovereign and his queen.* During the residence of the royal family on the continent, queen liUleanor strengthened her interest by bringing about a union between her youngest sister Cincia, or Sancha, and the king's brother, Richard earl of Cornwall, who had recently become a widower. The marriage was solemnized in England, whither the countess of Provence conducted the affianced bride in the autumn of the same year. Henry called upon the Jews to furnish the fimds for the splendid festivities which he thought proper to ordain, in honom* of the nuptials between his brother and the sister of his queen. One Jew alone, the rich Aai'on of York, was compelled to pay no less than four ' M. Westminster. Rapin. ^ M. Vixt'in. Rapin. I ' • ' See the preceding biography. * Ibiu. * Speed. / I g of France' iffered himself other, Isabella ked at Ports- nsuccessful in ;er a series of IX, to the great many of whom ed in the usual rth to another itrice, after her between their ice of five years then resolved to y amused them- js if Henry had jrh he was much id his moveable Le of Taillebom-g. and, they landed at the principal ) London should th on horseback eir sovereign and on the continent, bringing about a Sancha, and the ,vho had recently lized in England, ted the affianced enry called upon d festivities whicli nuptials between ne Jew alone, the ^10 less than four ■emling biography. ^^ i ft .-.1 ELEANOR OF "PROVENCE. 371 hundred marks of gold, and fom* thousand of silver ; and the Jews of London were mulcted in hke proportion. The dinner at this bridal consisted of thirty thousand dishes. The countess of Provence, not contented with the splendour of her enter- tainment, thought proper, before she departed, to borrow four thousand marks of the king for the use of her husband. " The king," says the chroniclers of that day, " thought he never could do enough to testify his love for the queen and her family."* The misconduct of Eleanor's uncles, and their unfitness for the high and responsible situation in which they were placed in England, may be gathered from the following dis- graceful fracas, which took place between the archbishop Boniface and the monks of St. Bartholomew. In the year 1344, Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, thought proper to intrude himself in the bishop of London's diocese, on a visit- ation to the priory of St. Bartholomew. The monks, though they hked not his coming, received him with respect, and came out in solemn procession to meet him ; but the arch- bishop said "he came not to receive honour, but for the purposes of ecclesiastical visitation." On this the monks rephed, " that having a learned bishop of their own, they ought not to be visited by any other." This answer was so much resented by the vn-athful primate, that he smote the sub-prior on the face, exclaiming, in his ungovemed fury, " Indeed, indeed ! doth it become ye English traitors thus to withstand me?" and, vdth oilhs not proper to repeat, he tore the rich cope of the sub-prior to pieces and trampled it under his feet, and thrust him against a pillar of the chancel with such violence, that he had weU-nigh slain him. The monks seeing their sub-prior thus maltreated, pushed the archbishop back, and in so doing discovered that he was cased in armour, and prepared for battle. The archbishop's attendants, who were all Proven9als to a man, then fell on the monks, whom they beat, bufieted, and trampled under foot. The monks, in their rent and miry garments, ran to show theii* woimds, and to complain of their wrongs to their bishop, who bade them go and tell the king thereof. The only four who were li ; , 1 ■ i.'i 1 l^i > ■ ' ;; ;! 1 i i ■ f 1 i i i- f '. ;l \>. * M. Paris. 2b3 -r ^'i ii. \Vi I 11 f[ m E' 1 S2 372 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. capable of getting as far as Westminster proceeded to the palace in a doleful plight; but the king would neither see them, nor receive their complaint/ The populace of London were, however, in great indignation, and were disposed to tear the archbishop to pieces, pursuing him all the way to Lambeth with execrations, crying aloud, "Wlicre is this ruffian, — this cruel smiter ? He is no winner of souls, but an exacter of money, — a stranger bora, unlearned, and unLw. fully elected.'^ Boniface fled over to the palace, where he made his story good with the king through the influence of the queen, his niece, and the monks of St. Bartholomew got no redress. The following year, 1244, the threatened wtu* between England and Scotland was averted by a contract of mar- riage, in which the hand of the eldest daughter* of Henry and Eleanor, the infant lady Margaret, was pledgied to the heir of Scotland, the eldest son of Alexander 11.^ About this time Hemy ordered all the poor children from the streets and highways round Windsor and its neighbourhood, to be collected and munificently feasted in the great haU of the palace there. Afterwards the royal children were all publicly weighed, and their weight in silver distributed in alms among the destitute individuals present, for the good of the souls of the princely progeny of himself and queen Eleanor. In ^e beginning of the year 1245, the queen bore a second son, prince Edmund, and the Icing lev-ied a fine of fifteen hundred marks on the city oilLondon, imder pretence that they had shekered one Walter Bukerel, whom he had banished, Henry was encouraged in his unconstitutional proceedings by a very trivial circumstance. A fire broke out in the pope's palace, and destroyed the chamber in which the principal deed of Magna Charta was kept, which made the queen fancy that it was rendered null and void.* England was at this period iii such a state of misrule, that in Hampsliire no jury dared to find a bill against any plunderer ; nor was the system of universal pillage confined tq the weak and undefended, since Matthew Paris declares " king llenry complained to him, that when he * M. Westminster. 9 ^«" T»^_i ' in. rmiB, M. Wsstminst-eTr » M. Paris. ' ♦ I! edcd to the neither see ; of London disposed to L the way to licre is this jf souls, hut I, and unlaw- ice, where he 3 influence of Bartholomew war hetween tract of mar- iter- of Henry ledgt'd to the p II.' About •om the streets ourhood, to he at hall of the ere all pubhcly in alms among of the souls of anor. bore a second fine of fifteen iT pretence that le had banished, proceedings hy It in the pope's je principal deed sen fancy that it Ls period ill such dared to find a ;em of universal since Matthew , that when he » M. Paris. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 373 ^as travelling with the queen through that county, their luggage was robbed, their wine drunk, and themselves insulted by the lawless rabble." Such was the insurgent state of Hampshire, that king Henry coidd find no judge or justiciary who would undertake to see the laws duly executed. In this dilemma he was forced to sit on the bench of justice himself in Winchester-castle ; and no doubt the causes determined by him, and his manner of declaring judgment, would have been well worth the attention of modem reporters. While thus presiding personally on the King^s-bench, Henry had occasion to summon lord Chflbrd to answer at this justice-seat for some malefaction ; when the turbulent misdoer not only con- tumaciously refused his attendance, but forced the king^s officer to eat the royal warrant, seal and all!^ Henry punished him with spirit and courage. One great cause of the queen's unpopularity in Lodnon originated from the imprincipled manner in which she exer- cised her influence to compel all vessels freighted with com, wool, or any peculiarly valuable cargo, to unlade their cargoes at her hithe, or quay, called Queen-hithcj because at that port (the dues of which formed a part of the revenues of the queen-consorts of England) the toUs were paid according to the value of the lading.'' This arbitrary mode of proceeding was without parallel on the part of her predecessors, and was considered as a serious grievance by the masters of vessSs and merchants in general.' At last Eleanor, for a certain sum of money, sold her rights in tUs quay to her brother-in-law, Richard earl of Cornwall, who, for a quit-rent of fifty poimds per annum, let it as a fee-farm to John Gisors, the mayor of London, for the sake of putting an end to the perpetual dis- putes between the merchants of London and the queen. In order to annoy the citizens of London, Henry, during the disputes regarding the queen's gold, revived the old Saxon custom of convening folkmotes ;* and by this means reminded the commons, as the great body of his subjects were called, that they had a pohtical existence no less than the barons of ' Regal Ajinals, quoted by Speed. : m ' Har: ison's Survey of London. Ibid. M \ IV" h. 1: 374 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. England, — and they never again forgot it. Modem writers have asserted, that there was no middle class in the days of the Plantagenets : what, then, may we ask, were the citizens of London, those munificent and high-spirited merchants whose wealth so often in this reign excited the cupidity of tlie coiui ? If the conduct of the king and queen towards this class of their subjects had been guided by a more enhghtened pohcy, they might have fomid in their loyal affection no trivial support against Leicester and the disaffected aristocracy of England ; but, excited by the rapacity of Eleanor, the king pillaged and outraged the citizens, till they threw their weight into the scale of the mighty adversary of the monarchy. Queen Eleanor was somewhat reheved from her pecuniary difficulties by the death of the queen-mother, Isabella, in 1246. She was put, after this event, in full possession of the dower- lands appointed for the English queens ; she, howeier, appro- priated her replenished purse to the use of her mother, mIio, now a widow, paid another visit to England, to the great indignation of Henry. The king was discontented at the manner in which count Berenger had disposed of Provence, ^: to the exclusion of his eldest daughters. He was, besides, very little able to afford gifts to his wife's mother, since he had not at that very time wherewithal to meet his house- hold expenses. He was advised, as the parhament refused to assist him with more money, to raise the sum required to satisfy his clamorous creditors by seUing iiis plate and jewels. "But where shall I find purchsilBters, if money be so scarce?" demanded the king. " In the city of London," was the reply. On this, Henry petulantly observed, "If the treasuresof Augustus Caesar were in the market, the city of London would purchase them, I suppose. Those clownish citizens, who call themselves barons, are an inexhaustible treasury in themselves."' With the determination of participating in some of this envied wealth, Henry and Eleanor thought proper to keep the Cluistmas of 1248 in the city of London, and extorted presents fi'om the most hberal of the leading men there, to the amount of * M. Paris. Speed. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 375 upwards of two thousand marks.' Tliis was, however, far from satisfying the royal visitors. Henry complained that he had not been treated with sufficient respect, and to testiiy his displeasiu-e, proclaimed a fair in Tothill-fields for the benefit of the men of Westminster, which was to last a fortnight ; and during that period he forbade the citizens of London to open their shops for any sort of traffic, to the great injury of trade.' The extreme straits to which the king and queen were at times reduced for the money they profusely lavished, may be gathered from the fact, that in the twenty-ceventh year of his reign, Henry, being without '^e means of paying the officers of the chapel-royal at WinOdor, issued an order to John Mansel, directing him "to pawn the most valuable image of the Virgin Mary for the sum required, but imder especial con- dition that this hallowed pledge be deposited in a decent place.^" In the year 1249, the royal coflPers being entirely exhausted, and the parhament refiising to grant any aid, Henry proceeded to practise the degrading expedient of soliciting loans and gifts of every person of condition who entered his presence, assuring them, " That it would be gi-eater act of charity to bestow money on him, than on those \Fho went from door to door begging an alms."* The king and queen were next seized with an unwonted fit of economy, and not only forbore to make expensive grants and donations, but put aU their servants on short allowance, abridged their wages, and refused to disburse any of the gra- tuities which the kings and queens of England had been accus- tomed to bestow. They ceased to put on their royal robes,® and, to save the expense of keeping a table, they daily invited themselves, with their son prince Edward, and a chosen number of their foreign kindred or favourites, to dine with the rich men of the city of London, or the great men of the court, and manifested much discontent unless presented with costly gifts at their departure, which they took, not as obhga- tions and proofs of loyal afiection to their persons, but rs ' Survey of London. * Stowe. * Hadox. * M. Paris. • Speed. a B I S3; r ,'• f'r i i»t^' :b ' '^li /■;5r IS'l 876 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. ;4; It' Iru ' in i, I IJ ' m L \M matters of right. The cry of the land in this reign was against foreign influence and foreign oppression, and it was a proverb, that no one but a Proven9al or a Poictevin had any hopes of advancement, either in the state or church; and which were held in the greatest abhorrence, the half-brothers of the king or the uncles of the queen, it was difficult to say.' On St. Dunstan's-day, 1251, queen Eleanor's apartments in Windsor-castle were struck by Ughtning, and the chimney of the room where she and the royal children were, was thrown down by the violence of the shock, and reduced to dust.* In the parks many oaks were rent asunder and uprooted ; mills with their millers, sheepfolds with their shepherds, and hus. bandmen in the fields, were, by the same awful storm, beaten to the earth and destroyed. The year, however, closed, more auspiciously than it commenced, with the espousals of the princess Margaret, the eldest daughter of Henry and Eleanor, then in her tenth year, to the young king of Scotland, Alex- ander III., who was about twelve. The nuptials were cele- brated with great pomp at York, where the royal families of England and Scotland kept their Christmas together. The youthful bridegroom was knighted by king Henry in York cathedral, on Christmas-day, in the presence of the * A foreign histoiian declares that the language of the English was in this reign as barbarous as their manners. To add to other disquiets, there was a regular confusion of tongues, as in England no man rightly understood lis neighbour. It was a mark of nobility and gentle breeding for people to converse in Norman-French, or in Provencal ; and many affected these languages who knew them not. All the queen's court spoke Proven9al : the law acknowledged no language but Norman-French ; the church nothing but Latin ; the pt>ople a corrupted Saxon : therefore, in addition to her other misfortunes, poor England had to endure the plagues of the tower of Babel, " Some," says a contemporary ivriter, " use strange gibbering, chattering, waflfing, and gniting ; then the Northumbres tongue (and eepc'ially at York) is so sharp, flitting, froyting, and uushape, that we Southron men may not imdcrstand that languagi;."-Trevii>a. Here we see the different elements, out of wliich rose our English language, in an actual state of struggle and ferment. The long alliance wiih Provence certainly threw into the composition of the rising language its share of harmony and elegance, and the long reign of Eleanor of Provence, and her constant communi- cation with her own coimtry, aided this transfusion. It is a curious cirfumstance, that the proclamations to pi-eserve the king's peace, or at least to make tlie endeavour, had to be read in tlxree languages, — Sivxon, French, and Latin. ' Stowe. TXisn ELEANOR OE PROVENCE. 377 whole court, and the next morning the marriage was solemnized lit an early horn'. Henry endeavoured to persuade the young Alexander to pay hira homage for the realm of Scotland ; but the princely boy excused himself with good address from the performance of tliis important cer«. »i^ony,' by replying, that " He came to York to be married, not to discuss an aftair on which he, being a minor, could determine nothing without consulting the states of his kingdom." Henry, finding his son-in-law was of so determined a spirit, could not find it in Ills heart to break up the nuptial festivities by insisthig on liis demand, especially as the archbishop of York had generously promised to be at the expense of all the entertainment, which cost him upwards of four thousand marks, " and six hmidred oxen, which," says Matthew Paris, "were all consumed at one meal."' More worthy of remembrance, however, than these enormous devourings of the hospitable archbishop's beef, does the worthy chronicler consider the dignified and princely conduct of the youthful majesty of Scotland at his bridal feast, and the amiable manner in which he supplicated, on his knees, with clasped hands, to his royal father-in-law for the pardon of Philip Lovel, one of his ministers, who lay under the king's heavy displeasure at that time. The royal bride joined in the petition, kneehng with her newly-wedded lord at her father's feet, and hanging on his garments. Henry was so moved by the artless earnestness of their supplications, as to be only able to articidate one word, " Willingly ;" and all who sat at the feast melted into tears of tenderness and admiration. The object for whom these interesting pleaders used such powerful intercessions was an unworthy peculator, convicted of receiving bribes in the discharge of his office ; nevertheless, the misjudging sovereign was persuaded^ by the engaging prattle of two inexperienced children, to invest him Avith the tempting office of treasurer. No doubt the royal supplicants had received their cue from the queen, or some person who possessed the means of influencing them, to make an appeal ' Chronicles of Mailros. * Matthew Paris. Speed. iff I S if. 8 HI , i; . , [•, ', &■ ' u 378 ELEANOB OF PROVENCE. in favour of Lovel, for it is veiy improbable that, at tlielr tender age, they would have thought of him at such a time. The extravagance of dress at these nuptials has been noted by many writers. Matthew Paris declares the nobility Averc arrayed in vests of silk called 'cointoises/ or 'quintises ' and the day after the nuptial ceremony the queen of England and lier ladies laid these new robes aside, and appeared clad in others still moi-e costly, and of a new pattern. The robes guintises, thus named to express their fanciful quaintness, were upper, or super-tunics, with no sleeves, or very short ones bordered with vandyking or scolloping, worked and notched in various patterns ; scarfs were woni by knights a la quintke meaning that they were ornamented with a notched border. Tlie quintise robe was worn by queen Eleanor so long, before and behind, as to trail on the ground, and was held up \ritli one hand, lest her steps should be impeded. The Roman do la Rose, speaking of these garments first worn by Eleanor and her court, counsels the ladies, if their feet and ankles be not small and delicate, to let their robes fall on the pavement and hide them; whilst those whose feet are of a beautiful form may hold ^lp the robe In front, for the convenience of stepping along briskly. He uncivilly compares the ladies to pies and peacocks, which, he says, " dehght in feathei-s of vaiious colours : so do our couii; ladies. The pies have long tails that train in the dirt, but the ladies make their tails a thousand times longer than the peacocks and the pies," The costume of the portrait illustrating this biogi-aphy is that worn on high festivals by the queens of England in the thirteenth century. The style of art of the original is much ruder than that of any of our preceding portraits, being from a painted glass window which some years since formed pait of the Strawberry-Hill collection. Lord Ashburnham pre- sented it to Horace Walpole, who considered that tliis was the only resemblance of Eleanor of Provence extant. The original was contemporary with the reign of Henry IH.. and came from the church of Bexhill, in Sussex. The armorial emblazonments below that and the companion picture, prove if.* ELEANOR OF rROVENCE. 379 that they were intended to represent Eleanor and lier consort Ileniy III.' The head of the queen is encircled with the open gothic crown of floriated trefoils, siumounting a rich band of gems. The royal mantle has a low collar or small cape round the neck, fastening in front with a square fermoir of gems and wrought gold ; the mantle is bordered with an elegant gold lace of a scale pattern. The close gown fitting to the shape is of gold diapered brocade ; the sleeves are cut very deep on the hands, which they nearly cover, a peculiarity pertaining to the era of Eleanor of Provence. The artist has bestowed some pains on the delineation of the queen's portrait, as far as the bust, but the rest of the figure is dis- proportionate and diminutive, like most of the di'awings on glass in the mediaeval ages. The felicity which the king and queen enjoyed in the cele- bration of their daughter's union with the Scottish king, was interrupted by the return of Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, who had passed six years in a sort of honourable banishment as governor of Gascony. Deputies had been sent from that provin.^e with complaints of Leicester's tyrannical conduct, and he, having succeeded in refuting the charges of his Gascon foes, proceeded to call upon the king to reward him for his services, reminding him of his royal promise to that effect. Henry, with infinite scorn, replied, that " He did not consider himself obhged to keep his word with a traitor." Leicester fiercely told the sovereign " He lied ; and were he not his king, he would make him eat his words ;" adding, " that it was scarcely possible to beUeve he was a Cluistian, or ever had made confession of his sins." — "Yes," replied the king, " I am a Christian, and have often been at confes- sion."- "What signifies confession," retorted the earl, "without repentance ?" — " I never repented of any thing so much in my hfe/' rejoined the insulted monarch, " t;s having bestowed fa- vours on one who has so little gratitude and such ill manners."^ ' Anecdotes of Pointing, by Horace Walpole. Both figures are very coarsely engraved as the frontispiece of that work j Mr. Harding copied the present from tlie original in the stained gbvss. ■ i-! /XjJknxi UiHAMiiu- 2 Matthew Pariisi ! w..r>i| r- : -^iur IM tt. ,1 i I- M i '■ i 880 ELKANOR OF PROVENCE. P-', } ( After tills cl»ara('teri8tic diuloj^ie, tlicrc was nothing but Imtred between the kuij; and his insolent brother-in-law. To add to the troubles of the khig and queen at this junc. turc, even so late as the year 1252, the vaUdity of his niarriu<'o with Eleanor was perpetually agitated at the eourt of Jloine owing to the king's caprieious breach of promise with tlie countess of Ponthieu;' and this year he was forced to obtain buUs, at a great expense, from pope Innocent, declaring the contract of the king of England with Joanna (who hud hcen long married to the king of Castile) null and void, and his marriage with Eleanor of Provence good nuitrimony. In ^ little time we shall see the heir of Ilenry and the young daughter of Joanna enter into wedlock. Henry's temper now became so irascible, that he quiurelled with his best friends; he was more extortionate than ever, and demanded of the clergy a tenth of their revenues, towards the expenses of a projected crusade. He sent for the bishop of Ely, mIio appeared to have great influence with his bretliren, and endea- voured by flattering caresses to secure liis interest ; but when that conscientious prelate attempted to reason with him on the folly of his conduct, Heiu-y angrily retorted, that "he did not want any of his counsels •" and ordered his officers " to turn him out of doors for an ill-bred fellow as he was."- Louis IX. of France, and the gallant retinue by whom he had been attended on his ill-starred expedition to Palestine, were at this time languishing in the most doleful captivity, and the flower of the French cliivalry had fallen victims either to the pestilence or the sword. Eleanor talked of accora- panying her feeble-minded lord in a crusade for their deliver- ance; but it was not probable that she would abandon her painted chambers and jewelled pomp, to expose herself to the peril of hardships ami privation like those which her sister was suffering at Damietta. The queen w.as this year again in imminent danger fiom a thunder-storm; slie was with her children visiting the abbey of St. Alban's, when lightning struck the cliimney of her chamber, and shivered it to pieces. * Fowlera, vol. i. * M. Paris. li^l ELEANOR OF mOVENCE. 881 Tlic abboy-laiuulry burst into flames ; while nueh a commotion was raised by the elements, that the kind's chief-justice, (who was escorting two trejisure-carts, and bad accepted hospitality at the abbey,) thinking the whole stinicture wan devoted to (Icstniction, rushed forth into the highway with two friars, and as tliey went, tliey fancied a flaming torch or a drawn sfford preceded them.' The same summer Henry made preparations for eo-ng in person to quell the formidable revolt in Guienne, occjisioned by the recall of the eail of Leicester and the misgovernment of prince Edward, who had been appointed as h's successor in the fourteenth year of his age. Queen Eleanor, being near her confinement, did not accompany the king, but was solemnly invested by her departing lord with the regency o( the kingdom, jointly with his brothei*, Rieluird earl of Comwtdl, the husband of her sister Sancha of Provence. Wliile Henry vas waiting in the neighbourhood of Portsmouth for a favour- able wind, he made his will, which is a very interesting docu- ment, affording proof of his affection for his queen, and the unbounded confidence wliich he reposed in her. IIenby the Thiud'3 Will,'' " I, Henry king of England, duke of Normandy and AquJtaine, and carl of Anjoii, on the Tuesday after St. Peter and St. Paid, in the year ol" grace 1253, at Southwick,^ proi>o8ing to go to Qascony, I make my will in the form following : — 1 will that my body bo buried in the churd of \} blessed Edward of Westminster, tliere being no iniinsdimcnt, — having f' ^rly m jwinted my bmly to be buried in the New Temple of London. I oonuuit the guai-^anship of Edwai-d, my eldi'Ht ion and heir, and of my other cU>. riu and of my kingdom of England, imd all my other lands in Wales, and lix'licul, and Guscony, to my illustrious qncoii Eleanor, nntil they arrive at full a««. Also, I bequeath the cross which the countess of Kent gave mo, to tho small altar of the aforesaid chun-h of West- minster." Though he hved many years after, Hemy never made another will. Attended by the greater number of his baious, king Henry sailed from Portsmouth, August 6th: Ik ii-ived at Boiu'deaux on the 15th of the same month, and took the command of his army in person. On the 25tli of November Eleanor gave birth to a daughter ' Hist, of the Abbey of St. Alban's. * Nicoltos's Teiitameuta Vetusta. •* A Qouveut near Portsmouth. ¥ II' ! H n i^^^iwyitf^B. m l'§ T- f ffH "^i 382 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. in London, who was christened with great pomp by the arch- bishop of Canterbury, the queen's uncle. That primate also stood godfather for the infant princess, and bestowed upon her the name of Katherine, because she was bom on St. Katherine's-day. She died very young, and was buried in Westminster-abbey by her two brothers, Richard and John the third and fourth sons of Henry and Eleanor, who had preceded her to the tomb. These royal children repose in the space between the chapels of St. Edward and St. Bene't.' 1 Speed. '!'l.> -"' I. ' if: A i A'lk^L/^jJ/i '■-^% .V( :'.'■ I- ,"'-• II : ',1, r I ELEANOR OF PROVENCE, SURNAMED LA BELLE, QUEEN OP HENRY III. m VA CHAPTER II. Eleanor's regency — Great seal of England left in her hands — TJnkwftil exactions — Disputes \vith city of London — Assemblies of parliament — Her New-year's gift to tlie king — Goes to Guienne — Her son's nuptials — Feast of kings — Lands in England — Vengeance on the Londoners — Eleanor attends the king to the north — Her sickness at Wark-castle — Court at Woodstock — Death of princeSii Katharine — Folly of the king — Queen's unpopular conduct — Garrisons Windsor — Prince Edward robs the Templars — Queen pledges jewels — Pelted from London-bridge — Takes sanctuary — Goes to France with the king — Civil war — King and prince taken at Lewes — Queen raises forces on the continent — Battle of Evesham — Londoners fined — Her return to England — Prince Edward's crusade — Household fflcpenses of the queen — Death of Henry III. — Eleanor's widowhood — Refounds St. Katherine's hospital — Death of Eleanor's daughters — Royal letters — Queen retires to Ambresbury — Miracle by Henry III. — Eleanor takes the veil Visited by king Edward — His dutiful respect — Her death — Petition of Jewish converts. When Henry III. appointed Eleanor regent of England, he left the great seal in her custody, but enclosed in its casket, sealed with the impression of his own privy seal, and with the signets of his brother, Richard earl of Cornwall, and others of his council. It was only to be opened on occasions of extreme lu-gency. Eleanor was directed to govern by the advice of her royal brother-in-law, but the regal power was vested in her ; and we find that pleas were holden before her and the king's council, in the court of Exchequer, during H n \'\ i^'l^ * ! y \ I :< I 'ft £ 384 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. Henry's absence in Gascony. " At this time," says Madox ' " the queen was custos regni, and sat vice regis "^ We have thus an instance of a queen-consort performing, not only tho functions of a sovereign, in the absence of the monarch, but acting as a judge in the highest court of judicature, curia regis. There can be no doubt but this princess took her seat on the King's-bench.'' No sooner had queen Eleanor got the reins of empire in her own hands, unrestrained by the counterbalancing power of the great earl of Leicester, who had volunteered liis services to king Henry against the Insurgent Gascons, than she pro- ceeded to play the sovereign in a more despotic manner, in one instance at least, than had ever been attempted by the mightiest monarch of the Norman hue. Remembering her former disputes with the city of London, she now took the opportunity of gratifying her revenge and covetousuess at the same time, by demanding of their magistrates the payment of a large smn, which she insisted they owed her for aurum regim, or queen-gold, — a due which the queens of England were entitled to claim on every tenth mark paid to the king, as voluntary fines for the royal good-will in the renewals of leases on crown lands, or the granting of charters. Eleanor, in this instance, most unreasonably demanded her queen-gold on various enormous fines that had been uiunghteously and vexatiously extorted by the king from the plundered mer- chants and citizens of London. For the non-payment of this unjust claim, Eleanor, in a very summary manner, committed the sheriffs of London, Richard Picard and John de North- ampton, to the ]Mai'shalsea prison, in the year 1254;^ and the same year she again committed them, together with Richard Hardell, draper, the mayor, to the same prison, for arrears of an aid towards the war in Gascony. Tliese arbi- ' Madox, History of Exchequer, chap. ii. p. 47. * History of the Excheciuer : Judicature of the king's Coui't. • Placitii coram donuiia rejjina et coiisilio domini regis in criustmo nutivltatij Be. Maria-, anno 37, Hun, III. — Ex cedula Eotulor. anui illius penes Thcs, et Caineraj. Rot. 1. 4. * Stowe. Harrison. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 385 tjary proceedings of the queen-regent were regarded with indignant astonishment in a city governed by laws pecuhar to itself, — London being, in fact, a repubhc within a monarchy, whose privileges had hitherto been respected by the most despotic sovereigns. It had been hoped that Richard earl of Cornwall, Eleanor's coadjutor in the delegated regal power, would have restrained her from such reckless abuse of the authority with which she had been invested by her absent lord; but since his marriage with her sister, that prince had ceased to oppose the queen in any of her doings. Thus the queen md the countess of Cornwall made common cause, con- triving to govern between them the kkig and his brother, and through them the whole realm, according to their own pleasure. Early in the year, Eleanor received instructions from the king to summon a parhament, for the purpose of demanding aid for carrying on the wai" in Gascony. But finding it im- possible to obtain this grant, queen Eleanor sent the king five hundred marks from her own private cofiers, as a New-year's gift, for tli'^ : i diate relief of his more pressing exigencies.* Henry then :1- ^.e-ed his brother to extort from the luckless Jews the sum requii-ed for the ntiptial festivities of his heir. As soon as Henry received the ghtt^ring fruits of this iniquity, he sent for Eleanor, to assist him in squandering away the supply in the Ught and vain expenses in which they mutually dehghted, likewise to grace with her presence the bridal of their eldest son, prince Edward.^ Eleanor, who loved power well, but pleasiu*e better, on this welcome summons resigned the cares of government to the earl of Cornwall ; and with her sister, tlie countess of Cornwall, her second son, prince Edmund, and a courtly retinue of ladies, knights, and nobles, sailed from Portsmouth on the 15th of May, and, landing at Bourdeaux, was joyfully welcomed by her husband and their heir, prince Edwai'd, whom she had not seen for upwards of a year. She crossed the Pyrenees with her son, and having assisted at the solemnization of his nuptials with the infanta Eleanora of Castile, returned with the royal bride and bridegroom to king Henry, who was waiting for their arrival at 1 >! Stowe's Annals. 8 M. Paris. VOL. I. C C ■:?<:- • r s i- i I' ! n.^ ^1 i I it Hi -N I.!! 386 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. %.ti : I 1 1 i ;o W ■^'M Bourdeaiix. Instead of sailing from thence to England, the queen persuaded Henry to accept the invitation of St. Louis, her Lrother-in-law, to pass some days at his court with their train. At Chartres, Eleanor enjoyed the pleasure of embracing her sister, the queen of France, who, with king liouis and their nobles, there met and welcomed their royal guests, and conducted them wit! all due pomp to Paris.' Here Louis assigned the palace of the old Temple for the residence of his royal guests; a domicile that could almost fiimish accommoda- tions for an army. The morning after their arrival Henrv distributed very abundant alms among the Parisian poor, and made a splendid entertainment for the relatives of his queen which was, in memory of its magnificence and the number of crowned heads present, called 'the feast of kings." Con- temporary clu-oniclers declai'e that neither Ahasuerus, Arthur nor Charlemagne ever equalled this feast in any of their far- famed doings. King Henry sat at table on the 'right hand of the king of France, and the king of Navarre on the left. King Louis, with the princely courtesy and meekness which so much characterized the royal saint of France, contended much that the king of England should take the place of honour ; but Henry refused to do so, alleging that the king of France was his suzerain, in allusion to the lands which he held of him as a vassal peer of France ; on which Louis, in acknowledgment of the compliment, softly rejoined, " Woidd to God that every one had his rights without offence !"^ At this memorable entertainment, queen Eleanor enjoyed the happiness of a reunion with her four sisters and tlieir children, and her mother, the countess of Provence. Michelet states, that the three elder daughters of the count of Provence being queens, they made their youngest sister, Beatrice, sit on a stool at their feet, — hence her extreme desire to be the wife of a king. However, it was the law of royal etiquette, and not any personal act of her sisters, which placed Beatrice on the tabouret instead of the throne. After the royal family of T^n-ir ' M. Paris. M. Westminster. ^ M. Paris, ' M. Pnris, The king of France alluded to the detention of Normandy and Aiyou, the iuheritunce of the house of Plantagenet. 1 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 887 England had received, during a sojourn of eight days in Paris, all the hoT' •■'* which the power of the king and the wealth of the fair reaJm of France could bestow, they took their leave of these pleasant scenes. The king and court of France accompanied them one day's journey, Eleanor and her hus- band landed at Dover on the 5th of January, 1255, and on the 27th made their pubhc entry into London mth extra- ordinary pomp. They received a present of a hundred pounds sterling, which the citizens of London were accustomed to give on such occasions; but as Henry did not seem satisfied, a rich piece of plate of exquisite workmanship was added, which pleased, but certainly did not content, this most acquisitive of all our monarchs ; since, a few days after, he extorted a fine of three thousand marks from them, on the frivolous pretence of the escape of a priest from Newgate^ who was apcused of murder. It was very evident to the citizens that Eleanor had not forgotten their resistance of her illegal exactions, for much strife ensued regarding her claims.* Eleanor, who was probably ambitious of being the mother of as many crowned heads as those by whom she had seen the coimtess of Provence proudly surrounded at the feast of kings^ was much elated at the pope sending her second son, prince Edmund, then about ten years old, a ring, whereby he pro- fessed to invest him with the kingdom of Sicily. But the delight of king Henry at the imaginary preferment of his lavomitc son exceeded all bounds. He caused a seal to be made, Avith the effigies of the young prince enthroned, bearing the sceptre and orb of sovereignty, and crowned with the royal diadem of Sicily .^ Henry was only deterred from rushing into a war for the purpose of establishing the imaginary claims ' In addition to this imposition, Henry forced the Londoners to pay fourpence a-iLiy for the mainteniince of a white bear which he kept in the Tower of London, lumng six yeai-s previously commanded the sherifl's of London to provide a muzzle, an iron chsun, and a cord for the use of the said loyal pet, while ilshirg i.i the rivor Thames. Herry appears to have had a mighty predilection for wild beasts. The menagerie at the Tower was formed in his reign, commencing with three leopards, wliich lus brother-in-law, the emperor, presented to him. Then he had an elephant, wliicli was so highly prized by him, that on it-s decease he issued a writ to the constable of the Tower, " to deliver the bones of the elephant lately buried in the Tower-ditch to the sacrwtaa of Wee-t'.ninstcr, to make thereof what he hivu enjoined him to do." ^ gpeed. c c 2 ^ ? t . t . i ! !l ■ ■ ',t if- m { m: hi' [! I ',' 383 ELEANOR OP PROTnENCE. of his boy to this dignity, by the necessity of rendering Us paternal succour to the kinj. md queen of Scots, queen Eleanor having been informed that they were deprived of royal power and kept in close confinement by the regents, sir John Baliol and the Comyns, who were the next heirs to the Scottish crown. The maternal anxiety of the queen beinff very painftdly excited by these reports, she privately despatched her physician, a person in whose sagacity she could confide into Scotland, to learn the real situation of her daughter. This trusty agent ascertained that the king and queen of Scots were both imprisoned in the castle of Edinburgh, but in separate apartments ; and having succeeded in gaining a secre*^^ interview with the young queen, she gave him a lament- able account of her treatment ever since her marriage,— " Having been rudely torn," sho said, " from her royal hus- band, and kept apart from him in a doleful damp place, the bad air of which had seriously injured her health ; and so far from having any share in the government, they were treated with the utmost conttimely,and were in daily peril of their lives." When these alarming tidings reached queen Eleanor she was greatly distressed in mind, and herself accompanied king Henry on a campaign wliich, at her earnest entreaty, he undertook for the dehverance of their son-in-law and daughter; but before the earl of Gloucester, whom Henry had sent on a special embassy to Scotland, could forward news of his mission, Eleanor's trouble of mind brought on a violent illness, and she was confined to her bed at Wark-castle, with small hopes of her hfe.* At last tidings came that Gloucester and Mansel * There is among the Tower records a letter from Henry, daterl by the ! should move his lies for his darlins o be attired in the le opening of the ith the following 1 Edmund, Avhom the excellency of Hs he of all your tliey be, who, at sonable help, both tnith to tell, the rged the king not ng people on such firm in folly as he Paris. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 391 ^as unstable in well-doing, pertinaciously returned to the charge, notwithstanding the strange insensibility manifested by the peers to the comeUness of the young prince and the picturesque beauty of his Sicilian dress, for which the royal sire, in the fond weakness of paternal vanity, had condescended to bespeak the admiration of the stern assembly. The aid was finally obtained through the interference of the pope's legate, but on condition that the sovereign should consider himself bound by the Oxford statutes. The object of those statutes was to reduce the power of the crown witliin moderate limits. One day, as the sovereign was proceeding by water to the Tower, he was overtaken by a tremendous thunder-storm, and in great alarm bade the boatman push for the first stairs, for- getting in his fright that they belonged to Durham-house, where Leicester then dwelt. The earl, with unwelcome courtesy, came to receive his royal brother-in-law as he landed from the boat, telling him, at the same time, " not to be alarmed, as the storm was spent." — " I am beyond mea- sure afraid of thunder and lightning; but, by the head of God ! I feai' thee more than all the thunder in the world," rephed Henry, with as fierce a look as he could assume.' To which Leicester mildly rejoined, " My lord, you are to blame to fear your only tiue and firm fiiend, whose sole desire it is to preserve England from ruin, and yourself from the destruc- tion which your false counsellors are preparing for you." Henry, far from confiding in these professions, took the eai'hast opportunity of leaving the kingdom, to seek assistance from the foreign connexions of his queen. In his absence, the king and queen of Scots arrived at Windsor-castle, on a visit to queen Eleanor. A few days after Henry's return, John duke of Bretagne came over to wed the princess Beatrice.- The earl of Leicester allowed the king and quec -.mple suppHes for the entertainment of these illustrious guests.^ The court at Windsor had never been more numerously attended, or more magnificently appointed, than on this occasion; but there was a pervading gloom on the mind of the royal parents, which the presence of their eldest daughter and the marriage ' (III I 1 t I: li! • t I * M. Paris. 3 T. Wikes. Eapin. hIII \li^ ^-'i 392 ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. of the second failetl to dissipate. Tlie youug queen of Scot- land passed the whole winter with her mother at Windsor- castle, where she lay in of a daughter. The state of Henry's mind just before the outbreak of tlie barons' war is apparent from liis issuing directions to his painter master Williams, a monk of Westminster, to paint a picture for him of ' a king rescued by his dogs from an attack made upon him by his subjects/ Pluhp Lovel, the king's treasiu-er, is ordered by this precept, which was issued in the fortieth year of Henry's reign, to disburse to the said master Williams the ftdl cliarges and expenses of executing this picture; which is directed to be placed in the wardrobe of Westminster, where the king was accustomed to wash his head. At this period the king and queen chiefly confined themselves within one or other of the royal fortresses of ""Aindsor or the Tower, wliich he had fortified with additional defences to stajjd a siege. After Henry had violated the provisions of Oxford, he took up his residence in the Tower of London, while Eleanor remained with a strong garrison to keep Windsor. In 1261 died the queen's sister, Sancha countess of Com- wall rnd queen of the Romans, for whom the king and queen made great lamentations, and gave her a magnificent funeral. In that year the royal party gained such strength, that the earl of Leicester found it most prudent to withdraw to the continent. Prince Edward returned to England, to guard the realm while king Henry went to Gascony, where liis presence was required, and where he feU sick of a quartan ague, which detained him there during the autumn. WTiile prince Edward was carrying on the war against the Welch, Leicester's party became more formidable, and in 1262 that mighty agitator returned almost at the same time with the king, to whom he caused the barons to present an address requiring him to confirm the Oxford statutes, adding a defiance to all who opposed them, the king, the queen, and their royal children excepted. This exception may be regarded, all things considered, as a very remarkable piece of civility on the part of the reforming barons of the 13th century. One of the most influential of these was Roger Bigod, earl of Norfollc and 1^' queen of Scot- ;r at Windsor- utbreak of the s to his painter, paint a picture m attack made iiig*8 treasurer, in tlie fortieth aaster "Williams picture; which tminster, where At this period, 8 within one or e Tower, which I stajjd a siege. ford, he took up leaner remained untess of Corn- king and queen niticent funeral. ength, that the nthdraw to the nd, to guard the Bre his presence tan ague, which war against the )lc, and in 1262 siune time with isent an address dding a defiance and tlieir royal arded, all things lity on the part One of the . of Norfolli and ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. 893 Suffolk, to whom in angry parlance king Henry said, " What, sir earl I are you so hold with me, whose vasssd peer you are? Could I not issue my royal warrant for thrashing out all your com?" — " Ay," retorted the earl, " and could I not in return send you the heads of the tlu-ashers?"' Bold men would they have been who had ventured to under- take that office. A striking instance of the disregard of all moral restraints among the high and mighty in that reign of miser)', may be seen in the lawless robbery committed by the heir-apparent of the realm on the treasury of the knights Templars, in the year 12G3. Those military monks, it is well known, were not only the masters of great M^ealth, but acted as bankers and money-brokers to all Europe, lending sums on rich pledges at usmious interest. Queen Eleanor, at the commencement of the troubles in which her reckless counsels had involved the king, had pawned her jewels to this fraternity. On the return of prince Edward from his victorious campaign in Wales, finding himself without the means of disbursing the arrears of pay which he owed the troops, and unwilling to dis- hand men whom he foresaw his father's cause would require, marched straightway to the Temple, and told the master that it was his pleasure to see the jewels of the queen his mother, as he understood they were not safely kept. On this excuse he entered the treasury, and broke open the coffers of many persons who had lodged their money and pledges for security in the hands of the Templars, and seized ten thousand pounds sterling, principally belonging to the citizens of London, which, together mth the queen's jewels, he carried off to the royal fortress of Windsor." A few months afterwards the queen pa^vned these jewels a second time to her sister's husband, the king of France; that monarch, probably, regarding the robbery of the Templars as a very small sin.' Aupjiistine. Rapin. Harrison's ' M. Paris. ^ Clironiclo of Dunmow. Annals of St. Survey of London, &c. cicc. ' For Louis had pormittcd his uttarhcd friend and follower, the lord de Joinville, who trlmiiphantly records the fact in his chronicle of the crusade, to break o\)cn the treasure-cheats of this wealthy fraternity of the church-militant at Damietta with a sledge-hammer, and take from thence the sum required to malie up his raiwora.— Joinville's Chronicle ; Vie de St. Louis ( t' I f 1 1 ! 1 i j i tl :' I i -I I.- a n tl.- 394 ELEANOR OF I'ROVENCE. Ii • i !f . .#1 ''J, -^ II The active part taken by queen Eleanor and her eldest son in the niisnuinaj^ement of the king's attairs at this critical period, is rcci^rdcd by Matthew Paris, who is certainly a ere- dible witness, and one who had eveiy means of infonnation on the 8u])ject ; since, from the preat respect in which his talents were lield by kinj? Henry, he was invited to dine at the royal table overy day, and, as I himself states, freqiujutlv wrote in the presence and from tlie dictation of the kiii},'. Neither Henry nor Eleanor were probably aware how oft that sly monk took notes of their foolish sayings and evil doiiifjs, for the example of distant generations; enriching his chro. nicle, moreover, with many a choice juiecdote, illustrative of the jjcrsonal history of royalty in the thirteenth centiuy. Robert of Gloucester, a contemporary thus notices the pro- ceedings of the queen, and prince Edward's political ophiioiis; " The q\ieen wont beyond sea, tho king's brctlircn also, And ever tliey strove the charter to inido; They purchased that the pojie Hhould iwsoil, I wig, Ot' the oath, and tho cliarter, and the king, and all his. It wiw ever tliu queen's thought (as much us she could think) To break the charter by some woman's wrenche ;' And though sir Edward proved a hardy knight and gooil, Yet this same elmrter was little to his mood." Many indeed were the wiles and evasions, very inconsistent with the stem and soldier-like plaiimess of his char;i('tcr iji after life, wliich were practised by the valiant heir of ]']n;^4;uid, while acting under the influence of his insincere mother, in the hope of circumventing the barons by fraud, if not by force. In this year, notwithstanding the reluctance of the queen/ king Henry was induced to sign an amicable airangement with the barons, by which he bound himself to confirm the provi- sions of Oxford. Tliis agreement, Avhich might have averted the storm of civil strife, was regarded with fierce impatience by some of the destructives of the thirteenth centmy, who, eager for plunder and atliirst for blood, finding they were likely to be disappointed in the object wliich had led them to rank themselves on the side of the reforming barons * Pronounced wrenk, meaning twisting or wrenching the words of liagiia Charta from their clear and simple signification. 2 M= Westminster. ?!''' ■-:!' ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 395 and their great dictator Montfort, raised a dreadful uproar in London against the unhappy Jews, whose wealth excited their envy and cupidity. T. Wikes, a contemporary chronicler, thus details the particulars of this tumult, which was the prelude to a personal attack upon the queen : — At the sound of St. Paul's gnuit bell a numerous mob sallied forth, led on by Stephen Huckrcll, the marshal of London, and John Fitz-Jolm, a powerful baron. They killed and plundered many of these wretched people without mercy. The ferocious leader, John Fitz-John, ran through with lus sword, in cold blood, Kokben Abraham, the wealthiest Hebrew resident in London. Besides plundering and killing five hundred of this devoted race, the mob turned the rest out of their beds, undressed as they Avere, keeping them so the whole night. The next morning they commenced the work of plunder with such outrageous yells, that the queen, who was then at the Tower, seized with mortal terror, got into her barge with many of her great ladies, the wives and daughters of the noblest, intending to escape by water t* Windsor-castle. But the raging populace, to whom she hau rendered herself most obnoxious, as soon as they observed the rryal barge on the river, made a general rush to the bridge, crying, " Drown the witch ! — drown the witch !" at the same time pelting the queen with mud, addressing the most abusive language to her, and endeavouring to sink the vessel by hurling down blocks of wood and stone of an enormous weight, which they tore from the unfinished buildings of the bridge. The poor ladies were pelted with rotten eggs and sheep's bones, and every thing vile.' If the q\vm had per- sisted in shooting the arch, the boat must have been swamped, or her vessel dashed to pieces by the formidable missiles that were aimed at her person. As it was, she with difficulty escaped the fury of the assailants by returning to the Tower. Not considering herself safe there, she took sanctuary at night in the bishop of London's palace at St. Paul's, whence she was privately removed to Windsor-castle, where prince Edward kept garrison with his troops. This high-spirited prince never * Matthew of Westminster. Wikcs. Speed. Rapio. !! ; i 396 ELEANOB OF PROVENCE. forgave the Londoners for the insult they had thus offered to his mother.' \< Though Eleanor had been a most unprincipled plunderer of the Jews, whenever opportunity sei-ved, she was accused of patronising them, because great numbers of them had flocked into England at the time of her marriage with king Henry, the Proven9al princes having always grante 1 toleration to this people. Eleanor never forgot her terror at London-bridge which had the effect of hurrying forward the civil war. The epithets of witch and sorceress, which were liberally bestowed on the queen by her enemies from the bridge, must have originated from a strange story, preserved in the French Chronicle of Iiondon ; and however absurd the narrative may be, there is Httle doubt that it was purposely circulated among the ignorant populace by the opponents of the court, to excite a ciy against the queen. The story commences by stating that Henry III., having admired the fairest damsel in the world, the queen took her privately and put her to death, by the assistance of some old sorceresses with whom she was leagued, who poisoned her with toads. At the end of the story the girl is called Rosamond, and the king described as bmying her with great grief at Godstow.' The enemies of the queen had not even taken the trouble to invent a new story to enrage the Londoners against her. Although the tale is a barefaced and evident falsehood, yet, from the antiquity of the work in which it is cited, there can be no doubt that it wa? a scandal raised among the Londoners to her injury. At the time when the barons had agreed to refer their grievances to the arbitration of St. Louis, the brother-in-law of the queen, king Her.^ took Eleanor with him to France, and left her there in October 1264, with her children, at the court of her sister Marguerite. The decision of St. Louis, though really a rational one, did not satisfy the barons, who protested against it on the grounds of family partiality, and England was forthwith involved in the * Matthew of Westminster, in his Flowers of Hifitory, details this outrage with •ome spirit, in the Latin of the cloiat«r. ' Tlie French Clironicle of London, edited by O. J. Aungier, from the Cottonian liv J, — ^t t<\1U\ »Jlft" i-tff / ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 897 from the Cottonian flames of civil war. After Henry had placed his adored queen in security, and taken a tender leave of her and her young children, he returned to England to encounter the storm, with more spirit and manliness than was usual to his character. On Passion-Sunday, Henry gained a great victory at North- ampton over the barons ; he took his rebellious nephew, the earl of Leicester's eldest son, prisoner, together with fourteen of the leading barons.' Henry used his victory with great moderation.' At the castle of Tunbridge the fair countess of Gloucester, the wife of one of the most inveterate of his foes, fell into his hands, but he generously set her at liberty, with the courteous remark, " that he did not war on ladies." This occasioned some scandal at the court of France, where it appears that either his loving consort Eleanor was afflicted with a fit of jealousy, or that queen Marguerite had taken alarm for her sister ; since, from among the records of the Wakefield tower, has been brought to light a curious letter from that queen on this subject.' The queen of France, with whom at this juncture queen Eleanor was residing, wrote to Henry III., her royal brother-in-law, thanking him for his mquiries after her health, and stating that, "though much desiring the society of her sister his queen, she would hasten her departure to him according to his request; because she feared that, on account of her long delay, he would marry some other lady, and that as long as the countess of Glou- cester remained in his vicinity, she should be impatient till she knew that her sister had joined him." These doubts and ' In tliis action, the insurgent students of Oxford, ilfbecn thousand in number, who fought under the banner of the university against the crown, were the most formidable of Henry's assailants. When victory declared in hia favour, the king would have inflicted a severe vengeance on them, had he not been deterred by lu8 counsellors, who, in a great fright, reminded him "that these bellicose students were the sons and kindred of the nobles and magnates ot the land, many of them the hemi of his own adlierents withal, who had been carried away by the evil example of their companions, or excited by the misdirected ardour ol youthful enthusiasm, to swell the ranks of the popular party (gainst him ; and if he slew them, their blood would be terribly revei-ged on Wm and his, even by those nobles who fought in his cause." 'Speed. * Calendar of the Royal Letters in the Wakefield tower. — Fourth Report of the deputy Keeper of the Records, p. 147- Tlie letter is without dats, bat this is the pried, we think, to which it belongs. ' * )1 tf i!l . i » If 398 ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. fears of tlie queen of France, lest the mild and much-endurinff Henry should take unto him a new spouse, are novel features in his domestic history. However, queen Marguerite's letter is evidently written in a vein of playfulness that few persons would look for at that era, and we should deem the whole a piece of badinage, if this same fair coimtess of Gloucester had not nearly excited a civil war by her coquetries with prince Edward some time afterwards. But that she should have made a deliberate attack *on the constant heart of the old king, in the absence of the queen, would seem incredible, were not the letter of the queen's sister indisputable. So weU had the royal cause prospered in the commencement of the struggle, that when the rival armies were encamped within six miles of each other, near Lewes, the barons sent word to the king, that* they would give him thirty thousand marks if he would consent to a pacification. Prince Edward, who was burning to avenge the insults which had been offered to the queen his mother, dissuaded Henry from accepting these terms, and the battle of Lewes followed. " The king and liis meinie were in the priorie, When Simon came to field and raised Iiis bannere ; He showed forth his shield, his dragon full austere : The king said on high, ' Simon, je vous defie !' " The battle of Lewes was lost through the reckless fury with which the fiery heir of England pursued the Hying Londoners, in order to avenge their incivility in pelting his mother at their bridge. He followed them with his cavalry, shouting the name of queen Eleanor, as far as Croydon, where he made a merciless slaughter of the hapless citizens. When he retmned to the field of battle with his jaded cavalry, he foimd his father, who had lost the support of all the horse, had been captm-ed, ^vith his unrV the king of the Romans, and Edward had no other resource than surrendering himself also to Leicester, who conveyed him, with his other royal prisoners, to the castle of Wallingford. The remnant of the royal army retreated to Bristol-castle, under the command of seven knights, who reared seven banners on the walls. The queen was said by some to be old Robert of Gloucester asserts that she i?„ :„ T?-„ a 'U.^4- SciiC ui i.'iuii(;c, uub II 3h-enduring ivel features te's letter is jrsons would le a piece of ter had not with prince should have t of the old jredible, were mmencement ;re encamped 3 barons sent lirty thousand rince Edward, d been offered ■cm accepting dess fury with ng Londoners, is mother at ;, shouting the !re he made a [en he returned kund his father, been captui-ed, Idward had no to Leicester, •s, to the castle ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 399 was espy^ in the land, for the purpose of liberating her brave son. Let this be as it may, she sent word to sir Warren de Basingboume, her son*s favourite knight and one of the gallant defenders of Bristol, " that WaJlingford was but feebly guarded, and that her son might be released, if he and the resf of the Bristol garrison would attack it by surprise/' Directly sir Warren received the queen's message, he, with three hundred horse, crossed the country, and arrived at WaUingford on a Friday, just as the sun rose, and, right against All Hallows' church, made the first fierce attack on the castle, and won the outermost wall. The besieged defended themselves furiously with cross-bows and battle engines: at last they called out to sir Warren, that " If they wanted sire Edward the prince, they should haye him, but bound hand and foot, and. shot from the mangonel," — a terrific machine used for casting stones. As soon as the prince heard of this murderous intention, he demanded leave to speak with his friends, and coming on the wall, assured them, " that if they persevered, he should be destroyed." Whereupon sir Warren and his chevaUers retired in great dejection. Simon de Montfort then transferred all his royal prisoners, for safer keeping, to Kenilworth-castle, where Edward's aunt, his countess, was abiding, and who offered them " all the solace she could." The queen, thus disappointed in the liberation of her gallant heir, soon after found a partisan in a lady strongly attached to her. This was lady Maud Mortimer. Lord Boger Mortimer had, much against' the wishes of his lady, given his powerful aid to Leicester ; but having received some afiront since the victory of Lewes, he now turned a complacent ear to the loyal pleadings of lady Maud in behalf of the queen and her son.'' \Vhat all the valour of sir Warren failed to accomphsh, the wit of woman effected. Lady Maud Mortimer having sent her instructions to prince Edward, he made his escape by riding races with his attendants tiU he had tired their horses, when he rode up to a thicket, where dame Maud had ambushed a swift steed. Mounting his gallant courser, Edward turned ■' \\l : ill' '5-iHI Concealed. * Robovt of Qioucester. '^- ^^v 400 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. Ml to his guard, and bade them " commend hun to his sire the king^ and tell him he would soon be at hberty/' and then galloped off; while an armed party appeared on the opposite liill, a mile distant, and displayed the banner of Mortimer. " Why should halt a long tale ? He off scaped so, To the castle of Wigmore the way soon he took ; • ^ - There was joy and bliss enow, when he came thither, , ,,,, To the lady of that castle, dame Maud de Mortimer." Eleanor had, soon after the disastrous field of Lewes, bor- rowfd all the money she could raise on her jewels and credit. When she heard of her son's escape, she proceeded to muster forces and equip a fleet. Matthew of Westminster does full justice to the energetic efforts of " this noble virago,'^ as he styles queen Eleanor, for the Uberation of her husband. " She succeeded,*' he says, " in getting together a great army, com. manded by so many dukes and earls as seemed incredible ; and those who knew the strength and power of that army affirmed, *' that if they had once landed in England, they would presently have subdued the whole population of the country ; but God in his mercy," continues the chronicler, " ordered it otherwise." The queen and her armament remained long wind-bound, and in the mean time Leicester encamped with his victorious army on Barham-downs, in readiness to attack her in the event of her attempting to land.* ,' i . .-m »:l > There are letters in the Foedera, written during Henry's captivity, addressed by him " to queen Eleanor, abiding in foreign parts," in which "he assures her of his health and comfort, and continued affection for her and their cliildren, and of his good hopes of a happy peace being soon established {through the blessing of God) in his dominions." These letters are, however, evidently written under the restraint and dicta- tion of the earl of Leicester, since the captive monarch desires, nay, commands the queen to "abstain froi .iny attempts to altcj the state of things, and charges her to exhort his heir not to interfere in any way against his wiU, which will be further explained by master Edward de Carol, the deacon of Wells, who is the bearer of these missives." They ai-e dated I Halsted'H Hist, of Kent. ^^ 0 his sire the f" and then 1 the opposite Mortimer. er. )f Lewes, bor- els and credit. jded to muster nster does full virago," as he ,ushand. "She eat army, com- ncffdible; and army affirmed, would presently mtry ; but God id it otherwise." ^d-bound, and victorious army in the event of during Henry's nor, abiding in his health and their cliildren, soon estabhshed " These letters •aint and dicta- lonarch desires, luy attempts exhort his heir ^ which Avill be d, the deacon of They ai-e dated ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 40i Windsor, 18th of November, 1264.* Eleanor, of course, paid no regard to the forced mandates of her unfortunate consort, but, like a faithful helpmate in the time of trouble, exerted all the energies of her nature for his deliverance. Possessing the pen of a ready writer, she addressed the most persuasive letters to Urban IV. and his legates, setting forth the zeal and obedience her husband had ev."ir shown to the church." She obtained buUs in favour of her party, which were of great service to the royal cause. While queen Eleanor remained wind-bound on the coast of France, the battle of Evesham was fought and won by her son, prince Edward. Leicester mistook prince Edward's army for that of his own son, Simon de Montfort, which the prince had intercepted and dispersed. When Leicester discovered hid error, he was struck with consternation, and exclaimed, " May the Lord have mercy on oiu* souls ! for our bodies are the prince's."' Leicester exposed his royal prisoner and former benefactor, king Henry, to the shafts of his own friends, by placing him in the front of the battle. Poor Henry was woimded with a javehn in the shoulder, and was in imminent danger of being slain by a royalist soldier, who, mistaking him for one of Leicester's party, would have cut him down, had he not cried out, in a lamentable voice, " Slay me not : I am Henry of Winchester, your king." An officer, hearing this, ran to his assistance, rescued him from his * Rymer's Foedera, vol. i. "^ Matthew of Westminster. ' Robert of (Jloucester, iu strains of rugged strength, hewails the death of Leicester, and descrlhes the singular darkness which overshadowed the fatal plain of Evesliam " while England's barons fought a field." " Such was the murthcr of Evesham, for battle none it was." Hi> proceeds to say, that the victory was much displeasing to the Savio^u who sent a token of his auger by a darkness over the middle earth, such as beieii when he died on the rood. I'or, " The while the good men at Evesham were slew, ■' ■ . ' In the north-west a dark weather arose, , ; Suddenly swart enow that many "i r egros, [terrified] And overca.st all through the land, that me might sea cely see, " "• • Grislier weather than it was might not on earth be j ,f . \ Few drops of rain fell, but they were large enow, Tokening well through the land, when these men were slew, ' ' ■■ ' ■ For thirty mile then. This I saw, (Roberd That first this book made,) and I was sorb afraid." VOL. I. D D III I If ^ tii i. i 1 ■] 40!* ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. I perilous situation, and brought him to prince Edward, who, grr^tinf; him with the 'enderest affection, knelt and implored kuj (»\o!iising ; and then, leaving a strong guard for his protec- tion, i^jursued his victorious career. ; ,,,, This battle was fought on the 4th of August, 12r>5_, fbiu-- teen months after the defeat and capture of the kiag at Lewcj. Though great provoca ion had been given to ih.e lh\^ and eveiy member of the royal family, there was not a s'nde drop of blood shed on the scaffold after tins decisive tiiumpli. Heiuy, with all his faults and fol-ies, wa;s tendei of human life,, and mindful that tlu?. noblest pverogati\t> of the crovm is mercy. Neither is it recorded of queen Eiernor that 8he ever caused a sanguinPiry veng(.'!vncc to ho inflicted on jrny of lier fbefi. King Henry, howevi r, m^de the T/>ri. dofwrs .-:5y pi'ettv dearly for the pdting the y had hesto^tod on the \if^ a >.l migh:/ lady, his companion.' His act of grace comji\en<.ey thub : — " Know ye, that in consideration of twenty ?:).ojsand maiks, paid to us by our citizens of Lc^adoa, as an atonement for their great crimes and misde- meunors against us, our royal consort, our royal brother, liit'Jiard kii;g of the Komans, and our dear sou Edward, that we have and do, by these our presents, lemit, forgive, acquit," &c. &c. This enormous fine was not paid into the king^s exchequer, every farthing of it being devoted to queen ' lie divested the city of its ancient charters, caused its postrf and chains to he taken away, and ordered the mayor, witli a party of the principal citizens, to att«Mid hini at Windsor, to confirxn the instrument of their own degradation by affixing the seal of the city to a written i'rm of their submission to the royal mercy. When they arrived at Windsor, tht y were treated vnth the utmost con- tumely by the offiairs of the royal household, aud committed to the custody of the constable of the castle, who shut them up in the keep till the followng day; wlien, as a great favour, they were bestowed in less alarming lodT:ings, except the mayor and four of the most obnoxious to the royal cause, who were deliveied to prince Edward, and by him subjected to a rigorous confinement till they had paid ransom for their own persons, and consented to petition the king to name a sum as the price of reconciliation with the city of London. Henry, not l)eiiig a prince to whom carte lla/nch; teniis could be offered with impunity, demanded the enormous fine of sixty thousand marks. But the lucldess citizens jjleadcd so movingly the impossibility of raising so unreasonable a su^i . •^'i*^hout invohniig in otter ruin many families who had been guiltlesis of all off< ^oinst him and the queen, that he was at length induced ti> moderate his d '< to twenty thou- sand marks. — H^... . 'son's Survey. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. ■ f >^-' 403 Eleanor's use, and by her desire it was transmitted to certain persons in Frnnce, who had supplied her with money at her need, during her exile from England.' As for Henry, he had a rich harvest of fines and confisca- tions, granted by his obliging parhament from the lands of the rebel barons. The " disinherited,^' as they were called, who were thus stripped of their patrimony, having nothing more to lose than their lives, raised a fresh revolt under the banner of Simon de Montfort, Leicester's eldest son by king Henry's sister. The consequences of this rebeUion were happily averted by the arrival of the queen, who landed at Dover, October 29th, 1266, bringing with her the pope's legate, cardinal Ottobone, whom she had induced to visit England, for the purpose of hurhng the anathema of the church against the rebel barons. Ottobone accordingly convened a synod, and solemnly excommimicated aU the ad- herents of the late earl of Leicester, whether Uving or dead, which had a wonderful effect in suppressing the insurrection. The discontented annalists of the era mention this event by saying that the queen returned with the legate, and that "together they made a great cursing." Thus did Eleanor see the happy termination of the barons' wars, and was once more settled with her royal partner on the throne of England. In the year 1267, the formidable revolt of the earl of Gloucester occurred. Fortunately for the queen, she was at Windsor when his partisans stormed her palace at West- minster, which they sacked, breaking and destroying every thing they could not carry away, even to the doors and windows, and making a great slaughter of the royal domestics, who oflFered some slight resistance. They also did great mischief to the beautiful new-built abbey. Four of these banditti being discovered to be the servants of the earl of Derby, were, by that nobleman's orders, tied up in sacks, and thrown into the TliaT^ 'y/ It was at this juncture that prince Edw;-v i personi'iiy encor.ntered the last adherent of L^lceste^ ..ud overcame Iuk'-x. Hemmingford and Wikes re- cord in ';!iese words a fact highly cre« 'table both to Eleanor and her son : — " Edward engaged the brave outlaw, Adam de ' Annuls of London. T. Wikes. * Stowe. D D 2 / If': 5' if-' li' ! ^ ' 1 t 4 '. II; I Sil I fj !■■ ■('■'. u n \\i\ I i '( t' 1^- 404 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. Goidon, in Alton-wood, hand to hand, and fairly conquered him in a personal encounter. After granting him hia life he brought him to his wiie's palace of Guildford, where his mother happened to be that evening, and introducing him to the queen, pleaded so earnestly for him, that Henry III. pardoned this adherent of Leicester, and Eleanor soon after gave Gordon an office at Windsor-castle.'" St. Edward's chapel being now completed, and forming the crowning glory of that sublime chef d'oeuvre of gothic archi- tecture, St. Peter's-abbey at Westminster, which Henry III. had been fifty years in building, he, on the 13th of October St. Edward's-day, 1269, assisted by his sons Edward and Edmund, and his brother the king of the Romans, bore the bier of the royal saint on his shoulders, and, in the presence of his queen and all the nobles of his court, placed it in its new station. Queen Eleanor offered a silver image of the Virgin, and other jewels of great value, at the shrine. King Henry reserved the old coffin of St. Edward for his own private use j having, with his usual simplicity, an idea that its previous occupation by the royal saint had made it a peculiarly desirable tenement." ,,! .,,„. •'.,.>.. i , From the Exchequer rolls of this reign^ some hght is thrown on the domestic usages of royalty in the middle ages. The royal table was, it should seem, chiefly supplied by the sheriffs of the counties or the bailiffs of towns. Thus, we find that the sheriff' of the counties of Buckingham and Bedford, by the king's command, on one occa.*«'>n brouglit four hundred and twenty-eight hens to Westminster for his use. The bailiffs of Bristol provided conger eels, and the sheriffs of Essex fowls and other victuals. The bailiffs of Newhaven brought lampreys. The sheriff of Gloucester was commanded to put twenty salmons into his pies, against Christmas. The herring-pies of Yarmouth and Noi'wich still form part of their quit-rent to the crown. The sliorifl' of Sussex was to furnish brawn, and other provisions for the royal use. The sheriff of Wiltshire provided oxen, hogs, sheep, fruit, com, and many other things for the queen, when ' ■" « Wikes. * Madox, Hist. Kxcheq. Liberat. 37 II. III. m. 4. From tlic original Latin. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 405 she was at h^i dower-castle of Marlborough. These requi- sitions were, however, by no means confined to eatables. In the thirty-seventh of Henry III.'s reign, the sheriffs of Wilt- shire and Sussex were each ordered to buy a thousand ells of fine linen, and to send it to the royal wardrobe at Westminster before the next Whitsuntide ; and the linen was to be very fair and dehcate in quality. In the forty-second of Henry, the sheriffs of Norfolk and Suffolk were commanded to dis- burse thirty bf^zants, to be offered at St. Edmund's shrine for the king and queen, and their children. The sheriff of Not- tinghamshire was enjoined to cause the queen's chamber at Nottingham-castle to be painted with the history of Alexander the Great; and the sheriff of Southampton to cause the image of St. Christopher, with our Savioiu* in his arms, and the image of St. Edward the king, to be painted in her chapel at Winchester.' In one of the Tower rolls, dated Woodstock, April 30th, in the thirty-second year of Henry III.'s reign, that monarch directs his treasurer and chamberlain to pay master Henry the poet, whom he affectionately styles " our beloved master Henry, the versificator," one hundred shillings, due to him for the arrears of his salary, enjoining them to pay it without delay, though the exchequer was then shut. In Henry's thirty- fourth year, occurs his order to the master of the Teiuple, that he deUver to * Henry of the wardrobe,' for two years* use, " a certain great book, which is at his house in London, written in French, containing the acts of the king of Antioch, and of other kings." It had been compiled and illuminated under the care of Henrj'^ himself, and if it was, as supposed, relating to the crusading Proven9al princes of Antioch, it would be a valuable history.' ■ - "t; • ^ > i i. ■ : ..,,••//,/ In the great roll of the forty-ninth of Henry III. there is a curious accoimt of queen Eleanor's wardrobe expenses, as ' Mudox, Hist. Exchequer Rolls, Memoranda and Liberat. of that reign. Some of these supplies we know were qmt-rents, as the herrmg-pies of Yannouth aiid Norwich. The sheriffs, in other instances, bought the productions for which each loctvlity v/oH famous, and paid themselves out of the crown-renvs of the county or city. ' Close Re' ■^. jted by Brayley j Hist. Palace of Westminster. iv •« 1,i <^.^ v.ii.- 406 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. )■ ; rendered by Hugh of the Pen, — from the feast of St. Philip and St. James in the forty-first year of the king her husljund, till the feast of St. Simon and St. Jude, forty-ninth year, under the control of Alexander de IJradeham, chaplain to the queen. The accounts are '^' a more creditable nature t(» Eleanor than might be imar..ic-, w] u \ye consider the reckless cxpeiulitiu-e of the firsi, yi.arr: .: Ler marriage.' There was expended in the lineu department, die butlery, kitchen, scidlery, hall, in feeding the poor, in liveries of gar^ons, farriery and shoeing of horses, six thousand eight hundred and sixteen pounds. In oblations for holidays, nTirl. !'1^.«. distributed daily, and by the wayside, one hundred and fifty-one pounds and eighteen shillings. In silks, mantles, upper garments, linen hose for iier ladies, and other miscellaneous expenses for the ward- icoe, a hundi'ed and foiu'-score pounds, eleven shillings, and twelve-pence halfpenny. In jellies, spices, apples,' pears, and other fruit, two hundred and fifty-two pomids, sixteen shillings, and nine-pence halfpenny. In jewels bought for the queen's use, to v, it, eleven rich garlands, with emeralds, pearls, sapphires, and garnets, of the value of (me hundred and forty-five pounds, four shillings, and four-pence. In horses purchased md robes for the queen's family, in mending robes, in shoes, saddles, reins, almonds, wax, and other necessaries for the wardrobe, one thousand six hundred and ninety-one pounds, twelve shillings, and one penny. In gifts presented to knights, clerks, and other messen ■jers coming to the queen, three hun- ' From the peruBul f the ancient ills, it appears that a part of the royal revenue was alv ; vs devot" l to alms. Hiis aliufi was called ' etaemoxi/na cotuti- tuta,' or Hcttled mius, and we find thai pensions w re accustomed to be ])aid to the servants of the king and queen, when sickivess >>r ape incapacitated tliini from the ])erfonnimce of *h"ir respe Eleanor than >ss expenditure 18 expended in idlery, hall, in y and shoeing,' ixteen pounds, daily, and by Is and eighteen linen hose for for the ward- 1 slullings, and pies,' pears, and ixteen shillings, for the queen's learls, sapphires, •rty-five pounds, lasef^ md robes shoes, saddles, r the wardrobe, pounds, twelve ;ed to knights, een, three hun- a part of the royal ' elf.emosyna cotuti- X)med to be ])iud to ipucitiitod tlii'iii from of Henry III., tk the fivrter the penny sed to receive of tlw 'm Eliiu" de Mileford, and t.) I'enteciwt de vi'u cf the sheriff of t he royal household ed in oblations und !, in clot 1 ling for tlw ■harities, with othws nd the queen's private ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 407 dred and sixty-eight pounds, eleven lUngs, and t.en-pen'{!0. Over and above the largo amount or public charity, this creditable entry is carried to siccount j " in secret gifts and pri- vate jdms, foiur thousand and seventeen pounds, ten shillings, and three-pence." Thus we see how large a portion of her income Eleanor of Provence devoted to charitable purposes. But the character of this queen undoubtedly improved as she julvanced into the vale of years. The sum-totfd of these ex- penses is 21,960/. 3*. 7jid., and the accomptant acknowledges that he was in surplusage 10,416/. 3«. 3rf. Wlien men were indebted to the queen for aurum reginte, she sometimes respited, pardoned, and discharged the debt, as she saw fit.' Eleanor, oppressive and exacting as she was, occa- sionally exercised this gracious prerogative, as we learn from memoranda contained in the rolls of the Exchequer, where it is recordetl that the queen gave spite to Imoyne de Sulleye for thirty marks, which he owed her for aurum reginap ; and in the same roll, dated Southampton, it is certified, "that the queen pardoned Patrick de Chances a huiulred shillings, owed for queen-gold, due on the fine which he paid to the king, to bare seisin of the lands that were his patrimony." * In the *th roll th( 'o IS also record of Thomas, son of Aucher, i. mg respite of the fine of fifteen marks, due for a trespass in t forest, and of the portion coming to Eleanor. lu^ nuptials of queen Eleanor's second son, Edmund earl of Lancasii I »id Derby, with the beautiful Aveline, heiress of William Foi ous, earl of Albemarle, had been celebrated on the 8th of April, 1270, before his departure for the Holy Land. The youthful bride died before his return, in the first year of her nuptials.^ Her death was quickly followed by : ' r ! . • Madox, Hiat. of the Exchequer. ' Tlie care of thewardfl oi" the crown was oceiusionally granted to the (iiiwii us we find by a memorandum of Henry III., specifying that queen Eleanor, having the t'ustody of Baldwin de Lisle, her ward, the hereditary chamberlain of the excho(iuer, presented Thomas Esperiti to tlie baroiLs to fiilfil his duties as deputy chamberlain, and her appointment ^ is confirmed by the king. ■' She was int'irred, with pompous obsequies, in Westminster-abbey, near the altar; her stately monument and effigy lulding another ornament to the marvels of sculptured art., with which the exquisite tflste of Henry I II. had graced that august repository of England's royal dead. I I s' ; i '1 t' I idiM * 408 ELEANOR OF PUOVENCE. P! 'l' I^J; "^fT that of thn king of the Romans, for grief of w^n^i VJng Henry fell into the deepest dejeetion of mind, aii'; iiavintr been in person to quell a riot in Norwich, in which great part of the catheibal was burnt, he was attacked with ,i mortal sickness at Bury St. Edmund's; but his anxiety to settle the affiiirs of the kingdom caused him to insist on heiiiff carried forward to London by short stages. When the dyin<' monarch arrived in the metropolis, finding liis dissolution at hand, he summoned Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, into his presence, and made him swear to preserve the peace of England during the absence of prince Edward. He expired on the l()th of November, 1272, aged sixty-six, having nngned tl y-six years and twenty-days. His decease happening in the night, John Kirkeby delivered the royal seal the next morning to Peter of Winchester, keeper of the wardi'obe, the archbishop of York, and the rest of the council.' By the only will king Henry ever made, queen Eleanor having been appointed regent of England, she caused the council to assemble at the new Temple on the 20th of November, the feast of St. Edmund the martyr and king, where, by her con- sent* and appointment, and the advice of Robert Kilwardbv, archbishop of Canterbury, the earl of Gloucester, and the cliief peers and prelates of the realm, her eldest son, prince Ed- ward, was proclaimed king of England, by the style and title of Edward I. •'"('■■-■ '■" -i.iiiu.n ir./.n /„i Tlie remains of king Henry, royally robed and crowned, were, .vccording to his own desire, placed in the old coffin in which the body of Edward the Confessor had originally been interred, and buried near the shrine of that monarch in West- minster-abbey. Tlie knights-Temj)lars, Avith the consent of queen Eleanor, his widow, undertook the care and expense of his funeral, which was very magnificent.' They raised a sump- tuous monmnent to his memory, Avhich wjis aftcnvards riclily inlaid with jasper and precious stones, brought fi-om the Holy Land by his son Edward I. for that purpose. His recumbent statue is in fine preservation, — a noble work of art. Stowe gives the following translation of his Latin epitaph : — • Stowe. - Spettl. Sir H. Nicolao. Chron. Hist. ** Ilarri.xon's Survey. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 409 , •* Tlic friend of pity and ttlnw-dwHl, i" Hoiiry Uio Tliinl whilnnio of Kni^land kin^, .1 ( I' " Who thin church bmke, Hnr, at h'w lueed, \i^,\f Again ronowod into thii* lUir buildinf;;, , Now retttoth here, which did so ffrout a tiling." Tlie pope addressed a pastoral letter of condolence to Eleanor on the death of the king her husband : it is written jointly to her and king Edward, whom he felicitates on his accession, and requests Eleanor to give him the letter on his return. One of the first things that occupied the attention of the royal widow was, the refounding St. Katherine's hos- pital, for a master, a chaplain, three sisters, ten bedewomen, and six poor scholars; she having previously dissolved the original cstabhshmeut of Matilda of Boulogne, on account of misgovemment. • ■ Soon after his return, Edward I. was forced to rectify a wrong committed by his mother, which was much in the stylo of her former acts of rapacity. Just before the death of her husband, she had persuaded him to grant her the custody of London-bridge for six years. Before the term was expired, the citizens found their new-built bridge was suffering great injury, " for," they declared, in their supplication to the king, " the said lady queen taketh aU the tolls, and careth not how the bridge is kept."' The very first patent granted by Ed- ward I. in the first year of his reign, is the concession of her dower to liis royal mother. Tins document, which is still preserved among the patent rolls in the Tower, is entituled, — " Ample assignation of a dowry to Alianora, queen of England, mother of the king." There are also patents granted to her m the eighth and eighteenth years of the reign of Edward I. Eleanor lost her husband and both her daughters in one year ; for scarcely had the tomb closed over the mortal remains of her royal lord, ere she was called upon to mourn the death of her eldest daughter, Margaret queen of Scotland. This lady had come to pay her mother a dutiful visit of condolence on the death of the king her father, and died in England in the thirty-third year of her age, and the twenty-second of her marriage, leaving only one daughter, who was married to Eric, ' ytowo's London. » ■ i M ! ! 5 u ft I I , ^w f ■: -1 III a r fl 410 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. king of Norway. The death of the queen of Scotland waa followed by that of her sister, the duchess of Bretagne, who came, with her lord, to witness the coronation of her royal brother Edward, and died very unexpectedly a few days after- wards, in the thirtieth year of her age, greatly lamented by her illustrious consort, and by her mother queen Eleanor. Matthew of Westminster 'Ifcys she was a princess of great beauty and wit.' i uJ' linud n\ ivjiofi'i'^ :«M!,ifJ while travelling in afar Country? " Alianor, by the grace of God, queen of England, to the king our son, health with our benison. " Inasmuch, as our son, .Tohn of Bretagne, is in a foreign land, and requires of me as his mother, and you as his lord, some recommendation, our sir John de. Maurre (his seneschal in England) ought to go to La Doure quickly to hear cer- tain tidings of his lord. We pray and require that you would grant th'j, as mu sir Nicol de Stapleton can attend to liis want" in this country, and wr wisli tliat you would send your letter by him, as he will understand it, for he will not go ■■■-■■■ -»■ - - — .,,,- ■ ... — - — . * There is a letter in the first volume of the Fanlera, from Blanche duchess of Bretagne, the mother-in-law of this princess, addressed to Henry III., in which there is aiTcctionate mention made of Beatrice and her eldest son. We traii£crilc the letter, us affording one of the earliest specimens of ^miliar correspondence between royal personages in the middle ages. After the usual supei-scription to her very high and very dear lord Henry, by the grace of God king of England, &c. kc,, she commences ; — " Sire, I pray you that you will be pleased to iuf'orm tis of your state, which may our Lord of his grace make always good j for know, my dear lord, that I have great joy at all times in liaving gcx)d news of you.— Know, sire, tliat my lady Beatrice, your dear daughter ajid cui-s, is still sick of her fever, but is much Iwttor, God be thanked, and her physicians toll us that her fever cannot last long.— I pray you, my dear lord, if we have any thing in our parts tliat you would like me to send, to inform me ; for know, sire, that I shull hare very great joy if 1 con do any thing for you. And know, sire, that Arthur is good and very beautiful, God be thanked ! Our Lord liave you in l^is can'." Tliis lett«T is dated 1265, and is written in old French. There is al> I. rnrriago-trcaty— Queen- marriage at Burgos— [res to France — lietunu to Hliiire it — Arrives ut :h"inee Edward's illness eaiiora's sons — Oi' king at Miiiiie — Provideutial ion — War — Marriajre of ewed — Elennora shares incess born in Wales— r — Birth of prince me — Birth of younger rth — Eleauora follows -Follows her corpsi'— 'o Eleanora's memory creditors— Prayers for 3ra of Castile Mith errainated a war tmed ' the Astro- siccount of some to the province of 3d the Alplioiisiuo tal'les thi> Wibc' %. / ^-Wv/^ xr|j^__ f^ ^^■^■- loudon, Hei-,v\ ColbuT'\,i i 5 i i : L '.-}' '■1 hi: an H( poi th: fau pri; the Boi plei sad in Enj his the not the brol doni Cast year Joai prin Ccei in ^v was prov her were out then whei ElcanJ ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 419 ttie' ambas- ut, inscribed (l that the (Jascony.' Alphonso had invaded Guienne, but, coutrai} to his usual fortune, Henry III. had tlie best of the contest, and the royal Caatilian was glad to make overturos for peace. Henry, who had not the least gall of bitterness in his com- position, and was always more willing to proi-ote a festival than continue a fray, luckily recollected that Viphrnvso had a fair young sister to dispose of, whose age would j.'sf suit his heir, prince Edward. He therefore desp; '-lied Lis private chaplain, the bishop of Bath, with his secret; f, -> "^Ta el, from Bourdeaux, to demand the hand of thf yt vfanta, as a pledge of her brother's placable inteii sadors speedily returned with don Alphou.- in a scroll sealed with gold." Alphonso s English prince should come to Burgos, to recei\e the hand of his bride, five weeks before Michaelmas-day, 1254. ; otherwise the contract should be null and void. The stipulation was not unreasonable, for both the mother and grandmother of the bride had been long engaged to English princes who had broken their troth. '- ^. ■ The king of Castile was but half-brother to the young donna Eleanora. She was the daughter of Ferdinand III. of Castile, by Joanna countess of Pontliieu, who had been many years before contracted to Henry III., king of England. Joanna inherited Ponthieu from her grandmother, — that princess Alice of France, whose betrothment with Richard Coeur de Lion, in the preceding century, had involved Europe in war. Eleanora, as the sole descendant of these princesses, was heiress-presumptive to Pontliieu and Montrieul, which provinces the royal widow of Castile, her mother, retained in her own possession. When the preliminaries of the marriage were settled, the queen of England, Eleanor of Provence, set out for Bourdeaux with her son prince Edward ; and from thence travelled across the Pyrenees with him to Burgos, where they arrived August 5th, 1254, within the time limited by the royal astronomer. A stately festival was held in the * He pretended that Henry II. had settled this province on his daughter Eleanora, queen of Caatilc. ' Preserved in the Chapter-house at Westminster. .v>. E E 2 1; I •-I i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /> 1.0 I.I 1^1^ 12.5 |50 l"^™ ■■■ ^ lii 12.2 u 2.0 18 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► ^^J>.^ //m' #- '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation '^ 4- <^4 ^N^ o^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. MSSO (716) 872-4503 4is ^"'^ ^f^.^ ^4> ^ \ iV ^ I: i k < , '• &> J'*' -iQ V ;| J 4 i 'J ir •r I 420 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. % W' capital of Castile, in honour of the nuptials of the young infanta with the heir of England. At a tournament given by king Alphonso, the prince received knighthood from the sword of his brother-in-law. Edward was just fifteen, and the princess some years younger,* at the time of their espousals. After the chivalric festivities at Burgos had ceased, queen Eleanor re-crossed the Pyrenees, accompanied by her son and young daughter-in-law. King Henry waited at Bourdeaux to receive his son's bride.'' He had prepared so grand a festival for the reception of the young infanta, that he expended three hmidred thousand marks on her marriage-feast, to the indig- nation of his EngUsh peers. When one of them reproached him for this extravagance, the king rephed, in a dolorous tone : " Oh ! for the head of God say no more of it, lest men should stand amazed at the relation thereof!" ' Henry settled on the prince, his heir, all the Aquitanian domains inherited from Eleanor, his grandmother; he like- wise created him prince of Wales, with an exhortation to employ his youth in conquering the principality, of which he had, rather prematurely, assumed the title, together with that of Guienne. One thousand pounds per annum was the dower settled on the young Eleanora, in case the prince should die before his father. Prince Edward and Jds bride returned to Guienne after this renowned festival, in 1254. The young princess accompanied the royal family to Pans : she was lodged in the Temple, where Henry III. gave that celebrated banquet to St. Louis, mentioned in the pre- ceding biographies as ' the feast of kings.' Henry ordered a suite of rooms to be fitted up for his daughter-in-law in the castle of Guildford ; his directions particularly specify that her chamber is to have glazed windows, a raised hearth, a chimney, a wardrobe, and an adjoining oratory, or oriel.^ When Henry III. was preparing to invade Scotland, to avenge the afironts his daughter had received from Eos and Baliol, he was apprized that the infant don Sancho, arch- ' She is mentioned by all chronickrs as a very young girl. Piers of Langtoft, her contemporary, speaks of her as a child. Her age seems about ten, at this period. Eobert of Gloucester, Piers, and Matthew Paris are the authorities for the events of this marriage. ^ Matthew Paris. ' Stowe's London. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. m bishop-elect of Toledo, (half-brother to Eleanora,) with don Garcias Madinez, were on their way to England. They were lodged in the new Temple: the walls of their apartments were hmig from their travelling stores by their attendants with silk and tapestry, and the floors covered with rich carpets, — the first time such luxuries were ever seen in Eng- land. The Spanish visitors were the avant-couriers of young Eleanora, who came for the first time to England the begin- ning of October. She landed at Dover, with a great retinue and a very scanty wardrobe.' She was not accompanied by her husband: her father-in-law, Henry III., sent her one hundred marks to purchase what she needed; he Ukewise sent her a handsome palfrey. He charged Reginald de Cob- ham, castellan of Dover, to receive her, lodge her at the castle with all honour, and escort her in person to London, request- ing she would tarry at Canterbury on the road, and celebrate the feast of St. Edward. He sent her, very providently, for that purpose a silver alms-dish and two gold broochey, with several silken palls or coverlets, as offerings at the shrine of Saint Thomas, and other shrines on her road.* Eleanora arrived in London on Sunday, October 17, 1255. -The king, hia nobles, the lord mayor and citizens, went out in solemn pmcession to meet her, and the city was hung with coloured cloth wherever she passed. When she arrived at Westminster, she found her apartments, through the care of her brother the archbishop, hung with costly tapestry, "like a church; and carpeted after the Spanish fashion."' This was the first time tapestry had been 'seen in England devoted to any use but adorning a church on high festivals. Though the citizens had received the Spanish princess " with songs, music, and other joyful devices," they soon began to be offended at such luxury; and the Spaniards in the train of the young Eleanora were viewed as invidiously as the Proven9al atten- dants of her mother-in-law.'* They affirmed that Eleanora's countrymen were the very refuse of mankind, hideous in their ' Liber de Antiquis Legibus, MS. Harl. 690. » M. Paris, 783. « Close Kolls of Henry IIL ^.- * liiber de Antiquis Legibus, quoted by B. Botfield, esq, - !!l (11 1' 1' -i w k 11 n ,< 1' IJt i- H 422 ELEANORA OP CASTILE. persons, and contemptible in their dress and manners ;* and among their other iniquities, they kept few horses and many mules. Thus the national prejudices on Eleanora's first arrival in England were strongly against her : not only did they revile the connexions of the young princess, but they pro- nounced the characters of her husband's household to be of the worst description, — Matthew Paris adding, "that prince Edward's train often robbed pack-horses and merchants who travelled with money ; and that the prince himself was cruel, and so rapacious as to be deemed scarcely honester than his men," — a character in curious coincidence with the traditions regarding his descendant Henry V., when prince of Wales. Edward came to England about a month after the arrival of his young spouse, landing from Guienne November 29.^ Prince Edward and his young bride passed over to Bour- deaux in 1256; and while Eleanora was completing her education, the yoimg prince led the wandering life of a knight- errant, "haunting tournaments" wherever they were given. He was at Paris, tilting at a very grand jousting-match, in 1260, when news was brought him of the violent dissensions between the English barons and his father, which led to the fearful civil war that convulsed England for more than three years. During the whole of that disastrous era his you||g princess resided in France with the rest of the royal family, either with queer rguerite of France, or with her own mother at Ponthit, . After tlie heroic eflForts of prince Edward had freed his father and restored him to his throne, and the coimtry breathed in peace after the dreadful strife at Evesham, the royal ladies of England ventured to return. On the 29th of October, 1265, Eleanor of Provence, queen of England, with her daughter-in-law, Eleanora of Castile, landed at Dover/ where they were received by Henry III. and prince Edward; from thence they were escorted to Canterbmy, where the royal party was magnificently entertained by the archbishop. Prince Edward had left his wife an iminformed girl ; she » M. Paris, 783. ' Botficld's Maiuicrb and Household Expenses of England, Ixix. 8 VVikes. i ! '4 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 423 was now a lovely young woman of twenty, to whose character the uncertainty of fortune had assuredly given a favoiu-able bias. The prince conveyed his restored wife to St. John's, Smithfield, after a magnificent welcome by the citizens. Eleanora afterwardi removed to the Savoy-palace,* which had been originally built by coimt Peter of Savoy, her husband's uncle, and afterwards purchased by Eleanor of Provence, as a London inn or residence for the younger branches of her family. This was the abode of Eleanora of Castile when she attended the court at Westminster, but her favourite residences were the castle of Windsor, and her own dower-castle of GuUdford. The memory of Eleanor's court at Guildford is preserved in one of the oldest of the Enghsh historical ballads, ' Adam o' Gordon,' which, if not quite as ancient as the days of Henry III., is nevertheless purely based on the narrations of the Latin contemporary chroniclers, Wikes and Hem- mingford; indeed, as to fact, it is but the history, versified with some poetical ornament, of prince Edward's encounter with the Proven9al outlaw in the woods near Guildford : his fierce combat, his generous pardon of the Gordon, were inci- dents that occurred during Eleanora's residence at Guildford- castle ; and to his princess the heir of England brought the man he had conquered, both in mind and person. • ' " Prince Edward hath brought him to GuOdford-tower Ere that summer's day is o'er. He hath led him to the secret bower ' Of his wife, fair Eliaiiore. i ' • His mother, the * ladye of gay Provence,* .1 , • , And his sire the king were there ; ; Oh, scarcely the Gordon dared advance ■'■ ^- > ' ' In a presence so stately and fair ! But the prince hath kneeled at his father's feet, ' . I For the Gordon's life he sues ; , ; .IThis princess so fair hath joined in the prayer, ' ' And how can king Henry refiise ? ' • . i I Can he his own dear son withstand, _, ^^ So dutiful, brave, and true, ' And the loveliest lady in all the land ' Kneeling before him too ? J!l * Grafton. Stowe. ..,1 'I * Private boudoir. 3 Eleanora of Castile. § 1 1 " i Hi! II fcjf|y7|;-A i< I ,1 - 424 'V'.r ~(i Mil''; )'•. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. ' My children arise,' the old king said, f.,,^ , And a tear was in his eye, He laid his hand on the prince's head, • ' ' And he blessed him fervently: • With a joyftil heart I grant your prayer. And I bid the Gordon live ; Oh ! the happiest part of a monarch's care, la to pity and to forgive.' Then spake the queen ' so fair and tree, * The Gordon I will make The steward of my royal house, : v ■ > 1 For these dear children's sake.' " , , .k i ^ The eldest son of Eleanora of Castile was bom at Windsor the year after her return to England ; he was named John, after his great-grandfather king John, of evil memory. In the succeeding year, 1266, Eleanora gave birth at Windsor to a princess named Eleanora, and the year after to prince Henry. The beauty of these children, and their early promise, so much dehghted their royal grandfather, that he greatly augmented the dower of the mother. Prince Edward took up the cross in 1269, and his virtuous princess resolved to share the penis of his Syrian campaign. Before she departed from England, she accompanied her mother-in-law in a grand progress to various shrines. During the royal progress to Northampton, the princess Eleanora made a pilgrimage to ' Dunstable, in company with queen Eleanor, and oflfered at the shrine of St. Peter an altar-clotn of gold brocade, as a thanksgiving for the health of her children. On her return, she assisted at a magnificent con- vocation of the barons of England in Westminster-hall, where they swore fealty and kissed the hand of her Uttle son prince John, and recognised him as his father's successor, in case of the death of Edward in the ensuing crusade. In vain did the ladies of Eleanora represent to her the hardships and dangers ever attendant on a crusade, for death on the Asiatic coast threatened in many forms beside the sword. The princess replied in words that well deserve to be remembered and noted : " Nothing," said this admirable lady, " ought to part those whom God hath joined ; and the way to heaven is * Eleanor of Provence. ELEANOBA OF CASTILE. 425 aa near, if not nearer, from Syria as from England, or my native Spain."' A contemporary historian' has left us a very grapliic portrait of the husband of Eleanora at this period of his life. " He was a prince of elegant form, and majestic stature, so tall that few of his people reached his shoulder. His ample forehead and prominent chest added to the dignity of his personal appearance. His arms were most agile in the use of the Bword, and his length of limb gave him a firm seat on the most spirited horses. His hair was hght before his eastern campaigns, but became dark in middle life. His left eyebrow had a sUghtly obUque fall, giving a shade of resemblance to his father's face, in whose portrait this defect is very strongly marked. The speech of Edward was sometimes hesitating, but when animated was passionately eloquent." His disposi- tion, which Eleanora of Castile had the sole merit of softening and reforming, was naturally a fiery one, but generous when opposition ceased.' Much has been said regarding the conjugal fidelity of prince Edward. But previously to his Syrian campaign he was im- petuous and wilful in character, and far from a faultless husband. He had inspired the earl of Gloucester with mad jealousy,* who not only accused him of criminal intimacy with his countess, but declared that he, the earl of Gloucester, had been poisoned by the agency of prince Edward and the faith- less spouse. It is to be feared that this lady was a great coquette, as she had previously been exercising her powers * Camden's Remains. ^ Hemnmigford. ' Walsingham relates a circumstance of prince Edward^ which took place before the Syrian campaign; it is an anecdote that casts some light on his character. " Hawking one day on a river, he saw one of his barons not attending to a falcon that had just seized a duck among the willows. Prince Edward upbraided him for his neglect ; and the noble tauntingly replied, ' It was well for him that the river parted them.' Stung by the remark, the prince plunged into the stream, though ignorant of its depth ; and having wdth (Kfficulty reached the opposite side, pursued the noble lord with his dra^vn sword, who, seeing escape hoijeless, turned round his horse, flung off his cap, and advancing to Edward, threw himself on his mercy, and offered his neck to the blow. This submission disarmed the prince ; he sheathed liis sword, and rode home quietly with the offender." * Stowe'a Chronicle. II A H : 1 u 1 ?! 426 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. of fascination on the old king, according to the curious letter in the Wakefield tower, recently discovered, from Marguerite queen of France, expressing uneasiness, for her sister's sake at the intimacy between Henry III. an I the countess.' The scandal regarding prince Edward's attention to her had com. menced before the return of Eleanora to England in 1264 but its eflfects convulsed the court with broils, till the princess left it and all its turmoils in the spring of 1270. At this time she bade farewell to the two lovely boys she never saw again, and sailed for Bourdeaux, where she superintended the preparations for the crusade campaign." Edward sailed from Portsmouth about a month later, and met his consort at Bourdeaux; they proceeded to Sicily, where they sojourned during the winter, with the expectation that St. Louis, the king of France, would unite in the crusade. Soon after their arrival, tidings were brought of the death of St. Louis, at Tunis, and the discomfiture of his array. The king of Sicily, who was brother to St. Louis, and husband to Edward's aunt, endeavoured to persuade his royal guests to give up their crusading expedition ; whereupon prince Edward struck his breast, and exclaimed with energy, — " Sangue de Dieu / if all should desert me,^ I would lay siege to Aeon, if only attended by Fowen, my groom I" i. . The following spring Edward and Eleanora anived at Ptolemais. The prince made an expedition as far as Naza- reth,* and put all the garrison to the sword ; and when the Saracens came to the rescue, he engaged the infidel army, and defeated them with great slaughter. He won another battle, June 1271, at Cahow, and thus terminated his first and second campaigns. He returned to Cyprus for the winter, and, being reinforced by the Cypriots, undertook the siege of Acre the succeeding summer, still attended by his faithful Eleanora. !' The emir of Joppa, who was the Saracen admiral, pre- tending that he was desirous of becoming a Christian convert, ' Fotirth Report of the Records: it is among the collection of the Roynl Lettere Sn the Wakefield tower. ' Matthew of Westminster. ' W. Rishauger. M. Paris. ^ Knolles' History of the Turks. !( -* ELEANORA OP CASTILE. 427 had sent a messenger several times with letters to the prince of England. This envoy was one of the agents of the Old Man of the Mountains^ who kept a band for secret murders, called 'assassins/ After the cunning fanatic had created a confidence in Edward's mind by frequent messages, he was introduced into the royal chamber, bringing letters, for the fifth time, from the emir. The prince was indisposed from the heat of the climate, and was lying on his bed bareheaded, wearing only a white vest. The assassin gave him some letters to read, written on purpose to please the Christian prince. They were alone in the apartment, because the negotiation touched the life and honour of the admiral of Joppa, therefore secrecy was imperatively needful. The assassin pretended that he had another paper to deliver, but he drew out with it a poniard, and aimed a blow at the side of the prince as he lay before him on the bed. Fortunately Edward perceived the treachery, and, suddenly raising his arm, received the blow upon it. His assailant endeavoured to reiterate the stroke, but Edward, who seems not yet to have risen from his recumbent posture, felled him to the ground with a kick on the breast : again the traitor returned to the attack, and the prince finally killed him vritla. a trestle, or stool, that stood by. The attendants, hearing the scuffle, came running in, and the prince's harper, or minstrel, beat out the assassin's brains ; whereat the prince sternly reproached him, asking, " What was the use of striking a dead man ?" After some days, the prince'*^ woimded arm began to show unfavourable symptoms, and tiio flesh blackening, exhibited signs of mortification ; insomuch, that all about him began to look heavily upon each other. " Why whisper ye thus among yourselves?" said the prince; "what see ye in me? Tell the truth, and fear not." Then Hemmingford' narrates that the master of the Temple recommended incisions, which would be exquisitely painful. " If suffering," said the prince to the surgeon brought to him by the master of the Temple, " may again restore my health, I commit myself to you : work on me your will, and spare not." • Walter Heramingfbrd's Chronicle. ! I ; I ! :mi hi 428 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. Eleanora was by his bedside at this dreadful crisis; she lost her firmness, and bewailed, with a passion of tears, the anguish about to be inflicted on her husband. Edward, with his usual decision of character, cut short the agony of his wife, by bidding his brother Edmund, and his favourite kni{,'ht John de Vesci, carry the princess out of the room. They took her in their arms and bore her from the apartment, she shrieking and struggling all the time, till her brother-in-law told her, " That it was better that she should scream and cry, than aU England mourn and lament."' The surgical operation was effectual ; in fifteen days Edward was able to mount his horse, though his health was long in a precarious state. He always attributed his final recovery to the tender care and attention of Eleanora; but if there had been any truth in the story of her sucking the poison from his wound," the narrators of the scene, who have entered into its details so minutely, woidd not have forgotten the circumstance. "While yet in ill health, prince Edward made his will' With a philosophy rare at this era, he leaves his body to be buried wherever his executors please. To his principal executor, his brother-in-law and fellow-crusader, John duke of Bretagne, he leaves the guardianship of his children, if he should die before they come of age. He provides for the dowry of his dear wife Eleanora, but does not leave her either guardian to the realm in reversion, or to her chOdren. Scarcely was the prince recovered from his wound, when Eleanora brought into the world an infant princess, named Joanna, and called from the place of her birth Joanna of Acre.* The next remarkable event that happened at Acre, ■"' -"^ ' * Knighton and Hemmingford. * The story is to he found quoted by Camden, but only as recorded by Sanctius, a Spanish historian, who lived a hundred and fifty years after the siege of Acre, and who introduced it in a comment he wrote on the works of Roderigo Toletus. This author does not bear the weight of Walter Hemmingford, wlio mentions Eleanora, but does not allude to this event. ' Sir Harris Nicolas. Testamenta Vetusta. Edward left no other will. * This princess is the first instance of a misalliance in the royal house of Plan- tagenet. After the death of her first husband, she stole a match with one of his retainers, Ralph Monthermer, called by some authors his groom, but he wa>> in reality his squire. Joanna was, in 1306, forgiven by her father, on account of the valour her second husband had shown in the Scottish wars. The bishop of Durham was the mediator in this reconciliation. ..t- V,.) ^ii ELEANORA OF CASTILE, 4ft9 while Eleanora remained there with her roynl lord, was, that a pope was chosen, in a manner, out of their houncliold. . Theobald, archbishop of Liege, who attended the royal pair on their crusade, waa in his absence elected to the papal throne, which he ascended tmder the name of Gregory X, This pontiff had been the tutor of prince Edward. The army of the prince being reduced by sickness, want, and desertion, he considered that it was useless to tarry longer in Syria. Leaving behind him a reputation not inferior to that of his great uncle, Coeur de Lion, Edward turned his back most reluctantly on the Holy Land, and with his princess and her infant daughter arrived safely at Sicily, where heavy tidings awaited them. The news first reached them that prince John, their lovely and promising heir, whose talents were unequalled for his years, had died August 1, 1272. Scarcely had the princess and her husband received this intelligence, when they heard of the death of their second son, prince Henry j and a third messenger brought the news to Messina that king Henry III. was dead, and that prince Edward was now Edward I. of England. The firmness and resignation with which Eleanora and Edward bore the loss of their promising boys surprised every one at the Sicilian court ; but when the prince heard of the death of his royal sire, he gave way to a burst of anguish so bitter, that his uncle' Charles of Anjou, king of Sicily, who was in company with him, astonished at his manner of receiving intelligence that hailed him king, asked him " How it was that he bore the loss of both his sons with such quiet resignation, and aban- doned himself to grief at the death of an aged man?"' Edv ard made this memorable answer : " The loss of infants may be repaired by the same God that gave them ; but when *' The husband of his mother's sister. ' Charles was not likely to be troubled with much sensibility, for while St. Louis was bitterly weeping for the death of their mutual brother, the count of Poitou, slain in theii" crusade, Charles, who was on ship-board, amused himself with playing at tric-trac all day long. When the king of France was informed of this hard-hearted way of spending the hours of moumuig, he came softly behind his brother in the heat of his gome, and seizing his backgammon-boai^, threw men, dice, and money into the sea. Tlie humour with which the lord de Joinville (who saw the incident) relates this anecdote is irresistible HI 430 ELEANOR A OF CASTH.l!. i 1 a mnn Ims lost a good father, it is not in the course of nature for God to send liim another." From Sicily qnecn Eleanora accompanied her roynl hus. band to Rome, where they were welcomed and magnificently entertained by their friend, pope Gregory X. England, happy in the permanent settlement of her ancient representative government, now for the first time practically established since the reign of St. Edward, enjoyed such profound tranquillity, that her young king and queen were able to remain more vhan a year in their continental dominions. During this time the queen gave birth to another heir,' more beautiful and promising than either of his deceased brethren. The queen named him, after her beloved brother, Alphonso, a name which sounds strangely to English ears ; but had this prince lived to wear the crown of his great father, it would, in all probability, have become as national to England as the names of Edward or George.* At this jimcture the life of Edward was preserved, in a manner that he considered almost mira- culous. As he was sitting with his queen on a couch, in their palace at Bomxleaux, a flash of lightning kiUed two lords who were standing directly behind them, without injuring the royal pair.' Edward, with his queen, made a progress homeward througli all his French provinces, tilting at tournaments as he went. Passing through Paris, he did homage to the king of France for Aquitaine and its dependencies, before he returned to assume the English crown.'' The king and queen landed at Dover, August 3, 1273. All preparations had been made for their speedy coronation, which took place on the 19th of the same month. They were received in London with the utmost exultation. The merchants, enriched by peaceful commerce with the rich wine provinces of the South, showered gold antl silver on the royal retinue as they passed under the Avindows of the Chcpe." Both houses of parliament assembled to wcl- ' Paulua Emilius, He was born Nov. 23, 1272. * Alphonso is an abbreviation of Ildefonso, a native Iberian saint. ' Matthew Paris. ■• Walsingham and Wikcs. ■ Edward brouglit in his train Guasco, a rebel Gascon baron, whom he had condemned to death ; but Iiis puiiislunent seems to have been commuted by lu^ . / ■™!i>!i. \l> lurse of nature ler royal Ims. raaf^ificently Dnglaiid, happy representative itablishcd Hince id tranquillity, 3 remain more During this more beautiful )rethren. The phonso, a name had this prince it would, in all id as the names life 0*' Edward ;d almost mira- Dn a couch, in killed two lords out injuring the naeward through nts as he went, king of France he returned to ^ueen landed at I been made for he 19th of the with the utmost ceful commerce •wered gold and er the >vindoAvs scmbled to wcl- 272. berian saint, aiid Wikes. ])aron, whom he Imd ■en commuted by litf ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 431 como and do honour to their constitutional king and his virtuous consort. At the coronation of Edward and ICleanora, preparations were made for the exercise of the most profuse hospitality; the whole areas of the Palace-yards, old and new, were filled with wooden buildings,' open at the top, to let out the smoke of cooking. Here, for a whole fortnight, were prepared suc- cessions of banquets, served up for the entertauiment of all comers, where the independent franklin, the stout yeoman from the country, and the rich citizen and industrious artisan from the metropolis, alike found a welcome, and were entertained gratuitously. Good order was genenU, and every one delighted with this auspicious commencement of the new reign. Ed- ward and Eleanora were crowned by the hands of Robert Kilwardby, archbishop of Canterbury. One of the most extraordinary features of this coronation is recorded in an old black-letter manuscript chronicle -? " King Edward was crowned and anointed as right heir of England^ with much honour and worsliip, with his virtuous queen ; and after mass the king went to his palace, to hold a royal feast among all the peers that had done him honour and^orship. And when he was set at his meat, king Alexander of Scotland came to do him service, and to worship with a quentyse^ and a hun- dred knights with him, horsed and arrayed. And when they were alight off their horses, they let their horses go whither they would, and they that could catch them had them to their own behoof. And after that came sir Edmund, the king's brother, a courteous knight and a geutleman of renown, and the earl of Gloucester. And after them came the earl of Pembroke and the earl of Warren, and each of them led a being exhibited, when the king entered London in state, with a rope about his neck. The poor captive expected nothing but death. He was forgiven the capital part of his offence by the act of indemnity at the coronation. He returned thanks to Edward on his knees. This miut have made a most striking feature of that part of the ceremony. Guasco was afterwards a loyal friend and subject to Edward, whose mercy, however, was never extended with frankness to any but the natives of the soul , of France, as in the instance of Adam de Gordon. Edward treated them as countrymen, and their language was most familiar on his tongue. ' Ancient chronicle, quoted by Carte. * Preserved by sir Robert Cotton. ' A quaint device, or ingenious invention. • } 432 ELEANORA OE CASTILE. 'I horse by their hand, and a hundred of their knights did the same. And when they were alight off their horses, they let them go wherever they would, and they that could take them had them still at their liking/' The coronation of Edward and Eleanora had been graced by the presence of the king of Scotland and the duke of Bretagne, but Llewellyn, prince of Wales, absented himself- upon which the king of England sent him a sharp message, " to know wherefore he did not tender homage at the late coronation of himself and queen?" Llewellyn refused to acknowledge that any homage was due : he was a victorious prince, for, taking advantage of the recent civil wars in Eng. land, he had reconquered aU the territory which the Norman predecessors of Edward I. had wrested from the Welsh. The first mischance that befell the Welsh wap the capture of the bride of UeweUyn,* coming from France ; her vessel was seized by the Bristol merchantmen, who carried her j^risoner to king Edward. This prince had not yet learned to behave with cruelty to women. The young damsel, though the daughter of Simon de Montfort, his mortal foe, whom he had slain in battle, wai^^n the same time the child of his aunt, Eleanor Plantagenet. He received her with the courtesy of a kinsman, and consigned her to the gentle keeping of his queen, with whom she resided at Windsor-castle. Nor was Eleanor de Montfort the only one of Edward the First's kins- women to whom the queen gave kindness and protection. A letter of hers has lately been found among the Tower records. It is addressed to Robert Bumell, her husband's private secre- tary : it was prompted by her friendship for Constance, the widow of the unfortunate Henry, son of Richard earl of Cornwall, Henry III.'s brother. The servants of Constance had been injured or aggrieved.^ * Eleanora, by God's grace queen of England, lady of Ireland, and duchess of Aqnitaine, to lord Robert Bumell sends loving greeting. " We i-equire and affectionately entreat you to give counsel and assistance in this affair, that the transgression injuriously committed agiunst the beiu'cr of these presents, the servant of the lady Constance our cousin, (which master John ' WiilHiT>pVii>.Tn. Powell's W^t'lsh nhnnniftlca. « Males' Catalogue of Honour. Wikes. 'Ibid. Ireland, and ducliess of ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 438 Clavell will show you,) may be reasonably redressed. For the confldence which we hav8 ui your benevolence is the cause why we so often direct to you ovir prayers on behalf of our friends. And do you, for love of us, give such diligence iu this affair, that we may henceforth be bound to you by spedal favour. ^ « Given at Guildford, xiiii. day of October." The wax with Wales lasted till 1278, when LleweUyn, jinding it impossible to recover his bride by force of anus, submitted to the required homage, aud queeu Eieauora bn)ught the lady Eleanor Montfort to Worcester, where king Edward bestowed his kinswoman upon Llewellyn, giving her away ^th his own royal hand ; while his amiable queen supported her at the altar of Worcester cathedral, and graced the nuptial feast of prince LleweUyn with her presence. The prince and princess of Wales afterwards accompanied the king and queen to Westminster,' with a great retinue of malcontent Snowdon barons, and their vassals. After this pacification, the death of the queen of Castile caused the provinces of Ponthieu and Montrieu^ to devolve on her daughter, queen Eleanora, who quitted jl^i^gland with king Edward, in order to take posses* sion of her inheritance, and do homage to the kmg of France. Edward I. received from one of the dignitaries of the Temple, in France, a chessboard and chnpnen made of jasper and crystal, which present he transferred to his queen, a circumstance which leads us to the conclusion that she was skilled in the noble game. An accident that happened to the prince just before the Syrian campaign proves that he was a chess-player. One day, when he was playing at chess ' The prince of Wales did homage in Westminster-hall. According to an ancient MS., translated by Carte in his History, the Snowdon barons who acoom- pamed Llewellyn to England with their serfs were quartei-ed at Islington, where they were any thing but comfortable, taking great offence at the fare provided for them. They could neither drink the wine nor the ale of London ; mead and Welsh ale could not be got for them ; the English bread they refused to eat, and all London could not afford milk enough for their daily diet. They were indig- nant at the staring of the Londoners when they walked in the streets in their outlandish garb, and even suspected that the English took them for savages. " No," cried they in chorus, " we will never again visit Islington, excepting as conquerors." Droll as the association of ideas may be between the Welsh bards and Islington, the name of that harmless suburb was the constant refrain of the Welsh bai'ds till Edward silenced them in death. As all the popular agitations were rused by the bards, who were perfectly frantic concerning the prophecies of Merlin at this crisis, their extirpation by Edward is a very probable ciroumstanoe, though contesteu by nistonans, VOL. I. \ -■;i s b Ki:'l'V; r I r- f f I [1 i'' 434 ELEANORA OP CASTILE. at Windsor with a knight, the prince suddenly, from an impulse, rose from his game without any motive or decided purpose which he could define, even to himself; the next moment, the centre stone of the groined ceUing above him fell on the very spot where he had been sitting. From this accident he beheved himself to be under the special protection of Providence, and reserved for some great purpose ; he attri- buted his preservation to Our Lady of Walsingham. Eleanora of Castile was a patroness of hterature.' In the curious library of St. Genevieve, in Paris, there is a treatise of religion called " Hierarchy," translated from Latin into French by John de Pentham, at her request and under her patronage.'' Eleanora hkewise paid forty shillings to Richard du Marche, for illuminating a psalter and two tablets with miniature pictures.' ■ '• - ' • - ♦ ■ ' The return of the royal pair was hastened by another Welsh war ; for the fair bride of Llewellyn died, after bring, ing him a hving daughter,* and the prince, urged by the songs of the bards, and the indignation of his subjects regard- ing his homage, suddenly invaded England. The ambiguous words of a prophec^l)f Merlin, asserting that a prince bom in Wales should be the acknowledged king of the whole British island, was the stimulus that led to a war, terminatmg in the death of the brave Llewellyn. The gold coronet of the unfortunate prince, taken from his head by lord Mortimer after the fatal skirmish at Builth, was offered by prince Alphonso at the shrine of Edward the Confessor. ; ,- The unsettled state of Wales needed the constant presence ' Botfield, quoted in his Compotus of Eleanora of Castile, ' Warton is the authority for this fact, which, from my own inspection of Uie literary curiosities in that extraordinary libraiy, is doubtless true ; but Warton gives the name of the work barbarously, caUing it ' Jerarcliie.* Tlie volume belonged to "ihe Friars Minors of Southampton, and doubtless was carried to Fratfce at the dissolution of the monasteries. •'' B. Botfield. * This child, whose name was Guendolen, was brought to Edward a captive in her cradle : she was reared, and professed a nun in the convent of Sempringham with her cousin Gladis, the only daughter of prince David, brother to Llewellyn, whj( h prince was executed by Edward. Thus ended the line of Roderick tlie Great. — Piers Langtoft. Piers mentions his personal acquaintance with thtse royal votaries. ELEANORA OP CASTILE. 435 denly, from an )tive or decided aself; the nekt iling above him ng. From this pecial protection irpose; he attri- igham. rature.* In the •e is a treatise of iatin into French ir her patronage.^ tiMxl du Marche, with miniature jned by another died, after bring- B, urged by the 3 subjects regard. The ambiguous lat a prince bom ig of the whole war, terminating gold coronet of by lord Mortimer offered by prince issor. constant presence of Castile. y own insppction of the less true j but Warton •arcliie.' Tlie volume Bubtlees was carried to to Edward a captive in •nvent of Sempringlmm I, brother to Llewellyn, e line of Roderick tlic cquaintance with these of king Edward, to keep down the spirit of the people ; and queen Eleanora, who had followed him in all his Welsh cam- paigns, kept her court at Bhuddlan-castle in the summer of 1383. Here her sixth daughter, the princess Isabella, was bom a native of Wales.* Early in spring, 1384, Edward carried his queen to his newly-built castle of Caernarvon, a stronghold he had just finished to awe the insurgents of the principality. This truly royal fortress, according to the anti- quary Pennant, appears at present, in its external state, pre- cisely as when queen Eleanora first entered the stupendous gateway so many centuries ago. The walls are studded by defensive round towers; they have two principal gates, the « east facing the Snowdon mountains, the west conunanding the Menai. The entrance to the castle is very stately, beneath a noble tower, on the front of which appears the statue of the great Edward,'^ finely carved from the hfe, draw- ing a dagger with a stem air, as if menacing his unwilling subjects. This entrance had four portcuUisses, and every requisite of strength. ; f fixf'' m^^ To this mighty castle Edward brought Eleanora, at a time when her situation promised an increase to the royal family. The Eagle tower, through whose gate the affectionate Elea- nora entered, is at a prodigious height from the ground at the fcirthest end, and could only be approached by a drawbridge, supported on masses of opposing rock. Every one who beholds it is struck with its grand position : it is still, by the tradition of the district, called * queen Eleanor's gate ;' nor was the Eagle tower an eyrie by any means too lofty for the security of the royal Eleanora and her expected infant, since liost of the Snowdon barons still held out, and the rest of the principality was fiercely chafing at the EngUsh curb. This consideration justifies the tradition which, passing by the suite of apartments shown as the queen's, points out a httle dark den, built in the thickness of the walls, as the chamber where the fpithftil queen gave birth to her son Edward. The chamber is twelve feet in length and eight in breadth, and is * Stowe. * His noble portrait, engraved by Vcrtue in Carto, is taken from thia statue. F f2 ' . 4 486 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. >r- without a fire-place.' Its discomforts were somewhat modi, lied by hangings of tapestry, of which some marks of tenters still appear in the walls.^ Queen Eleanora was the first person who used tapestry as garniture for walls in England, and she never needed it more than in her dreaiy lying-in chamber at Caernarvon.' The prince was bom April 25th, when fires were not indispensable in a small, close chamber. As a soldier's wife, used to attend her lord in all campaigns, from Syria to Scotland, the queen had, in all probability, met with far worse accommodations, than in the forlorn chamber in the Eagle tower.* The queen certainly provided a Welsh ' Pennant and BoswelL \ 3 It was the primitive office of the grooms of the chamber to hang up the tapestry, which was always carried in progress with the royal baggage, and sent forwards with the purveyor and grooms of the chamber; so that the queen found the stone walls of her sleeping chamber in oomi'ortable order for her reception. ' Among the memorials of queen Eleanora's sojomn at Caernarvon-castle, the oradle of her infant son is still shown. It is hung by rings and staples to U-o upright pieces of wood, like a cot ; it is of rude workmanship, yet with much pretence to ornament, having many mouldings, though the nails are left rough. It is made of oak, and is in length three feet two inches, its width one foot eight inches at the head, and one foot five at the feet ; it has rockers, and is crowued by two birds, — whether doves or eagles antiquaries have not yet decided.— Boswell's Antiquities. '' A description of those apartments, by Mr. F. Williams, seems taken from the spot. " After ascending a flight of stairs (in the Et^le tower), the visitor gains admission to a drcular chamber, an ante-room, through which he passes to another of larger dimensions : this is ' the queen's chamber,' and it has a fG>e-place, a rather capacious one, apparently coeval with the building. Beyond the queen's chamber is a room uniform in size with the other, and beyond this two smaller cham- bers ; the most remote, steps descend to a passage leading to ' the king's tower,' while the ante-room leading to the queen's chamber forms a convenient entrance to her state apartments in the Eagle tower." Tliis is a valuable picture of Eleanora's suite of rooms in Caernarvon-castle, as she afterwards enjoyed them, and it well agrees with the arrangements of all private apartments of royalty constructed in the middle ages. Nevertheless, it is necessai-y to consider the state of Caemarvon-castle, — not commenced before the death of Llewellyn m 1282, and yet inhabited as a fortress early in the year 1284, far surpassing in oelerity of erection Richard Casax de Lion's castle of Galliard, buUt in one twelvemonth. But Richai-d's " saucy castle," as he called it, was built in the land of castle-building, with stoi-es of Caen stone close at hand ; neither did he need it as a lady's bower, to shelter a queen and infant son. The interior accommodations of Cacmarvnn-castle could scarcely have been finished for Eleanora's accommodation at her accouchement, a few months after this fortress was coramen(«d, and this is why we cleave to the Welsh tradition, faithftilly given by the Welsh antiquarian Pennant, who points out a small strong room as Elsa&ora's lyiss-in cbsmber^ ELBANORA OF CASTILE. 437 niifse for her infant :' she thus proved her usual good sense, by complying with the prejudices of the country. ^, • t*'!- •' Edward I. wa? at Rhuddlan-castle^ negotiating with the despairing magnates of Wales, when news was brought him by Grifl&th Lloyd, a Welsh gentleman, that the queen had made him father of a living son of surpassing beauty. The king was transported with joy ; he knighted the Welshman on the spot, and made him a magnificent donation of lands.' The king hastened directly to Caernarvon, to see his Elea- nora and her boy ; and three days after, the castle was the rendezvous of all the chiefs of North Wales, who met to tender their final submission to Edward I., and to implore him, as their lord-paramount, to appoint them a prince who was a native of their own country, and whose native tongue was neither French nor Saxon, which they assured him they could not understand.' Edward told them he would imme- diately appoint them a prince, who could speak neither English nor French. The Welsh magnates, expecting he was a kinsman of their own royal line, declared they would instantly accept him as their prince, if his character was void of reproach ; whereupon the king ordered his infant son to be brought in and presented to them, assuring the assembly that " he was just bom a native of their country; that his character was unimpeached ; that he could not speak a word of English or French; and that, if they pleased, the first words he uttered should be Welsh." The fierce mountaineers httle expected such a ruler : they had, however, no alternative but submission, and, with as good a grace as they might, kissed the tiny hand which was to sway their sceptre, and vowed fealty to the babe of the faithful Eleanora.* The queen soon changed her residence to her magnificent palace of Conway-castle, where all the elegances of an age further advanced in luxury than is generally supposed, were ' There is an entry in the household-book of Edward II. of twenty shillings, which the king presented to Mary of Caernarvon, his nurse, fop coming all the way from Wales to see him. ' Pennant's Wales. • Speed. * Stowe minutely details this incident, the authenticity of which is not only supported by the local traditioaa of North Wales, but by the ^ant authority of Selden. •;'! ,*f. "vA.Vi I 1. 1 1 ; i ' ► ; 1. ' n :iii ' 1 . ' \ t ; [ . i • ■ i !! 1 IJ 438 ELEANORA OP CASTILE*,' assembled round her. Many traces of her abode at Conway exist: among others, her state bed-chamber retains some richness of ornament ; it opens on a terrace commanding a beautiful view. Leading from the chamber is an arched recess, called by tradition 'queen Eleanora's oriel;' it is raised by steps from the floor, and beautifully adorned with painted glass wiadows. Here the queen of England, during her lev^e, or rising, sat to receive the ladies qualified to be presented to her, while her tirewoman combed and braided those long tresses* which are the glory of a Spanish donna, and which her statues show Eleanora of Castile to have pes. sessed. A poem, contemporary with this queen, minutely describes these state-toilet places :^ — " In her oriel there she was, ... < Closed well with royal glass ; Filled it was with imagery, f Every window by and by." The August following the birth of prince Edward saw the death of prince Alphonso, the heir of England, — an event which deeply afflicted his mother. The same year brought calamity to her brother, king Alphonso X. of Castile,' who was the most extraordinary person of his time ; but wrapping himself up in his mathematical studies in the latter part of his reign, his son, Sancho the Brave, deposed him. This event was a source of great grief to Eleanora, for her royal brother was tenderly beloved by her ; she had named her favourite child after him, and now, in his reverse of fortune, she urged her royal lord to interfere with her nephew Sancho* for the ' This custom, derived from the middle ages, was continued in France till the Revolution. The word • levee,' still used at our court, is derived fi-om it. ' Pennant. ' This king, sumamed H Sdbio, employed the most learned men, not only Europeans, but Arabs and Jews, to assist him in constructing the celebrated Alphonsine tables, so long the standard of astronomical calculations, showing, withal, some glimpses of the light afterwards cast on science by Galileo and sir Isaac Newton. Alphonso paid his learned assistants forty thousand crowns for their services, a benefaction infinitely resented by his combative subiects, who took their monarch and his astronomers for conjurors, and were infiunated tliat a king should bestow treasure on any peaceful profession.-See Atlas Geogi-aphiqne. Alphonso pursued his studies in quiet when imprisoned, consoling himself by con- adering that his subjects were fools. - miiuy papers on thia subject appear is the Feeders. 'If' l-* ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 489 restoration of her brother. The interposition was in vain, for the learned Alphonso died in confinement. The death of king Alexander of Scotland, in 1285, opened a new prospect for still further aggrandizing the progeny of queen Eleanora. The heiress of Scotland, the princess Mar- garet of Norway, great niece to Edward I., was, by the con- sent of the nobles of Scotland, solemnly betrothed to Edward of Caernarvon, prince of Wales, and evary prospect appeared that the island crowns would be happily united in the persons of the infant son of Eleanora and the little queen of Scotland, After this pacification of the whole island, the king and queen resided three years in Aquitaine. Eleanora then gave birth to her seventh and eighth daughters, the princesses Beatrice I and Berengaria. When the queen returned to England, she was urged to devote her fourth daughter, the princess Mary, to the cloister. Her reluctance to relinquish this child is noted by most chro- niclers, and produced more than one pathetic epistle from dignitaries of the church on the impropriety of " withholding from heaven a chosen lamb from her numerous flock."* Among the other admirable qualities of Eleanora, we find freedom from the prejudices of her era. She kept a happy medium between the bold infidelitj' of her philosophic brother, Alphonso the mathematician,^ and the superfluous devotion of the middle ages. The princess Mary was, however, veiled at the age of ten years, at Ambresbury, 1289. The year after her profession the queen added a ninth daughter, the princess Blanche, to her family. Eleanora reared and educated her numerous train of beautiful princesses in a retired angle of Westminster-palace, to which was given, on account of their residence there, the appellation of 'the Maiden-hall." ' There are innumerable grants recorded in the Foedera to the nun-princess. Her father grants the forest of Savemake, and other woodlands, for fire for l\er chamber; the port of Southampton is taxed for oil for her lamp, and for wine for her table. ^ Alphonso is said to have declarod, " that he could have devised a better way of ordering the movements of the celestial bodies :" this speech led to his deposi- tion. The fact is, he was not satisfied with his own astronomical tables, and foresaw subsequent improvements. ' Brayley and Britton's Palace of Westminster, 114. This portion of the old pftJace was destroyed by fire, a little time after the queen's death. » !r 1 1 -I HI .i; ( ' . 'I % rr 440 ELEANOBA OF CASTILE. Three of the queen's elder daughters were n'^. tried, or betrothed, in 1290. The princess-royal, Eleanora, was affianced to Alphonso prince of Arragon : this prince died soon after, when she married the duke of Barr. The next sister, Joanna of Acre, in her eighteenth year, renowned for her beauty and high spirit, was married with great pomp at the monastery of the knights of St. John, Clerkenwell, to the premier peer of England, Gilbert the Red, earl of Gloucester. A few weeks later, queen Eleanora assisted at a still statelier ceremony, when her third daughter, Margaret, then fifteen, wedded at Westminster-abbey John, the second duke of Brabant.' The king, it has been observed, was subject to violent fits of rage in the earlier periods of his life. At the wedlock of his daughter Margaret, he gave one of his esquires a rap with his wand without just cause :' he paid him 13/. 6s. Sd. as compensation, whether for the indignity or the injury is not noted. iMi^v'*' ' Our historians dwell much on the magnificence displayed at the nuptials of these princesses. A list of the plate used in the queen's household will prove that the court of Eleanora had attained a considerable degree of luxury. The plate was the work of Ade, the king's goldsmith, and the description of the rich vessels furnished by this member of the goldsmiths' company has been brought to light by modem research.' Thirty-four pitchers of gold and silver, calculated to hold water or wine; ten gold chalices, of the value of 140/. to 292/. each ; ten cups of silver gilt, or silver white, some with stands of the same, or enamelled; more than one hundred smaller silver cups, value from 41. to 118/. each; also cups of jasper, plates and dishes of silver, gold salts, alms-bowls, silver hanapers or baskets; cups of benison, with holy sentences wrought thereon ; enamelled silver jugs, adorned with effigies of the king in a surcoat and hood, and with two effigies of * The young duchtsss did not immediately quit England, but had a 8q)arate establiihment, as appears by the following entry in Edward II. 'b household-books: " Pwd Robert de Ludham thirteen shillings and sixpence, who was porter to the king's daughter, the lady Margaret, duchess of Brabant, when she maintained a household different from the king's son." * Botfield. * By Mr. Herbert, City librarian, in his History of City Compaiiies. ELBANORA OF CASTILE. 441 queen Eleanora. It is generally supposed that Tom Coiyate, of queer memory, introduced the use of forks from Italy, so lately as the time of James I. But our Proven9al Plan- tagenet queens did not ffeed with their fingers, whatever their English subjects might » o, since in the list of Eleanora's plate occurs a pair of knives with silver sheaths, enamelled, with a fffrk of crystal, and a silver fork' handled with ebony and ivory. In the list of royal valuables were likewise combs and looking- glasses of silver-gilt, and a bodkin of silver in a leather case ; five serpents' tongues, set in a standard of silver ; a royal crown set with rubies, emeralds, and great pearls ; another Mith Indian pearls ; and one great crown of gold, ornamented with emeralds, sapphires of the East, rubies, and large oriental pearls. This seems to have been Eleanora's state crown, used at the coronation feast. Above all, there is a gold ring with a great sapphire, wrought and set by no other hand but that of St. Dunstan. " ' ^' •^'" ^'.Xmi^^' Eleanora's royal lord was not always cross and savage at festivities, given to rap heads with his wand,' or throw coronets behind the fire, a freak in which he afterwards indulged. The chronicles of 1290 record more than one merry scene which took place with the king and the queen's ladies. There is an old custom, still remembered in. Warwickshire, called ' heav- ing.' On Easter-Monday, the women servants of every household clamorously enter the chamber or sitting-room of the master of the family, or any " stranger beneath his roof," and, seating him in a chair, lift him therein from the ground, and reftise to set him down till he compounds for his liberty by a gratuity. Seven of queen Eleanora's ladies, on the Easter-Monday of 1390, unceremoniously invaded the chamber of king Edward, and seizing their majestic master, proceeded to * heave him ' in his chair, till he was glad to pay a fine of fourteen pounds to enjoy " his oyna. peace," and be set at liberty.^ One day of the Easter holidays, the queen being then at her Waltham-palace, the king spied her laun- ' See likewise Record Commission, p. 78, where forks are enumerated among tlie items of Edward the First's domestic utensils. •\ ."■ ! i < ;h 1, ! * Wardrobe'book of Edward I., ful. 456. Ibid. :m k1 442 \H t^ tot ELEANORA OF CASTILE. dress, Matilda of Waltham, among the lookers-on in the court- yard while the hounds were coupUng and the gallant hunters mounting, most hkely for the Londoners' Easter-hunt. Being in a merry mood, king Edward wagered a fleet hunter that Matilda could not ride hunting with them, and be in at the death of the stag. She accepted the bet, mounted the horse and rode with such success, that Edward was fain to redeem his good steed for forty shillings.' A large Spanish ship came that summer to Portsmouth, from which the queen was sup. pUed with some of her native fruits. She bought one frail of Seville figs, one of raisins, a bale of dates, two hundred and thirty pomegranates, fifteen citrons, and seven oranges.* ' The autumn of the year 1290 brought tlireatening clouds to the prosperity of the island kingdoms, and to the royal family of queen Eleanora. The little queen, Margaret of Scotland, was to be sent this year from Norway to Scotland, and thence, by agreement, to the court of England, that she might be educated under the care of the admirable queen of Edward I. The bishop of St. Andrew's wrote to king Ed- ward, that a report was spread of the young queen's death' on her homeward voyage. Edwai-d, who had already sent the bishop of Durham' and six regents to take possession of Scot- land, in the names of Edward of Caernarvon and Margaret of Norway,* was startled into prompt action at these alarming tidings. He took a hasty farewell of his beloved queen, and charged her to follow him with all convenient speed. Edward had not entered Scotland when the fatal news reached him that Eleanora, the faithful companion of his life, in travelling through Lincolnshire to join him previously to his entering Scotland, had been seized with an autumnal ' MS. in the Tower, quoted by B. Botfield, esq., in his learned work. Manners and Household Expenses of England, xlviii. 2 Ibid. ' She died at the Orkneys, it is supposed of the fatigue of a very stomiy voyage, being driven to those islands by violent weather, October 1290.-See Walsinghaiii. Her death was the greatest national calamity that ever befell Scotland. Au elegant female poet. Miss Holford, says, — " The north wind sobs where Margaret sleeps. And still in tears of blood her memory Scotland steeps." * From the Latin of Wikes. ^ Act. Pub., and Buchanan. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 448 learned work, Manners fever at Herdoby, near Grantham. It seems, by existing documents,' that the queen's iUness was lingering, but did not take a fatal character until a low days before the king was summoned. Her wardrobe-book notes the payment of one mark to Henry of Montpclicr, for syrup and other medicines bought at Lincoln, October 28, for the queen at Herdeby. Master Leopturdo, Eleanora's household pliysician, was Uke- wise in attendance on her, besides a leech in the service of the king of Arragon. The queen rewarded them in her will : to Leopardo she gave twenty marks, and to the Arrjigonese leech twelve and a-half ; for she left an elaborate will, which seems to have contained legacies to the various persons who attended on her in her last sickness. Her two damsels, Joamia and IsabeUa de Camville,' were munificently dowered by her. Many payments of five, ten, or twenty marks are paid them towards their marriages, and sometimes for care concerning the queen's soul ; from all which it may be fairly concluded they were the queen's attendants in her illness. Their mother hkewise received twenty pounds, as arrears of a salary from Easter to Michaelmas.' Her humbler servants were not forgotten : she left a legacy to William her tailor, and to the cook of her daughter the princess Eleanora, for services performed. t Ambition, at the strong call of conjugal love, for once released its grasp on the mighty heart of Edward. In com- parison with Eleanora, dead or dying, the coveted crown of Scotland was nothing in his estimation. He turned south- ward instantly when the fatal news of her danger reached him ; but though he travelled with the utmost speed, he arrived too late to see her living once more. His admirable queen had expired, November 29th, at the house of a gentleman named Weston. She died, according to our calculation, in the forty- seventh year of her age. The whole affairs of Scotland,however pressing they might be, were obhterated for a time from the mind of the great Edward, > Wardrobe-book of Edward I., fol. 18, b. 47. ' Daughters of sii- Robert de Camville. Manners and Household Expenses of England, by B. Botiield, esq. ; Executores Dominse Aliouore, Cousortis Edwtu-di Priml • Ibid, 103. ' 1 : ■ : 1 ilJ ■ 1 ■ t_,in J 444 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. I. k \ t 'I ,u i;i by the acute sorrow he suffered for the death of Eleanora j' nop till he had pmd the duties he considered due to her breathlcsg clay, would he attend to the slightest temporal buMiuesN. l^ the bitterest grief he followed her corpse in person, during thirteen days, in the progress of the royal funeral from (Jraiit- haifl to Westminster. At ths end of every stage the royal bier rested, surrounded by ils attendants, in some central part of a great town, till the neighbouring ecclesiastics came to meet it in solemn procession, and to place it before the hii^h altar of the principal church. At every one of these resting. places the royal mourner vowed to erect a cros' in mtmory of the chh-e reine, as he passionately called '. ' >st l^ileunora. Thirteen of these splendid monuments of h\>\ aii».i;tion once existed : those of Northampton and W 'H7; n' still remain models of architectural beauty. T» • 'cremouj of making the sites for these crosses is thus uc«t;iued by the chronicler of Dunstable : " Her body passed through Dunstable and rested one night, and two precious cloths were given us, and eighty pounds of wax. And when the body of the queen was de- parting from Dunstable, her bier rested in the centre of the market-place, till the king's chancellor and the great men then and there present had marked a fitting place where they might afterwards erect, at the royal expense, a crosa of wonderful size, — our prior being there present, and sprinkhng holy water." The principal citizens of London, with their magistrates, came several miles on the north road, clad in black hoods and mourning cloaks, to meet the royal corpse and join the solemn procession. The hearse rested, previously to its admission into Westminster-abbey, at the spot now occupied by the statue of Charles I., which commanded a grand view of the abbey, the hall, and palace of Westminster. The king, in his letter to the n^bot of Cluny, desires prayers for the soul of her "whom livii;.; i. ; 'oved, an-^ vhom dead he shall never cease to love.'' ai . ne great expenses of crosses erected, her funeral,* and her beautiful tomb and statue, were paid by ' WalsingliPm and Speed. • Waltham-cross was built where Elcanora's corpse turned from the hipU north road, to rent for the night at Waltham-abliey, which is situated about a mile from the spot. ' Foedora, vol. i. p. 743. ELEANOBA OF CA8TILB. 445 jfEleanora;' nor to her hreathlcss ral busiuesH. In n person, during leral from (Iraut- y Htage the royal some central part lesiastics came to it before the high ! of these resting. ros' in naemoryof L *• At Kleanora. his aiiv-'ition once : \n' still remain, on} of making the the chronicler of nstable and rested ^en us, and eighty he queen was de- the centre of the he great men then where they might irosy of wonderful cling holy water." ;heir magistrates, black hoods and nd join the solemn to its admissiou occupied by the rrand view of the The king, in lyers for the soul ad he shall never of crosses erected, itue, were paid by turnwl from tlu- hipK eh is situated about a 1. i. p. 743. n her executors, there is some reason to suppose her own funds ,ligchH?7 d the costs. It is neeN i 'I. n < { (1 \\ \\\ ^fy 448 ELEANOBA OF CASTILE. sorrow-stricken she consoled as became her dignity, and she made them friends that were at discord."' Civilization made rapid advances imder the auspices of a court, so weU regulated as that of Eleanora of Castile. Wales, in particular, emerged from its state of barbansm in some degree. The manners of the Welsh were so savage at the time when Eleanora kept her court in North Wales, that her royal lord was forced to revive an ancient Welsh law, tlireatening severe punishments on any one " who should strike the queen, or snatch any thing out of her hand." The Enghsh had httle reason to pride themselves on their supe- riority. Although there was no danger of their beating the queen in her hall of state, they had pelted her predecessor from London-bridge. Moreover, in the commencement of the reign of Edward I., London was so ill governed, that mur- ders were committed in the street at noon-day.^ Sculpture, architecture, and c^u * in brass aaid bronze, were not only encouraged by kiiig- Edward and his queen, but brought to great perfection by the English artists whom they patriotically employed. Carving in wood, an art purely English, now richly decorated both ecclesiastical and domestic struc- tures. Eleanora of CastUe first introduced the use of tapestry as hangings for walls : it was a fashion appertaining to Moorish luxury, and adopLc.^. by the Spaniards. The coldness of our chmate must have made it indispensable to the fair daughter ' The common people have not dealt so justly hy her ; the name of this virtuous woman and excellent queen is only known by them to be slandered by means of a popular ballad, called " A Warning against Pride j being the Fall of Queen Eleanora, wife to Edward I. of England, who for her pride sank into the earth at Queenhithe, and rose agfun at Charing-cross, after killing the Lady Mayoress." Some faint traces of the quarrels between the city of London and Eleanor of Provence regarding Queenhithe had been heard by the writer of this ballad, who confounded her with her daughter-in-law, whose name was connected with Charing-cross. ' The vigorous government of Edward soon crushed these evils. He made it penal by proclamation for any person but the great lords to be seen in London streets with either spear or buckler, after the parson of St. Martin's-le-Oiand had nmg out his curfew-bell, — a proof that the curfew was rung «»« late as the tmie of Edward I. It had become an instrmnent of civU police, rather than military despotism. The highways, on which we have seen Henry III. and his queen robbed in open day, were now cleared of all wood, excepting high trees, tor tbrty feet on each side. The first clock in England was set up in a clock-tower, opposite to Westminster-palace. — Stowe. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 449 iignity, and she ie auspices of a Castile. Wales, rbansm in some ;o savage at the rth Wales, that ient W^elsh law, B " who should ler hand." The 38 on their supe- heir beating the L her predecessor )nimencement of ^emed, that mur- rass and bronze, id his queen, but irtists whom they rt purely English, I domestic struc- le use of tapestry lining to Moorish coldness of our the fair daughter |e name of this virtuous slandered by means of ig the Fall of Qneen 3 sank into the earth , the Lady Mayoress." ,ondon and Eleanor of liter of this ballad, who was connected with bse evils. He made it i to be seen in London iMartin's-le-Oiand had Tinjy iw late aa the time k rather than militai^ [ry III. and his (lueeii Ig high trees, for tbrty up in a clock-tower, of the South, chilled with the damp stone-walls of English gothic halls and chambers. In the preceding centuries, tapestry was solely worked to decorate altars, or to be dis- played as pictorial exhibitions, in solemn commemoration of great events, like the Bayeux tapestry of Matilda of Flanders. The robes worn by the court of Eleanora of Castile were graceful ; the close under-gown, or kirtle, was made high in the neck, with tight sleeves and a train, over which an elegant robe with full fur sleeves was worn. The ugly gorget, an imitation of the helmets of the knights, executed in white cambric or lawn, out of which was cut a visor for the face to peep through, deformed the head-tire of some of the ladies of her court, and is to be seen on the effigy (otherwise most elegant) of Aveline countess of Lancaster, her sister-in-law. But Eleanora had a better taste in dress; no gorget hides her beautiful throat and fine shoulders, but her ringlets flow on each side of her face, and fall on her neck from under the regal diadem. The ladies of Spain are celebrated for the beauty of their hair, and we see by her statues that Eleanora did not conceal her tresses. The elegance and simphcity of the dress adopted by this lovely queen, might form a model for female costume in any era.' ^j. , . There is Httle more than tradition to support the assertion, that to Eleanora of Castile England owe,«j^,the introduction of the famous breed of sheep for which Cotswold hr. : been so famous. A few of these animals were introduced, by the care of the patriotic queen, from her native Spain ; and they had increased to that degree in about half a century, that their wool became the staple riches of England. It is said' (authority wanting) that Anthony Bee, bishop of Dmliam, having obtained possession of Eltham-palace, originally a royal demesne, after building superbly there, bequeathed it with its improvements to queen Eleanora. The last time the name of Eleanora of Castile appears in our national records is in the parliamentary rolls, and from Nonnan French we translate the following supplication : — " The executors of OHver de Ingram pray to recover before * Pennant. ^ Hist, of Eltham Palace. VOL. I. rU O G 1 ! :^'>' 450 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. the king's auditors three hundred and fifty marks, owed by dame Alianore, late queen and companion to our lord king Edward I., and the said executors show, that though our lord the king had given command to have it paid, it is not yet done ; therefore they humbly crave that he wiU be pleased to give a new order for that same, on account of the health of the soul of the said queen Alianore, his companion." By this document we learn, from the best authority, that creditors, in the times when Catholicism was predominant, considered they kept a detaining hold on the souls even of royal debtors. Moreover, in the same parliament the poor prioress and her nuns of St. Helen present a pathetic petition to the king, representing " how earnestly they have prayed for the soul of madame the queen, late companion to king Edward; and they hope for perpetual alms for the sustenance of their poor convent in London, in consideration of the pains tliey have taken/'' Eleanora of Castile left seven living daughters and one son. Only four of her daughters were bestowed in marriage. The prmcess-royal was united, in 1292, to the duke of Ban* : the nuptial festivities were royally celebrated at Bristol.^ The king paid Husso de ThomviUe, valet of the count of Barr, for bring- ing him news of the birth of her eldest son, the enormous sura of fifty poimds ! But this boy was the next heir to England after Edward of Caernarvon, as Edward I. settled the suc- cession on the daughters of Eleanora of Castile ; first on the countess of Barr and her progeny, then on Joanna of Acre, and all the seven princesses then alive, in succession. Isabella,^ the sixth daughter of king Edward and Eleanora » Folio 1, Par. Rolls, 475. ' The Rummons for the knights of the adjacent counties to attend at Bristol the marriage-feast of this princess is extant in the records of Bristol, kindly com- municated by T. Garrard, esq. ' The entries in the household-hook of Edward I., 1298, preserve some of the pai"ticulars of this marriage : " To Maud MaJcejoy, for dancing before Edward prince of Wales in the king's hall at Ipswich, two shillings. To sir Petir Champrcnt, in lieu of the bridal bed of the countess of Holland, the king's daughter, which he ought to have had as his fee when she married the earl of Holland at Ipswich, twenty marks. I'o Reginald Page, to John the vidulator, and Fitz-Simon, minstrels, for making minstrelsy the day of the marriage of tlie king's daughter, the countess of Holland, fifty shillings esuAu" m ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 451 of Castile, was married at Ipswich (the year before her father's wedlock with Marguerite of France) to the count of Holland. Some circumstance connected with the wedding of the princess Isabella had put the royal widower of Eleanora of Castile in a violent fit of anger, for he threw the bride's coronet behind the fire ; a freak which would never have been known, if the keeper of his privy-purce' had not been obhged to account for the outlay of money " to make good a large ruby and an emerald lost out of the coronet, when the king's grace was pleased to throw it behind the fii-e." A strange stormy scene, lost m the dimness of time, is assuredly connected with this incident, which occurred at Ipswich, January 18, 1297. It is doubtful if the young bride ever left England : two years afterwards her lord died, and she was left a widow, childless. She afterwards married the earl of Hereford, Humphrey de Bohun. Another entry mentions the birth of her first child : "October 30, 1303. To Robert le Norreys, servant to the lady Isabella, countess of Hereford, the king's daughter, for bringing news to the prince [of Wales] of the birth of her first son, 26^. 13*. 4d." Edward I. survived most of his beloved Eleanora's children. Joanna of Acre died soon after her father. The countess of Barr preceded him to the tomb, not long after the birth of her second son in 1298, and the countess of Hereford survived him but four years. The nun-princess, and the unfortunate Edward II., were the only individuals that reached the term of middle life out of the numerous family that Edward I. had by Eleanora of Castile. 1 Wardrobe-book of Edward I., foL 47. O G 2 li IK::: ■<■■,{ ; s i'K i V ' :*■ I ^ I f .;■ '. - \ ! i ^ i' -J ^i ? f f -^2 . .aa ( '-'^9^^B ::;w:.i;;^H ''"li '-^^MH ' ^'o^^H^I MARGUERITE OF FRANCE, SECOND QUEEN OF EDWARD I. The family of Marguerite — DisconHolate widowerhood of Edward I. — Demands Marguerite's sister, Blanche la Belle — Edward contracted to Marguerite- Espousals — Maids of honour — Edward leaves his bride for the Scotch war- Queen follows Edward — Lives at Brotherton — Eldest son horn there — Left at Cawood — Queen goes to Scotland — Danger of journey owing to Wallace— Her coui't at Dunfermline — High festival at Westminster-palace — Marguerite's . gold circlet — Birth of the queen's second son — Queen's kindness— Robert Bruce's crown — Queen saves a goldsmith's life — Benevolence to the mayor of Winchester — Residence at Winchester — Death of king Edward — Happy wed- lot;k of Marguerite — Her good qualities — Her historiographer John o' London — His sketch of Edward's character — Anecdotes of Edward — Lamentations : of the royal widow — Marguerite's visit to France — Friendship with her son-in- , law — ^Widowhood — Early death — Burial — Charities — Foundations— Debts- Children — Present descendants. The early death of the brave son and successor of St. Louis, king Phihp le Hardi, left his youngest daughter, the princess Marguerite, fatherless at a very tender age. She was brought up under the guardianship of her brother Phihp le Bel, and carefully educated by her mother queen Marie, a learned luid virtuous princess, to whom Joinville dedicated his immortal memoirs.' Marguerite early showed indications of the same piety and innate goodness of heart which, notwithstanding some superfluity of devotion, really distinguished the character of her grandfather. » Of the life of St. Louis. #■ Edward I. — Demands acted to Marguerite— e for the Scotch war- on born thei-e — Left at ly owing to Wallace— )r-palace — Marguerite's en's kindness — Kobert )lence to the mayor of Edward — Happy wed- rapher John o' London Bdward — Lamentations ndship with her son-ln- -Foundations — Debts— sssor of St. Louis, ;hter, the princess She was brought Philip le Bel, and trie, a learned ;md ated his immortal itions of the same 1, notwithstanding shed the character ^: \Qi\fr } 1 ( -j f •■1 1 K I \ f 1 ; 1 " ' 1 \ 1 ■ ■ I. L t 'If ■I X 1 1 1 1 jijr u,^^ Ma •'■: -.. ■*• I. JT"- MARGUERITE OF FRANUJ::, SECOND QUEEN OF KDWAJID.I. ■ jily of Mfti^CTito - Disconsolaie widu'.vnrh«xxl of Etlvrud I i>, Mt, fiw^rite's csUtcr, 1M;tnclie lu Uclle — Edward iVDntnittofi Ui MH.-.ri«n's kimlnew. Voh^; Bnjcc'is norvi, — Qur-en wives r; goldsmith^ life— ikwovoli'iia* U< Mi" vihvt o! Winchctor^— liesideiK* ftt Winehpster — Death of king Eflwnrd -H'jii| v ,(,i| lot-k of Maj'Kuerit*' -i'er ijood qualitios — Her historiopraphpi- John o' l„.i(l(i, — Hii! hkt'tch of Edward's dianioter - Auccdott«« of E<)\ia'i L;t!ir;!;< .,,.,. of tho royift wjdcw MftrgucTite's visit to France —I'Vioiidxhti: w.t}i Liw —Widowhood — Karly deaiii- Cluldt«>n- PiDHcnt dt-'.-cx-ndantt). ■Burial — Oliaritit's— Fuflintftti'flifi li'l ' hB -ip ;fj The erf)\ doiilh of tht* linivo son and succeHsor of St. I ;■' king Philip le llrmli, left his youngest (laiighti-r, the pr' ..■ JMVu'gncnte, falLorless at h very tender age. Sin* ■wii;> hi ou, tip imder the guardianship of her brother Pliilip le Hoi, . earefally eilueated by her mother qncen Tvlnrie, a leanu'!! . vutaouf. princess, to whom Joinville dcdicnted his iiY;iiin;i,j niemoirs.' Marguerite early showed indienliuns of tin -i ;piet^' and inuHtc goodness of heart which, uotnt , t ■'.i^'"^•- VMwwu --H^qiV^ ■•*'''' |sv *r of St. ^ v^^'i? •.1;T. tllO pr'n;v'- Siu'* Mil's hi-Mu.:' h,;Uj» le Krl. ..' irvans ol" till -"11 J' ' iii--if^ / /''f --z^, ci^m^t^MUi'' /-/ a-f'^'ta/^y'^ ^ \\\ i i L ^! 1 i ? i • J- i . > il '■ 'i ' \ ^ti 'li'i \ 'n ■ ! ! i \ U London , Uenrv Colbavn, jPSl MARGUERITE OF RAKCl. 453 If Marguerite of Prance iwssessed aiiy comelmerw of her claims to beauty were wholly overlooked by coiitemj iuiwi, who surveyed with admiration the exquisite personi* f ker elder brother and sister, and sumamed them, by omujon consent, Philip le Bel and Blanche la Belle. The eldest princess of France was full six years older than Marguerite,' and was, withal, the reigning beauty of Europe when Edward I. was rendered the most disconsolate of widowers by the death of Eleanora of Castile. If an historian may be believed, who iu 80 completely a contemporary that he ceased to write before the second Edward ceased to reign. Marguerite was substituted, in a marriage-treaty commenced by Edward for the beautiful Blanche, by a diplomatic manoeuvre unequalled for craft since the days of Leah and Rachel. It has been seen, that grief in the energetic mind of Edward I. assumed the character of intense activity; but after all was done that himian ingenuity could contrive, or that the gorgeous ceremonials of the Romish church could devise, of funeral honours to the memory of the chkre reine, his beloved Eleanora, the warUke king of England sank into a morbid state of melancholy. His contemporary chronicler empha« tically says, — " His solace all was reft sith she was from him gone. On fell things he thought, and waxed heavy as lead. For sadness hun o'ennastered since Eleanor was dead." ' A more forlorn widowerhood no pen can portray than is thus described by the monk Piers. Nevertheless, it is exceedingly curious to observe how anxious Edward was to ascertain the qualifications of the princess Blanche. His ambassadors were commanded to give a minute description, not only of her face and manners, but of the turn of her waist, the form of her foot and of her hand ; likewise ' sa faqoun,' — perhaps dress and demeanour. The result of this inquisition was, that Blanche was perfectly lovely, for, to use the words wllch describe her, a more beautiful creature could not be found. Moreover, sire Edward, at his mature age, became violently in ' See Piers of Langtofb, corroborated by Speed's calculation of the age of Marguerite. ^ Piers of Langtoft. (iij :! i : ) 1 ^ 1 ■ i i ■ 1 J 4S4 MATIOUKPITE OF FRANCE. r ,' , ' love (from report) of the chaniiH of Uluiiclie la Belle, lljc royiil pair begun to correspond, luul the damsel adnionishctl him by letter that he must in all things submit to her brother, king Philip. In truth, the extreme wish of king Edward tu be again miited in wedlock with a fair and loving queen in. duced him to comply with conditions too hard even for a young bride to v,\iuit, who had a luuul, a waist^ and a foot perfect as those possessed by Bhmche la Belle. Philip ^\^^, manded that Gaacony should be given up by Edward for ever as a settlement on any posterity Edward might liave by his beautiful sister. To this our king agreed ; but when he sur- rendered the province, according to the feudal tenure/ to his suzerain, the treacherous Philip refused to give it up, or let him marry his beautiful sister ; and just at this time the name of Marguerite, the youngest sister of Blanche, a child of little more than eleven years of age, is found in the marriage-treaty between England and France. The consternation of the king's brother, Edmund of Lan- caster, when he found the villanous part Philip le Bel meant to play in the detention of the duchy of (luienne, is very apparent. His letter to king Edward assumes the style of familiar correspondence, and proves at the same time that earl Edmund was with his consort at the French court, negotiating the royal wedlock. " After," says earl Edmimd, " my lord and brother had surrendered, for the peace of Christendom, this territory of Gascony to the will of France, king Philip assured me, by word of mouth, that he would agree to the aforesaid terms; and he came into my chamVtr, where the queen my wife" was, with monsieur Hugh de Vere, and master John dc ' This ceremony, as narrated by Piers, ia exce'.'^ingly liko tlie surrender of u tnoclem copyhold. " Edward without reserve sal give Philip the king The wliole of Gascony, without disturbing. After the forty days holding that feofment, Philip mihout delays sal give back the tenement To Kdward and to Blanche, and the heirs that of thorn come. To that ilk scrite Edward set his seal. That the gift was perfect, and with witnesses leal." ' Tlie dowager of Navarre, queen Blanche, mother to Jane, wife of the king of France, was married to Edmund of Lancaster. like tlie aun-endcr of a MAROUEUITE OF FRANCE. 455 uAcy, and he brought with him the duke of Burgundy, and there he promised, accorcUng to the faith of loyal kings, that, ji reahty, all things hIiouUI be as we supposed. And on this faith we sent nuister John de Lacy to Oascony, in order to render up to the people of the king of Franec the seisin of the liuid, as afore agreed. And the king sent tlic constable of I'ViUice to receive it. And when these things were done, wo came to the two queens,' and they prayed the king of France that he would forthwith give safe-conduct to my lord the king, to come and receive again his land and fortresses according to his covenant. And the king of France, in secret, in the pre- sence of queen Jane, told me he was grieved that he must return a hard tuiswer before the council, but, nevertheless, he meant to fulfil all he had undertaken. And forthwith he declared before his said council, * that he never meant to restore the territory of which he had just been given full seisin.' " Eju-I Edmund evidently concludes his letter in a great fright, lest Philip le Bel should persist in his cheating line of conduct ; but he makes a serious exhortation to his brother not to let small causes break the compact. His letter is accompanied by a treaty of marriage, in which is inserted, not the name of the beautiful princess Blanche, but that of the child Marguerite. A fierce war immediately ensued, lasting from 1291 to 1298, diuing which time Edward, who at sixty had no time to lose, was left half married to Blanche ; for, according to Piers of Langtoft, who seems intimately acquainted with this ciu-ious piece of secret history, the pope's dispensation had already been granted.' It was not till the year 1298 that any pacific arrangement took place between Edward and the brother of Blanche. The treaty was then renewed for Marguerite, who had grown up in the mean time. The whole arrangement was referred to the arbitration of the pope, who decreed " that Guienne was to be restored to the right owner; that Edwai'd I. should ' Jeanne of Navarre, the queen of France, and her mother queen Blanche, ilowapor of Navarro, wife of Ijunca«ter. ^ 'rUe fiiots stated by Piers are most satisfactorily confirmed by Wikes. Like- wise by the learned researches of sir Harris Nicoliis ; see ft Latin poem preserved in tlie City archives. — Chronicle of London, p. 132. ) 1 1 . 1 1 u 1 m: I il n ' ' ! I ,'f^-'7 456 MARGUERITE OF FRAITCE. "A • many Marguerite ; and that she should be paid the portion of fifteen thousand pounds left her by king Philip le Hardi, her father." This sum the chronicler Piers verily beUeves Philip le Bel meant to appropriate to his own use. Piers does not say why the younger sister was substituted instead of Blanche ' but he seems to insinuate, in these lines, that she was the better character : — • •♦ Not dame Blanche the sweet, Of whom I now tipake j , But dame Marguerite, Good withouten lack." " Now/* says a Latin poem* descriptive of the Scottish war, " the king returns, that he may marry queen Marguerite, the flower of France. When love buds between great princes, it drives away bitter sobs from their subjects." Marguerite was married to Edward, who met her at Can- terbury, by Robert de Winchelsea, September the 8th, 1299. " On Tuesday, the day of Our Lady's nativity, in the twenty. seventh year of the king, arrived dame Meregrett, the daughter of king Philip, at Dover, and proceeded the following day to Canterbury; and the present Thursday after, came Edward king of England into the church of the Trinity of Canter- bury, and espoused the aforesaid Meregrett, queen of England, of the age of xx years."* The Patent rolls* preserve the memory of the circumstance, that the young queen was en- dowed by her warhke bridegroom with her dower at the door of Canterbury cathedral. Such was in conformity with • It wafl because the beautiiul Blanche had the prospect of being empress. Blanche, daughter of Philip le Hardi, and sister to Philip le Bel, married Rodolphus duke of Austria, eldest son to the emperor Albert I. Her husband was aJPterwards king of Bohemia. This marriuge was arranged between king Philip and Albert. The young lady, who had accompanied her brother, was betrothed at Toul, in Lorraine, in the spring of 1299. — Du Fresne's Notes to Memoirs of the Prince de Joinville. ^ Song of the Scottish Wars. Political Songs of England, Camden Society, 178. * This curious entry, connected with the arrival of lady Marguerite of France, appears in the old French appendix to the Chronicle of the Mayors and Corpora- tion of London. — De Antiquis Legibus Liber j Camden Society, edited by Thomas 8tapleton, esq., 7.A.S. ■* In the Tower of London. The Latin preface sets forth the fact of the settle- ment on Marguerite being made at the church-door. We shall see the same custom ejtactly followed at the w^edloek of Kathuiine of Arragon and Arthur prince of Wales. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 457 a very ancient custom, in compliance with which, royal brides of England demanded and received a formal investiture of lands and other endowments from their kings in the face of the whole congregation, assembled to witness the settlement ' as well as the nuptial rite. Among " the folk of good array," sent by PhiUp for the accommodation of the May, his sister," we find by the ward- robe-book of Edward I. that there were three ladies of the bedchamber, and four noble demoiselles, or maids of honour, Among these attendants are two French, as Agnes de la Croise, to whom was paid ten marks ; and Matilde de Val, one hun- dred shillings. Two ladies were sent from England to wait on the young queen ; these were the lady Vaux and the lady Joamia Fountayne : each received 10/. Our chroniclers speak much of the goodness of Marguerite of France, and she seems to have deserved the respect and affection of her royal lord. At the time of her marriage with the king of England, her niece, the young daughter of king Philip, was solemnly be- trothed to her son-in-law Edward. The public entry of queen Marguerite into London did not take place until a month after her wedlock. " On Sunday before the day of St. Edward, (October 13,) came queen Mar- guerite from the Tower to Westminster : the earls of Savoy and Bretagne, the mayor of London and his aldermen, and a train of three hundred burgesses of the city, were in her suite. Two conduits were in Cheap, which jetted wine; while cloths of gold, hung from all the windows, greeted her first view." ' ' There is a trace of this good custom in the marriage-service in our liturgy, where the church kindly makes the bridegroom endow bis bride with all bis worldly goods, ay, and long after the Reformation, give her a handful of silver and gold as earnest, — a promise which the practical working of secular law virtually reverses. « " Philip for that May Made providence ready ; With folk of good array " To Dover came she." In the king's household-book there is a present of two hundred marks to the valet of the king's chamber, Edmund de Cornwall, on occasion of the king's maiTiage with Marguerite oi France. ' De Antiquis Legibus Liber ; Camden Society. . 1 t:.^ f ■ i| . , ,1') 1''.. i ' I I 1 5 458 MARGIIERITE OF FRANCE. The stormy aspect of the times did not afford the royal bridegroom leisure to attend to the coronation of Marguerite. King Edward had very little time to devote to his bride ; for, to his great indignation, all his barons, taking the opportunity of his absence, thought proper to disband themselves and dis- perse their feudatory militia, leaving their warlike king but the shadow of an army to pursue the advantages he had gained by the sanguinary battle of Falkirk. In less than a week the royal bridegroom departed M'ith fiery speed to crush, if possible, the noble efforts the Scotch were makmg for their freedom. He left London the Wednesday after his marriage. The queen, while her husband was thus engaged, remained in London, and resided chiefly at the Tower. The suite of apartments where the queens of England had previously kept their state at Westminster having been lately destroyed by fire, the royal palace of the Tower was, in fact, the only metropolitan residence at which Marguerite could sojourn. Before her abode was settled at the Tower, king Edward took the precaution of issuing his royal mandate to the civic authorities, in which, after informing them,' ''that his be- loved companion the queen would shortly sojourn in the Tower of London, he enjoins that no petitioner from the city should presume to approach that spot, lest the person of the queen be endangered by the contagion being brought from the infected air of the city." During the summer succeeding the queen's bridal, her court at the Tower was placed ahnost under quarantine, owing to the breaking out of a pestilence, remarkable for its infectious nature. From the writings of Gaddesden, court physician at this time, we come to the con- clusion that this was the smallpox, imported by Edward the First's crusade, from Syria. After this summer, queen Marguerite spent the principal part of her time, like her predecessor, Eleanora of CastUe, following the camp of king Edward ; and when the ferocious contest he was carrying on in Scotland made her residence in that kingdom too dangerous, she kept court in one of the northern counties, Edward, set out with his ouccn and his * Order dated from Carlisle, June 28th. ifford the royal of Marguerite. ) his bride ; for, the opportunity mselves and dis- arhke king but es he had gained 3SS than a week eed to cnish, if making for their ter his marriage, ^aged, remained f. The suite of [ previously kept ;ly destroyed by a fact, the only 3 cotdd sojourn, ing Edward took ite to the ci\ic / "that his be- ' sojourn in the er from the city le person of the g brought from nmer succeeding as placed almost of a pestilence, the writings of ;ome to the con- by Edward the int the principal mora of Castile, len the ferocious her residence in t in one of tlie s niiopn smrl his MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 459 eldest son in April 1300, and taking his route through Lincoln- shire, crossed the Humber into Yorkshire, and left the queen at Brotherton, a village on the banks of the Wherfe, in York- shire. Here that prince was bom from whom the noble family of Howard is directly descended, and in whose right the head of that house bears the honour of " earl marshal of England." Marguerite gave birth to prince Thomas on the 1st of June. The queen had made rich offerings to the shrine of Canterbury previously to the birth of her infant, and she named him Thomas, after the favourite English saint.' " The king bid her not stay, but come to the north countrie. Unto Brotherton on Wherfe : there was she Mother of a son, that child hight Thomas. When the king heard say she had so well/ar», [fared] Thither he went; away to see her and her bairn. The queen, with her son, at Cawood leaves he. And oft he came on Oase her to y-see." * The young queen was stationed at Cawood-castle, a mag- nificent pile of feudal grandeur, being a country-seat belonging to the archbishopric, seven miles from York. King Edward often came there down the Ouse to see her and her infant. She was resident at Woodstock in the summer of the succeed- ing year, for she gave birth to her second son, Edmund, August 5th, 1301. Marguerite returned, however, to Cawood, and made it her principal abode ^ till the year 1304. Her husband then considered Scotland subdued from sea to sea, and as completely prostrate as the principality of Wales ; upon which he sent for his young queen to behold his triumph, and to keep Christmas at Dunfermhne.* Piers of Langtoft declares there was much danger in her journey ; for though Scotland was apparently subdued, the woods and highways swarmed with armed men, who would not come in and submit to the conqueror. Thus irreverently does that time-serving historian sing of a hero, whose memory has been embalmed by the justice of more modem ages. Speaking of the danger of the royal Marguerite's journey to Dunfermline, he says, — ' Year-book of Edward I. ' Piers of Langtoft. 3 Stowe's Annals, p. 208. * For seven years, at this juncture, the courts of King's-bench and tho Exchequer were held at York, to be near the royal court. — Walsingham. ■ ^ > I I m I H t i t -■ ' \ " ' li .1 I i! ; t 4G0 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. *• By tliat the war waa ent [ended], winter was three year. To Dunfermeline he went, for rest will he there. For the queen he sent, and she did dight her cheer ; From Cawood she went to Dunfermeline to fare. But the lord of Badenoch, Fraser, and Wallace Lived at thieves' law, and robbed all the ways. They had no sustenance the war to maintain. But lived upon chance, and robbed aye between." Scotland, at the time when queen Marguerite kept her court, the Christmas of 1304, at High Dunfermhne,' seemed to he bleeding at the feet of Edward ; every fortress had sur- rendered, excepting Stirling-castle, from whose unconquered heights the royal lion of Scotland still floated in the national banner. Marguerite and Edward kept their royal state at Dunfermline until the last fatal wound was supposed to be inflicted on Scotland, by the treacherous capture of Wallace and the fall of Stirling. Leaving lord Segrave commander at Dunfermline, Edward and his queen commenced their cele- brated triumphal progress homeward to England. Whether Edward brought Wallace in chains with him in this triumphal progress^ cannot be precisely determined, but his cruel execu- tion was the commencement of the high festivities held by Edward and his young queen at Westminster, to celebrate the conquest of unhappy Scotland.^ While the atrocious execution of Wallace was perpetrated, queen Marguerite and her court were making preparations for the grandest tomnameut ever celebrated in England since, ' Among the scanty notices of the residence of the queen's court at Dunferm- line, there is in the household-book of Edward I. a payment of forty shillings to John, the young son of John the bailiff, as boy -bishop in the chapel of Dunferm- line ; and forty shillings to Nicholas, the valet of the earl of Ulster, for bringing the news of the defeat of sir Simon Fraser and William Wallace at Koppesowe, by Latimer, Segrave, and Clifford. * A tradition of Carlisle exists, which points out the arch of the castle-gateway ai, the spot where Wallace passed a night manacled in his cart, during his bitter progress through England. This circumstance favours the supposition that lie was brought in the royal train, and that room could not be found in the castle to lodge the forlorn prisoner. ^ We here subjoin the commencement of a song of malignant triumph, sung by the English, to commemorate the savage and unjust murder of this hero. We only disencumber the linos of their imcouth spelling. It is a specimen of English verse in the year 1305. — From the Harleian MSS., fol. 61. Brit. Museum. " With fetters and with gyves Wallace was y di'awn From the Tower of London, That many might know ; In a kirtle of borrel, [coarse cloth] Selcouth wise Through Chepe, And a garland on his head of the newest guise. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 461 ee year. Jrj erite kept her mline/ seemed irtress had sur- le imconquered in the national royal state at supposed to be ure of Wallace ive commander need their cele- and. Whether L this triumphal iiis cruel execu- tivities held by jr, to celebrate Fas perpetrated, ig preparations England since, •ourt at Dunferm- of forty Bliillings to chapel of Duuferm- Ulster, for bringing Jlace at Koppesowe, f the castle-gateway ■t, during his bitter supposition that he »und in the castle to nt triumph, sung by r of this hero. We specimen of Englinh irit. Museum, [coarse cloth] of the newest guise. i (! as the chroniclers declare, the days of king Arthur's round table. On New-year's day, 1306, this tournament was held at Westminster-palace, where prince Edward received knight- hood, and was invested with the principality of Wales ; two hundred young nobles were knighted, and two of the king's grand-daughters married or betrothed. The festival of St. John the Baptist, the same year, was likewise kept with grand cere- monial. Among the parUamentary rolls we meet the following memoranda of this event : — " Thomas de Frowick, goldsmith of London, prays king Edward for the payment of 22/. 10s. for a circlet of gold made for Marguerite queen of England, to wear on the feast of St. John the Baptist." This gold- smith had previously made a rich crown for the queen, and by the orders of the king left his bill with John de Cheam and his fellows, who had neglected it ; and being injured by the delay, he prays the king, in 1306, " for God's sake, and the soul of his father king Henry, to order payment." He is answered, " that he may take his biU to the king's exchequer, adding to it the charge for certain cups and vases which he had likewise made, and the clerk of the exchequer should pay him 440/. in part of his bill." Thus we find that queen Marguerite was provided with a splendid state crown though she was never crowned, — a ceremony prevented by the poverty of the finances. Marguerite is the first queen since the Con- quest who was not solemnly crowned and anointed. Queen Marguerite's beautiful sister, Blanche duchess of Austria, died towards the close of 1305. Early in the suc- ceeding year, prayers for her soul were commanded by king Edward to be solemnly observed by the archbishop of Canter- bury, because " she was the dear sister of his beloved consort queen Marguerite." The king certainly bore no malice for the perfidy of his former love, doubtless being convinced that he had changed for the better. From the royal household-books may be gleaned a few particulars of the English court arrangements at this time. The king's state ship was called, in compHment to the queen, * the Margaret of Westminster ;' it does not seem a ship of war, but a sort of royal yacht, in which the king made his \"i ri II ;• |i i' i 462 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 'i I Si-'f i I tl m hi'^i'.i voyages when he went to the continent. The queen allowed her chief minstrel, who was called * Guy of the Psaltery/ a stipend of 2Ss.; he received bouche of court, (or boaid at court,) and had the use of three horses when the queen was in progress. Guy of the Psaltery often received gratuities from king Edward, who was, as well as his young queen,' a lover of music and the fine arts, and frequently encouraged their professors, as may be seen by these articles of his expen- diture : " To Melioro, the harper of sir John Mautravers, for playing on the harp while the king was bled, 205. : likewise to Walter Luvel, the harper of Chichester, whom the king foimd playing on his harp before the tomb of St. Richard, at Chichester cathedral, 6*. 8c?. : to John, the organist of the earl of Warrenne, for playing before the king, 20s. "^ The queen gave birth at Woodstock, in the thirtieth year of her husband's reign, to her second son, prince Edmund, who was afterwards the unfortunate earl of Kent. The nun- princess Mary, daughter of Edward I., came from her cloister to bear her step-mother company after she had taken her chamber. The queen, on her recovery, went on a pilgrimage of thanksgiving with the nun-princess. About this time " twenty-six pieces of dimity were given out from the king's wardi-obe-stores to make queen Marguerite * Hoiasebold-book of Edw. I., pp. 7-95. * Very different is another entry in the expenses of the music-loving hero. " To seven women meetmg the king on the road lietween Gask and TJggeshall, and singing before him as they had been accustomed to do in the time of king Alexander, 3s." Small in proportion is the benefaction bestowed by the con- quering Edward on those Scotch songstresses, who might have snng maledictions on him in their dialect for aught he knew to the contrary. While music and sculpture had attained some degree of perfection in England at this time, other arts and sciences were in a strange state of barbarous ignorance. The earliest notice of medical practice is to be found, at this era, in the Latin work of Gaddes- den, physician at the cioiui; of queen Marguerite, This learned doctor, describing his treatment of prince Edward in the small-pox, thus declares his mcKle of practice . *' I ordered the prince to be enveloped in scarlet eloth, and that his bed and all the fiirniture of his chamber .should be of a bright red colour ; which practice not only cured him, but prevented his being marked." More by good luck than good management; lussuredly, it may be supposed that Gaddesden wished to stare the red inflammation of the small-pox out of countenance by liis glare of scarlet reflections ! He adds, in his Rosa Anglorum, that " he treated the sons of the noblest houses in England with the red system, and made good cures of all." In this childish state was the uoble art of healing at the court of Marguerite. queen allowed le Psaltery/ a , (or boai'd at the queen was lived gratuities oung queen,' a tly encouraged !S of his expen- Vlautravers, for 20s. : likewise rhom the king St. Richard, at arganist of the 20*."^ 5 thirtieth year irince Edmund, ;nt. The nuu- fom her cloister had taken her JD. a pilgrimage nity were given een Marguerite music-loving hero. Jask and Uggeshall, in the time of king stowed by tlie con- re snng maledictions While music and at this time, other ranee. The earliest itin work of Gaddes- (?d doctor, describing eclares his mcKle of iloth, and that his it red colotir j wliich id.'" More by good jed that Gaddesden countenance by liis , that " he treatal tcra, and made good iling at the court of n MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 463 al a feather bed,' and cushions for her charrette." Instead of finding the national rolls and records burdened with notices of oppressive exactions made by the queen-consort, as in the case of Eleanor of Provence, it is pleasant to observe that Marguerite's charitable kindness pervades these memorials, seen by few, and by still l-iwer appreciated. In the Exchequer rolls exist many precepts from the queen, ordering that debtors for fines due to her may be pardoned their debts, and more than one petition " that debtors of her dejir lord the king may have time extended, or be excused.'" One of these royal supplications is curious, and proves that the queen and her two little sons, Thomas and Edmund, prevailed on king li ' -ard to pardon their dear friend the lady Margaret Howard' a debt owed by that lady to the crown. As prince Thomas, the eldest son of queen Marguerite, was only six years old, and the infant Edmund much younger, it may be judged who prompted the young petitioners, and how the queen must have made the caresses of her infants work on the heart of their great father. "To the honourable father in God, Walter bishop ot Chester, treasurer to our lord, king, and father, Edmund, son of the king, salutes in great love. As our dear lady, madame the queen, has required, we would that you would grant to our good fiiend ma dame Marguerite, late wife of monsieur Robert Hereward, the remission of her debt. Written at Northampton, June 15."* Prince Thomas and the queen each wrote letters to the same effect, that their good friend may be spared her payment to the exchequer. Marguerite of France is not the first instance of a queen- consort of England who ventured to stand between a Plan- tagenet king in his wrath and his intended victim. We learn, by the statement contained in an act of pardon by Edward I., that Godfery de Coigners " had committed the heavy trans- gression and malefaction of making the coronal of gold that crowned the king's rebel and enemy, Robert de Brus, in Scot- ' Wardrobe-book, 34 Edward I. ' Household-book of Edward I. ' Tlie name is spelled ' Hereward * in the French ; the order was sent by the queen to the barons of the Exchequer .-Madox's History of the Exchequer. , i ! debt was some copyhold fine. ^ '"» 1 ■ r ouo u. iU KS. L . ] r y. 434 MARGUERITE OE FRANCE. land, and that he had secretly hidden and retained this coronal 1 11 a fitting occasion ; but that these treasonable doings had since been discovered, and convicted by the king's council." No doubt, Godfery the goldsmith would have been dealt with according to the tender mercies shown to Wallace and Eraser if he had not found a friend in queen Marguerite j " For " says Edward I., " we pardon him solely at the intercession of our dearest consort. Marguerite queen of England."' The citizens of Winchester were hkewise deeply indebted to queen Marguerite, whose beneficent interference relieved them from the terrible consequences of king Edward's displeasure. To the mayor of Winchester had been confided the safe keeping of Bernard Pereres, a hostage of some importance, whom the city of Bayonne had delivered to the king as a pledge of their somewhat doubtful loyalty. Bernard made his escape. On which king Edward sternly comjnanded his sheriff of Hamp. shire to seize upon thft city of Winchester, and to declare its liberties void, — ^thus reducing the free citizens to the state of feudal villeins. The mayor he loaded with an enormous fine of three hundred marks, and incarcerated him in the Mar- shalsea till it was paid. In despair, the Winchester citizens appealed to the charity of queen Marguerite. She recollected that, when she was first married, she had been received at Winchester with the most affectionate demonstrations of loyalty; moreover, she remembered that her husband had given her a charter, which entitled her to all the fines levied from the men of Winchester. Armed with this charter she went to her loving lord, and claimed the hapless mayor and his fine as her personal property. She then remitted half the fine, took easy seciuity for the remainder, and set the mayor at liberty ; nor did she cease pleading with her consort, till he had restored to Winchester the forfeited charters.* Queen Marguerite retired to Winchester, where she was deservedly beloved, when she gave birth to a princess, — her third, but the king's sixteenth child. The infant was called Eleanora, after Edward's first queen and his eldest daughter, * Rymer's Feeders. • Milner's History of Winchester, from the Trussoi MS. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 465 likewise deceased: she died in a few months. Marguerite certainly followed her royal lord on his last northern expedi- tion, for the Lauercost chronicle expressly declares, " that the king came to Lanercost-monastery, October Ist, 1306, very sicl id infirm, accompanied by his queen Marguerite ; and that they staid there four days, when the royal pair paid a visit to Carlisle-castle for three days ;* but the king's health being daily dechning, they returned to Lanercost and spent the Christmas there, and dwelt with the monks till February 28th." There are some indications that the queen was with the royal warrior when he laid on his death-bed. He was advancing to invade Scotland with a powerful army, but be- fore he reached the border he fell ill, at Burgh-on-Sands. He survived a few days, till the prince of Wales came up with the remaining forces time enough to receive his last commands, which breathed implacable fury against the Scots. The dying warrior, moreover, commanded his son " to be kind to his Uttle brothers Thomas and Edward, and, above all, to treat with respect and tenderness his mother, queen Marguerite." Edward expired July 7th, 1307; while he remained unburied, 100/. was paid by his treasurer, John de Tunford, for the expenses of the royal widow.^ The chroniclers of England record no fault or folly of queen Marguerite : nothing exists to contradict the assertion of Piers, that she was " good withouten lack," and a worthy successor to Eleanora of Castile. Like Adehcia of Louvaine, the queen of Henry I., Marguerite kept a chronicler to record the actions of her great lord. He was named * John o' London,' (not a very distinctive appellation) ; but as we have given a personal sketch of Edward in his youth, we add a portrait of him in advanced life, drawn under the superin- tendence of his royal widow : — " His head spherical, (this is the second instance in which we have found that the chroniclers of the middle ages notice the form of the head); his eyes round. LSSOl MS. ' Probably to meet his parliamr.nt, summoned to assemble at Carlisle that year. The king, in consideration of the great trouble given to the monks of Lanercost by this royal residence, presented them with some grants of laud. ' Issue Rolls. VOL. I. H H !!. i- I ' 1 W ■ 3 t i r: I !^ 466 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. ^ geutle and dove-like wlieii pleiised, but fierce as a lion's and sparkling with fire when he was disturbed ; his hair crisp or cui'hng, his nose prominent, and raised in the middle ; his chest broad, his arms agile, his Umbs long, his feet jwched, his body firm and fleshy, but not fat. He was so strong and active that he could leap into his saddle by merely putting his baud on it. Passionately fond of hunting, he was engaged with his dogs and falcons when not in war. He was seldom ill, and neither lost his teeth, nor was his sight dimmed with a^je. He was temperate ; never wore his crown after the coronation, thinking it a burden ; he went about in the plain garments of a citizen, excepting on days of festival." — " What could I do more in roval robes, father, than in this plain gabardine?" said Edward once to a bishop, who remonstrated with hmi on .ff his attire as imkingly.' How so elegantly proportioned a man as Edward I. came to be sumamed Longshanks has been a question to all writers since the opening of the stone sarcophagus in West- minster-abbey, when the body of this great warrior and legis. lator was found of just imd fine proportions, withi.at any undue length of legs : his stature was six feet two inches, from skull to heel. It appears that the insulting epithet, ' Longshanks,^ was a sobriquet given by an incensed enemy, and first took its rise from a satirical song sung by the Scots when Edward laid siege to BerAvick, being his first step in his ambitious invasion of Scotland.^ Edward is said to have been so incensed at this song, that when he had stormed Berwick he put every living soul to the sword, to the number of foui' thousand persons. In this siege he displayed the fine horse- manship for which he was noted. " What did king Edward ? Peer he had none like ; Upon his steed Bayard, First he won the dike." ' ' Camden's Remains. ' " They that were within the toune, defended it orpedli/ [manfully], aiid tluy set on fire king Edward's ships, and sang a scorn,- - " What meaneth king Edward, with his long-shanks. To win Berwick and all our unthauks." ^ Piers Langtoffc. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 467 Besides this steed * Bnyard/ another, called ' Grey Lyard,' ij celebrated in the barons' wars as one on which he ever "charged forward;" likewise his horse * Ferraunt/ "black a raven, on whose back, though armed in proof, sire as lidward could leap over any chain, however high."' No chevalier of his day was so renowned for noble horsemanship as this most accomplished monarch. Yet it is certain that all which finally rema.Dcd from his ambitious war in Scotland, was the insulting sobriquet of Longshanks. The original MS. of the queen's chronicler, John o' London, is a great curiosity. It is written in Latin on vellum, very finely and legibly penned, and ornamented with initial letters, iUumii^ated with gold and colours : the centres of the most of these are unfinished, and the manuscript itself is a fragment. The description of Edward's person is accompanied by an odd representation of his face, in the midst of an initial letter. The features bear the same cast as the portraits of the king : there is the small haughty mouth, the severe penetrating eyes, and the long straight nose. The king is meant to be shown in glory, but the head is surrounded with three tiers of most suspicious-looking flames : however, such as it is, it doubtless satisfied the royal widow, to whom the work was dedicated. " The noble and generous matron, Margareta, by the grace of God queen of England, invites all men to hear these pages." The plan of the oration is to describe the doleful bewailings of all sorts and conditions of persons for the loss of the great Edward. Of course the lamentation of the royal widow holds a distinguished place in the comme-^ moratio. It commences thus ; " The lamentable commenda- tion of Margareta, the queen. Hear, ye isles, and attend my people, for is any sorrow like unto my sorrow ? Though my head wears a crown, joy is distant from me, and I listen no more to the sound of my cithera^ and organs. I mourn incessantly, and am weary of my existence. Let all mankind hear the voice of my tribidation, for my desolation on our earth is complete." The queen's chronicler proceeds to para- phrase the lament for Saul and Jonathan; at length he • Fiers Langtoft. Meaning the chains used, in defensive warfare, to guard gates and drawbridges. ' Harp. H H 2 ;' H' m\ 408 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. .'- w m ' "fl i ! M I- r remembers the royal Marguerite by adding, " At the foot of Edward's monument, with my httlo sons, I weep and call upon him. Wlien Edward died all men died to ma." These lamentations for a husband more than seventy, from a wdow twenty-six, seem a little ex>ggerated; yet the after-life of the royal Marguerite proved their sincerity. Her native historians mention her with bitterness, because they say that her aged spouse prevailed on her to write in her familiar lettois false intelligence to her brother the king of France, with whom he was at WEir. Marguerite's deceitful information caused Philip le Bel to lose some towns in Flanders,' to the great indignation of the French. Possibly the queen was herself intentionally misinformed by her husband. Although queen Marguerite appeared in public earlier than was usual for the etiquette of royal widowhood in the four- teenth century, it was in obedience to the dying commands of her royal lord, whose heart was set on a French alliance. Soon after her husband's death she went to Boulogne Tvitii her son-in-law, and assisted at his marriage with her niece Isabella. At the birth of Edward III., queen Marguerite was present : her name is recorded as one of the witnesses of that event. This was according to the ancient customs of England, her two sons being next in succession to Edward II. While she lived, her niece, queen Isabella, led a virtuous and respectable life. Marguerite did not survive to see the infamy of this near relative, or the domestic wretchedness of her step-son, Avith whom she had always lived on terms of affection and amity. Marguerite is the first queen of En- land who bore her arms with those of her husband in *)ne scutcheoxi; her seal is affixed to the pardon of John de Dalyeng, which pardon she had procured of her son-in-law, in the ninth year of his reign.' We trace the hfe of this beneficent queen-dowager by her acts of kindness and mercy. Queen Marguerite's principal residence was Marlborough-castle, on the borders of the fo- ' Montfaucon. ' The seal is of red wax, with the lions of England on the riplit side, and licr Qwa fleurs-de-lis on the left. Tliey are enihlazonetl on a shield, and not on a lozenge.— See Sandford, p. 120, MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 4.39 rest of Savcmako ; it was there she died, at the early npjc of thirty-six, on the 14th of Fehrunry, 1317. King Kdward the Secoud's houHehold-book luw the following entry relative to this event : " Sent by the khig's order, to be laid npou the body of the lady Marguerite, late queen of England, by the hands of John de Ilausted at Marlborough, the 8th of March, two pieces of Lucca cloth/' Also at the place of its final destination, the Grey Friars', various other pieces of Lucca cloth were to be laid on her body, at the expense of the king. She was buried at the Grey Friars' church, the magni- ficent structure which she had principally founded : ' her body was buried before the high altju*, wrapped in the conventual robe of the Franciscans. The splendid monument raised to the memory of this beneficent woman was destroyed through the avarice of sir Martin Bowes, lord mayor, in the reign of queen Elizabeth : when the Grey PViars' church was made parochial, he, to the indignation of the antiquary Stowe, sold queen Marguerite's tomb and nine others of royal personages, together with a number of grave-stones, for 50/ Her mo- numental eflSgy was lost owing to this barbarous destruction. The features of Marguerite are delineated with minute dis- tinctness in the statuette which represents her on the tomb of her great-nephew, John of Eltham. The cast of countenance which Biay be observed in most of the icscendants of St. Louis ^ Louis IX.) is particularly marked in his grand-daughter Marguerite : it does not form a beautiful face, although often- times one uniting energy and good expression. The nose is large, long, and straight, but instead of keeping the Grecian facial Une, it slants forward and hangs over a short upper lip. The style of face is familiar to the public in the portraits of Francis I. and Louis XI., where it is exaggerated to ugliness. It is seen in the statue of Louis IX., in the crypt of St. Denis: the holy king of France is no beauty, but has the most sensible and goodnatured expressit )n possible. His grand-daughter, the second queen of our great Edward I., is here represented as a royal widow, but not as a professed religieuss; she wears the ' stowe. She began the choir in 1306, and finished it in her widowhood. She left by will 100 marks to this church. This foundation is now Ulirist-Church, Newgate. Part of Marguerite's original building is tlie cloister of the school. I 'I tifi ^ t 470 MARGUEKITE OF FRANCE. I "^ ; ', 1 y gorget wimple and the French widow's veil over it, surmounted by a rich open crown of fleur-de-Us, placed on a circlet of gems; she has her royal mantle on her shoulders, and a loose robe beneath, belted round with a splendid band studded with jewels. Such was her appearance at the marriage of Edward 11. with her niece Isabella, and on state festivals at their courts. Marguerite left her two sons joint-executors to her will, Edward II. empowered his dearest brothers, " Thomas earl of Norfolk, earl-marshal, and Edmimd of Woodstock, co-exe. cutors by the testament of our mother of good memory, Mar- guerite, late queen of England, to execute the said testament • and to have all goods and chattels that belonged to the said queen, and all her com on her manors, whether housed or growing green in the earth, from the 14th day of February last, when she died, 1318. They are to receive all debts due to the queen-dowager, and pay what she owes, according to her will."* The troubles of the reign of Ed\^ard 11. pre- vented the debts of the widow of his father from being paid, as we find the following petition concerning them. In the eighth year of Edward III. there is a petition to parliament^ from Thomas earl of Norfolk, marshal of England, and exe- cutor of the testament of queen Marguerite his mother, pray- ing, " that the king will please to grant, of his good grace, that the debts of the deceased queen may be forthwith paid by his exchequer, according to the order of king Edward II., whom God assoil." Queen Marguerite is the ancestress of all om* Engli^'i nobility bearing the great name of Howard : the honours of her son Thomas Plantagenet, earl-marshal, were carried into this family by his descendant, lady Margaret Mowbray, marrying sir Robert Howard. The Howards, through this queen, unite the blood of St. Louis with that of the mightiest of the Plantagenet monarchs. The heiress of her second son, Edmund earl of Kent, married first sir Thomas Holland, and then Edward the Black Prince : through her, this queen was ancestress of the nobility who bore the name of Holland, which family became extinct in the wars of the roses. 1 Parliamentary Bolls. ' Ibid. 'T. . '^'%mmi,^t^ii*^il0mf''*---'' it, surmounted on a circlet of jrs, and a loose id studded with e of Edward II. it their courts, ors to her will. Thomas earl of dstock, co-exe- memory, Mar- said testament ; iged to the said ther housed or ay of February v^e all debts due )wes, according Edward II. pre- rom being paid, them. In the 1 to parhament^ gland, and exe- Ls mother, pray- his good grace, forthwith paid ng Edward II., ill om* Engli'^i the honours of ere carried into aret Mowbray, 8, through this of the mightiest her second son, IS Holland, and this queen was ne of Holland, le roses. »Ibid. '%,! .'v.X; V,,.' ,«^7,i>i-^ -I'i'^ti I<.'»M1- ■fij'-'ifi'i f- \ .r>.j,^ *. -j/:^ iij)t,-:jii\: n » I >.>,*■ ' ,0- m > ifi 1 ^ 1 1 ^ t : p t '*! s V d , H y !*■ "^ t * 1^ 1 1 k ■ 1 1 ^ t h , '"**>». Loudon , Heiirv (.'olbuvn , 1851 . "TIK- 9fV*~":''r ' .'i •«■ ■ T 1*1 IBAi^BtiA m.M$$AM€M, SUKKAMKis 7 m $:i>i'k !■■ QXJJEKlf OF l,&*A#r^ V iiUW'TV.li- h "wi.. for K-iglimd with EiivNarfl H. i';st*w«!j«'4 i»«> a*«*- jVvv r — Her wurdrolM^ - Hi" coiv^nilMV ■ iVf-vA^.j^ ^j;^ MV^tn 'j|!lr«r',^ts( - Bu-tb of li'.T »'I(]l«w .oiif- I***. '' \„ .. w '1- tho kiaj? !{(>U»r"> Ki.f>nd son -Qnwn'/t «■*'«{** 1 .''** t*/ queen's iiurse ii;i4 «*-^ta<'|1i • ^ ^'•■^ -4iii'."inpr — iJer ii^Vft'^si!*-' ^ ■' ■:> >%i#.ti.»^4 • &y»^a^ ir^'«» *>» •ar ^'*^->'-'>|^'^H;''-?«^iE*=V-''- *^ il*# .."^ J»ii ^* ,. ■},.- flriys of thr far ?iHnt ?**isi5,. '/'3>>^ • .' %.'%.t.iSi ^*>^'4'j' «>v;taltya.s the C'KJsort t»r (>i'«¥- . -uskm i?!' i-'i'Si^fe, ^*'* >.>« tbc eieventh m;t"^-.i ?/ i'"- t?a/Sl firvut; the Kr^nnAj) -"^^ttSiifc, and with the r?.c-*'pfj**^ 1 1 f - 1 ^1 w \, 1^ , ir W' it! w ■.-'■•f'^ li-'ii- I \ ui: M Hl!!V)ptX'l^J-:'^.'0 % / >■ }/■■ it--vj. .;l^- -''•*!" ;-* '..-f"'* *,•::'• iv '•.dl'll, li'iV; I i.yr * / ' I 1i ISABELLA OF FRANCE, SURNAMED THE FAIB. QUEEN OP EDWARD IT. CHAPTER I. Isabella's parentage — Both parents reigning sovereigns — Her portion — ^AflSanced to the prince of Wales — Her gi'eat beuTjty— Her marriage — Nuptial festivities — Sails for England with Edward II. — Summons for ladies to wait on her at Dover — Her wardrobe — Her coronation — Peeresses first summoned thereto — Slights offered to Isabella— Queen's complaints — Revenues — Her popularity — Her jealousy of Gaveston — Civil war — Queen's charity — Mediates peace with barons — Birth of her eldest son — Prefents to her servants — Queen goes to France with the king — Return — Obtains amnesty — Conjugal happiness — Birth of her second son — Queen's chmching-robe— Birtl? ct her eldest daughter — Gifts to queen's nurse and servants— King's grant., tc. Isabella — Her residence at Brotherton — Roger Mortimer — Queen's pilgrimage to Canterbury — Inso- lence of lady Badlesniere — Indignation of the queen — She excites the civil war — Birth of princess Joinna in the Tcwer — Queen Isabella's first acqutuntance with Mortimer — Her influence with tho king — Mortimer's plots — His escape — Qur in's jealousy of the Despencers — Deprived of her revenues — Her French wrvants dismissed — Complaints to her brother — Estrangement of the king — Isabella rasdiatrix with France. Since the days of tlie fair and false Elfrida, of Saxon celebrity, no queen of England has left so dark a stain on the annals of fenuJe royalty as the consort of Edward II., Isabella of France. She was the eleventh queen of England from the Norman conquest, and with the exception of Judith, the consort of Ethelwulph, a princess of higher rank tlian had ever espoused a king of England. She was the offspring of a marriage II ^lli M 4,72 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. .» t W Tilt' '^"' ■ *^ i '-r-'"! \ su. Jane queen of Navarre. Three of her brothers, Louis le Hutin, Philip le Long, and Charles le Bel, successively wore the ayal diadem of France. Isabella was only four years old when her fatal wedlock with Edward of Caernarvon was determined, the preliminaries for that alliance forming a clause in the treaty negotiated between her father and Edward I. for a marriage between that monarch and her aunt. Marguerite of France.' It was agreed at the same time that the king her father was to give Isabella a marriage-portion of eighteen thousand pounds, and that she was to succeed to the dower which Edward I. settled on his bride as queen of England. The pope's dispensation for matrimony to be contracted between Edward prince of Wales and Isabella of France was published in the year 1303. The ceremonial of their betrothment was then solemnized in Paris, according to the usual forms. The earls of Lincoln and Savoy, as the procurators of the royal suitor, asked the lady Isabella in marriage for the prince of Wales of her august parents, Philip king of France and Jane queen of Navarre, whose consent having been given, pere Gill, ai'ch- bishop of Narbonne, repeated to the little princess the words in which the prince of Wales desired to plight her his tioth ; whereupon she placed her hand in that of the archbishop, m token of her assent, on condition that all the articles of the treaty were duly performed.^ Isabella, who was bom in 1295^ was then in her ninth year. Edward I. was so desirous of this alliance, that among his death-bed injunctions to liis heir he charged him, on his bless- ing, to complete his engagement with Isabella. This was, in truth, the only command of his dying sire to which Edward II. thought proper to render obedience. Such was his haste to comply with a mandate which happened to be in accordance with his own inclination, that before the obsequies of his deceased king and father were performed, he despatched the bishops of Durham and Norwich, with the earls of Lincoln and Pembroke, to the court of France, to appoint a day for ^ Rymer's Foedera, vol. ii. p. 928. * Ibit'. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 473 the solenmization of his nuptials. His ambassadors* reports of the charms of his intended bride made so Uvely an impres- sion on the mind of Edward II., that he is reproached by the chroniclers of his reign, with having lost the kingdom of Scotland through his impatience to secure his prize.* His recognition as king of that realm, depended on his remaining there till the important affairs which required his presence were settled; but treating every consideration of political expediency with lover-hke contempt, he hasted to the fulfil- ment of his contract with the royal beauty. There was the less cause for such unseasonable promptitude, since the fair Isabella had scarcely completed her thirteenth year. Great preparations were made at Westminster-palace for the reception of the young queen. The royal apartments, which had been burnt down in the preceding reign, and had been rebuilt, were completed and famished; the gardens were new turfed and treUsed, the fish-ponds were drawn and cleaned, and a sort of pier jutting into the Thames, called ' the queen's bridge,* was repaired. The royal ship called 'the Margaret of Wecianinster* was, with her boats and barges, entirely cleaned and beautified. Various butteries and ward- robes were constructed in the vessel, not only by the com- mand, but according to the device of the king himself, for his expected queen's accommodation.'' After appointing his recalled favourite. Piers Gaveston, guardian of the realm, Edward sailed, early on Monday morning, January 22, 1308, accompanied by his mother-in-law, queen Marguerite, to meet his bride. He landed at Boulogne, where Isabella had already arrived with her royal parents. The next day, being the festival of the Conversion of St. Paul, the nuptials of Isabella and her royal bridegroom were celebrated, in the cathedral, of Boulogne, with peculiar magnificence. Four sovereigns, and as many queens, graced the bridal with their presence. These were the king and queen of France, the parents of the bride; Marie, queen- dowager of France, her grandmother ; Louis, king of Navarre, li'!i WolaiTlrrVinTp — o— 1 Anruila nf S<:. Aiiomafiti. ' Brayley and Britton's History of the Palace of Westminster, pp. 114-117. "/ ' It W' 474 ISABELLA OF FRANCB. her brother, — to whom queen Jane, their mother, had resigned the kingdom she inherited ; the king a!hd queen of the Romans; the king of Sicily; and Marguerite, queen- dowager of England, Isabella's aunt. The archduke of Austria was also present, and the most numerous assembly of princes and nobility that had ever met together on such an occasion. The dowry of the bride was provided from the spoils of the hapless knights Templars, who had been recently tortured, plundered, and murdered by her father.' Like most ill-gotten gains, this money by no means prospered in the spending. The beaut) of the royal pair, whose nuptials were celebrated Avith this extraordinary splendour, excited universal admiration ; for the bridegroom was the handsomest prince in Europe, and the precocious charms of the bride had already obtained for her the name of Isabella the Fair.^ Who, of all the royal and gallant company, witnesses of these espousals, could have be- lieved their fatal termination ? or deemed that the epithet of * she-wolf of France ' could ever have been deserved by the bride? High feasts and tournaments were held for several days after the espousals, at which the nobility of four royal coiuts assisted. These festivities lasted nearly a fortnight. Edward and Isabella were married on the 25th of January, and on the 7th of February they embarked for England, and landed at Dover the same day. There is in the Fcedera a copy of the summonses that were sent to Alicia, the wife of Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk, the countess of Hereford, and other noble ladies, by the regent Piers Gaveston, in the king's name, appointing them to be at Dover on the Sunday after the Purification of the Virgin Mary, to receive the newly-wedded queen, and to attend her on her progress to Westminster.^ The king and queen remained at Dover two days, where Piers Gaveston came to receive them. The moment the king saw him, he flew to him, fell on his neck, and called him " brother," * — conduct which greatly displeased the queen and her uncles. From Dover the royal party proceeded to Eltham, * De la Moor, p. 1 : British Museum. Froissart. ^ llyuier's Fopdera. Ibid. >ver two clays, where ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 475 where they remained till the preparations were completed for the coronation. Two of Isabella's uncles, Charles count of Valois, and Louis de Clermont, count of Evreux, brothers of Philip le Bel,' the duke of Brabant, with the grand-chamber- lain of France and many other nobles, came as guests to the coronation. This ceremonial was postponed till Quinqua- gesima-Simday, February 25th, one month after the nuptials of the king and queen. The royal circular in the Fosdera, addressed by king Edward to his nobles, in which " he com- mands their attendance with their consorts at Westminster, to assist at the coronation solemnity of himself and his consort, Isabella queen of England," is the first royal summons in which the wives of the peers of England are included.'* The young queen's outfit was magnificent,' She brought with her to England two gold crowns, ornamented with gems, a number of gold and silver drinking-vessels, golden spoons, fifty silver porringers, twelve great silver dishes, and twelve smaller ones. Her dresses were made of gold and silver stufi', velvet, and shot taftety. She had six dresses of green cloth fi-om Douay, six beautifully marbled, and six of rose scar? % besides many costly furs. As for linen, she had 419 yards for the bath alone : she was likewise endowed with six dozen coifs, — probably nightcaps. She brought tapestry for her own chamber, figured in lozenges of gold, with the arms of France, England, and Brabant. The king of France, on the occasion of his daughter's nuptials, had likewise made his royal son-in- law a profusion of costly presents, such as jewels, rings, and other precious articles, all of which Edward immediately be- stowed on his favourite. Piers Gaveston, whose passion for finery was insatiable.^ Such conduct was pecuharly calcidated to excite the displeasure of a young girl, and Isabella naturally resented this impiu^er transfer of her father's munificent gifts, which she regarded as part of her dower, and as heir-looms to her descendants. The nobles took occasion of the anger ' Rymer's Foedera. ' MSS. de la Bibliotheque lloi, vol. xxxiv. * Ibid. vol. iii. p. 59. The araouut is stated by M. Raumer to be 28,179 livres ; but the articles enumerated would have cost a great deal more, nnless the livres meant pounds sterhng. ■• Matthew of Westminster. fj , -, ^ ^ 476 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. - h manifested by the young queen against the haughty favourite, to signify to their sovereign, that unless Gavcston were banished from the court, they would not attend the approaching coro- nation. Edward, alarmed at an intimation which he knew amounted to a tlireat of withholding their oaths of allegiance, promised that every thing should be arranged to their satis- faction at the parhament that was to meet directly after his inauguration. At the coronation fresh discords were engendered. Thomas earl of Lancaster, the son of Edward's uncle Edmund Crouch- back, bore * curtana,' or the sword of mercy, and Henry of Lancaster, liis brother, the royal rod surmounted with the dove. But the indignation of the nobles exceeded all bound?,' when it was found that the king had assigned the envied oflfice of bearing St. Edward's crown to his unpopular favourite, who, on this occasion, was dressed more magnificently than the sovereign himself. This gave such oflPence to one of the earls of the blood-royal,' that nothing but consideration for the feeUngs of the young queen restrained him from slaying him within the sacred walls of the abbey. The archbishop of Canterbury being absent from the realm at that period, the king and queen were consecrated and crowned by the bishop of Winchester.* So great was the concourse of spectators at this coronation, that many serious accidents occurred, through the eager desire of the people to obtain a sight of the beautiful yoimg queen ; and a knight, sir John Bakewell, was trodden to death. Gaveston had taken upon himself the whole management of the coronation ceremonial ; and either his arrangements were made with little judgment, or his directions were perversely disobeyed, for it was, from the beginning to the end, a scene of the most provoking confusion and disorder. It was three ' Milles* Catalogue of Honour, and Treasury of True Nobility. Carte. ' The king's first offering was a pound of gold, fashioned in the likeness of a king holding a ring in his hand. His second was eight ounces of gold, in the form of a pilgrim putting forth liis hand to take the ring, or rather, we should think, to give it; for this device represented the l^end of Edward the Confossor receivhig the ring from St. Joi. ". the EvangeUst in Waltham-forest, from whence Havering-Bower derived its name. This very ring is declared by tradition to be *K ii^^ vVi viiuvii/iA AMig iii;* piUoviii/ iiiajcocY r€C6iv'€\* Ml; Aicr inaU^urntlOn. .4-i/\.« ^K%v\r» l.ft*. «.w ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 477 o'clock before the consecration of the king and queen was over ; and when we consider the shortness of the winter days, we cannot wonder at the fact stated, that though there was abundance of provisions of every kind, there was not a morsel served \ip at the queen's table before dark.' The lateness of the dinner-hour appears to have excited the indignation of the hungry nobles more than any other of Gaveston's misdeeds that day. The banquet was, moreover, badly cooked, and when at last brought to table, ill-served, and few of the usual ceremonies were observed, for the want of the proper officers to oversee and direct. In short, all classes were dissatisfied and out of hiunour, especially the queen, on whom many slights were put, but whether out of accident or wilful neglect is not stated." The French princes and nobles returned home, in a state of great exasperation at the affronts which they considered their princess had received; and Isabella herself sent a letter to the king her father, fuU of complaints of her lord and his all-powerful favourite, Gaveston.^ This had the effect of inducing Philip le Bel to strengthen the party of the discontented barons against Gaveston with all his influence, and gave an excuse to the French party for commencing those intrigues, which terminated so fatally at last for Edward II. T^e English crown, owing to the wars in Scotland, was at that time in great pecuniary distress, which was imputed to king Edward's gifts to Gaveston, and it is certain that he was unable either to pay his coronation expenses, or to maintain his household. As for his young queen, she was wholly without money, which caused her great uneasiness and dis- content. It is possible, that if Isabella had been of an age more suitable to that of her husband, and of a less haughty temper, her beauty and talents might have created a counter- influence to that of the Gascon favourite, productive of bene- ficial effects; but the king was in his three-and-twentieth year, and evidently considered a consort who was only enter- ing her teens as entitled to a very trifling degi'ce of atten- tion, either as a queen or a wife. Isabella was, however, perfectly aware of the importance of her position in the English ' Carte. O »«r 1 •-- . 1 " VV UlfilUgUtUJJ. 3 TKM 1 n 1 iK^BU^Kar wL ■pH^^l^Vt \ ; 1: • ■• ': , ■ ';■'(■ : 1 ' ti i : ' ■•': 1 ^ •! ■ ■ f ' -i I f: r ; t \ •' 1 ; l: \ .V ;■ ■[ 1 ' 'i 478 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 'S i;l Liidi H' court ; and even had »]\e been as cliildifth in mind m slic wag in age, rIjc was too closi^ly allied in blood to the grcut U'lulcjrs of the disaftected peers of iingland, — Thomas earl of LancnRtcr and his brother, Henry earl of Derby, to remain quiescently in the background. The mother of the above-nanu'd nobles Blanehe of Artois, the queen-dowager of Navarre, was Isa. bella's nintemal grandmotlier ;' consequently the sona of queen Bl 'he, by her second marriage with Edmund earl of Lancaster, were half-uncles to the young queen, and reso- lutely determined to act as her champions against Piers Gaveston, who was now allied to the royal'family by lija marriage with Margaret of Gloucester, the daughter of Edward's sister, Joanna of Acre.'' Gaveston was not only the Adonis of the English court but remarkable for his knightly prowess, graceful manners, and sparkling wit. It was the latter qualification which rendered him pecidiarly displeasing to the English nobles, whom he wtis accustomed to deride and mimic, for the amuse- ment of liis thoughtless sovereign ; nor was the queen exempt(;d, when he was disposed to display his sarcastic powers." The sins of the tongue are those which more fre- quently provoke a deadly vengeance than any other offence, and Gaveston's greatest crime appears to have been the fatal propensity of saying unforgivable things in sport. Isabella's father secretly incited the English barons to a combination against Gaveston, which compelled the king to promise to send him beyond seas. This engagement Edward deceitfully performed, by making him viceroy of Ii-eland, which country he ruled with great ability. The queen's pecuniary distresses were then brought before the lords,^ and as they found there was no money in the treasury to furnish her with an income befitting her station, the revenues of Ponthieu and Montrieul, the inheritance of the king's mother, were appropriated to ' Milles' Catalogue of Honour. Brookes. Speed, &c. &c. ' The barons were exasperated at this marriage, which made the favourite Edward's nephew; yet the earl of GlouccHter, who was certainly the person whom it more nearly concerned, as he was the young lady's brother, appeared perfectly satisfied, and remained Gaveston's firm friend, and it is more than probable that the lady herself was qiute agreeable to the union. " WalBingham. * Carte. ISABELLA OF I It. NCR. 479 her use. The kin^ specified his ^i; h, " that hin denrest con- tort, Isabella queen of En<;huid, sJ.ould he honourably and decently provided with all thinj^s necessary for her chamber; aud all expenses for jewels, |?i't.s, and every other recpiisite.'" During the first year of Isabella's marriaf^e with Edward II., her father, Philip le Bel of France, appears to have acquired some degree of ascendancy in the councils of the nation ; for ffc observe sevend letters in Rymer's Foedera from Edward to his father-in-law, in which ho condescends to explain his conduct with nsgiu-d to Gaveston to that monarch, and weakly solici's his mediation Avith his turbulent barons. The follow- ing year Gaveston took occasion to return to England, to attend a tournament at Widlingford.- The magnificence of his retinue, and the great number of foreigners by whom lie was surrounded, served to increase the jealous displeasure of the barons. Gaveston, according to b" ' old pr^r'tice, retaliated their hostility with scornful raillery, and < i this occasion bestowed provoking sobriquets on the It ) tiers of the feud against him. The e;nl of Pembrc' • who was dr k, thin, and sallow-complexioned, he callei' '.oseph the Jew/ the earl of Wai-wick, who foamed at the mouth when angry, * the wild botir of Ardenne •/ and the earl of Lancaster, from his affecting a picturesque style of dress, *the stage player;'^ and in like maimer he characterized the rest of the party, either from their peculiarities or defects. These insults were not only treasured up against a fearfid day of reckoning, but had the efifect of stirring up such a storm in the court, as made the throne of his royal master totter under him. Tlie queen, her uncle the er^l of Lancaster, and all the baronage of England, made conr tn cause against Gaveston; and Edward, not djuing to oppose so potent a combination, sent his favourite to Guienne ; but at parting lavished on him all the jewels of which he was possessed, even to the rings, brooches, buckles, and other trinkets, which the queen had at various times presented to him as tokens of regard.* ' " Theret'orc he is pleased to asaigii the lands of Ponthieu, Ac. for her use, to provide her with such things ; and he directs Richard de Rokeslie, his seneschal of that province, to give the deputies of the queen peaceful possession of the <*wu.v»..wu. AuuuwaM, • v.. ...a, A.AMJ AAV.., ^wv '^ Wakinghaui. ' Ibid. I I \ I ' ■ '. i ' i! ' I * Ibid. fl I ' i I 480 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. In the year 1313, to the great displeasure of the queen and her party, Edward recalled Gaveston, and made him his principal secretary of state/ placing all the affairs of the realm under his control. This unpopulai* minister was accused of leading the king into a reckless coiu-se of dissipation, veiy offensive and injurious to the queen. Isabella, not being of a temper to bear her wrongs in silence, angrily remonstrated with Gaveston ; on which he so far forgot the respect due to her high rank, as to make a contemptuous reply ; and when she passionately complained to the king of the affront she had received from his insolent favourite, Edward treated it as a matter of little importance. It appears evident that, at this period, IsabeUa was only considered by him as a petulant child.'"^ Less perilous, however, would it have been to ofPer slights and provocations to a princess of more advanced age and mature judgment, for Isabella vented her indignant feel- ings by sending an eloquent detail of her wrongs to her father the king of France, to whom she wrote bitter complaints of Ler royal husband's coldness and neglect, describing herself " as the most wretched of wives, and accusing Gaveston of being the cause of aU her troubles, by ahenating king Edw ard's affection from her, and leading liim mto improper companj\" King Edward's letters, at the same period, to the father of his queen, are written in the most slavish style of prostration/ and he constantly apphes to him for counsel and assistance in his internal troubles, apparently unconscious that his " dearest lord and father," as he calls the treacherous Philip, was the secret agitator by whom his rebel peers were incited to distid) his dreams of pleasure.^ It is remarkable, that Isabella's name is mentioned but once in Edwai'd's letters to the king her father, and then merely to certify " that she is in good health, and will (God propitious) be fruitful."* It was not, however, till the tifth year of Isabella's marriage with Edward II. that any well-grounded hope existed of her bringing an heir to England • and the period at which this joyful prospect first became apparent, was amidst the horrors of civil war. The earl of Lancaster, at the head of the malcontent barons, * Walsiiigham. Rapin. ^ Wttlsinglmm. ^ Rjmer'u Foedera, voL iiu Ibid, Ibid. I ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 481 took up arms against the sovereign in the year 1312, in order to limit the regal authority, and to compel Edward to dismiss piers Gaveston from his councils. Isabella accompanied her lord and his favourite to York, and shared their flight to Newcastle ; where, not considering either Gaveston or himself safe from the victorious barons, who had entered York in triumph, Edward, in spite of all her tears and passionate entreaties to the contrary, abandoned her, and took shipping with Gaveston for Scarborough.* The forsaken queen, on the advance of the confederate barons, retired to Tynemouth. During her residence at Tynemouth-castle, Isabella employed her time in charity and alms-deeds : of this, most interesting evidence appears in the royal household-book for 1312 : — "October 9. — To little Thomeline, the Scotch orphan boy, to whom the queen, being moved to charity by his miseries, gave food and raiment to the amount of six-and-sixpence." We find, by another entry, that Isabella's good work did not stop with feeding and clothing the poor destitute creature : " To the same orphan, on his being sent to London to dwell with Agnes, the wife of Jean, the queen's French organist ; for his education, for necessaries bought him, and for curing his maladies, fifty-two shillings and eight-pence." While the queen remained disconsolate at Tynemouth, Lancaster, who had got possession of Newcastle, sent a depu- tation to his royal niece, "with assurances of her safety;'' explaining, " that their sole object was to secure the person of the favourite." The king, meantime, having left Gaveston in the strong fortress of Scarborough,'' proceeded to levy forces in the midland coimties for his defence. The indignation of the men of the north of England had, however, been so greatly excited at his neglect and desertion of the queen, while in a situation which required more than ordinary sympathy and tenderness, that they rose en masse to storm her adversary in his retreat. Gaveston, being destitute of provisions or the » Guthrie. ' Guthrie. Gaveston was taken very ill at Newcastle ; for there is an entry in the household-book of Edward II., — "To master WiUiam de Bronitoft, a physician, for his attendance on sir Ker-s de GHv»»toii, during his iiiness at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, two pounds." VOL. I. H I I I ';, * ■1. t[).| !! . ■>: i' i H; i\\ I P i .L ! u I 1 i 1 rll' ! ^ si I <* i I 482 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. means of standing a siege, surrendered to the confederate lords, on condition of being safely conducted toT the king, and allowed free communication with him previously to liis trial before the parhament. In violation of the articles of this treaty, which the earl of Lancaster and the rest of the con- federate barons had solemnly sworn to observe, Gaveston was brought to a sham trial and beheaded at Blacklow-hiU, near Warwick, on a spot which, in memory of the tragedy com- mitted there, is called Gaveshead. The barons enjoyed the extreme satisfaction of ransackin* the baggage of the luckless favourite, where they found many of the crown jewels, some articles of gold and silver plate belonging to the king, and a great number of precious oma ments, which had been presented to the king by queen Isabella, his sisters, and other persons of high rank. There is a minute list of these valuables in Rymer's Foedera, and the catalogue is indeed hkely enough to have excited the indignation of the jealous peers, who, on the green hiU-side, sat in relentless judgment on the man whom the king delighted to honour.' Notwithstanding her avowed hostility against Gaveston, there is no reason to suppose that Isabella was in the shghtest degree imphcated in his murder, though his misconduct to her was one of the principal grounds of accusation used by the earl of Lancaster against him. When Edw ard received the tidings of the tragic fate of the companion of his childhood, he was transported with rage and grief, and declared his intention of inflicting a deadly ven- geance on the perpetrators of the outrage. He sullenly with- drew from London to Canterbury, but finally joined the queen at Windsor, where she was awaiting the birth of their first child.'^ This auspicious event took place on the 13th day of November, at forty minutes past five in the morning, in the year 1312,^ when Isabella, then in the eighteenth year of her age and the fifth of her marriage, brought into the world the * Among other frivolous charges that wore brought against Gaveston by the associate baronR, he was accused of being " the son of a witch," and of having obtained his influence over the mirid of lus sovereign by the practice of sorcery. His mother had been actually burnt for sorcery in Guienno. * Walsingham. ^ Eymor's Foedera. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 483 long-desired heir of England, afterwards that most renowned of our monarchs, Edward III., sumamed of Windsor, from the place of his birth. The gloom in which the king had been plunged ever since the death of Gaveston, yielded to feelings of paternal rapture at this joyfid event, and he testified his satisfaction by bestow- ing on John Lounges, valet to the queen, and Isabel his wife, twenty pounds, and settled the same on them as an annual pension for life.* Scarcely less delighted were Isabella's uncle, the count of Evreux, and the French nobles who were then sojourning in England, at the birth of the royal infant, who was remarkable for his beauty and vigour. They entreated the king to name the young prince Louis, after the heir of France and the count of Evreux ; but the idea was not agree- able to the national feelings of the Enghsh in general, and it was insisted by the nobles that he should receive the name of his royal father and his renowned grandfather, Edward. Four days after his birth he was baptized with great pomp in the old chapel of St. Edward, in the castle of Windsor.^ Isabella's influence, after this happy event, was very con- siderable with her royal husband, and at this period her conduct was all that was prudent, amiable, and feminine. It was through her mediation that a reconciliation was at length effected between king Edward and his barons;^ and tranguiUity restored to the perturbed realm. Before the apj6esty was published, queen Isabella visited Aquitaine in company with her royal husband ; from thence they went to Paris, where they remained at the court of Philip the Fair nearly two mouths, enjoying the feasts and paf;;.';rmT^ which the wealthy and magnificent court of France provided for ' Pyne's Royal Palaces. ^ The ceremony was performed by Arnold, cardinal priest, and the royal babe had no less than seven godfathers ; namely, Richai'd bishop of Poicticrs ; John bishop of Bath and Wells ; William bishop of Worcester ; Louis count of Evreux, uncle to the queen j John duke of Brctagne and earl of Richmond ; Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke; and Hugh Despencer; but there is not the name of one godmother recorded. A few days after his bu-th, his fond father granted to liis dearly-prized heir, his new and blameless favourite, the coimty of Chester, to be held by him and his heirs for ever ; also the comity of Flint. — Eyraer's " VV'aisingham. n2 Fcedera. vol. iii. t' '' Hi': !i';. iiilj 484 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. { : "i-fS'.' their entertmnment. Plays were represented on the occasion being Mysteries and Morahties for amusement and admo- nition, entitled The Glory of the Blessed, and the Torments of the Damned. The king of France, on their return, con- ducted them to Pontoise. A fire broke out in the chamber of the royal guests one night, and both Edward and Isabella escaped with difficulty from the flames in their night-dresses : all their clothes and property were destroyed in the confla- gration.* Through the earnest entreaties of the queea, the long- delayed pardon to the insurgent barons was published by king Edward, October 13th, 1313, without any exceptions; and the royal deed of grace expressly certifies, " that this pardon and remission is granted by the king, tlirough the prayers of his dearest companion, Isabella queen of Eng. land/" The parliament met amicably, and the barons solemnly made their submission on their knees to the sove- reign in Westminster-haU, before all the people/ Soon after, the earl of Warwick, the most active agent in the death of Gaveston, dying suddenly, it was industriously circulated by liis friends that he had been taken off by poison. The barons mistrusted the king : the only hnk that kept them and their sovereign from a fresh rupture was the queen, who at that period conducted herself so prudently as to enjoy the con- fidence of all parties. The year 1314 commenced with a temporary separation between the royal pair, on account of the renewal of the Scottish wars. Stirling, so appropriately designated by the chroniclers of that stormy period Striveling, was besieged by king Robert the Bruce,^ and the Enghsh garrison demanded succour of their laggard sovereign. Ed- ward at last took the field in pei-son, only to meet with a disgraceful overthrow at Bannockbum, which the national pride of his subjects ..over could forgive. ' History of Paris, by Dukure. • Rymer's Foedera. " Walsingham. * Robert Bruce showed no slight judgment of character, when he thus spoiie of the contrast between the first Kdward of England and the second Edward : " I am more afraid of the bones of the father dead, than of the living son ; uiid, by all the saints ! it was more difficult to get half a foot of land I'rom the old king, than a whole kingdom from the son." — Matthew of Westminster. ■fm ISABELLA OF FKANCE. 485 During the absence of king Edward in this disastrous campaign, his queen was brought to bed of her second son, prince John, at Eltham-palace, an event that appears to have been very pleasing to her royal lord, for there is the following entry in his household-book : " To sir Eubulo de Montibus, for bringing the first news to the king of the happy dehvery of queen Isabella of her son John of Eltham, 100^." — " The queen sent her valet, Goodwin Hawtayne, with letters to the bishop of Norwich and the earl of Lancaster, requesting them to come to Eltham to stand sponsors for her son John; Hawtayne's travelhng expenses were sixteen shillings. John de Fontenoy, clerk of the queen's chapel, received one piece of Turkey cloth, and one of cloth of gold, for arraying the font in which the lord John, son of the king, was baptized at Eltham, 30th August. To Stephen Taloise, the queen's tailor, was dehvered five pieces of white velvet for the malting thereof a certain robe against the chm'ching of the queen, after the birth of her said son." Isabella, as soon as she was able to travel with safety, went to meet her royal consort in the north of England. The household-book of that year records a reward given by king Edward to the queen's messenger who brought the first tidings of her arrival at York, September 27. The queen sent costly presents to the new pope John, of copes em- broidered with large pearls, bought of Katherine Lincoln, and a cope embroidered by Rosia de Bmford. To the same pope queen Isabella sent a present, through don John de Jargemoc, her almoner, of an incense-boat, a ewer, and a gold buckle set with divers pearls and precious stones, value 300/. About this time Robert le Messager was tried by jury and convicted of speaking iri'cverent or indecetii words against the king ; but iiie queen interested herself to prevent his punishment, by inducing the archbishop of Canterbury to become his surety for future ?ood behaviour.^ The bh'tii of the princess Eleanora took place in 1318. The household-book notes ta king's gift of v'^'., "to the lady Isabella, queen of England, for her churchi!*^^-feast, after the /^ There are likewise notices of ' Madox, Hwt. Exchequer. f j:U;l i / i i - y, ; : 1 t rrt-lMfl;: 1 H .' i i (. 1 il '■'■ A ' ■■! », :■ {, . • i V 111 1 ■: i (■ 1 1 I 1 :-! ■ J^ 466 ISABELLA OF FRiVNCE. money tlirown over the heads of various biides and bride- grooms, as they stood at the altar, — ^the royal pair were pre- sent at their marriages, at Havering-Bower, Woodstock^ and Windsor, — and for money given by the orders of the kiiiff at the chapel doors. Several other entries afford amusino- information, respectiiij;; the inmni-ra and customs of Edward the Second's coait;- Yanne Ballavd, for pieces of silk and gold tissue of fisstiaa, and of li'ni'-cobured silk, for the making cushions for tiie charrf!tt<;t of the "queen and her ladies. To Robert le Fermor, (the closer,) boot-maker, of Fleet -ifreet, iofi^ six pairs of boots, with tassels of silk and drops of silver gilt, piice of esrh p .ir five shillings, bou<'ht for the king's use. Griffin, thf; son of sir Griffin of Wales, was selected as one of the comj ^hobis of the young prince Edward afterwards Edward 11/ , at EUham, by order of the king. When the king and queen kept Twelfth-night, their pre- sents were magnificent : to ' the king of the Bean,' in one instance, Edward gave a silver-gilt ewer, with stand and cover ; and another year, a silver-gilt bowl to match, as New- year's gifts. To WiUiam Sal Blaster, valet of the count of Poictiers, for brmging to the king bunches of new grapes at Newborough, 28tli of October, lOs. Queen Isabella's chap. lain was entitled to have the queen's oblatory money, of the value of seven-pence, redeemed each day of the year, except on the Assumptioji of the Virgin, when the queen offered gold. To Dulcia Withstaff, mother of Robert the king's fool, coming to the king at Baldock, at Christmas, lOs. To William de Opere, valet of the king of France, for bringing the king a box of rose-coloured sugar at York, on the part of the said king, his gift, September 28th, 2/. 10*. To the lady Mary, the kinf^s «ister, a nun at Ambresbury, the price of fifteen pieces of tapestry, with divers coats of arms, bought of Richard Horsham, mercer of London, and given to the lady "MBry on her departure from court home to Ambresburj-, 26/. To sir Nicholas '"^o Becke, sir Humphrey de Lut'; - ay, imI sir Thomas de imer, for dragging tlic kinr, ^>Ji of bed on Easter momin;;, '.' ' Madox. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 487 Edward II., in 1316, bestowed u considerable benefaction on Theophania de St. Pierre, his queen's nurse : besides fifty pounds sterling money, he gives this person, whom he calls lady of Bringuencourt, lands in Ponthieu, y( lere queen Isabella was dowered.' In the household-books of Thomas Lancaster, Stowc found that 92/. had been presented by that prince to his royal niece's nurses and French servants. Isabella obtained from the king her husband a grant of tho escuage be- longing to hinji for the army of Scotland due from the knights* fees, which the queen held by grant for the term of her life. The disastrous Scotch campaign was followed by the most dreadful famine ever known in England, which lasted for nearly three years.^ The king and queen kept their court at Westminster during the Whitsuntide festival of 1317; and on one occasion, as they were dining in pubhc in the great ban- queting-hall, a woman in a mask entered on horseback, and riding up to the royal table, dehvered a letter to king Ed ward, who, imagining that it contained some pleasant conceit or elegant comphment, ordered it to be opened and read aloud for the amusement of his courtiers ; but, to his great mortifi- cation, it was a cutting satire on his imkingly propensities, setting forth in no measured terms all the calamities which his misgovemment had brought upon England. The woman was immediately taken into custody, and confessed that she had been employed by a certain knight. The knight boldly acknowledged what he had done, and said, " That supposing the king would read the letter in private, he took that method of apprizing him of the complaints of his subjects.'" The following year Robert Bmce laid siege to Berwick. ' Rymer's Foedera, voL iii. ' King Edward endeavoured to lower the enormous price of provisions by various statutes, but without effect, as the public misery was not caused by mono- poly, but by dearth, which was felt even in his own palace j for on St. Lawrence's- cve, 1314, it was with difficulty that bread could be procured for the sustentation of the royal family. — Walsingham. De la Moor. ' The unpopularity of the king at this period tempted an impostor of the name of Jolm Deydras, a tanner's son, to pretend that he was tho true son of Edward I., wJ 1 had Iteen changed by his former nurse for him who so unwortluly filled the throne of that mighty sovereign. Deydras, having no evidence to support tliis assumption, 'as lianged for his treasonable attempt to excite seditioo.— Wal- singham. K -M ■1. ^ i 1, : 1 1 i 1 .'■i i.'.l ■i ■ r' ■ Ji m I ^. :. ■ 1 f > f I ♦ I ! '1 488 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Queen Isabella accompanied her lord into the north, and while he advanced to Berwick, she, with her young family, took up her abode at Brotherton, the former residence of her late aunt, queen Marguerite. This Avas a place of apparent security, as it was nearly a hundred miles from the scene of war ; yet she was exposed to a very great peril while residing there, in the year 1319, during the absence of the king, in consequence of a daring attempt of earl Douglas to sm-prise her in her retreat, and carry her off into Scotland. The monk of Malmesbury gives the following accoimt of this ad'senture : " Douglas marched into England at the head of 10,000 men with great secrecy, and nearly arrived at the village where queen Isabella and her children resided, when one of his scouts fell into the hands of the archbishop of York, the king's councillor, who threatening him with torture, the man promised him, if they would spare him, to confess the great danger their queen was in. The ministers laughed his Intel- ligence to scorn, till he staked his Ufe that, if they sent scouts in the direction he pointed out, they would find Douglas and his hoijt mthin a few hours' march of the queen's retreat. Alarmed by the proofs given by the man, they collected all their retinue, and all the men-at-arms York could furnish, and marched on a sudden to the queen's residence with the tidings of her great danger : they removed her to York, and afterwards, for the greater security, she was taken to Notting- ham." It was affirmed that Bruce had bribed Lancaster to contrive this diversion from the siege of Berwick. , The local histories oi" Peterborough record, that Edward and Isabella put an end to a furious dispute between the abbot and the town, as to who should be at the cost of repairing the broken bridge, by sending word that they and their son, prince John, intended to take up their lodgings at the abbey. Tliis intimation caused the abbot to repair it in a hiurj', for the passage of the royal pair and their retinue. The queen was presented with twenty pounds by the town, and cost the abbot, in presents and entertainments, more than fom* hundred pounds. On another occasion she quartered her eldest son Edward, and ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 489 of the kinir. abbot for eight weeks, which entailed an enormous expense on the community. In 1321 the storm gathered among the lords- marchers, wl\ich led to fresh civil wars, and brought Isabella and Roger Mortimer into personal acquaintance;' after which Isabella exchanged the lovely character of a peace-maker for that of a vindictive political agitator, and finally branded her once-honoiu-ed name with the foul stains of adultery, treason, and murder. On the 13th of October, 1321, the quec i set out on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas ji-Becket at Canter- bury, and proposing to pass the night at her own castle of Leeds, of which Bartholomew Badlesmere, one of the ' asso- ciated barons/ was castellan, she sent her marshal and pur- veyors before her to announce her intention, and to order proper arrangements to be made for her reception.'^ Badles- mere was absent at that time, and being deeply involved in the treasonable designs of the earl of Lancaster, had charged his lady to maintain the castle, though it was a royal demesne, being one of the dower-palaces of the queens of England. Lady Badlesmere, feeUng some mistrust of the real object of Isabella in demanding admittance for herself and train, rephed with great insolence to the royal messengers, " that the queen might seek some other lodging, for sho would not admit any one within the castle without an order froi ' lord." While ' King Edward had married his new favourite, the young Despencer, to his great -niece Eleanor, one of the co-heircHSCs of his nephew Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, who had been the most potent among the lords-marchers of Wales, and a sort of lord-paramount over them all. The warlike Mortimers, during the long minorities of the two last etu-ls of Gloucester, had taJcen the lead among the marchers ; and now the king's favourite, in right of his wife, assumed a sort of supremacy on the Welsh Iwrders, and prevailed on the king to resume the grants of some of his late nephew's castles wliich he had given to the Mortimers. Those fierce chiefs flew to arms with their marchmen, and in the course of a few nights harried lady Despencer's inheritance with so hoartv a good will, that they did many thousand jwunds' worth of mischief. T rs of this exploit were lord Roger Mortimer of Chirk, and his nephew aua ncir, lord Roger Mortimer of Wigmore, who had been the ward and pupil of Gaveston. The uniform of Mortimer's forces when they marched to London (when mustering against the Despencers) was green, with the right arm yellow. The revolt ended in the snrrender of the Mortimers, and their committal to the Tower. The extraordi- nary influence the younger Mortimer exercised over the destiny of the queen, requires these few words of explanation as to the origin of this rebellion. ^ Walsingiiam. De la Moor. \}:,^i m A^^mi, .. 4k. II 1 |!i . r > :■ 490 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. the dispute was proceeding betAvcen the lady Badlcsmerc nnd the harbingers, the queen and her train arrived at tlie castle- gates and were received with a volley of airows, which slew six of the royal escort, and compelled the queen to retreat with precipitation, and to seek other shelter for the night.' The queen complained bitterly to the king of the affront she had received, and entreated him to avenge the murder of her servants, and the insolence of lady Badlesmere in pre- suming to exclude her from her own castle." Badlesmere had the folly to write the most insulting letter to the queen, in reply to the complaints that had been addressed to him of Ids *. uc s conduct^ expressing his entire approval of what she had done. This conduct was aggravated by the fact, that Badles- mere had very lately been one of the principal officers of the palace, and held the high station of steward to the royal household before Edward gave him the appointment as ciis- tellan of Leeds. The whole transaction imphes some previous personal quarrel with the queen. Hitherio Isabella had been on the most amicable terms with the barons, but as neither Lancaster nor any of the associates thought proper to express any reprobation of the disrespect with which she had been treated by their confedc. ite, she det«Ji\. ned to be reunged on all ; and accordingly represented to '^ king, ^^ it if he raised an army for the purpose of besiegiii^r Leeds castle, he would eventually be enabled to use it for tl xtension of his kingly power.' The king would willingly have temporized, but the haughty spirit of Isabella would not p' lit him to delay becoming the minister of her vengeance. Edvvard pi lished liis manifesto, setting forth the contempt with wliich "his beloved consort Isabella queen of England had been treated by tlie family of Bartholomew Badlesmere, who had in clently opposed her in her desire of entering Leeds-castle, and t>iat the said Lartholomew Badlesmere had by his letters approved of this misconduct of his family in thus obstructing and contumeUously treating the queen j for which cause, a ' Walsingluun. De la Moor. ' Loeds-cttstle was a part of the splendid dower settled by Edwanl T. on queen Martnit^nte, Isabella's aunt, to which queeu Isabella had succeeded.— Kjmer's Fucdero. * Kapin. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 401 general ister of all persons between the ages of sixteen and sixt} ts called to attend the king in an expedition against Leeds cm^. ie ."' A large force, of which the Londoners formed a consi- derable portion, was quickly levied, for the queen was the darling of the nation, and all were eager to avenge even the shadow of a wrong that was offered to her. The lady Badles- mere, who was undoubtedly a notable virago, treated the royal threats with contempt, and with her seneschal, Walter Colepepper, defied both the king and his anny when they appeared beneath the walls of Leeds-castle, which was well stored with provisions, and she confidently r' lied on receiving prompt relief from the associate barons. In this, however, she was disappointed, for the earl of Lancaster had no inten- tion to come to a rupture with the queen, his niece, so the castl was compelled to surrender at discretion on the last day of C/»;tober. Immediate vengeance was taken by the king, for the assault on the queen and her servants, on the seneschal Walter Colepepper, who, with eleven of the garrison, were hanged before the castle-gates.* Lady Badlesmere was committed to the Tower of London as a state-prisoner, and was threatened with the same fate that had been inflicted on her agents ; but it does not appear that she suffered any worse punishment than a long and rigorous imprisonment.^ With all their faults, there is no instance of any monarch of the Plantagenet line putting a lady to death for high treason. Flushed with his success at Leeds, king Edward recalled his banished favourites, the two Despencers, whose counsels quite accorded with the previous persuasions of the queen to use the military force he had levied for the reduction of Leeds-caatle, for the purpose of repressing the power of the associate barons.^ Isabella wji.« so deeply offended with the barons, as the allies of the Badlesmeres, that she not only refused to employ her influence in composing the difterences between them and the king, but did every thing in her power * Rymer's Fcedem, vol. iii. ' Walsinghani. Rftpln. * Bayley's History of the Tower, mf m \ nrf 1 u i! 4 AX'-„i„: 1... Iv&piiia w mi :k i * I I 492 ISABKITJV OF FRANCE. to influence the mind or !ier lord against them. Lancaster was taken at the l)attlc d 13oroughl)ridgc, where tlje sovereign fouglit in person against the associate barons, March IGtli, 1322. lie and ninety-five of his adherents, were conchictcd as prisoners to PontelVact-castle, where the king sat in jiulg. ment upon him, with a small jury of peers, by M'hom he was sentenced to lose his head. The queen, who for greater seciu'ity liad retired to the Tower to await her accouchement, was not aware f»f her uncle's sentence till after his execution, which took place only a few hours after his doom was pronounced.' It was at this agitating period that Isabella gave birth to her youngest clnld, the princess Joanna, who was called, from the place of h(;r nativity, Joanna de la Toiu*.' Some time before the birth of this infant, the two Mortimers, uncle and nephew, having been taken in arms against the king. Mere brought to the Tower as state-prisoners, imder sentence of death and confiscation of their great estates.'' Roger IMorti- mer, lord of ('hirk, the uncle, died of famine, through the neglect or cruelty of his gaolers in failing to supply him M'ith tlie necessaries of life, it has been said, soon after his cap- ture. Roger Mortimer, the nephew, was in the pride and vigour of manhood, and possessed of strength of constitution and energy of mind to struggle ^vith any hardship to which he might be exposed. The manner in which he contrived, while under sentence of death in one of the prison lodgings of the Tower of London, to create so powerful an interest in the heart of the beautifid consort of his offended sovereign, is not related by any of the chroniclers of that reign. It is possd)le, however, that Isabella's disposition for intemtieddling in political matters, might have emboldened this handsome and audacious rebel to obtam personal interviews with her, undei the coloiu* of being willing to communicate to her the ' Bartholomew Badlcsincre, the primary cause of the war, was talten at Stowe- Park, the scat of his nephew, the bishop of Lincoln, and ignoniiniously hangi'd at Canterbury, 2 I)c la Moor. Walsingham. Bayley's History of the Tower. Uruyloy and Britton's ditto. ^ Walsingham, &c. De la Moor. • ! 'owcr. Bruylcy and ISAnELT.A OF FIlANi'E. 403 secrets of his party. IIo wun the htushimd of n French h'.iy. Jiiiu; (le Joiuville, the heiress of sir Peter Joiiiville, juul tns in aU probiihihty only too well aeqimiuted with tlu; lanmi,ij;o that was moat pleasing to the ear of the (pieen and tho manners and refinements of her nativi; land, which iu civi- lization was greatly in advance of the bellicose realm of Enj;land. Be this as it may, Mortimer was reprieved through the good oftices of some powerful intercessor, and tlic king coinumtcd his sentence of death into peipetual imprisonment in the Tower. This occasioned some astonishment, when it was remembered that Mortimer was the first who had com- menced the civil war by his fierce attack on the lands of Hugh Despcncer, who was his sworn foe, and who at this very time had regained more than his former sway in the councils of king Edward ; but at that period the influence of the queen with her ru)al husband was paramoimt to any other, and it was probably on this accomit that the deadly feud conmienccd between her and the two Despencers, wliich ended so fatally for both.' The following precept was addressed by king Edward to his treasurer and the barons of the Exchequer, for the supply of his own and his queen's wardrobe : — " Edward, by the graco of God, &c. &c. " We command that yo provide wxtcen pieces of cloth for the apparelling of ourstlves and our dear companion, also furs, againat the next feast of Christmas, and thirteen pieces of cloth for corsets for our said companion and her damsels, with naping linen * and other things of which we stand in need against the said feast ; requiring you to assign to William Cassonces, the clerk of our wardrobe, one hundred and titteen p Wabingham. De la Moor. Rapui. ^ Table-linen. > Eot. Edw. II. 47 i: ! I, -A'^i 494 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. for high treason, but through the agency of Adam Orleton and Beck bishop of Durham, he obtained a respite.' On the 1st of August, the same year, Grerard Alspaye, the valet of Segrave the constable of the Tower, who was supposed to be in co-operation with him, gave the men-at-arms a soporific potion in their drink provided by the queen ; and while the guards were asleep, Mortimer passed through a hole he had worked in his own prison into the kitchen of the royal resi- dence, ascended the chimney, got on the roof of the palace, and from thence to the Thames' side by a ladder of ropes. Segrave's valet then took a sculler and rowed him over to the opposite bank of the river, where they found a party of seven horsemen, Mortimer's vassals, waiting to receive him. With this guard he made his way to the coast of Hampshire ; from thence, pretending to sail to the Isle of Wight, the boat in reality conveyed the fugitives on board a large ship, pro- vided by Ralf Botton, a London merchant, which was anchored off the Needles : this ship landed them safely in Normandy, whence they proceeded to Paris.'"* Edward was in Lancashire when he heard of the escape of Mortimer: he roused all England with a hue and cry after him, but does not seem to have had the least idea of his destination, as he sought him chiefly in the Mortimers' hereditary demesnes, — ^the marches of Wales. Meantime, the queen commenced her deep-laid schemes for the ruin of Mortimer's enemies, the Despencers, whom she taught the people to regard as the cause of the sanguinaiy executions of Lancaster and his adherents, though her own impatient desire of avenging the affronts she had received from lady Badlesmere had been the .aeans of exasperating the sovereign against that party. Now she protested against all the punishments that had been inflicted, and was the first ^ Leiand's Collectanea. 2 Rymer. Bayley'a History of the Tower. " Mortimer," says the chronicle quoted by Drayton, " being in the Tower, ordered a feast for his birthday; and inviting there sir Stephen Segrnve constable of the Tower, with the rest of the officers belonging to the same, gave them a sleepy drink provided hiia by tlie queen, by which means he got liberty for his escape : ho swam the Thames to the opposite shore, the q-aeen doubting much of his strength for such an exploit, OS he had been long in confinement.'' ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 495 f Adam Orletou, espite.^ On the lye, the valet of s supposed to be -arms a soporific ; and while the h a hole he had >f the royal reai- of of the palace, ladder of ropes, wed hun over to found a party of y to receive him. st of Hampshire; f Wight, the boat a, large ship, pro- lich was anchored Bly in Normandy, was in Lancashire p: he roused all does not seeon to 9S he sought him les, — ^the marches leep-laid schemes espencers, whom of the sanguinary though her own she had received s of exasperating protested against and was the first er," says the chronicle fc for his birthday; and :r, with the rest of the provided hiia by tlie swam the Thames to rth for such an exploit, who pretended to regard Lancaster as a martyr and a saint. The two Despencers had succeeded in obtaining the same sort of ascendancy over the mind of the king that had been once enjoyed by Gaveston; they were his principal ministers of state, and they had ventured to curtail the revenues of the queen. This imprudent step afforded her a plausible excuse for declaring open hostilities against them. No one had ever offended her without paying a deadly penalty. She perceived that she had lost her influence with her royal husband during his absence in the civil war in the north, and though it is evident that an ilhcit passion on her part had preceded the alienation of the king's regard for her, she did not complain the less loudly of her wrongs on that account; neither did she scruple to brand the Despencers with aU the accusations she had formerly hurled at Gaveston, charging them with having deprived her of the love of her royal husband.' A fierce struggle for supremacy between her and the Despencers, during the year 1324, ended in the discharge of all her French servants, and the substitution of an 'nadequate pension for herself, instead of the royal demesnes which had been settled on her by the king.* Isabella wrote her indignant complaints of this treatment to her brother, Charles le Bel, who had just succeeded to the throne of France, declaring, " that she was held in no higher consideration than a servant in the pdace of the king her husband," whom she styled a gripple miser ^^ a character which the thoughtless and prodigal Edward was very far from deserving. The king of France, exasperated by his sister's representations of her wrongs, made an attack on Guienne, which afforded an excuse to the Despencers for advising king Edward to deprive the queen of her last pos- session in England, — ^the earldom of Cornwall. The king resumed this grant in a peculiarly disobhging manner, giving the queen to understand " that he did not consider it safe to allow any portion of his territories to remain in her hands, as she maintained a secret correspondence with the enemies of the state."* The feuds between the royal pair proceeded to such a 1 t.i m't • Walsingham. De la Moor. 3 De la Moor. Speeu. * Walsingbivn. Kapin. Speed. * Walsingliiuu. Bapin. ?^ K? 4^ p *. i1 ' in 1 »r T 1 ~ 1^ 496 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. height, that Isabella denied her company to her lord,' and he refused to come where she was.^ The queen passionately charged this estrangement on the Despencers, and reiterated her complaints to her brother. King Charles testified his in- dignant sense of his sister's treatment, by declaring his inten- tion of seizing all the provinces held by king Edward of the French crown, he having repeatedly summoned him in vain to perform the accustomed homage for them. Edward was not prepared to engage in a war for their defence, and neither he nor his ministers liked the alternative of a personal ^dsit to the com-t of the incensed brother of queen Isabella, after the indignities that had been offered to her.^ In this dilemma, Isabella herself obhgingly volunteered to act as mediatrix between the two monarchs, provided she might be permitted to go to Paris to negotiate a pacification. Edward, who had so often been extricated from his political difiiculties by the diplomatic talents of his fair consort, was only too happy to avail himself of her proposal.^ It has been asserted by many historians, that queen Isa- bella privately withdrew to France with her son, the prince of Wales, to claim the protection of lier brother, Charles le Bel, against the king her husband, and his ministers the De- spencers ; but a careful reference to those authorities which may be called the fountain-heads of histoiy, — the Record rolls of that reign, will satisfactorily prove that she was sent as an accredited envoy from the deluded Edward, to negotiate this treaty with her royal brother. Eroissart, who purposely veils the blackest traits of Isabella's character, her profound hypo- crisy and treachery, represents her as flying from the barbarous persecutions of her husband and the Despciicers, Hke some dis- tressed queen of romance, and engaging, by her beauty and eloquence, all the chivalric spirits of France and Hainault to arm for the redress of her wrongs. He has succeeded in giving just such a colour to her proceedings as would be least otfen- sive to her son Edward III., with whom, for obvious reasons, the M'hole business must have been a peculiarly sore subject.' ' De la Moor. ' Froissart. ^ Caite. Bapin. * Ibid. " It is to he remembered that Froissart, wlio, though a contemporary, was too yourg, at the time these events took place, to speak from his own knowkdge, •Il 0 her lord,' and leen passionately 9, and reiterated IS testified his in- claring his inteu- g Edward of the ined him in vain oa. Edward was ence, and neither 1 personal ^isit to [sabella, after the In this dilemma, act as mediatrix ght be permitted Edward, who had difficulties by the )nly too happy to 1, that queen Isa- r son, the prince 'Other, Charles le iiinisters the De- authorities which —the Record rolls le was sent as an to negotiate this 10 purposely veils r profound hji30- -om the barbarous ers, hke some dis- her beauty and and Hainault to icceeded in giving Id be least offen- obvious reasons, rly sore subject.' ipin. ' Ibid, contemporaiy, was too in his own knowkilgc, ISABELLA OP FRANCE. 497 Th3 propriety of the queen undertaking the mission to the court of France was debated, first in the council, and after- wards in the parliament which met January 21st,* 1323, to consider the affairs of Guienne, when it was agreed that any expedient was better than pursumg the war.* A hoUow reconciliation was eflfected between Isabella and the Despen- cers, who were dehghted at the prospect of her departure from England, and she parted from her husband, apparently on terms of confidence and good-will. Isabella sailed for France in the beginning of May, attended by the lord John Cromwell and four knights. She landed at Calais and pro- ceeded to Paris, where the first fruit of her mediation was a truce between her brother and the king her husband. She then negotiated an amicable treaty, proposing the sur- render of Guienne, already forfeited by the neglect of the feudal homage to the king of France, which was to be re- stored, at her personal instances, by her brother to the king of England, on condition of his performing the accustomed homage, and remunerating the king of France for the expenses of the war. This was to take place at a friendly interview between the two monarchs at Beauvais."^ The Despencers, anticipatmg with alarm the great proba- bility of the queen regaining her wonted ascendancy over the mind of her royal husband, dissuaded him from crossing to the shores of France, even when his preparations for the voyage were completed, Isabella, who was well informed of these demurs, and perfectly understood the vacillating cha- racter of her husband, proposed to him that he should invest their son, the prince of Wales, with the duchy of Guienne and the earldom of Ponthieu, and send him as his substitute to perform the homage for those countries to the king her brother, — ^king Charles iiaving signified his assent to such an arrangement, in compliimce with her sohcitations. King lias followed what he calls the " true chronicle " of John le Bel, canon of St. Lambert of Liege, who was the favourite counsellor and confessor of John of Hainault, the sworn champion of queen Isabella, of whose iniquities tlie sly eccle- siastic is a subtle palliator, and has evidently done his best to mystify such pitftj of hor conduct as were indefensible. ' WalsiiirrliiiiTi. PuIjUc Acts. VOL. I. xvymers j^OiUera. K K ;•,* f „ f J 1 4 4 w 498 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Edward, far from suspecting the guilefiil intentions of his consort, eagerly complied with this proposal; and the De- spencers, not being possessed of sufficient penetration to under, stand the motives which prompted the queen to get the heir of England into her own power, fell into the snare. On the 12th of September, 1325, prince Edward, attended by the bishops of Oxford, Exeter, and a splendid train of nobles and knights, sailed from Dover ;^ landing at Boulogne, he was joined by the queen his mother on the 14th, who accompanied him to Paris, where his first interview with the king his uncle took place in her presence, and he performed the act of feudal homage on the 2l8t at the Bois de Vincennes.^ ' Rymer's Foedera. ' " Act made at the wood of Vincennes by Edward (son of Edward II,), in the presence of the queen his mother, and many grandees of England." .... After the usual formula regarding the homage of Guienne, a clause is added, in these words : — " And as for the country of Ponthieu, according to the protesta- tion made by madame the queen of England, then present, the homage dons bv the prince her son was not in any way to prejudice her interests therein, and the said Edward promises to hold peace for his father; 1335, the iith September."— Abstract of the Frencli Act, copied from Harleian MSS. m ISABELLA OF FRANCE, SURNAMED THE FAIR. QUEEN OF EDWARD II. CHAPTER II. Isabella's intrigues — Queen and prince recalled to England — Her disobedience- King Edward's letters — Barons invite her to invade England — Familiarities with Mortimer — Scandal at the French court — Isabella dismissed from France — Her visit to Hainault — Her voyage to England — Lends — Enthusiasm of the people — Proclamation — Her triumphal progress — Capture of the king — Lon- doners welcome the queen -Deposition of Edward II. — Queen's hypocrisy — Seizes the government — Exorbitant dower — Her ball prevented by a popular tumult — Murder of the king — Isabella's peace with Scotland — League against the queen — Her vindictive disposition — Follies of Mortimer — Parliament at Nottingham — Isabella's precautions — Mortimer taken prisoner — Her passionate iiiterfession — His execution — Her imprisonment — Manner of sjtcnding her time there — Exports of her madness — Visits of her son — References to her in the parliamentary rolls — Her household at Castle-Rising — Visited by Edward III. and Philippa — Death of isabcUa — Entrance of her funeral »n*» London — Buried by Mortimer's side. The wording of the treaty negotiated between Isabella and her brother, the king of France, was couched in such ambiguous terms, as to leave considerable matter for dispute between king Edwar' and that monarch, even after the required homage had been performed by the heir of England for the fiefs held of the Frenclt crown. This difference, which regarded the province of Agenois, had been contrived by Isabella, to afford a plausible pretext for prolonging her stay in Paris. She was there joined by her paramour Mortuner, and all the k K .^ 500 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. , ^ ) > \' banished English lords flocked round her,' She held frequent councils and meetings with the declared enemies of king Edward's person and government, and she altogether avoided the commissioners' by whose advice the king had appointed her to be guided. The Enghsh ambassadors were surprised and offended at the conduct of the queen, and the frivolous- ness of the pretences on which she from day to day delayed her departure from Paris. But Walter Stapleton, the loyal bishop of Exeter, whom she had endeavoured to draw into her conspiracy, withdrew to England, informed the king of her proceedings, and lu-ged him to command her immediate return with the prince of Wales.' King Edward wrote urgent letters and royal summonses to his consort and son for that purpose : his most peremptory orders were disregarded by Isabella, who asserted " that it was the intention of the Despencers to cause her to be put to death, if she returned to England ;" on which the king of France, her brother, wrote to king Edward, "that he could not permit her to return to him, unless she were guaranteed from the evil that was meditated against her by her enemies the Despencers."* Kmg Edward'a manly and eloquent reply to this letter is preserved among the Close reoord-roUs of the nineteenth year of his reign. We translate it from the ancient French copy, printed in the fourth volume of Rymer's Foedera : — " Veey deab and beloved Brother, " We have received, and well considered, your letters delivered to us by the honourable father in God, the bishop of Winchester, who has also discoursed witli us, by word of inouth, on the contents of the said letters. " It seems that you have been told, dearest brother, by persons whom you con- Bider worthy of credit, that our companion, the queen of England, dare not return to us, being in peril of her life, i\s she apprehends, from Hugh le Despcncer. Certes, dearest brother, it cannot be that she cjm have fear of him, or any other man in our realm ; since, par Dieu ! if either Hugh or any otlier \\\'m^ Iwing in our dominions would wish to do her ill, and it came to our knowledge, \vc would chastise him in a manner that should oe an example to all others ; and this is, and always will be, our entire will, as long as, by God's mercy, we have the power. And, dearest brother, know certainly that we have never perceived that ' De la Moor. Walsingham. ' Ibid. ' MS. Lives of the Lord Treasurers, by Francis Thynne, esq.; in the collection of sir 1'homas Phillipps, hart., at Middle Hill. * De la Moor. Walsinghiun. Rapin. Sjioed. 5he held frequent enemies of king Jtogether avoided ig had appointed irs were surprised ind the frivolous- ly to day delayed dpletoTi, the loyal I to draw into her the king of her immediate return rote urgent letters for that purpose : I by Isabella, who espencers to cause gland;'' on which ng Edward, " that , unless she were 2d against her hy y to this letter is le nineteenth year lent French copy, jdera : — delivered to us by the las also discoursed witli persons whom you con- of England, dare not )m Hugh le Despcncev. ir of him, or any other ly otlier liviii;^ teing in kuDwledge, \vc would all others ; and this is, 8 mercy, we have the e never perceived that « Ibid, esq.; in the collection ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 501 he has, either secretly or openly, by word, look, or ttction, demeaned himself otherwise than he ought in all points to do, to so very dear a lady. And when we remember the amiable looks and words between them that we have seen, and the great friendship she professed for him before she crossed the sea, and the loving letters which she has lately sent him, which he has shown to us, we have no power to believe that ova consort can, of herself, credit such things of him ; we carmot in any way believe it of him, who, after our own person, is the man, of all our realm, who would most wish to do her honour, and has always shown good sincerity to you. We pray you, dearest brotlier, not to give credence to any one who would make you otherwise suppose ; but to put your faith in those who have always borne true witness to you in other things, and who have the best reason to know the truth of this matter. Wherefore we beseech you, dearfist brother, both for your honour and ours, but more especially for that of our said consort, that you would compel her to return to us with all speed ; for, certes, we have been ill at ease for the want of her company, in which we have much delight ; and if our surety and safe-conduct is not enough, then lot her come to us Dn the pledge of your good faith for us. " We also entreat you, dearly beloved brother, that you woidd be pleased to deliver up to us Edward, our beloved eldest son, your nephew ; and that, of your love and affection to him, you would render to him the lands of the duchy,' that he be not disinherited, which we cannot supptise you wish. Dearly beloved brother, we pray you to suffer him to come to us with all speed, for we have often sent for him, and we greatly wish to see him and to speak with him, and every day we long for his return. « And, dearest brother, at this time the honourable father in God, Walter bishop of Exeter, has returned to us, having certified to us that his person was in peril from some of our banished enemies, and we, having great need of his counsel, enjoined him on his faith and allegiance to return forthwith, leaving all other matters in the best way he could. Wc pray you, therefore, to excuse the sudden departure of the said bishop, for the cause before said. " Given at Westminster, the first day of December," (1325). Edward's letter to Isabella herself, on the same subject, is exceedingly temperate, but evidently written imder a deep sense of injury, and with a formal courtesy very different from the friendly and confidential style in which he addresses her brother, as our readers will perceive : — KnxGt Edwabd to Queen Isabella. " Lady, " Oftentimes have we informed you, both before and after the homage, our groat desire to have you with us, and of om- grief of heart at yoar long absence ; and as we understand that you do us great mischief by this, we will that you come to us with all speed, and without fm'ther excuses. " Before the homage was performed, you made the advancement of that business an excuse ; and now that we have sent by the honourable father, the bishop of Winchester, our safe-conduct to you, * you will not come for the fear and doubt of Hugh le Despencer !' Whereat we cannot marvel too much, when we recall your flattering dupurtment towai-ds each other in our presence, so amicable and sweet was your deportment, with special assurances and looks, and M 1 I I ,! il i *': ' f u > I Aquitaine, for which the young prhico had gone to Paris to do lus homage to UUarles, 502 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. fitlicr tokens of the firmest friendship, and also, since then, your very ofipccial letters to him of late date, which he has shown to us. " And eertes, hidy, we know for truth, and so know you, that he hm always procured trom us all the honour he could for you, nor to you haw either evil or villany heen done since you enterecl into our companionship ; unless, peradventure as you may yourself remembe- , once, when we had cause to give you secretly some words of reproof for your pride, but without other harshness : and, doubt- less, both God and the law of our holy church require you to honour us, and ibr nothing earthly to trespass against our commandments, or to forsake our com- pany. And we are much displeiised, now the homage has been matle to our dt^urest brother, the king of France, and we have such fair prospect of amity, that you, whom we sent to make the peace, should be the cause (which Ood fore- fend) of increasing the breach between us by things which are feigned and eor- trary to the truth. Wlu'vefore we charge you as urgently as we can, thut ceasing from all pretences, delays, and excuses.' you come to us with all the hnste you can. Our saiil bishop has reported to us that our brother, the king of France, told you in his presence, ' that, by the tenour of your safe-conduct, you would not be delayed or molested in coming to us aa a wife should to her lord.' And as to your expenses, when it sliall be that you will come to us as a wife should to her lord, we will provide that there shall be no deficiency in aught that is pertaining to you, and that you be not in any way dishonoured by uw. Also we require of you that our dear son Edward return to us with all jwssible speed, for we much desire to see him and to speak with him." * King Edward, in conclusion, repeats to the queen the same observations on the sudden return of the bishop of Exeter, •which our readers have seen in his letter to her brother, the king of France. Both letters are dated on the same day, December 1, 1325. His letter to the prince of Wales, dated the next day, is as follows : — "Very dear Son, " As you are young and of tender age, we remind you of that wWch wc charged imd crefore, fair son, desist you fron\ a part v/hich is so shameful, and may bo to you periloiu' and iiyuri is in too many ways. We are not pleased with you, and neither for your mot^ ( , nor for any other, ought you to displease us. We charge you by the toith, Ic c, and allegiance which you owe us, and on our blessing, that you come K us without opposition, delay, or any further excuse ; for your mother has written to us, • that if you wish to return to us she will not prevent it,' and we do not understand that your uncle the king detains you against the form of your safe-conduct. In no manner, then, either for your mother or to go to the duchy, nor for any other cause, delay to come to us. Our commands arc for your good, and for your honour, by the help of God. Come qir'fkly, then, without further excuse, if you would have our blessing, and avoid o: reproach and im: ^^natiou. " It is oiu" wish to order all things for the good of the duchy, and our other dominions, for our mutual honour and benefit. If John of Bretagne, and John de Cromwcil, will come in your company, they will do their duty. " Fair son, trespiuss not s^ainst our commands, for we hear much that you Imve done of things you ought not. « Given at Lichfield, the 18tl day of March." ' ' King Edward bestows this appellation on the favourite, because he was the husband of his great- niece the heiress of Glouceste?. ^ Malveys is the wo'^d useu in the original Frencli by the hicensed king. ' llymer's Foec'ei* ^"m the Close Rolls of the 19th year of Edward If. » 1 1 111 ^ , i^ '0,f,i.^Ji 504 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. From tlic tenour of this letter, it is < • , x'nt that Edward II. had been informed of his queen's clandestinf and certainly most unconstitutional proceecUngs with regard to contraetiii}^ their son, the youthful !\eir of Enghmd, in marriagij, without his knowledge or th- oonsent of parliament. This was the more annoying to the king, because he was himself negotiating a matrimonial alliance between the prince of Wdes and tlie infanta Eleanora of Arragon, long before the departure of the queen to the court of France. Matters were indeed so fiir advanced, that application had been made to the pope for a dispensation,' when the whole scheme was traversed by her plighting the prince to the daughter of the count of Haiuault. It seems that the bride's portion, which was paid in advanee, was required by Isabella to support herself against her un- happy lord, to whom, however, she continued to hold out unmeaning professions of her dutiful inclinations, as we per- ceive from his reply to one of the letters addressed to him by her brother, the king of France : — " Dearest Brother, " Wo have consulored well your letters, in which yon signify thiit you have spoken with good diligence to your sister, touching the things on which wc have replied to you, and that she has told you, ' that it is her desire to bo with ns, and in our company, as a good wife ought to be in that of her lord ; and that the friendship between her and our dear and faithftil nephew H. le Deapeiiar was but feigned on her part, because she saw it was expedient for her support in past time, and to secure herself from worse treatment.' Certes, dearest brother, if she loved us, she would desire to be in our company, as she has said. She who ought to be the mediatrcss between us of entire and lasting peace, should not !« the cause of stirring up fresh strife, as she has done, when she was sent to nourish peace and love between you and us, which we intended in all good faith when wc Bent her to you ; but the thought of her heart was to devise that pretence for withdrawing from us. We have already shown you that what she has told you is, saving your reverence, not the truth, for never (so much as she has done aajainst us) has she received either evil or villany from us, or from any other. Neither has she had any occasion ' lor feints to support herself in times passed, no; to escape from worse,' ^ for never in the slightest instance has evil been done to her by him ; "^ and since she has departed from us and come to you, what has compelled her to send to our dear and trusty nephew, H. le Despencer, letters of such great and especial amity as she has been pleased to do from time to time ? " But truly, dearest brother, it must be as apparent to you as to us, and to all ' See Rymer's Fcedera, vol. iv. ' These sentences, marked by commas, are evidently quotations from Isul)olIa's rejiresentations. ^ Hugh le Despencer. Yet the deprivation of the queen's revenue was a serious injury ; its restoration must have taken place directly, or the queen would have ivged it at this time sa a matter uf compiaintw : thut Edward II. inc; and certainly j-d to contraetiiif,' marriage, without t. This was the imself negotiating 3f Wales and the ) departure of the ere indeed so far to the pope for a traversed by her ount of Hainault. I paid in advance, f against her uii- lucd to hold out ations, as we pcr- iressed to him hy I signify that you have ingH on which we have Br desire to bo with ns, of her lord ; and tlmt phew H. le Despencir lent for her support in ertcH, dearest brother, he lias said. She who g peace, should not he 10 was sent to nourish ,11 good faith when we vise that pretence for what she has told you uch as she has done 8, or from any other, [Orself in times passed, ice has evil been done me to you, what has Despencer, letters of from time to time ? lU as to us, and to all ations from IsalicUa's en's revenue was a I, or the queen would ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 505 men, that «hc doos no* 1nvo u« m she ought lo love her h)rd; and the cause why she has si)()lm -other, you would chastise her for this mis- conduct, and iiial Iv Tuoii" as she ought, for the honour of all thoHu to whom she belong' T on, dearest brother, is made also by his motht^i , your sister, the com ir 'i ' traitor and foe, who is his counsellor in delaying his return, •>." Some requests touc ruienne follow, and after repeating liis entreaties for his ^wii to be restored to him, king Edward concludes in the following words : — " And that you will be pleased to do these things, dearest brother, for the sake of Qod, reastm, good faith, and natural fraternity, without paying regard to the light pleasaunce of a woman, is our desire. " Given at Lichfield, the 18th of March." After this letter, Charh^s le Bel is said to have looked very coolly on his sister, and even to have urged her to return, with her son, to the royal husband. Isabella had other intentions, having gone too far, she felt, to recede, without incurring in reality the perils which she had before pretended to dread. Her party in England had now, through the mahgnant activity of her especial agent, Adam Orleton, bishop of Hereford, become so strong, that about this time she received a deputation from the confederate barons, assuring her " that if she could only raise a thousand men, and would come with the prince to England at the head of that force, they would place him on the throne to govern under her guidance."' Already by her persuasions and fair promises she had secured the assistance of many young nobles and miUtary adventurers, who were ready to engage in her cause.' The Despencers had information of her proceedings, and, if we may trust the assertions of Froissart, they circumvented her by the skilful distribution of counter bribes among the ministers of the king of France, and even addressed their ' Walsiughiuu. De la Moor. Froissart. ~ i ruissart. I i •■'! '! IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4 1.0 I.I |50 ■^~ ■■■ WUi. 1.25 II u U .4 6" — >■ 0% '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) S73-4S03 5 X"^^ ^> %'• 606 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. a golden arguments to king Charles himself so successfiilly, that he withdrew his comitenance from his royal sister, and forbade any person, under pain of punishment, to aid or assist her in her projected invasion of England.' Less partial historians however, attribute this change in king Charles's pohtics to the scandal which his sister's conduct with regard to Mortimer excited in his court. The remonstrances contained in the following letter from king Edward had also, perhaps, some effect : — « Most dear and bbloved Bbotheb, " We would wish you to remember that we have, at different times, wgnifieil to you by our letters how improperly your sister our wife has conducted herself in withdrawing from us and refusing to return at our command, while she so notoriously has attached to her company and consorts with our traitor and mortal enemy the Mortimer, and our other enemies there, and also makes Edward, our son and heir, an adherent of the same our enemy, to our great shame, and that of every one of her blood ; and if you wish her well, you ought, both for youi- own honour and om's, to have these things duly redressed." After reiterating his earnest entreaties for the restoration of the prince, his son, " who is," he observes, " of too tender an age to guide and govern himself, and therefore ought to be under his paternal care," king Edward implores him to put his son in possession of the duchy fo. which he had per- formed the homage as stipulated, and that without dwelling too particularly on the wording of the covenant, (which had evidently been designedly mystified by the contrivance of Isabella) ; he adds, — " But these things are as nothing : it is the herding of our said wife and son with our trMtors and mortal enemies that notoriously continues ; insomuch, that the said traitor, the Mortimer, was carried in the train of our said son publicly to Paris at the solemnity of the coronation of oiur very dear sister your wife, the queen of France, at the Pentecost just passed, to oiu* great shame, and in despite of us. " Wherefore, dearest brother, we pray you, as earnestly as we can, by the rights and blessings of peace, and the entire friendship that subsists between us, that you will of your benevolence effectuL-'y attend to our supreme desire that we be not thus dishonoured, and our son disinherited, which we cannot suppose you wish. " Dearest brother, you ought to feel for us, and so should all men of our estate, for much wo are, and much we have been, grieved at the shameful dcspitcs and great injury which we have so long endured. Nay, verily, brother-in-law, but we cannot bear it longer. The Holy Spirit have charge of yon " ' * Froissart. • Bymer's Fcederaj trova the Close Rolls of the 19th year of Edward II. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 507 year of Edward II. In the month of June, 1326, king Edwaxd made a last fruitless attempt to prevail on the prince, his son, to withdraw himself from the evil counsels and companions of the queen, his mother, and to return to him. This letter, like the pre- ceding correspondence, affords indubitable evidence how accu- rately the unfortunate husband of Isabella was informed of her proceedings with regard to Mortimer: — "Edwabd, faib Son, " We have seen by your letters lately written to us, that you well remember tlie charges we enjomed you on your departure from Dover, and that you have not transgressed our commands in any point that was in your power to avoid. But to us it appears that you have not humbly obeyed our commands as a good son ought his father, since you have not returned to us to be under government, as we have enjoined you by our other letters, on our blessing; but have noto- riously held companionship, and your mother also, with Mortimer, our traitor and mortal enemy, who, in company with your mother and others, was publicly carried to Paris in your train to the solemnity of the coronation, at Pentecost just past, in signal despite of us, and to the great dishonour both of us and you : for truly he is neither a meet companion for your mother nor for you, and we hold that much evil to the country will come of it. " Also we understand that you, through counsel which is contrary both to our interest and yours, have proceeded to make divers alterations, injunctions, and ordinances without our advice, and conti*ary to our orders, in the duchy of Gnienne, which we have given you j but you ought to remember the conditions 0? the gift, and your reply when it was conferred upon you at Dover. These things are mconvenient, and must be most injurious. Therefore we command and charge you, on the faith and love you ought to bear us, and on our blessing, that you show yourself our dear and well-beloved son as you have aforetime done ; and, ceasing from all excuses of your mother, or any like those that you have just written, you come to us here with all haste, that we may ordidn for you and your state as honourably as you can desire. By right and reason you ought to have no other governor than us, neither should you wish to have. " Also, fiur son, we charge you by no means to marry till you return to us, nor without our advice and consent ; nor, for any cause, either go to the duchy, or elsewhere, against our will and command. " P.S. Edward, fiiir son, you are of tender age : take our commandments ten- derly to heart, and so rule yovur conduct with humility as you wouli escape our reproach, our grief and indignation, and advance your own interest and honour. Believe no counsel that is contrary to the will of your father, as the wise king Solomon instructs you. Understand certainly, that if you now act contrary to our counsel, and continue in wilful disobedience, you will feel it all the days of your life, and all other sons will take example to be disobedient to their lords and fethers." » Not only did the evil influence of Isabella prevent the paternal remonstrances of the royal writer from having a proper effect on the mind of her son, but she succeeded in persuading him that she was the object of the most barbarous ' Rymer'g Fudera, vol. iv.; from the Close Rolls of 19th Edward XL m r 508 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. i'^' i persecution, both from the Despencers and the king her hus- band. King Edward sent copies of his letters to the pope,' and entreated his interference so effectually, that the pontiff addressed his censures to Charles le Bel on his detention of the queen of England from her royal consort, and charged him, under the penalty of excommunication, to dismiss both Isabella and her son from his dominions. "When king Charles had read these letters,'' says Froissart, "he was greatly disturbed, and ordered his sister to be made acquainted with their contents, for he had held no conversation with her for a long time ; and commanded her to leave his kingdom immediately, or he would make her leave it with shame."' " When the queen received this angry and contemptuous message from her brother, she was greatly troubled ■" for the French barons had already withdrawn themselves, either, as Froissart states, by the king's commands, or through disgust at the infatuation of her conduct with regard to Mortimer, " and she had no adviser left but her dear cousin, Robert d'Artois ;" and he could only assist her secretly, since the king, her brother, had not only said, but sworn, " that whoever should speak in behalf of his sister, the queen of England, should forfeit his lands, and be banished the realm." Robert of Artois had also discovered that a plan was in agitation for deUvering queen Isabella, the prince her son, the earl of Kent, and sir Rcger " "timer, to king Edward.' " Robert of Artois came iu middle of the night to warn Isabella of the peril in which she stood. The queen was struck with consternation at this intelligence; he strongly urged her to enter the imperial territories, and to throw herself upon the protection of some of the indepen- dent German princes, especially William count of Hainault, whose consort was Isabella's first cousin. The queen ordered her baggage to be made ready as secretly as pos.sible, and having paid every thing, — (a point of honesty recorded to her credit by Froissart,) — she quitted Paris with her son, and ' Rymer's Foedera, vol. iv. ; from the Close Bolls of the 19th of Edward II. Froisuart. Wulsinghuin. * FroUsart. ' Ibid. ;he king her hu3- ;ter8 to the pope,' r, that the pontiff I his detention of 3ort, and charged 1, to dismiss both 3. "When king roissart, "he was 3 made acquainted versation with her eave his kingdom with shame."" uid contemptuous y troubled ;" for ;hem8elves, either, ands, or through uct with regard left but her dear only assist her not only said, hut of his sister, the and be banished iscovered that a abella, the prince "timer, to king middle of the she stood. The intelligence J he erritories, and to of the indepeu- unt of Hainault, |he queen ordered as possible, and recorded to her h her son, and \e 19th of Edward II. Ibid. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 509 accompanied by Mortimer, and likewise by her husband's brother the earl of Kent, who had been attached to the homage- deputation, and was at this time decidedly her partisan. After some days she came into the country of Cambray. When she found that she was in the territories of the tmpire, she was more at her ease ; she entered Ostrevant, in Hainault, and lodged at the house of a poor knight, called sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt,' who received her with great pleasure, and entertained her in the best manner he could, insomuch that afterwards the queen of England and her son invited the knight, his wife, and all his children to England, and advanced their fortunes in various ways. " The arrival of the queen of England was soon known in the house of the good count of Hainault, who was then at Valenciennes: sir Jolm, his brother, was likewise informed of the hour when she alighted at the house of the lord of Ambreticourt. This sir John being at that time very young, and panting for glory like a knight-errant, mounted his horse, and accompanied by a few persons set out from Valen- ciennes, and arrived in the evening to pay the queen every respect and honour." The queen was at this time very dejected, and made a lamentable complaint to him of all her griefs; which a^Tected sir John so much, that he mixed his tears with hers, and said : " Lady, see here your knight, who will not fail to die for you, though every one else should forsake you ; therefore I will do every thing in my power to conduct you safely to England with your son, and to restore you to your rank, with the assistance of your friends in those parts ; and I, and all those whom I can influence, will risk our hves on the adventure for your sake, and we shall have a sufficient armed force, if it please God, without fearing any danger from the king of France." The queen, who was sitting down and sir John standing before her, would have cast herself at his feet ; but he, gallantly interposing, caught her in his arms and said, — - "God forbid that the queen of England should do such a Madam, be of good comfort to yourself and com- ' Froissart. thing! li ^'.11 Wl 510 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. V' ;^' r'* . i V I"' Iv pany, for I will keep my promise ; and you shall come and see my brother and the countess his wife, and all their fine children, who will be rejoiced to see you, for I have heard them say so." The queen answered : " Sir, I find in you more kindness and comfort than in all the world besides ; and I give you five hundred thousand thanks for all you have promised me with so much courtesy. I and my son shall be for ever bound unto you, and we will put the kingdom of Eng. land under your management, as in justice it ought to be.'" When Isabella quitted the castle of Ambreticourt she told sir Eustace and his lady " that she trusted a time would come when she and her son could acknowledge their courtesy." She then mounted her horse and set off Avith her train, accom- panied by sir John, who with joy and respect conducted her to Valenciennes. Many of the citizens of the town came forth to meet her, and received her with great humility. She was thus conducted to William count of Hainault, ^vho, as well as the countess, received her very graciously. Many great feasts were given on this occasion, as no one knew better than the countess how to do the honours of her house.^ Queen Isabella remained at Valenciennes during eight days with the good count and his countess, Joanna of Valois. When she was preparing for heac departure, John of Hainault wrote very affectionate letters to certain knights-companions, in whom he put great confidence, from Brabant and Bohemia, " beseeching them, by all the fiiendsliip there was between them, to arm in the cause of the distressed queen of England.'" The armament having assembled at Dort, the queen of England took leave of the coimt of Hainault and his countess, thanking them much for the honourable entertainment they had shown her, and she kissed them at her departure. Su* John with great difficulty obtained his lord and brother's permission to accompany Isabella. When he took leave of him he said, — " My desr lord and brother, I am young, and believe that God has inspired me with a desire of this enter- prise for my advancement. I also beheve for certain, that this lady and her son have been driven from their kingdom ' Froissart. ' Ibid. • Ibid. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 511 wrongfully. If it is for the glory of God to comfort the afliicted, how much more is it to help and succour one who is daughter of a king, descended from royal lineage, and to whose blood we ourselves are related ! I will renounce every thing here, and go and take up the cross in heathendom beyond seas, if this good lady leaves us without comfort and aid. But if you will grant me a wiUing leave, I shall do well, and accomplish my purpose." The queen, her son, and suite finally set off, accompanied by sir John, and went that night to Mons, where they slept. Ttey embarked at Dort, according to Froissart, whose account of their voyage and landing on the terra incognita between Orford and Harwich is so marvellous, that the simple matter- of-fact details of the chronicle of Flanders appear much more to the purpose : " The fleet was tossed with a great tempest, but made the port about noon, when the queen being got safely on shore, her knights and attendants made her a house with four carpets, open in the front, where they kindled her a great fire of the pieces of Avreck, some of their ships having been beaten to pieces in the tempest ; meantime the Flemish sailors got on shore before roidnight all the horses and arms, and then the ships that had sui-vived the storm sailed (the wind being favourable) to the opposite coast. But the queen, finding herself ill at ease on the stormy sea-beach that night, marched at day-break, with banners displayed, towards the next country town, where she found all the houses amply and well furnished with provisions, but all the people fled." The advanced-guard, meantime, spread themselves over the countiy, and seized all the cattle and food they could get ; and the owners followed them, crjong bitterly, into the presence of the queen, who asked them " What was the fair value of the goods V* and when they named the price, she paid them all liberally in ready money. The people were so pleased with this conduct, that they supplied her well with provisions. " Queen Isabella arrived at Hai'wich on the 25th of Sep- tember, 1326,* on the domain of Thomas of Brotherton, the king's brother, who was the first that greeted her on her land- * History of Harwich, by Silas Taylor. ■I iHlJ 0^ i \ 612 ISABELLA OF VBAKCE. n ing.' Then she was met and welcomed by her uncle, Henry of Lancaster, and many other barons and knights, and almost all the bishops, notwithstanding the king's proclamation com. manding all men to avoid the queen's armament at its first landing." Hei' force consisted of two thousand seven hun- dred and fifty-seven foreign soldiers, well appointed, com- manded by lord John of Hainault. Mortimer was the leader of her English partisans. As he was a husband, and the father of a numerous family, the question naturally occurs, what became of lady Mortimer while her husband devoted himself as cavalih'e servente to the queen Isabel in France ? but the king certainly displayed more than hia usual lack of judgment in this matter. When Mortimer escaped to France, Edward seized poor lady Mortimer and her three daughters, and shut them in separate convents," greatly to the satisfaction of the guilty parties, who had nothing to do but to keep them there when they obtained power. If the aggrieved king had possessed common sense, he would have taken some pains to send lady Mortimer and her children to France, who might have proved embarrassing company to the queen. The historian of Harwich declares that it was wonderful how the common people flocked to queen Isabella on her landing. Every generous feeling in the Enghsh character had been worked upon by her emissaries, who had dissemi- nated inflammatory tales of the persecutions she had endured from the king her husband, and his barbarous ministers. It was asserted that she had been driven into a foreign land by plots against her life, and that she was the most oppressed of queens, — ^the most injured of -wives. So blinding was the excitement which, at this crisis, pervaded all classes of the people, that the glaring falsehood of her statements, as to the cause of her quitting England, was forgotten ; the impro- ' Speaking of this earl of Norfolk, Drayton, with his minute adherence to fiicts, says, — " And being earl-marshal great upon the coast, With bells and bonfires welcomes her on shore ; ' t , . ^. I J t , j And by his office gathering up an host, Showed the great spleen that he to Edward bore." ' Tliese particulars are preserved in the Peerage for England, 3 vols. iVll, published by E. Sanger, Post-office ; and Collins, at the Black-boy, Fleet-street. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 513 prieties of her conduct, which had excited the disgust of her own countrymen, and caused the king, her brother, to expel her with contempt from his dominions, were regarded a« the base calumnies of the Despencers. The facts that she came attended by her paramour, an outlawed traitor, and at the head of a band of foreign mercenaries, to raise the standard of revolt against her husband and sovereign, having abused her inateinal influence over the mind of the youthful heir of England to draw him into a parricidal rebellion, excited no feeling of moral or rehgious reprobation in the nation. Every Plantagenet in England espoused her cause ; but it is to be observed, that the king's younger brothers by the half blood, Thomas of Brotherton and the earl of Kent, were Isabella's first cousins, being the sons of her aunt Marguerite of France, and that Henry of Lancaster was her uncle. The connexion of these princes with the blood-royal of France had ever led them to make common cause with queen Isabella. By them and by their party she was always treated as if she were a person of more importance than the king her husband. When the alarming intelligence of the landing of the queen's armament reached the king, he was paralysed, and, instead of taking measures for defence, he immediately wrote pathetic letters to the pope and the king of France, entreating their succour or interference. He then issued a proclamation, proscribing the persons of all those who had taken arms against himj with the exception of queen Isabella, the prince her son, and his brother the earl of Kent. It is dated ^Jopt. 28, 1326 : in it he offers a thousand pounds for the L^ad of the arch-traitor, Roger Mortimer. The queen, who had traversed England with great celerity, at the head of an increasing army, immediately pubhshed a reward of double that sum for the head of the younger Despencer, in her manifesto from Wallingford, wherein she set forth that her motives in coming are to deliver the kingdom from the mis- leaders of the king.* The next attack on the king was from the pulpit at Oxford, where Adam Orleton, bishop of Hereford, having called the ' Fopfl^rn. VOL. I. >l I 1: i"'lif; L L 514 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. h ' 1 University together, in the presence of the queen, the princo of Wales, Roger Mortimer, and their followers, preached a sermon fipom the following text : " My head, my head achetli," ( 2 Kings iv. 19,) in which, after explaining the queen's motive for appearing in arms, he with unpricstly ferocity concluded with this observation : " When the head of a king. dom becometh sick and diseased, it must of necessity be taken otf, without useless attempts to administer any other remedy."' The dehvery of this murderous doctrine, in the presence of the wife and son of the devoted sovereign, ought to have filled every bosom with horror and indignation ; but such is the blindness of party rage, that its only effect was to increase the madness of the people against their unhappy king. That misjudging prince, after committing the custody of the Tower and the care of his second son, John of Eltham, to the young lady Despencer, his niece, and the guardianship of the city of London to the faithful Stapleton, bishop of Exeter, Ifet't the metropolis, attended by the two Despencers, the eai'ls of Arundel and Hereford, his chancellor, Baldock bishop of Norwich, and a few others of his adherents, and fled to Bristol, with the intent of taking refuge in Ireland.' The departure of the king was the signal for a general rising of the Lon- doners, in which the bishop of Exeter immediately fell a sacrifice to the fury of the partisans of the queen and Mor- timer. The head of that honest prelate was cut off, and presented to the queen at Gloucester, as an acceptable offer- ing. " Six weeks afterwards," says Thynne, " the queen, foi^tting all discourtesies, did (hke a woman desirous to show that his death happened without her liking, and also that she reverenced his calling) command his corpse to be removed from the place of its first dishonourable interment imder a heap of rubbish, and caused it to be buried in his own cathedral.'" The lad/ Despencer, intimidated by tliis murder, surrendered the Tower to the mob, who proclaimed prince John the custos of the city, and in the queen's name liberated the prisoners in all the gaols. • De la Moor. ' 'WalsinghuTn. De la Moor. 3 Thynne's MS. Livea of the Lord Treasurers ; collection of sir T. Phillipps. I queen, the princo lowers, preached a , my head acheth," inhig the queen's unpricstly ferocity ;he head of a king. ' necessity be taken ay other remedy."' in the presence of jught to have filled ; but such is the was to increase the lappy king. That stody of the Tower ham, to the young tiship of tlie city of of Exeter, Ifeft the icers, the eaids of Baldock bishop of and fled to Bristol, l." The departure rising of the Lon- ramediately fell a e queen and Mor- was cut off, and acceptable offer- nne, "the queen, oman desirous to liking, and also his corpse to be Durable interment buried in his own 3d by tliis murder, proclaimed prince 8 name liberated De la Moor. of sir T. Pliillipps. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 51S " The queen and all her company," says Froissart, "the lords of Plainault and their suite, took the shortest road for Bristol, and in every town through which they passed were entertained with every mark of distinction. Their forces augmented daily until they arrived at Bristol, which they besieged. The king and the younger Hugh Despencer shut themselves up in the castle : old sir Hugh and the earl of Arundel remained in the town, but these the citizens delivered up soon after to the queen, who entered Bristol, accompanied by sir John Hainault, with all her barons, knights, and squii*es. Sir Hugh Despencer, the elder, and the earl of Arundel, were surrendered to the queen, that she might do what she pleased with them. The children of the queen were also brought to her, — John of Eltham and her two daughters. As she had not seen them for a long time, this gave her great joy. The king and the younger Despencer, shut up in the castle, were much grieved at what passed, seeing the whole country turned to' the queen's party. The queen then ordered old sir Hugh and the earl of Arimdel to be brought before her son and the barons assembled, and told them ' that she should see that law and justice were executed on them, according to their deeds.' Sir Hugh replied, * Ah ! madam ; God grant us an upright judge and a just sentence ! and that if we cannot find it in this world, we may find it in another.' " He was instantly con- demned to suft'er a traitor's death, and although he was ninety years old, was hanged in his armour, just as he was taken from the queen's presence, within sight of the king and his son, who were in the castle. " Intimidated by this execution," continues Froissart, " they endeavoured to escape to the Welsh shore in a hoiit which they had behind the castle; but after tossing about some days, and striving in vain against the contrary winds, which drove them repeatedly back witliin a mile of the castle from whence they were trying to escape, sir Hugh Beaumont, observing the efforts of this unfortunate bark, rowed out with a strong force in his barge, to see who was in it. The king's exliausted boatmen were soon overtaken, and the consequence was, that the royal fugitive and his hapless favourite were brought back to Bristol, L L 2 pif i' 516 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Bnd delivered to the queen as licr prisoners." According to other historians, Edward fled to Wales, and took refuge among the monks of Neath; but his retreat was betrayed by Hir Thomas Blunt, the steward of his household. The queen and all the army set out for London. Sir Thomas Woger, the marshal of the queen's army, caused hir Hugh Despencer to be fastened on the poorest and HmulK^Ht liorse ho could find, clotluv. with a tabard such as he wm accustomed to wear, that is, with his arms, and the arms of Clare of Gloucester ^n right of his wife, emblazoned on liig surcoat^ or dress of state. Thus was he led in derision, in the suite of the queen, through all the towns they passed : he vim aimounced by trumpets and cjinbals, by way of greater mockery, till they reached Hereford, where she and her followers were joyfully and respectfully received, and where the feast of All Saints was celebrated by them with great solemnity. The unfortunate Hugh Despencer would eat no food from the moment he wos taken prisoner, and becoming very faint, Isabella had him tried at Hereford, lest he should die before he reached London. Being nearly insensible when brought to trial, his diabolical persecutors had him crowned with net- tles ;' but he gave few signs of life. His miseries were ended by a death, accompanied with too many circumstances of horror and cruelty to be more than alluded to here. He was executed at Hereford, in the stronghold of the power of Mortimer: the queen was present at his execution." Tlie earl of Arundel, and two gentlemen named Daniel and Micheldene, were beheaded previously at Hereford, to gratify the vindictive feelings of Mortimer, who cherished an especial animosity against them. Baldock, the chancellor, though protected by his priestly vocation, as bishop of Norwich, from the axe and the halter, derived little benefit from his ckujjy, since he was consigned to tlie tender mercies of Adam Orleton, through whose contrivance he was attacked by the London mob with such sanguinary fury, that he died of the injuries he received on Ins way to Newgate.' i i , i - ,. , • Chronicle in Leland, written by sir W. I'jickiiigton, trcisurer to Kdwiird tlie Black Prince. ^ Mididet'g Hiat of France. ' WuL i 11 (*' 520 ISABELLA OF FRANCE « I : ufi -!^ having made a party on the Thames in a returned fagot- barge^ and of buying cabbages of the gardeners on the banks of the river, to make his soup, — ^a harmless frolic/ which might have increased the popularity of a greater sovereign. Edward ^^i\B, however, too much addicted to the pleasures of the table, and is said to have given way to habits of intem- perance. From an old French MS., we find that he paid Jack of St. Alban, his painter, for dancing on the table be- fore him, and making him laugh excessively.'' Another per- son he rewarded for diverting him by his droll fasliion of tumbling off his horse. The worst charge of aU is, that l»e was wont to play at chuck-farthing, or tossing up farthings for heads and tails ; a very unkingly diversion, certainly, and sufficient to disgust the warlike peers who had been accus- tomed to rally round the victorious banner of the mighty father of this grown-up baby. Adversity appears to have had a hallowing influence on the character of Edwart* II.; and the following touching hnes, written by him in Latin during his captivity, sufficiently denote that he was learned, and possessed reflective powers and a poetic imagination: — ' /(mm Graced with fair comeliness. Famed for his learning j Should she withdraw her smiles. Each grace she banishes. Wisdom and wit are flown, ;, And beauty vanishes." * 'As soon as the commissioners returned to London with the regalia, and signified the abdication of the late sovereign to the queen and the parliament, the prince of Wales was publicly proclaimed king on the 20th of January, 1327, and Walter archbishop of Canterbury preached a sermon in Westminster-abbey, preparatory to the coronation, taking for his text, not any verse from Scripture, but the words, Vox pjpuli V03C Dei. The queen judged it prudent to detain her Bwom champion, sir John de Ilainault, and as many of his ' De la Moor. Walsingham. Polydore Vergil. ., I ';:'■•] 2 J. P. Andi-ews ; Collections fW)m the Chronicles. ' •' Supposed to mean Mortimer. * llicsc lines are translntewing influence on wing touching lines, iptivity, sufficiently i reflective powers fair comelineaa, his learning ; ithdraw her smiles, ) she banishes, wit are flown, vanishes." * London with the late sovereign to 2e of Wales was muary, 1327, and ed a sermon in nation, taking for the words. Vox ent to detain her d as many of his "•gil. I, •onicles. e original I^atiii, pnv O ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 521 stout Flemings as he could induce to remain in her service, till after the cororvl of the young king, who had completed his fifteenth year i the preceding November. He received knighthood from the sword of his cousin, the earl of Lan- caster, assisted by sir John Hahiault, on this occasion. " There was, at this time," says Froissart, " a great number of countesses and noble ladies attendant on the queen Isabella. The queen gave leave to many of her household to return to their country-seats, except a few nobles whom she kept with her as her council. She expressly ordered them to come back at Christmas, to a great court which she proposed to hold. When Christmas came she held her court ; it was very fully attended by all the nobles and prelates of the realm, as well as by the principal officers of the great cities and towns. The young king Edward, since so fortunate in arms, was crowned with the royal diadem in Westminster on Christmas- day, 1326.*' The most remarkable feature at this coronation was the hypocritical demeanour of the queen-mother Isa- bella, who, thoiigh she had been the principal cause of her husband's deposition, affected to weep during the whole of the ceremony.' .: Sir John de Hainault and his followers were much feasted, and had many rich jewels given them at the coronation. He remained during these grand feasts, to the great satisfaction of the lords and ladies wlio were there, until Twelfth-day. Then the king, by the advice of the queen, gave him an annuity of four hundred mai'ks, to be held by him in fee, payable in the city of Bruges; and to the countess of Gareimes, and sdme other ladies who had accompanied the queen Isabella to England, king Edward III. gave mfiiiy rich jewels, on their taking leave. With a view of increasing the unpopularity of her unhappy lord, Isabella wrote to the pope on the last day of February, 1327, requesting hira to canonize the beheaded earl of Lancaster, her uncle, whose virtues she p-eatly extolled.'^ The parliament, immediately after the coronation, appointed * Planche's Hist, of Coronations. « Brady's Hist., p. 138, and Appendix, No. 64, 60. Rapin, 397. 51 if liil ifii Si- M 622 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. a council of regency for the guardianship of the youthful sovereign and the realm, consisting of twelve bishops and peers. Among these were the king's two uncles, Thomas of Brotherton, earl-marshal, and Edmund of Woodstock, earl of Kent, and the iwchbishops of Canterbury and York, &c. &c. The earl of Lancaster was appointed the president. The queen made no remonstrance against this arrangement ; but, having military power in her own hands, she seized tlie government, and made Roger Mortimer (whom she had caused her son to create earl of March) her prime-muiister, and Adam Orleton her principal comiscUor.' This precious trio managed the aflfairs of the kingdom between them. Isabella, who had liitherto made profession of the most dis- interested regai'd for the public good in all her actions, and had been hailed as a liberator and friend of the people, now threw off the mask, and, with the sanction of a pai'Jiament composed of her creatures, appropriated to herself two-thirds of the revenues of the cro^vn. She also took occasion of an incursion of the Scots to recall the foreign troops under the command of her vowed champion, sir John of Hainault, to strengthen her authority, under pretence of assisting in the defence of the realm. The anival of these mercenaries, how- ever, was any tiling but agreeable to the Londoners. " The queen,^' says Froissart, " held a great court on Trinity- Sunday, at the house of the Black Friars ; but she and her son were lodged in the city, where each kept their lodgings separate, — the young king with his knights, and the queen with her ladies, whose numbers were very considerable. At tliis court the king had five hundred knights, and dubbed fifteen new ones. The queen gave her entertainment in the dormitory, whereat least sixty ladies, whom she had invited to entertain sir John de Hainault and his suite, sat down to the table. There might be seen a numerous nobility, Avell served with plenty of strange dishes, so disguised that it could not be known what they were. There Avere also ladies most superbly dressed, who were expecting with impatience the hour of the ball, but they expected in vain. Soon after dinner the guests were * WaMngham. Dc la Moor. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 523 suddenly alarmed by a furious fray, which commenced among the EngUsh archers and the grooms of the Hainault knights, who lodged with them in the suburbs. The Hainault knights, their masters, who were at the queen's banquet, hearing the bruit of the affray, rushed to their quarters. Those that could not enter them were exposed to great danger, for the archers, to the number of three thousand, shot both at masters and grooms." This fray effectually broke up Isabella's mag- nificent Sunday ball at Blackfriars. Meantime the deposed sovereign Edward II. continued to imte from his prison the most passionate letters of entreaty to Isabella to be permitted to see her and their son. He was encouraged, perhaps, by the presents which (according to Walsingham) she occasionally sent liim, of fine apparel, hnen, and other trifling articles, accompanied by deceitfiil messages, expressing sohcitude for his health and comforts, and lament- ing that she was not permitted by the parliament to visit him;* nothing was, however, further from the heart of Isabella than feehngs of tenderness or compassion for her hapless lord. The moment she learned that her uncle, Henry of Lsmcaster, had relented from his long-cherished animosity against his fallen sovereign, and was beginning to treat him with kindness and respect, she removed him from Kenilworth, and gave him into the charge of the brutal ruffians, sir John Maltravers and sir Thomas Gumey, who had hearts to plan and hands to execute any crime for which their agency might be required : ' " ' " Such tools the Tempter never needs To do the savogest of deeds." By this pair the royal victim was conducted, under a strong guard, first to Corfe-castle, and then to Bristol, where public sympathy operated so far in his favour, that a project was formed by the citizens for his dehverance. When this was discovered, the associate-traitors, Gumey and Maltravers, hurried him to Berkeley-castle, which was destined to be his last resting-place. On the road thither he was treated in the most barbarous manner by his mifeeling gusu-ds, who took fiend-hke dehght in augmenting his misery, by depriving him * Walsingham. De la Moor. Kapin, Speed. It' m ii![ ^i^m IP! If i'iiil. i sm V in f 524 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. II' »,'. I'ln.'j of sleep, compelling him to ride in thin clothing in the chilly April nights, and crowning him with hay, in mockery.' According to De la Moor, the queen's mandate for the murder of her royal husband, was conveyed in that memorable Latin distich from the subtle pen of Adam Orleton, the niaster- fiend of her cabinet ; it is capable, by the alteration of a conmia, of being read with two directly opposite meanings :— i1m. I' ^, ( " Edwiirdum occulere nolitc timore, bonuin est. Edwardum occidero nolite, tiniere bonura est." * ' Edward to kill fear not, the deed is good. ' ' ^ ' 1 ' < i ! • . Edward kill not, to fear the deed is good.' Maurice de Berkeley, the lord of the ciistle, on the first arrival of the unhappy Edward, had treated him with so much courtesy pjid respect, that he was not only denied access to him, but deprived of all power in his own house. On the night of the 22nd of September, 1327, exactly a twelvemonth after the return of the queen to England, the murd^i* of her unfortunate husband was perpetrated, with circumstances of the greatest horror. No outward marks of >'iolence were perceptible on his person, when the body was exposed to public view, but the rigid and distorted lines of the face bore evidence of the agonies he had imdergone, and it is reported • De la Moor adds, with {jveat indignation, that they made him sliave in the open field, bringing hlni cold muddy water in an old helmet, from a sttipiant ditch, for that purjxxse. On wliich the unfortimato Eilwai-d passionately obwrvod, in allusion to the bitter tears which overflowed his cheeks at this wanton cruplty, " In spite of yon, T shall Iw shaveil with warm water." The excelli'iice of Edward's constitution disappointing the systematic attempts of the queen's merciless agents, either to kill him with sorrow, or by broken rest, hupropcr diet, and unwholesome air, they applied to Mortimer lor fresh ordei*s, it Ixiiiu well known that the whole Iwxly of the Fi-iars-pi-cjichers wert^ lalwnrhig. not only for his deliverance, but his restoration to royal power. The influence of this fraternity wa.s calculated to awaken the sympathies of cvei-y village in England in favour of their de]x)sed soveivign, whose patience and meekness under his aftlictions and iwrsecntions had aln>ady pleaded his cause in every heart not wholly dead to the tender impulses oi" compassion. It is 8upi)ost'd the sudden idea of shaving the king, originated in the fear of his being recognised by his l)arti8ans on his jonniey. * A modern biographer of this prelate, with some degree of plausibility, endeavours to lu'qnit him of this crime, oji the grounds that the equivocal Latin verses, quoted by so many English authors, were composed more than a centurj' l)rior to this era by an archbishop of Strimonium, with reference to Gertrndc queen of Hungary, and also that Orleton was out of the kingdom at the time of Edward II.'s mm-der ; but there is no reason why he should not have altered and adapted the lines for this purvK>se. I i , :~t i ' ' E. ISABELLA OF FRANCB. 525 -ill In- If) clothing in the chilly , in mockery.' I's mandate for the td in that memorable Orleton, the nmster- the alteration of a pposite meanings;— iin est. imcst."2 (kI. od.' ! castle, on the first ;d him with so much nly denied access to iwn house. On tlie :actly a twelvemonth , the mm-d^i* of lier ith circumstances of is of violence were )dy was exposed to nes of the face hore and it is reported py mnde lum shave in tlie holniet, from a sti((;iiinit 'ord i»us8ionatoly tikscivtid, is at this wanton criiolty, or." The excell'.'iice of ittempts of the queen's •y broken rest, iniproiwr for fresh orilei-s, it Ix'iiiji were lal)onring. not only The inttuenoo of tiiis every village in England and meekness uniler Lis amse in every heart not t is 8up|)osed the sudden 8 being recognised by liis degree of plausibility, hat the equivocal Latin sod more than a ccntnr)' th reference to (Jirtrnde kingdom at the time of uld not have altered and T. thiit his cries had l)een heard at a considerable distance from the castle where this barbarous regicide was committed. " Many a one woke/' adds the narrator, " and prayed to God for the harmless soul which that night was departing in torture."* The traditions of that neighbourhood affirm that Edward II. had always expressed a wish that his mortal remains should i-epose in Gloucester cathedral, to which he had been a great benefactor ; but Isabella, dreading the sympathy of the people being excited by the spectacle of their murdered sovereign's liineral, caused it to be privately intimated to all whom she suspected of loyal affection for his memory, that she would take deadly vengeance on any one who should presume to assist in removing his body from Berkeley. For some days the terror of the vindictive queen and her paramour, Mor- timer, (who was certainly a very powerful magnate in that part of England,) so prevailed, that neither baron nor knight durst offer to bring the dead king to his burial. At last the abbot of Gloucester boldly entered the blood-stained halls of Berkeley with uplifted crosier, followed by his brethien, and throwing a pall, emblazoned with his own arms and those of the church, over the bier, bade his people, " In the name of God and St. Peter, take up their dead lord, and bear him to his burial m the church to which he had givai so many pious gifts;" and so commenced the Dirige, no one venturing to interrupt, much less to withstand, the churchmen in perform- ing the offices for the dead. Thus the courageous abbot triumphantly achieved his undertaking of conveying the body of his royal patron to Gloucester cathedral, where it was exposed to public view j after which he solemnized the obsequies, and raised a stately monument to his memory. The marvellous- ness of vulgar superstition embellishes the tale with the romantic addition, that as the abbot was denied horses at Berkeley-castle to draw the heai'sc, he summoned to his assistance four wild harts from the forest, and by them it was conveyed to the cathedral. This legend is generally related ' These were the words of De la Moor, the faithful and aftectionate servant of Edward II., who did justice to his master's memory in his pathetic Latin chronicle. Edward III. afterwards raised a tomb with a fine effigy to his father's memory. ■! !;■:!« m :!t 4 iilii ■'■w ^:il!i| ■"ill' m i ni :i'l 526 ISABELLA or FRANCE. to account for the figures of these animals, with which the royal shrine is decorated ; hut as they were the cognizance of the abbot, their introduction is designed to perpetuate the memory of his covering the bier with his own pall, to place it under the protection of the church. Nor was this all our shrewd-witted abbot did; for by the easy test of miracles performed at king Edward's tomb, he effected a complete reaction of public opinion in regard to the character of that unfortunate prince, and invested him with the posthumous honours of martyrdom, — and thus the first blow was stniek at the popularity of Isabella. This was fighting her with her own weapons, too, for she and her paity had succeeded in raising the indignation of the people against the king, hy setting up the earl of Lancaster for a saint and martyr, through the fraudulent evidence of the miracles which they pretended had been wrought at his tomb. The fame of king Edward's miracles threw those of his former adversary quite into the shade, and proved not only a powerful political device, but a source of wonderful prosperity to the monks of Gloucester) for so great was the influx of pilgrims who repaired from all parts of England to oft'er up gifts and prayers at the royal tomb, that for a season it became a more fashionable place of devotional resort than either the shrines of St. Thomas k-Becket or Our Lady of Walsingham.' The public indignation, in that part of the country, was so greatly excited against the infamous instruments of the queen and Mortimer, that they were fain to make their escape beyond seas, to avoid the vengeance of the people.^ Isabella endeavoured, by the marriage festivities of her son and his young queen, to dissipate the general gloom which the suspicious ' Gloucester cathedral is said to have l)ecn indebted for its north aisle and transept, and many other details of elaborate richness, to the sudden tide of wealth which was thus brouglit into the ecclesiiustical treasury by this ingenious piece of loyal pricstn which . volations like these were calculated to produce in tin; mind ol thi' youthfid monarch towards his guilty mother, o; used him to meet her with unwonted coldness, for she appears to have taken the alarm, and endeavoured to strengthen her cause by secretly soliciting th( aiM>ort of the most powerful members of her own party. .^ m u^ the unsortcd documents in the Tower, a letter has lutely boen discovered, addressed by Isabella to the earl of .i reford, lord high-constable of England, and nephew to her murdered lord, the late king, entreating hun to attend the narliament about to meet at Nottingham, to which he had aU-eady been summoned in the name of the king, her son. This letter is familiar and confidential, and it is wortlr of observation, that she complains of "trouble of heart," jitid appears to dread an approaching crisis : — "I8ABEII.A, QUBMT-DOWAOEH, TO HER NepHBW, THE EaKL OF HeBEFOBB* "MOBT DBAB AKD BKIOVBD NEPHEW, " We have well understood what you have sent us word by your letters, and as to our state we give you to know that we are even in ffreat trouble of heart; but considering the condition wo arc in, we were in good health of body at the getting lorth of this letter, which the Iiord over grant to you. " Dearest nephew, we pray you that you will leave off all excuses, and come to the king our son in the best manner you can, and as ho commands you more My by his letten. For you well know, dearest nephew, if you come not, con- sidering the necessity that now exists, it will be greatly talked of, and will be a great dishonour to you ; wherefore make an effort to come at this time an hastily as you can, and you know, dearest nephew, that we shall ever be ready to counsel you as well as we can, in all things that shall be to youv honomr and profit. " Most dear and beloved nephew, our Lord have you in his keeping ! Given at Nottingham, the 1 0th day of October." Endorsed, — " To f^me to the King." A fortnight after the date of this letter, the parliament met at Nottingham. The insolent bearing of the queen-mother's paramour, Mortimer, at this period, is thus quaintly described by the chronicler from whom Stowe has taken his curious nar^ ' Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies, by M. A. E. Wood, vol. i. p. 64, (Unsortcd Towcr-le^ters : Frpnch=) yi. u % ,t 1 1 vl ■111:' ,iiA ;i tl k i: '"\ \ 532 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. ;r 7 I I 11'.' "If It 1 n rative of the events of one of the most di'amatic passages in English history: "There was a parhament, where Roger Mortimer was in such glory and honour, that it was without all comparison: no man durst name him other than earl of March, and a greater rout of men waited at his heels than on the king's person. He would suffer the king to rise to him ; and would walk with him equally, step by step, and cheek by cheek, never preferring the king, but would go fore- most himself with his officers. He greatly rebuked the eail of Lancaster, cousin to the king, for that without his consent he appointed certain noblemen to lodgings in the town, asking, * Who made him so bold, to take up his lodgings close to the queen?' With which words the constable, being greatly feared, [alarmed,] appointed lodgings for the earl of Lancaster a full mile out of the town, where was lodged John Bohun, the earl of Hereford, lord high-constable of England; by which means a great contention rose among the noblemen and the common people, who called Roger Mortimer 'the queen's paragon and the king's master, who destroys the king's blood, and usurps the regal majesty.' " ' King Edward had designed to occupy Nottingham-castle himself with his train, but the queen-mother forestalled him, by establishing herself there beforehand, under the protection of Mortimer's followers, who constituted a strong military force. Every night she used the precaution of having the keys of the castle brought to her, and, for greater security, placed them under her pillow.' The quarter where Isabella had taken up her abode was the strongest portion of the castle, called ' the old tower,' bmlt on the top of a rock, acces- sible only by a secret subterranean passage from the meadoM's lying below it, through which ran a little rivulet called the Lyne, almost under the castle-rock. At the foot of this rock is a spring called ' Mortimer's well,' and a cavernous passage, still known by the name of ' Mortimer's hole,' through wliich he nightly ascended to the chamber of the queen-mother,' ' Walsingham, Knighton. Carte. • The locality of the scene is very quaintly described by the celebrated Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson, in her auto-biography, p. 235. " I}(>hind Nottinghain-castle," she says, " is a truck called the park, which contains no deer, nor even a tree, n? ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 533 ramatic passages in lent, where Roger that it was without n other than earl '■aited at his heels Fer the king to rise '•, step by step, and but would go fore- ly rebuked the eail wdthout his consent in the town, asking, dgings close to the ible, being greatly le earl of Lancaster dged John Bohun, e of England; by g the noblemen and rtimer 'the queen's ys the king's blood, Nottingham-castle ler forestalled him, ader the protection a strong military ion of having the ir greater security, er where Isabella st portion of the )p of a rock, acces- rom the meadoMS rivulet called the e foot of this rock avemous passage, e,' through which lie queen-mother,* by tho celebrated Mrs, id Nottingham -castle," 0 deer, nor even a tree. who aflFected to pay a flimsy homage to public opinion, by sleeping in a part of the castle which had no apparent com- munication with his lodgings. Their noctiuual meetings were, however, more than suspected ; and one of the king's trusty friends, sir William Montague, by application to Robert de Holland, the seneschal of the castle, to whom all secret comers of the same were known, obtained a clue, whereby their royal master and his companions would be able to follow the same track King Edward considered that it would be a favourable time to strike a decisive blow for the \4ndication of his honour, and the establishment of his lawful authority, by the arrest of his mother's favourite, when the barons of England, to whom he was a greater source of oflfence than either Gaveston or Despencer, were a&sembled for their duty in parliament. " On a certain night," pm^ues Stowe's authority, " the king and his friends were brought by torchlight through a secret way underground, beginning far from that castle, till they came even to the queen's chamber, which they by chance found open ; they, being armed with naked swords in their hands, went forward, leaving the king armed without the chamber-door, lest his mother should espy him. They entered in, slew sir Hugh Turpington, who resisted them, and to John Neville they gave a deadly wound. From thence they went to the queen-mother, whom they found with the earl of March, just ready to go to bed; and, having seized the said earl, they led him into the hall, the queen foDowing, crying out, * Bel filz, ayez piiie de gentil Mortimer !' for she knew her son was there, though she saw him not. She likewise entreated Montague and his people ' to do no harm to the person of Mortimer, because he was a worthy knight, her dear friend and well-beloved cousin.' No reply was made to her inter- cession, and Mortimer was hurried away, the castle locked on the queen, and all her effects sealed up. The next morning Roger Mortimer and his friends were led prisoners towards London. As soon as they appeared, the populace of Notting- excepting one growing' directly under the castle, which was a prodigy ; for, from the root to the top, there was not one straight twig in it. The tradition went, that King Richard III. planted it with his own hands, and that the tree resem* bled him in its growth." |l ,x !||i; 634 ISABELLA OF FliANCE. 'A \ V 4 . HI I , i ; M 1 ham and the nobles of the king's party set up a tremendous shoutj the earl of Lancaster who was at that time blind, joining in the outcry, and making violent gesticulations for joy. On his arrival in London, Mortimer was for a few hours com- mitted to the Tower, previous to his summary execution/" This great culprit was arraigned in the king's presence before the peers, and after the indictment which contained a hst of his misdemeanours was read, by the king's command every one was asked, says Froissart, " by way of counsel, what sentence shoidd be awarded. Judgment was soon given ; for each had perfect knowledge of the facts, from good report and information. They replied to the king's question, that he ought to suffer the same death as sir Hugh Despencer the younger, which sentence had neither delay nor mercy. This was instantly carried into effect, without waiting to hear what the accused had to say in his own vindication." Mortimer was the first person executed at Tyburn, which wae r \, known by the name of the Elms. His body hung on the gallows there two days and nights, by the especial order of the king; it was then taken down and bmied in the Grey Friars' church, mthin Newgate, of which queen Isabella was a benefactress.^ Sir Simon Burford and sir John Deverel, who were taken at the* same time with Mortimer in the queen's ante-chamber at Nottingham-castle, were executed with him. They earnestly desired to disclose the particulars of the late king's murder, but were not permitted to do so, lest their disclosures should implicate the queen too deeply. Isabella was spared the ignominy of a public trial through the intercession of the pope, John XXIL, who wrote to the young king, exhorting him not to expose his mother's shame.' After this, Edward attributed all her crimes to the evil in- fluence of Mortimer, as may be seen in the royal declaration to parliament of the reasons which induced him to inflict the punishment of death on that great state-criminal. In the ' Stovve's Clironicle. ' Knighton. Do la Moor. Walsingham. Stowe. There is a precept in the Foedera, permitting the wife and son of Mortimer to bury his body at Wigmorej but, according to Weever, the transfer was not made till the next century. • Raynold, iv. 413, quoted by Dr. Lingard, vol. iv. p. 14. .i,,.^ '4 3et up a tremendous at that time blind, gesticulations for joy. or a few hours com- oaary execution."' the king's presence int which contained the king's command vay of counsel, what was soon given ; for rom good report and 8 question, that he lugh Despencer the ly nor mercy. This ivaiting to hear what ication.'' Mortimer m, which was ; , body hung on the le especial order of buried in the Grey L queen Isabella was [ sir John Deverel, I Mortimer in the I, were executed with le particulars of the to do so, lest their deeply. jublic trial through who wrote to the lis mother's sharae.^ nes to the evil in- le royal declaration d him to inflict the -criminal. In the There is a precept in the ry his body at Wigniore j 1 the next century, rol. iv. p. l4i. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 533 ninth article of this posthumous arraignment it is set forth that, — " The said Roger falsely and maUciously sowed discord between the father of our lord the king and the queen his companion, making her beUeve that if she came near her hus- band he would poignard her, or murder her in some other manner. Wherefore, by this cause, and by other subtleties, the said queen remained absent from her said lord, to ' the great dishonour of the king and of the said queen his mother, and great damage, perhaps, of the whole nation hereafter, which God avert/ "* One of the first acts of the emancipated monarch, after the gallant achievement by which he had rendered himself master of his own reahn, was to strip the queen-mother of the un- conscionable dower to which she had helped herself, and to reduce her income to 1000/. a-year.^ It was also judged expedient by his council to confine her to one of the royal fortresses at some distance from the metropohs, lest by her intriguing disposition she should excite fresh troubles in the realm. " The king soon after, by the advice of his council, ordered his mother to be confined in a goodly castle, and gave her plenty of ladies to wait upon her, as weU as knights and squires of honour.^ He made her a handsome allowance, to keep and maintain the state to which she had been accus- tomed,* but forbade her ever to go out or show herself abroad, except at certain times, and when any shows were exhibited in the court of the castle."" Castle-Rising, in Norfolk, was the place where queen Isabella * 4 Edward III., anno 1330; Par, Rolls, p. 53. * Knighton. Walsingham. ^ Froissart. * In the year 1332, Edward declares that his mother has simply and spon» taneously given into his hands all the castles and estates which formed her dower ; in return, he has assigned his mother divers other lands and castles of the value of 2000/. per annum : these are chiefly in North Wales, and the castle of Haver- ford, with its island, mill, and appurtenance, in South Wales ; the rest of the grants are mere annuities payable from various royal demesnes. — Caley's Fcedera, p. 835. * We have here an allusion to the customs of those times when travelling shows were the only theatrictal exhibition in v&e, and much encouraged by the magnates of the land. The courts of royal and baronial castles were built with galleries round them, for the convenience of the family witnessing these attractive spectacles : the principal hostels were built in a similar maimer, for the same purpose. ■4 i "■■■■ ' '■! ' ' ' * \ ■ II 536 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. m i: n , ' i . Ill t j !i i ' ! f ii ff was destined to spend the long years of her widowhood. It was part of her own demesnes, having been lately surrendered to her by the widowed lady of the last baron of Montalt. This stately pile was built, in 1176, by WiUiam Albini, hus- band to queen Adelicia, on a bold eminence surrounded by a high bank and deep vallum, hke Norwich-castle. The walls were three yards thick ; the keep was a large square tower, encompassed with a deep ditch and bold rampart, on which was a strong wall with three towers. Enough remains to show that Castle-Rising must have been almost an impreg- nable fortress.' Froissart says "the queen passed her time there meekly ;" by which our readers are to understand, that she neither devised plots nor treasons against the government of her illustrious son, Edward III., nor gave further cause for public scandal. To sir John de Mohns was committed the office of steward of her household, an appointment which must have been pecuharly distasteful to the captive queen, since this knight was the first person who seized Mortimer in Nottingham-castle, and was rewarded, in consequence, with this post in her establishment.' More than one ancient historian hints that, during her long confinement, Isabella was afflicted with occasional fits of derangement.* It is asserted that these aberrations com- menced in a violent access of madness, which seized her wliile the body of Mortimer hung on the gaUows. Her agonies were so severe, that, among the common people, the report prevailed for some months that she died at the time the body ' It now belongs to the hon. Mrs. Greville Howard, one of the descendants of the great Albini, the original founder. The remains of this castle, so noted for its historical reminiscences, have been, by the fine taste of the hon. colonel Howard, partly restored : the principtd staircase has been repaired, and two rooms rcnderttl habitable. In the com-se of the excavations, a Saxon church has been disinterred in a perfect state of preservation. The keep of Castle-Rising is still used for oourts-leet, which meet within the great hall. * Peerage of England, vol. ii. p. 283. ' Sir Winston Churchill mentions this tradition as a fact ; Moreri hints at it. These reports are somewhat strengthened by the extravagant salary paid to her family physician at Rising-Castle. In the Fcedcra is a deed securing " 100?. ptr annum to master Pontio de Courtronc, late physician to king Edward II., and now to the queen-mother, Isabella ; the bailifls of Norwich are enjoined to pay him bOl. at Easter and at Michaelmas, a^ long as he lives, for his great services to the queen-mother.'' The document is dated 1233. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 537 was taken down. These traditions lead us to conclude that for many months the populace did not know what had become of her. Her retired life, unconnected with conventual vows, must have strengthened the reports of her derangement, which was attributed to the horrors of conscience. She was in her six-and-thirtieth year when her seclusion at Castle-Rising commenced. The king her son generally, when in England, visited her twice or thrice a-year,' and never permitted any one to name her in his presence otherwise than with the greatest respect. It is to be observed that Edward's council, in regard to the petitions of certain individuals for the recovery of money due to them during her government, are by him referred to the advice of queen Isabella. Her name is care- fully guarded from all reproach in the rolls of parliament, which, nevertheless, abound in disputes relative to her regency. A petition from the poor lieges of the forest of Macclesfield to king Edward declares, that " Madame, his mother, holds the forest as her heritage ; and yet the bailiff of Macclesfield kills her venison, and destroys her wood." Isabella is not named as queen, but only as madame the king's mother : the king replies, " Let this petition be shown to the queen, that her advice may be learned thereon." During the two first years of Isabella's residence at Castle- Rising, her seclusion appears most rigorous ; but, in 1332, from various notations, the fact may be gathered that her con- dition was amehorated. That year king Edward declared,* "That, as his dearest mother had simply and spontaneously surrendered her dower into his hands, he has assigned her divers other castles and lands to the amount of 2000/." The same year this dower was settled, she was permitted to make a pilgrimage to the Lady shrine of Walsingham, not far from her residence in Norfolk. This is evidenced from the ancient Latin records of the corporation of Lynn,^ which is in the neighbourhood of Castle-Rising. There is an entry of 20s. for bread sent to Isabella, queen-dowager, when she came ' Froissart. ^ Caley's Fcedera, 835. ' We have been favoured with these extracts by the hon. Mrs. Greville Howard j they are of historical importance, since they set at rest all doubts regarding the fact of Isabella's residence at Castle- Rising. .'■' : i' :^i7 > ! 538 ISABELLA OF FBANCE. ■I i ' ' *P ■y.'t ■« M' from Walsingham ; also 4^. for a cask of wine, 3/. 18* 6rf. for a piece of wax, and 21. for barley j also 3s. for the car- riage of these purchases. King Edward restored to his mother two years afterwards, the revenues of Ponthieu and Men- trieul, which were originally the gift of her murdered lord. '^hf^ same year, 1334, her son John of Eltham died in the bloom of life, and her daughter Eleanora wa« married to the duke of Gueldres. The records of Lynn contain the follow, ing notice, dated 1334 : " The queen Isabella sent her precept to the mayor to provide her eight carpenters, to make prepa- rations for the king's visit." In 1337, Edward III. again made some stay at Castle-Rising with his mother, and Adam de Riffham, of Lynn, sent him a present of wine on this occasion. Once only have we evidence that Isabella visited the metropolis : this was in the twelfth year of her son's reign, when she is witness to the delivery of the great seal in its purse by king Edward to Robert de Biu*ghersh, in the grand chamber of the bishop of Winchester's palace in Southwark. ParUament granted to Edward III. an aid of 30,000 sacks of wool ; and by a writ, dated Feb. 27, 1343, the barons of the Exchequer were forbidden to levy any part from the lands and manors of the queen-mother, " because it was unreason- able that a person exempt and not summoned to parliament should be burthened with aids granted by parliament."' The same year Isabella received another visit from the king her son : on this occasion the Lynn records note that 11/. 13s. lOrf. was expended for meat sent to " our lady queen Isabella." There is an item of 41. 16*. Id. paid by the corporation for a present sent to the household of our lord the king at Thorn- denes, at his first coming to Rising, and 3c?. for a horse sent by a messenger to Rising. The corporation, also, is ansMer- able for I2d. given to William of Lakenham, the falcon-bearer at Rising ; 4s. 3d. given to the messengers and minstrels of queen Isabella ; 2*. 8c?. for wine sent to the queen's maid ; and 12c?., a largess for the earl of Suffolk's minstrels. Barrelled 8tiu*geon was a favourite food at the queen's tuble, and it was certainly very costly M'hen compared witli the price of other ' New Foedera, vol. ii. p. 835. ' 1 I ISABELLA OF FRANCE. B39 viands. The corporation of Lynn, the same year, sent gifts of a pipe of wine and a barrel of sturgeon, costing together 9/. 12». 9d., to their lady queen Isabella; and, moreover, paid John, the butcher, money for conveying the said gifts to Castle-Rising. They sent to her treasurer and seneschal gifts of wine that cost 40c?., and presented 12*. to John de Wynd- sore and other men of the king's family when at Rising, besides 2d. given to a servant looking for strayed horses from the castle ; likewise 406?. given to the steward of Rising, when he came to obtain horses for the use of king Edward. A barrel of sturgeon cost as much as 21. 15s. : the men of Lynn note that they paid 11/. for four barrels sent at different times as gifts to the queen at Castle-Rising, and 20s. for two quarter-barrels of sturgeon sent by her servant Perote. The supply of herrings, as gifts from the men of Lynn, amounted to 6/., and they sent her 103 quarters of wax, at a cost of 4/. 16*. Id. In the eighteenth year of his reign, king Edward dates several letters to the pope from Castle-Rising. A curious plan for the annoyance of king Edward was devised in the year 1348 by the French monarch, who pro- posed to make the queen-dowager of France and Isabella the mediators of a peace. They were to meet between Calais and Boulogne; but Edward was too wise to fall into the snare of attracting public attention to the guilty and degraded mother from whom his claims to the tlirone of France were derived. Isabella was not suffered to take any part in the negotiation. : the succeeding documents prove that the treaty was completed by the dulce of Lancaster and the count of Eu.' King Edward granted, in the thirty-first year of his reign, safe-conduct to William de Leith to wait on queen Isabella at her castle of Rising, he coming from Scotland, probably with news from her daughter, queen Joanna, who was then very sick. This person was physician to the queen of Scotland.^ Isabella died at Castle-Rising, August 22nd, 1358, aged ' Caley's Foedera. Philip's letters are in French, Edward's replies are in Latin. ^ Blomfield's Norfolk. Public Acts. Walsingham. Stowe's London. Pen- imnt. The Foedera implies " that William dc Leith was employed to request queen Isabella to act as mediatrix with khig Edward, regarding the ransom of David king of Scotland." I i K" ,"ii ill i- y >'.•' 540 ISABELLA. OF PRANCE. h Ik. I ^ , sixty-three. She chose the church of the Grey Friars, where the mangled remains of her paramour Mortimer had been buried eight-and-twenty years previously, for the place of her interment ; and, carrying her chttracteristic hypocrisy even to the grave, she was buried with the heart of her murdered husband on her breast. King Edward issued a precept to the sheriifs of London and Middlesex, November 20th, to cleanse the streets from dirt and all impurities, and to gravel Bishops- gate-street and Aldgate, against the coming of the body of his dearest mother, queen Isabella; and directs the officers of his exchequer to disburse 9/. for that purpose. Isabella was interred in the choir of the Grey Friars', within Newgate, where a fine alabaster tomb was erected to her memory. She had given 62/. towards the building of this church. It was usual for persons buried in the Grey Friars' to be wrapped in the garment of the order, as a security against the attacks of the foul fiend. Queen Isabella was buried in that garment, and few stood more in need of such protection. It is a tra- ditional circiunstance, that she assumed the conventual garb at Castle-Rising. Perhaps Isabella, in the decline of life, had been admitted into the third order of St. Francis, instituted about twenty years before her death for lay-penitents who were not bound by conventual vows. That she made some pretence to piety may be inferred from the following list of her rehcs, for which Edward III. gave a receipt " to his be- loved chaplain Edmmid de Rammersby on behalf of his mother, the first year of her imprisonment : Two ciystal vases, con- taining minute bones, reUcs of the holy Innocents ; one silver flask, containing reUcs of St. Sylvester ; part of the side of St. Lawrence, enclosed in silver j and a joint of John the Bap- tist's httle finger.'" According to Blomfield, local tradition asserts that queen Isabella hes buried in Castle-Rising church, and that all the procession to the Grey Friars' in London was but an empty pageant. In confirmation of this assertion they point out a simple grey stone, with this inscription deeply cut, — ISABELLA REGINA. Cale/s Foedera, p. 825. ISABELLA OP PRANCE. 541 Grey Friars, where VIortinier had been for the place of her ic hypocrisy even to rt of her murdered ued a precept to the ber 20th, to cleanse d to gravel Bishops- ling of the body of directs the officers ; purpose. Isabella is', within Newgate, o her memory. She his church. It was its' to be wrapped in »ainst the attacks of ied in that garment, ection. It is a tra- the conventual garb he decline of life, had . Francis, instituted )r lay-penitents who That she made some le following hst of receipt "to his be- behalf of his mother, o ciystal vases, con- nnocents ; one silver »art of the side of St. t of John the Bap- a asserts that queen •ch, and that all the was but an empty ion they point out a 3eply cut,— Antiquaries, however, are of opinion thnt this stone covers th^ grave of one of the officers or ladies who died in her service at Castle-Rising ; but it is also possible that she might have bequeathed her heart to her parish church, and that this inscription may denote the spot where it was interred. An effigy of Isabella is to be seen, in perfect preservation, among the statuettes which adorn the tomb of her son John of Eltham, at Westminster-abbey. The fashion, which pre- v.-'iled for about half a century, of surrounding tombs with effigies of the kindred of the deceased, has preserved the resemblances of two of our queens. It were vain to seek the portraits of Isabella and her aunt Marguerite elsewhere than on the monument of him, who was at the same time the younger brother of Edward III., son of queen Isabella, and great-nephew to Marguerite of France. Isabella's statuette ve identify by means of the conventual veil she assumed, as a sign of her penitence, during her seclusion in Castle-Rising ; likewise she stands at the left hand of the well-known effigy of her murdered lord Edward II., whose beautiful little statue is a miniature of that, the size of life, on his splendid mo- nument in Gloucester cathedral. John of Eltham's tomb- statuettes are wonderful works of art ; they are carved out of the puiest and finest alabaster, although five centuries of London atmosphere have dyed them of the hue of jet. Some great artist has designed them, for the ease of the attitudes, the flow of the draperies, the individuality of the features, are beyond all praise. The side of the tomb opposite to St. Edward's chapel being protected by a strongly carved oaken screen, they are as perfect as when they issued from the hands of the sculptor. Fortunately, on this side are arranged the English relatives of prince John; on the other, which was occupied by his French ancestors, the work of destruction has been nearly completed by the depredators who formerly devastated the abbey. Isabella's cast of features, though pretty, is decidedly Moorish, a circumstance easily accounted for by her Navarrese descent. She greatly resembles her mother, the sovereign-queen of Navarre, whose fine statue ■ still presides over the gothic gateway of the principal college I-' /). •(^ ^ 1;;;; 542 ISABELLA OP FKANCE. 'if' ; at Paris, which was her munificent foundation.* Isabella has a small crown at the top of the conventual hood ; her widow's costume is much more rigid than that of the virtuous widow of Edward I., — her aunt Marguerite. Partaking of the foims of the convent-cowl and veil, she wears the widow's barb high on her chin : she holds a sceptre in her right hand. But little of her low forehead is visible ; in the original her mouth has a laughing expression, strangely at variance with her garb of woe, and with the tragic deeds that marked her career. IsabeUa's virtuous daughter, Joanna queen of Scotland, the faithful and devoted consort of the unfortunate David Bruce, survived her mother only a few days, and was interred in the church of the Grey Friars, within Newgate." Some authors assert that on the same day London witnessed the solemn pageant of the entrance of the funeral procession of the two queens,— one from the eastern, and the othei' from the northern road; and that, entering the church by opposite doors, the royal biers met at the high altar. After a sepa- ration of thirty years, the evil mother and the holy daughter were imited in the same burial rite.^ * Montfauoon's Monumens, &c., vol. iii., gives two diBtinct portnuts of Isabella's mother. Any visitor of Paris may see her 8tftl\:'» at I'Ecole Polytechnique. ' Speed. Stowe's Annals. On the site of C'lrist-Church school. ' Stowe's Annals. The Chronicles and the FoHlera are at variance on this head. Simon archbishop of Canterbury names queen Joanna among the serene ladies who graced the wedding of the Bliick Prince, in 1360. — Foedera, vol. vil. rf" iB I'll tf ,.#* E. ' • ; fttion.* Isabella has J hood ; her widow's ' the virtuous widow irtaking of the fonns le widow's barb high p right hand. But B original her raoutli Lriance with her garb arked her career, leen of Scotland, the tunate David Bruce, 1 was interred in the ate.'' Some authora itnessed the solemn irocessicn of the two bhe otlioi- from the church by opposite Edtar. After a sepa- id the holy daughter jstinct portraits of IsabcUa'i Ecole Poljrtechnique. lurch school. ra are at variance on this Joanna among the screno 1360.— Foedera, vol vii. ■f- •■. V VI ^ l--iPs. i:' j ii . I ^» , r:A ^^/ "//y^/^/^^/^ -v/'.. '''/^//.Ay////^^ .'V / •.■■ ■..oMdoii^ lli-nrv I'oli.irn, IR.'^l . :^-| PiliLUTA Ol H \l\.\i M;. '}vyv.s op Ki)^^ ^k; ir . .it^swlmiiHt iii l.- \*\ . Y(» k^'i' *>},,'.'i'»i at If. Vi". i' ■ i .lev blt)ijaiinjij i'cuu!Y f><'W.i. »!«•«> -j .i'ltiug^, .f'ii(i:<,j i i, •-:>••» i;: • ijiKvn flourisMt- 5.im Her i).n(iaif*- T. m-r: ii,;nt- -luu;;; ■ w •• v ilin»t >.: .vur- - -t^iuvM b.'ijr!,. -M .'tif ^ _ -r.w u- v.|UOf« » •■rimn- - :ipji.rR ri«iiUn!cc iu tin'* i«r^-' Ex'''- .1 j.n' >■ Luir,.] \>ti''.f''- ^ w !J«>r ,i>^,n? J*^ !v'^*. ; . -^ «.- t happy union ol Uic ill: ♦jtvu" . -^^i.^jf^' ^ '^ ' '• - iifiWDcd Utrd Imr! tx'fn j^v .,.k}4} f>w.*fr,;i"i? •> U'<:tv» ; . rij. K). !.*'!' <{UCCU ''!*')'. pHuco Efluaivi lu' 'v rcf'n.'M. v. ibv;lb> at the court, uf Uiiir^»-.'v -'^Vnjt V. litun^ of ,'in:iu{t had at tiuir, time Ibvtr unnurr.ti r-^," ■ -.v^ I'voi^Mirt ; :h.'sa were Margaret.* Fhu'^j^i, J'>\i>\w>, aiid l,r.ni'< I. 1 ii.- 'i:n;: pnnoey- diirinir Ms lU'rth^'r's icf ku-tu':' in 'fd: »re !W«H and sitftution to Hulipj. n thiu> i ^u*. ..f f ■-!» iils<:> nvcrst'd w-itjv iufH isiurf trf''?;^' .'s'. i Hi.',. ' JU '. S';: ;;■' "■'*» „ i li !■■. ;' ;i^:;^=^ ■m:. Hi ' ' ' I I i i J ! !■ ". f ' ■ f i >- I 5 S !. ; ' 4 ;.? :.F .^^ ■*"•' *■-»■* ^ 1 ... --* ,:,'''^|'. %.t ( t ■■\ PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, QUEEN OP EDWARD III. CHAPTER I. Previous attachment of Edward III. and Pliilippa — His sojourn at her father's court — Her blooming beauty — Demanded in marriiige — Philippa arrives in London — Reception — Philippa travels to York — Married there — Her dower — Coronation — Claim on her shoes, bed, and silver basins — Birth of her eldest son — Queen nourishes him — Her portraits — Tournament — Dangerous accident —King's fury — Queen's intercession — Philippa's woollen manufacturers — Scotch war — Queen besieged in Bamborougli-castle — Birth of the princess- royal — Of the princess Joanna — Of William of Hatfield — Death of this prince —Death of the queen's father — Poverty of the king — Pawns queen's crown — Philippa's residence in Flanders — Birth of prince Lionel — Queen's visit to Norwich — King's naval victory — Queen's fourth son — King Edward's challenge —Pacification by the queen's mother — Extreme poverty of Pidward and Philippa — Their secret departure from Ghent — Embark with their infant — Land at the Tower — King's anger — Countess of Salisbury — Order of the Garter — Philippa assists at the first chapter — Residence at Woodstock. The happy union of the illustrious Philippa with her thrice- renowned lord had been previously cemented by mutual pre- I fereace, manifested in the first sweet spring-time of existence, when prince Edward took refuge with his mother, queen Isabella, at the court of Hainault. " Coimt WiUiam of Hainault had at that time four daughters," says Froissart; "these were Margaret, Philippa, Joanna, and Isabel. The young prince, during his mother^s residence in Hainault, paid more court and attention to Philippa than to any of the others, svho also conversed with him more frequently, and sought :' I ij' i: ms '■jilt, ■lii;. 1! \ ■4 ■4 '?•' 544 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. ^i.;l.;h , his company oftener, than any of her sisters." This Avas in 1326, when prince Edward was in his fifteenth year, and the lady Phihppa a few months younger. She was tall in stature and adorned with the briUiant complexion for which the women of her country are celebrated. A poet of her time has commemorated " her roseate hue and beauty bright ;" and it can weU be imagined that, with- out any claims to regularity of features, her early bloom was beautiful. The youthfiil lovers, after residing together in the palace of the count of Hainault at Valenciennes for about a fortnight, were separated. Edward embarked, with his mother and John of Hainault, on the dangerous expedition of invading his unfortunate father's kingdom, while his beloved was left in a state of uncertainty whether the exigencies of the state and the caprice of relatives would ultimately permit to be joined the hands of those, whose hearts had. aheady elected each other. ' Although a decided affection subsisted between young Edward and Philippa, it was not considered in accordance with the royal etiquette of that era for the heir of England to acknowledge that he had disposed of his heart without the consent of the parhament and council. Queen Isabella under- took the arrangement of this afiair, and soon led the pubhc authorities to the decision that a daughter of the count of Hainault would be the most desirable alliance for her son; but even as late as the fifth of August, 1327, the particular daughter of that family was not pointed out in the document requesting the dispensation of the pope ; the words are, " to marry a daughter of that nobleman, WiUiam coimt of Hainault, Holland, and Zealand, and lord of Friesland," but the name of Philippa is not once mentioned throughout the letter. Thus the lovers remained seven months after the coro- nation of Edward in a state of suspense.' The council at last gravely decided that Adam Orleton,'^ the notorious bishop of I * The name of Philippa is not mentioned till the last instrument from Avignon was executed, dated Sept. 3, 1327. — Foedera, vol. iv. ^ Hist. Bishops of Winchester, vol i. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 545 ope ; the words are, ast instrument from Avigiion Hereford, should visit the court of Hainault, and choose, among the daughters of the count, the young lady who seemed most worthy to be the queen of England. As the choice of the bishop and king fell on Plulippa, the young king had certainly informed Adam Orleton, in confidence, which princess among the fair sisterhood was the elected lady of his heart. The proceedings of the bishop are thus narrated by our last rhyming chronicler, Hardyng :' — ** He sent forth then to H^nault, for a wife, A bishop and other lords temporal. Among them-*e^« our lords, for high prudence. Of tlie bishop asked coimsel and sentence, • Which daughter of the five should be our queen ?' Who counseU'd thus with sad avisement,^ * We will have her with fairest form, I wene.* To which they all accorded with one mind. And chose Philippe that was full feminine, As the wise bishop did determine. But then among them-selfs they laughed aye; Those lords then said, ' Their bishop judged ftill sooth The beauty of a lady.' " ' " Shortly after the young king Edward completed his six- teenth year,*' says Froissart, " his council sent a bishop, two knights-banneret, and two able clerks, to sir John of Hainault, to beg of him to assist the young king of England in his suit to one of his nieces, since the young king would love her more dearly than any other lady on his account. Sir John feasted and paid many honours to these messengers. He took them to Valenciennes, where his brother the count of ' Hardyng was a Lincolnshire man, a chronicler and an antiquary, brought up in the family of the earl of Northumberland, so famous in the deposition of Richard II. In liis youth he acted as secretary to his lord, and was present at the battle of Shrewsbury. He is, therefore, nearly a contemporary, and, as such, his authority is great. His age must have been extreme, as he lived through the whole of the reigns of the house of Lancaster j was pensioned by Henry VI. in 201. per annum, and finally presented his complete history to Edward IV. : he must then have been more than ninety. He mentions five daughters of Hainault : the eldest, Sybella, who had been contracted to Edward III. in his infancy was dead at this time. ' Serious consideration. ' Tliis passage, among many others, will prove that personal beauty was con- sidered by our ancestors as a most desirable qualification in a queen-consort. For this reason, these biographies are compelled by truth to dwell on the personal advantages possessed by our queens. The queens of England, down to Katharine of AiTiigon, seem, with few exceptions, to have been the finest women of their time. fv %: VOL. I. N N ifV \0» 546 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. ' ' n i I ,!' ' ft ' Hainault gave them such sumptuous entertainment as would be tiresome to relate. He most willingly complied with their requests, if the pope and holy church had no objection. Two of the knights and some able clerks were despatched to Avig. non ; for without the pope's dispensation it could not be done, on accoimt of their near relationship, for their two mothers were cousins-german. As soon as they came to Avignon, the pope and college consented most benignantly. On their retmTi to Valenciennes, immediate preparations were made for the dress and equipage of a lady who was considered worthy to be the queen of England.'' The king, then at Nottingham, empowered the bishop of Lichiield and Coventry,' on the 8th of October, 1337, to con- clude his marriage with the noble damsel, Philippa of Hainault. He likewise charges " his beloved Bartholomew de Burghersh, constable of Dover, to receive and welcome into his kingdom that noble person William count of Hainault, with the illus- trious damsel Philippa, his daughter, and the familiars of the said count and damsel; and he charges all and singular his nobility and people of the counties through which the count, damsel, and famihars may pass, to do them honour, and give them needful aid."^ It was necessary for the lady PhHippa and her escort to travel across England to meet the royal bridegroom, who was then performing his warhke noviciate on the Scottish border, under the auspices of his mother and Mortimer, against the great Robert Bruce. Phihppa was married at Valenciennes by procuration, soon after the date of this instrument. She embarked for England at Wisant, landed at Dover with all her suite, and arrived in London December 23, 1327, with a retinue and display of magnificence in accordance with the great wealth of her coimtry. She was escorted by her uncle, John of Hainault, * Foedera, vol. iv. Adam Orleton, who began the negotiation, had not the honour of finishing the treaty. He had at this time fallen into disgrace with Isalitillii and Mortimer, for accepting the rich bishopric of Winchester without the consent of the crown, and pertinaciously refiising to pay a bribe high enough to satisfy the rapacity of the queen-mother. The astute priest considered she was too much in his power to need such consideration. — See preceding biography. " Dated at Clipstowe. Foedera, vol. iv. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 547 negotiation, had not the fallen into disgrace with Lc of Winchester without pay a bribe high enough ate priest considered she See preceding biography. and not by her father, as wa* expected. A solemn proces- sion of the clergy introduced her into the city, and she was presented by the lord mayor and aldermen of London with a service of plate worth 300/., as a marriage gift, — a benefaction prompted, most hkely, by the gratitude of the citizens for a treaty of commerce established between England and the Low Countries in the preceding summer, when these nuptials were first pubhcly agitated. The king was still with his army in the north, York being his head-quarters ; and though London was in an uproarious state of rejoicing at the arrival of the young queen, she set out immediately to meet her lord. But there were feastings and sumptuous entertainments in London for three weeks after her landing. Phihppa passed New-year's day at the abbey of Peter- borough. She was escorted on her northern journey by the cousin-german of the king, John Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex, and lord high-constable. An alarming riot oc- curred at the abbey owing to the tyranny of Hereford, who, when Philippa was about to depart, seized by violence on a little child, Godfrey de la Marck, under the protection of the abbot of Peterborough, and, claiming him as the son of one of his vassals, carried him off in the royal cortege} No other adventures of the queen's bridal progress are recorded : the dismal season and bad roads made it tedious. The royal marriage did not take place until January the 24th, 1337-8, when the hands of Edward and PhUippa were united at York minster. The magnificence of the espousals was heightened by the grand entry of a hundred of the principal nobility of Scotland, who had arrived in order to conclude a lasting peace with England, cemented by the marriage of the king's httle sister, Joanna. The parhament and royal council were likewise convened at York, and the flower of the English nobility, then in arms, were assembled round the young king and his bride. The royal pair kept Easter at York, and after ' Bishop Patrick's Hist, of Peterborough, p. 41. This orphan's legitimacy was disputed by hib sisters, and the abbot, deeming his life in danger, gave him sanctuary until the trial was decided. Edward III. made his cousin restore the child to his place of refnge ; the cause of young CiOilu'ey was gained, and the abbot married him to a neighbouring knight's daughter. N N 2 Urn I is -j: Wi '■: :l';f;: :i,5 1,1 V W'-W ■,^' i.'l 548 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. fi. ^1 ••^ the final peace with Scotland they returned southward from Lincoln to Northampton, and finally settled, in June, at the beautiful summer palace of Woodstock, wliich seems the prin- cipal abidmg-place of Philippa while her young husband was yet under the tutelage of Mortimer and the queen-mother. A dead silence is kept in all the pubhc documents regard- ing the amoimt of Philippa's portion, — for reasons good, since the queen-mother had already spent it. As for the usual dower of the queens of England, the whole of its lands were possessed by the queen-mother ; but by a deed, executed at Northampton,' May 5th, "the king," says the venerable father, Roger bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, " had pro- mised that 15,000/. per annum of lands should be settled on her." Queenborough was part of the yomig queen's dower j the Saxon kings had a strong castle there called Kyngborough, on a rising ground commanding a fine view over the Thames. Edward III. pulled down the ruins, and began a palace for his queen, meant to facihtate their frequent visits to her native country : he changed the name of the place to Queenborough, in compliment to her. Philippa's palace in the Isle of Sheppey was not finished till near the close of her life. Nothing re- mains of it now, excepting a few crumbling walls just above the soil, some indi(!ations of the donjon, mount, and an old well.'' Isabella provided so well for herself and her daughter- in-law, that she left her son, the sovereign of England, nearly penniless. After assisting at the marriage of his niece, sir John of Hainault returned to his native coimtry. laden with jewels and rich presents. Few of the Hainaulters who had escorted her to England stayed with queen Philippa ; but among those who remained was a youth, named sir Wantelet de Mauny,^ whose office was to carve for her. The coronation of the young queen did not take place till more than two years after her marriage. The king, from his palace at Eltham, issued a summons, dated the 28th of Februaiy, 1330, *' for his beloved ' Focdera, vol. iv. ' It was completely destroyed by Cromwell. ' Froissart. This attendant of queen Philippa is sir Walter Mamiy, so cele* ^ ['■ ^ i d southward from 1, in June, at the ;h seems the prin- mng husband was I queen-mother, documents regard- reasons good, since As for the usual J of its lands were deed, executed at ays the venerable rentry, "had pro- lould be settled on ng queen's dower ; illed Kyngborough, r over the Thames, >egan a palace for ; visits to her native 3 to Queenborough, |;he Isle of Sheppey ife. Nothing re- g walls just above mount, and an old and her daughter- reign of England, niece, sir John of laden with jewels who had escorted but among those tntelet de Mauny,^ coronation of the lan two years after ,t Eltham, issued a '' for his beloved istroyed by Cromwell. Walter Mauny, so cele- PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 549 and faithful Bartholomew de Burghersh to appear with his barons of the Cmque-ports, to do their customary duties at the coronation of his dearest queen, Philippa, wluch takes place, if God be propitious, the Sunday next to the feast of St. Peter, in the cathedral of Westminster.*^ ' It took place on that day with no particular splendour, for the rapacity of Isabella and Mortimer had absorbed all the funds provided to support the dignity of the crown But the period of their sway drew near its close : the young hon of England had already manifested signs of disdain at the ignoble restraint in which he was held. ParUament was summoned that spring at Woodstock, whither Philippa ami her royal lord had retired after the coronation. A singular document * is dated from thence the succeeding April, in which the king informs his treasurer, " that his faithful and beloved Robert de Vere, being earl of Oxford, was hereditary chamberlain to the queens of England; at all coronations the ancestors of the earl had officiated in the same capacity, and that in consequence he claimed the bed in which the queen haa slept, her shoes, and three silver basins, — one in which she washed her head,' and two others in which she washed her hands. And the king desires that the earl may freely receive the basms and the shoes ; but as for the bed, the treasurer is to pay the earl-chamberlain a hundred marks as a compensation for his claim thereon.'* "V^Tiile the young king was yet tmder the dominion of his unworthy mother, his consort Philippa gave birth to hei first- bom, afterwards the celebrated hero Edward, sumamed the Black Prince. He first saw the hght at the palace of Woodstock, June 15, 1330. The great beauty of this infant, his size, and the firm texture of his limbs, filled every one with admiration who saw him. Like that renowned queen-regent of France, Blanche of Castile, mother of St. Louis, Phihppa chose to nourish her babe at her own bosom. It is well known that the portraits of the lovely young Philippa and her princely boy formed the favourite models for the Virgin and Child at that era. » Edward III. Patent Bolls, 1361. " Foedera, vol. iv. p. 426. - * Face ' would be more iikeiy, but the actual word is capitis. iijii ..;fi«!: : ■ I'l C 1 i ■ wf V I. ! ^Kl k* d/ ' I 550 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. Si 4 itV In order to celebrate the birth of the heir of England, a grand tournament was proclaimed at London. Philippa and all the female nobility were invited to be present. Thirteen knights were engaged on each side, and the tomnament was held in Cheapside, between Wood-street and Queen-street: the highway was covered with sand to prevent the horses' feet from slipping, and a grand temporary tower was erected, made of boarding, filled with seats for the accommodation of the c|ueen and her ladies. But scarcely had this fair company entered the tower, when the scaffolding suddenly gave way, and all present fell to the ground with the queen. Though no one was injured, all were terribly firightened, and great confusion ensued. When the young king saw the peril of his wife, he flew into a tempest of rage, and vowed that the care- less carpenters who had constructed the building should in- stantly be put to death. Whether he would thus far have stretched the prerogative of an English sovereign can never be known, for his angelic partner, scarcely recovered from the terror of her fall, threw herself on her knees before the in- censed king, and so effectually pleaded for the pardon of the poor men, that Edward became pacified, and forgave them. In the decline of the year 1330, Edward III. shook off the restraints imposed upon him by his unworthy mother and her ferocious paramour. He executed justice on the great criminal Mortimer in the summary and hasty way in which he was always inchned to act when under the impulse of passion, and at a distance from his queen. No one can wonder that he was impatient to destroy the murderer of his father and of his uncle. Still this eagerness to execute sudden vengeance under the influence of rage, whether justly or unjustly excited, is a trait in the character of this mighty sovereign which appears in his youth, and which it is necessary to point out in order to develope the beautiful and nearly perfect character of liis queen. No sooner were the reins of government in the hands of the young king, than he vigorously exerted himself for the reformation of the abuses for which the administration of Mortimer was infamous : many excellent laws were made, and Srt'*J'M ^PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 061 others revived, to the great satisfaction of the English people. But, above all tilings, the king had the wisdom to provide a profitable occupation for the active energies of his people. " Blessed be the memon^ of king Edward III. and Pliilippa of Hainault, his queen, who first invented clothes," says a monastic chronicler. Star^ not, gentle reader ; the English wore clothes before the time of this excellent queen. The grateful monk, by this invocation, merely means to imply that, by her advice, the Enghsh first manufactured cloth.^ Philippa, young as she was, well remembered the sources of prosperity which enriched her own country. She estabUshed a manufacturing colony at Norwich in the year 1335 ; but the first steps towards tliis good work were commenced so early as the 3rd of July, 1331, within a few months of the assumption of power by the youthful king. A letter so dated, from Lincoln, is addressed to John Kempe of Flanders, cloth-weaver in wool, in which he is informed, " That if he wiU come to England with the servants and apprentices of hiiJ mystery, and with his goods and chattels, and with any dyers and fullers who may be inclined wiUingly to accompany him beyond seas, and exercise their mysteries in the kingdom of England, they shall have letters of protection, and assistance in their settlement." " Philippa occasionally visited Kempe and the rest of her colony in Norwich. Nor did she disdain to blend all the magnificence of chivalry with htr patronage of the productive arts. Like a beneficent queen of the hive, she cherished and protected the working bees. At a period of her hfe, which * A more coherent notice of this great benefit to England is given by Fuller, who defines the difierence between a pastoral and a manufacturing land in his usual impressive though quaint style. " The king, having married Philippa the daughter of the earl of Hainault, began now to grow sensible of the great gain the Netherlands gat by our English wool, in memory whereof the duke of Burgundy, a century after, instituted the order of the Golden Fleece, wherein indeed the fleece was ours, but the gold theirs, so vast was their emolument by the trade of clothing. Our king therefore resolved, if possible, to reduce the trade to his own countrymen, '.vho as yet were ignorant, as knowing no more what to do with their wool than the sheep that bore it." * Foedcra. Probably the name of John Kempe is derived from comb, (that instrument being used in his employment,) and means ' John of the Comb,' as the old English of the verb • to comb * is to kempe. Kempe was the patriarch of the Norwich woollen manufactures. 4 II, ' ^ (if- '^1 II' ■.! «■ fr' I t >' I ■l-i' 'ifei 552 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. in common characters is considered girlhood, she had ennchcd one 0^ the cities of her realm by her statistic wisdom. There was wisdom hkewise in the grand tournaments she held at Norwich, which miglit be considered as exhibitions showing the citizens how well, in time of need, they could be protected by a gallant nobility. These festivals displayed the defensive class and the productive class in admirable union and beneficial intercourse, while the example of the queen promoted mutud respect between them. Edward III. did not often take part in these visits to Norwich, which were generally paid by the queen while her husband spent some days with his guilty and miserable mother at Castle-Rising, in Norfolk ;' a strong proof that he did not consider hei a fit companion for Philippa. The house in which his queen usually sojourned was long pointed out by the grateful inhabitants of Norwich : its site is not forgotten at the present day. As the most interesting comment on the lasting benefits conferred by the illustrious consort of the third Edward on Norwich, when she assisted its inhabitants to compete with her countrATnen in the manufactures from which she knew the wealth and importance of those princely merchants were derived, we take leave to subjoin the testimony of a gentle- man" who contributes in no slight degree to the prosperity of the metropolis of onr eastern counties, and whose school of design has carried the fine arts in wool and silk to a degree of perfection wliich no foreign loom can surpass. The dearly purchased laurels of Cressy and Poictiers have faded to the mere abstract memory of the mihtary prowess of the victorious * Soe the preceding biography. ' The following letter from Mr. Blakeley, in answer to onr inqnirJes regarding the building called in Norwich • queen Philippa's house,' will justify, in tlie most practical manner, the praises we have bestowed on tliat queen, and afford information respecting it. " The citizens of Norwich are especially indebted to the good queen Philippa for her condescension in introducing and promoting manufactures, which for five centuries have ftu-nished wealth and employment to a large portion of its inhabittmts. Should you ever honour us with a visit, Mrs, Blakeley will be gratified in conducting you to the spot (now occupied by a relative) where that queen is stated to have resided during her visits. The garden walls bear the marks of great age, but the house is certainly of more modern date." We think queen Philippa would be astonished if it were possible for her to see the exquisite texture, colours, and i)attems of some of the Norwich shawls and dresses that have becu recently produced at Blakeley's maiiufactorieii. r. d, slie had enriched tic wisdom. Tliere ments she lield at exhibitions showing ' could be protected hiyed the defensive mion and beneficiul n promoted mutual not often take part neraUy paid by the with his guilty and )lk ;' a strong proof mion for Philippa. )joumed was long S^orwich : its site is he lasting benefits 3 third Edward on 8 to compete with ivhich she knew the y merchants were mony of a gentlc- 0 the prosperity of id whose school of silk to a degree of lass. The dearly lavc faded to the ss of the victorious our inquiries regarding ise/ will justify, in the n that queen, and afford re especially indebtetl to reducing and promoting alth and employment to )ur UB with a visit, Mrs. pot (now oecupied by a luring her visits. The ise is certainly of more lished if it were possible of some of the Norwich llakeley's manufactories. PHILIPPA OF IIAINAULT. 553 Edward and his son, regarding which no national benefit re- mains; but the fruits of Philippa's statistic practical wisdom coii- timie to provide sources of wealth and national prosperity for ge- nerations yet unborn. It is likely that the establishment of the Flemish artists in England had some connexion with the visit that Jeanne of Valois, countess of Hainault, paid to her royal daughter in the autumn of 1331. The mother of Philippa was a wise and good woman, who loved peace and promoted the peaceful arts. During her sojourn in England she further strengthened the beneficial alliance between P^ngland and the Low Coxmtries, by negotiating a marriage between the king's sister, Eleanora, and the duke of Gueldres, which Avas soon after celebrated. Edward III. commenced a furious war on Scotland in 1333. His faithful queen followed his campaign, but while the king laid siege to Berwick, Philippa was in some danger at Bam- borough-castle, where she resided that summer j for Douglas, the valiant guardian of his young king, turned the tables on the English invader, and made a forced march, to lay fierce siege to Bamborough,' hoping that Edward, alarmed at the danger of h.i queen, would reUnquish Berwick and fly to her assistance ; but Edward knew too well the strength of " king Ina's castle broad and high," and the firm mind of his Phihppa, to swerve from his designs on Berwick. Yet the temper of Edward was certainly aggravated into ferocity by the attempt to capture his queen, and he was led by sudden passion into the cruel murder of the two young Seatons. These unfortunate youths were the sons of the governor of Berwick, either given by him as hostages to Edward III., for the performance of certain terms of sur- render, or, what was still worse, were prisoners put to death because their father would not surrender his trust. Either way, the act was atrocious. Perhaps it would have been pre- vented if the just and gracious Philippa had been by the side of her incensed lord; but Phihppti was closely besieged in Baraborough, and her danger exasperated her husband into an act really worse than any performed by his stem grandsire, * Guthrie, folio Hist, m.^'-. II- : .^ 'I, "l '-■ '"i '^m 554) rillLIlTA OF HAINAULT. i i ; -■■ I ■ J ■*! Edward I. The kinp knew tluit tlie Douf^das was no triflor in any work he took in liand ; he therefore resolved, by n desperate blow, to take IJerwick, and mareh to rtjlievt; hi*, qneen from the attaeks of the Scottiwh re^^iint. lie ecrtiiinly gained l^enviek from the stunned and panUysed father, but by the murder of the hapless youths he for eve* stained his chivalric name. Douglas and Edward johied battle not fiir from Berwick soon after, and the Scots were oveii)owercd at the disastrous battle of Halidon-IIill. Edward, with his (picen afterwards triumplumtly entered Berwick, which has over since remained annexed to the English crown.' Edward and Pliilippa were in Engbmd during the winter of 1331-. At the palace of Woodstock, on February the 5tli, the queen brought into the v/orld I'^lizabeth" (likewise called Isabella), the princess-royal. The queen undertook another campaign in the succeeding spring. That year her futher sent king Edward a present of a rich helmet, made of gold and set with precious stones, with a remonstrance against wasting his strength in Scotland, where there was no plunder to be got, \yhen the same expense would prosecute his claims on France. The queen this winter became the mother of a second princess, named Joanna. Philippa followed her lord to a third northern campaign. Her second son, William of Hatfield, was bom in a village in Yorkshire, in the winter of 1336 : this infant lived but a few weeks.' In the absence ' Edward Baliol invadclare tliat, nttcr this conquest, Edward kept his CliriHtnins at Roxhurgh with his ({ueen, but his gt-veniment acts are dated in January at Wallingford. » iuthrie. • The names o( Isalx)lla and Elizabeth were synonymous in the middle ages, to the confusion of history and genealogy. ' The aci-onnts of the fmieral expenses of this inlwnt, who was buried in York cathiHlral, are (-urious features in the wardrobe-book of his father : — " 133(5. Paid for different masm's about llu' body of lord William, son to the king, dweiuttd; likewise for the purchase of tlu-ee hundred and ninety-three pounds of wiut, burnt round the priiuv's corjise at Hatfield, Pontcfi-act, and York, where he wiui buried, and for three cloths of i,'old, diapered, to be placed over the said corpse luid tomb ; also for a hood for the face, and for webs, Hnun, and hearses, Miu-cli 3rd, PIIILIPPA OF IIAINAULT. 655 ymows ill the middle oges, to of Kdward, the Scotch war was prosecuted by his only hrotlier, John earl of (>ornwall, with {^reat cruelty ; this young priuco (lied at Perth, October the 5th, of a wound which he received in his ferocious attack on Lesmahago.' While Philippa resided in the north of England, a circum- gtiiuce occurred which is an amusing instance of monastic etiquette. King Edward had returned from Scotland, and advanced as far as Durham, where he established his lodging in St. Cuthbert's priory, near the castle. The queen travelled from York to meet and welcome him. She supped in the priory, and, thinking it was no offence, retired to pass the night in her husband's apartment. Scarcely had she un- dressed, when the affrighted monks came to the door, and pathetically remonstrated against the infringement of the rules of tlieii* order, intimating " that their holy patron St. Cuthbert, who during his life very sedulously eschewed the company of the fair sex, would be direfully ott'ended if one of them slept beneath the roof of his convent, however high her rank might be." The pious Philippa, distressed at the idea of unwittingly offending St. Cuthbert, immediately rose from the bed in haste, fled in her night-dress to the castle, which was fortunately dose by, and passed the night there by herself.* The gout and other maladies put an end to the existence of count William of Hainault, soon after he had formed a league against France witli king Edward, and with the wealtlvy father of hia queen, iward lost the liberal supplies with ninth year of Edward 111 , 4Zl. 11«. l^d." — " Paid for alms given by the king for the soul of hia son \\ ilU»»n, divided between Hattield and York, masses at rontefract and York, *nd for widows watching round the said corpse, and burial service, 99^. 3». 5^*/ * ' BoethiuB aflSnns that Edward III., enrage i: \ f VOL. I. o o li J"! i^ ''!• » i il r ■9^ , f .1 ^■ . t\ ;-Ki' 1 i , 1 !': I 1 i i M ! i I f i : ; ! i •!»■ 'J i I = I! t 4-, ( -I I L-- 'i 'J ii 662 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. honour and with yours/ The king left her, quite astonislied at her answers." The love of king Edward wandered from queen PhiHppa but for a short time ; yet it was owing to the high principles of Katlv -iue the Fair that he never swerved into the commission of e\il.* Queen Phihppa, attired in the august robes of the new order of the Garter/ and attended by the ladies whom the gallantry of king Edward asaociated with his knights/ assisted her royal lord in holding the first chapter at Windsor, on St. George's-day, 1344. She made her thii'd and last visit to ' Though he appears still to have cherished a chivalric and heroic attachment for the countess, he soon showed that he had resigned what slie very properly told him were " villanou'- thoughts." In proof of this fact we find liim, directly, making a two years' truce with the king of Scotland, one of the conditions of which was, "that kmg David should undertake a negotiation with his ally, the king of France, to exchange the earl of Moray, a prisoner of king Edward, for the earl of Salisbmy," then in captivity in the dismal towers of the Chatelet.— Froissart, vol. i, p. 297. ^ The story that the origin of this order, the order of the Garter, took its rise from an accident that happened to the countess of Salisbury's di-ess when dancing with king Edward III., must be luatrue, since we have seen that the knights of the Blue Garter were confederated by Coeur de Lion long before the countess was born ; therefore the Garter was a part of the order that had been devised many years previously to the era of king Edward. But that the countess of Salisbmy was considered the heroine of the newly revived order, we have the express words of Froissart, as follows : " You have all hoard how passionately king Edwiu-d was smitten with the charms of that noble lady, Katherine countess of Salisbury. Out of affection to the said lady, and his desire to see her, he proclaimed a great feast in August 1343. He commanded all his own lords and knights should be there without fail, and he expressly ordered the carl of Salisbury to bring the lady his \vife, with as many young ladies as she could collect to attend her. The earl very cheerftilly complied with the king's request, for he thought no evil, and liis good laily dared not say nay. She came, however, much againust her will, for she guessetl the reason which made the king so earnest for her attendance, but was afraid to discover it to her husband, intending, by her conduct and conversa- tion, to make the king change his opinion." Froissart likewise adds, " that all the ladies and damsels who assisted at the first convocation of the order of the Garter came superbly dros!-ed, excepting the countess of Salisbury, who atteiidid the festival di-essed as plainly as possible : she did not wish the Icing to admire her, for she had no intention to obey him in any thing evil that might tend to the dishonour of her dear lord." Froissart's repetition of the expression "any thing evil," is certainly in allusion to the mysterious motto of the order ; indeed, the words of this motto ai-e a mere variation of the same words in the French copies of Froissart. ^ For several ages after the institution of the order of the Garter, every knight was accompanied by liis lady, who was considered to belong to it. Sir Harris Nicolas, in his admirable work on the order of the Garter, fully proves that the ladies of the knights wore its badge. Several monuments still exist where it may be seen. Among others, the monumental statue of lady Harcourt, at Stanton- PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 563 Korvvich in the course of the same year, 1344, tradition says, accompanied by her son Edward prince of Wales, who dis- played his early prowess in chivalry by tilting at a tournament proclaimed at his mother's favourite East Anglian city. It is a matter still in dispute by the leai'ned there, whether the queen lodged at the prior's country-house at Trowse-Newton, or at the monastery in the Close. But after her expulsion by the monks of Diu*ham from her lodging in their monastery, it is most likely she resided at the country-house, separately trom her son or husband. She was entertained by the citizens of Norwich at an expense of 37/. 4*. 6^d} Philippa kept the birth-day of her mighty lord with great festivity at Woodstock in the year 1345.'^ Here, in that sylvan palace, where she had spent the first years of her happy wedlock, did she find herself, in middle life, surrounded by a train of beaatiful children, at the head of whom was Edward prince of Wales, then on the eve of winning his vast meed of renown. PhUippa's protege, Chaucer, has in these elegant lines described one lovely feature of the favourite retreat of his royal mistress. He speaks of a maple — " . . . . that is fair and green, Before the chamber windows of the queen At Woodstock." ■;^ Harcourt, displays the order of the Garter, with the celebrated motto on the left arm. She was born a liyron, and married sir Robert Harcourt, elected knight in 1463. The jffigy of the duchess of Suffolk, grand-daughter to Chaucer, at Ewehne church, hna the garter and motto buckled round the left arm, not as an armlet, but as a bracelet. The lady TankervUle, whose statue was lately at St. Katherine's by the Tower, had the same noble badge on her left arm. If the ladies companions of this noble order were restored according to the original institution of Edward III. and Philippa, how much splendour would such im- provement add to the court of om- fair queen ! The Garter-robes of queen Phi- Uppa are charged in the wardrobe accounts. — Exchequer fiolls. ' Blomfield's Norwich. We owe thanks to the learned labours of Richard Hart, esq., who has carefully sifted the evidences relative to this queen's visits to Norwich. ' Walsingham. i% '■^•^fftllit^ GO 2 :il !t ■' ■«< PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, QUEEN OF EDWARD III CHAPTER II. Qucon Philippa left regjiit of Et ^land — Battle of Cressy — Queen's uncles — Siege of CaliUB — Scotch invasion — Queen defends England — Queen's exhortation to the army — Her victory of Neville's-Cross — King David captured — Queen re- turns to London — Sails with many ladies to Calais — Burghers of Calais doomed to death by Edward — Philippa's intercession — Birth of princess Mai-garet— Edward and Philippa return to England — Betrothment of the queen's becond daughter — Death of the princess — King Edward's letters — Queen's younger children — Philippa's tournament at Norwich — Queen's objections to the mar- riage of the Black Prince — Queen receives royal prisoners — Dialogue with Du Guesclin — Queen goes to France — Marriage of the Black Prince — Queen's re- ception of king John at Eltham — Alliances of royal family — Philippa's fatal illness — Death-bed — Tomb — Epitaph — Benefactions — Queen's college, Oxford — Pensions to her women — Alice Perrers — Queen's supposed confession — Vir- tues of queen Philippa. In the first years of her marriage, queen Philippa had been the constant attendant on her husband in his campaigns ; the annals of the year 1346 display her character in a more bril- liant hght, as the sagacious ruler of his kingdom and the victorious leader of liis army. After the order of the Garter had been fully established, king Edward reminded his valiant knights and nobles that, with him, they made a vow to assist distressed ladies; he then specified that the countess de Montfort particularly required the aid of his chivalry, for her lord was held in captivity by Philip de Valois in the towers of the Louvre, while the countess was endeavouring to uphold the cause of her infant son against the whole power of France. He signified his intention of giving his personal PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 665 AULT, y — Queen's uncles — Siege — Queen's exhortation to ,vid captured — Queen re- Jurghcrs of Calais doomed I of princess Mai-garet — int of the queen's BecoiiJ ettcrs — Queen's younger 's objections to the mar- aners — Dialogue with Du lack Prince — Queen's re- 1 family— Philippa's fatal -Queen's college, Oxford lupposed confession — Vir- Philippa had been bis campaigns ; the iter in a more bril. kingdom and the )rder of the Garter jminded his valiant ade a vow to assist ; the countess de f his chivahy, for de Valois in the was endeavouring st the whole power giving his personal support to the heroic countess, and of leaving queen Philippa as regent of England during his absence. On St. John the Baptist's-day the king took leave of queen Philippa, appointing the earl of Kent as her assistant in the government of England. The name of her young son Lionel,* a child of eight years old, was associated with his mother in the regency. Philippa bade farewell to the darling of her heart, her son Edward, then in his sixteenth year. This young hero accompanied his royal sire, in order to win his spurs on the soil of France. The exploits of the heroic boy are weU known ; but it is not quite so well known that he was opposed at the field of Cressy to his mother's nearest connexions,— to her uncle, Philip of Valois, and even to sir John of Hainault, that favourite relative who had ever been treated by the queen as if he were her father. In the true spirit of a mercenary soldier, sir John had left the service of his niece's husband, in whose employment he had spent the best part of his life, merely because the king of France gave him a higher salary ' The first English militaiy despatch ever written was addressed to queen Philippa and her council by Michael Northborough, king Edward's warlike chaplain : it contains a most original and graplic detail of the battle of Cressy. It is dated at the siege before the town of Calais, for the battle of Cressy was but an interlude of that famous siege. It was now Philippa's turn to do battle-royal with a king. As a diversion in favour of France, David of Scotland ad- vanced into England a fortnight after the battle of Cressy, and burned the suburbs of York. At this jnncture Philippa herself hastened to the relief of her northern subjects. Frois- sart has detailed with great spirit the brilliant conduct of the queen at this crisis : " The queen ox England, who was very anxious to defend her kingdom, in order to show she was in earnest about it, came herself to lvewci"'tle-upon-Tyne. She took up her residence there to wait for her forces. On the morrow the king of Scots, with full forty thousand men, advanced within three short miles of the town of Newcastle, [Durham] : he sent to inform the queen that, ' If her men ' This child sat on the throne when parliaments were held. m t 1 ^ B :v r Hi 566 nilLirPA OF IIATNAn.T. l! f ■ \ , .,.4. were willing to come forth from the town, he would wait and grive them battle.* Philippa answered, ' That she accepted his offer, and that her barons would risk their lives for the realm of their lord the king/ " The queen's army drew up in order for battle at Neville's. Cross. Philippa advanced among them mounted on her white charger, and entreated her men to do their duty well in defending the honour of their lord the king, and urged them "for the love of (lod to fight manfully." They promised her " that they would acquit themselves loyally to the utmost of their power, and perhaps better than if the king had been there in person." The queen then took her leave of them, and recommended them " to the protection of God and St. Greorge." There is n*) vulgar personal bravado of the fighting woman in the character of Philippa. Her courage was wholly moral courage, and her feminine feelings of mercy and ten- derness led her, when she had done all that a great queen could do by encouraging her army, to withdraw from the work of carnage, and pray for her invaded kingdom while the battle joined. The Enghsh archers gained the battle, which was fought on the lands of lord Neville.' King David was taken prisoner on his homeward retreat, but not without making the most gallant resistance. " When the queen of England (who had tarried in Newcastle while the battle was fought) heard that her army had won the victory, she mounted on her white palfrey, and went to the battle-field. She was informed on the way that the king of Scots was the prisoner of a squire named John Copeland, who had rode off with him, no one knew whither.^ The queen ordered him to be sought out, and told 'that he had done what was not agreeable to her, * The Saturday before Michaelmas-day, 1346 j fifteen thousand Scots were slain. There is reason to suppose that where Froissart names Newca.stlc, the word should be Durham, since the English army certainly mustered in the bishop's park at Auckland, and Neville's-Cross itself is distant but one mile west of Durham. ^ Knighton says he lodged him in the strong fortress of IJamborough. King David was determined to provoke Copeland to kill him, knowing the miseries his captivity would cause his country. His resistance was terrific ; he dashed his gauntlet on Copeland's mouth when culled on to siuronder, and knocked out several of his teeth. Copeland kept his temper, and succeeded it capturing him alive. PIIILIPrA OF IIAINAULT. 567 ill ctirrying off her prisoner without leave/ All the rest of the (lay the queen and her anuy remained on the battle-field they had won, and then returned to Newcastle for the night." Next day Philippa wrote with her own hand to John Cope- land, commanding him to surrender the king of Scots to her. John answered in a manner most contumacious to the female majesty then swaying the sceptre of England with so much abUity and glory. lie rephed to Philippa, that " He would not give up his royal prisoner to woman or cliild,' but only to his OAvn lord king Edward, for to him he had sworn allegiance, and not to any woman." There spoke the haughty spirit of feudality, which disdained to obey a female regent, although then encamped on a victorious field. The queen was greatly troubled at the obstinacy of this northern squire, and scarcely knew how to depend on the assurance he added, bidding her knight tell the queen " she might depend on his taking good care of king David." In this dilemma, Phihppa wrote letters to the king her husband, which she sent off directly to Calais. In these letters she informed him of the state of his kingdom. The king then ordered John Copeland to come to him at Calais, who, having placed his prisoner in a strong castle in Northumberland, set out, and landed near Calais. When the king of England saw the squire, he took him by the hand, saying, " Ha ! welcome, my squire, who by thy valour hast captured mine adversarj', the king of Scots!" John Cope- land fell on one knee, and replied, " If God, out of his great kindness, has given me the king of Scotland, and permitted me to conquer him in arms, no one ought to be jealous of it ; for God can, if he pleases, send his grace to a poor squire as well as to a great lord. Sire, do not take it amiss if I did not surrender king David to the orders of my lady queen, for I hold my land- of you, and not of her, and my oath is to you, and not to her, unless, indeed, through choice." King Edward answered, " John, the loyal service you have done us, and our esteem for your valoiu* is so great, that it may well serve yon as an excuse, and shame fall on all those who bear you any ill-will. You will now return home, and take your * Philippa wiis associiitcd with the young prince Lionel in the regency. M f' ! n 668 PHILIPPA OP HAINAULT. f > ' '^ ' Hi ' H . I prisoner, the king of Scotland, and convey him to my wife ; and by way of remuneration, I assign lands, as near your house as you can choose them, to the amount of 500/. a-ycar, for you and your heirs."' John Copeland left Calais the third day after his arrival, and returned to England. When ho was come home, he assembled his friends and neighbours, and, in company with them, took the king of Scots and caiTied him to York, where he presented him, in the n le of king Edward, to queen Philippa, and made such excuses that she was satisfied. And great magnanimity PhiUppa displayed in being content with the happy result. How many women would have borne an inextinguishable hatred to John Copeland for a far less offence than refusing obedience to a delegated sceptre ! Philippa lodged David in the Tower of London : he was conducted, by her orders, in grand procession through the streets, mounted on a tall black war-horse, that every one might recognise his person in case of escape. Next day sho sailed for Calais, and landed thi*ee days before All- Saints.' The arrival of Philippa occasioned a stir of gladness in the besieging camp. Her royal lord held a grand court to welcome his victorious queen, and made a magmficent fete for her ladies. Philippa brought with her the flower of the female nobility of England, many ladies being anxious to accompany her to Calais, in order to see fathers, husbands, and brothers, all engaged at this famous siege. "While queen Philippa was encamped with her royal lord before Calais, the young count of Flanders, who had been kept by Edward in his army as a sort of captive, ran away to the king of France, to avoid his marriage engagements with the princess-royal, — a circumstance which caused great grief ./ and indignation to the queen and her family. But the conduct of the young lord of Flanders can scarcely excite wonder ; for Edward III., certainly forgetting son metier du roi, was in a strong league with the count's rebellious subject, the brewer Von Artavelt, who, under pretence of reform, had overturned ' Copeland was likewise made a knight-baimeret : he was afterwards sheriff of Northumberland and warden of Berwick. ' October 29th. '. ; !' i .T. PIlILirPA OF ITATNAULT. 569 3y him to my wife ; lands^ as near your )unt of 500/. a-ycar, ay after his arrival, ras come home, he id, in company with him to York, where Edward, to queen was satisfied. And being content with )uld have home an for a far less offence sceptre ! Phihppa e was conducted, by the streets, mounted might recognise his lailed for Calais, and e anival of Philippa iegiug camp. Her ;ome his victorious er ladies. Philippa nobility of England, y her to Calais, in lers, all engaged at vith her royal lord ers, who had been captive, ran away to ; engagements with caused great grief . But the conduct excite wonder; for ier du roi, was in a subject, the brewer )rm, had overturned ! was afterwards sheriff of " October 29th. tlie government of Flanders,' and delivered up itt. eount to the iiing of England, the states of Flimders having betiv^thcd liiiii to the eldest daugliter of Edward without consiitinf; his inclinations." The young count at last requested an interview with liis betrothed. What passed is not known, but the young couple seemed on tlio most friendly terms with each other ; and the queen, supposing the chiuins of the young Isabella had captivated the unwilling heart of count Louis, with her usual generosity requested he might be left unguarded, fancy- ing he would remain Isabella's willing prisoner. But the escape of the count followed soon after, to the great exasper- ation of Edward III. As Isabella aftenvards made a love- match, the whole scheme had probably been concerted between her and her betrothed, for hfe, in the fourteenth centurj', was an acted romance. Meantime, the brave defenders of Calais were so much reduced by famine as to be forced to capitulate. At rst Edward resolved to put them all to the sword. By the per- suasions of sir Walter Mauny he somewhat relaxed from his bloody intentions. "He bade sir Walttr," says Fro'AJt, " retmn to Calais with the following terms : * Tell the go jmor of Calais that the garrison and inhabitants shall be pardoned, excepting six of the principal citizens, who must surrender themselves to death, with ropes round their necks, bareheaded and barefooted, bringing the keys of the town and castle in their hands.' Sir Walter returned to the brave governor of Calais, John de Vienne, who was waiting for him on the bat- tlements, and told him all he had been able to gain from the king. The lord of Vieime went to the market-place, and caused the bell to be rung, upon which a'^ +he inhabitants assembled in the town-htUl. He then relu v^ i to them what he had said, and the answers he had received, and that he could not obtain better conditions. Then they broke into lamentations of grief and despair, so that the hardest heart would have had compas'=;ion on them; and their valiant governor, ' Queen Philippa, wlien in Flanders, stood godmother to the son of Edward's democratic ally, dlerwards the famous Philip von Artavelde. " To tliis infant," says the chronicler, " she gave at the font her own imnio of Philip." • Froissart. ■ (^ l|i! If, •■ k '-ii i 570 PHILIPPA or HAINAULT. ! f i' i s '■ k . ii i lord de Vienne, wept bitterly. After a short pause, the most wealthy citizen of Calais, by name Eustace St. Pierre, rose up and said, ' Gentlemen, both high and low, it would be pity to sufter so many of our countrymen to die through famine : it would be highly meritorious in the eyes of our Saviour if such misery could be prevented. If I die to serve my dear towns- men, I trust I shall find grace before the tribunal of God. I name myself first of the six.' " When Eustace had done speaking, his fellow-citizens all rose up and almost adored him, casting themselves on their knees with tears and groans. Then another citizen rose up, and said he would be the second to Eustace ; his name was John Daire : after him, James Wisant, who was very rich in money and lands, and kinsman to Eustace and John. His example was followed by Peter Wisant, his brother : two others' then offered themselves, which completed the number demanded by king Edward. The governor, De Vienne, mounted a sonall horse, for it was with difficulty he could walk, and conducted them through the gate to the barriers. He said to sir Walter, who was there waiting for him, ' I deliver up to you, as governor of Calais, these six citizens, and swear to you they were, and are at this day, the most wealthy and respectable inhabitants of the to^\^l. I beg of you, gentle sir, that of your goodness you would beseech the king that they may not be put to death.* — ' I cannot answer what the king will do with them,* rephed sir Walter ; ' but you may depend upon this, that I will do all I can to save them.* The barriers were then opened, and the six citizens were conducted to the pavilion of king Edward. When sir Walter Maimy had presented these six citizens to the king, they fell upon their knees, and, with uplifted hands, said, ' Most gallant king ! see before you six citizens of Calais, who have been capital merchants, and who bring you the keys of the town and castle. We surrender ourselves to your absolute will and pleasiu'e, in order to save the remainder of our fellow-citizens and inhabitants of Calais, who have suffered great distress and misery. Condescend, then, out of your nobleness, to have compassion on us.* Eriglinii tradition declafcs that one of tlieso wao tli6 young son of Eustnco St. Pion*. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 571 )rt pause, the most St. Pierre, rose up it would be pity to through famine : it our Saviour if such rve my dear towns- ;ribimal of God. I 8 fellow-citizens all hemselves on their citizen rose up, and his name was John very rich in money ohn. His example r : two others' then imber demanded by ;, mounted a small valk, and conducted e said to sir Walter, p to you, as governor you they were, and pectable inhabitants lat of your goodness may not be put to will do with them,' upon this, that I jarriers were then id to the pavilion of lad presented these eir knees, and, with see before you six merchants, and who ;le. We surrender ire, in order to save ■ihabitants of Calais, isery. Condescend, )a88ion on us/ tiie young son of Eustacu " All the Enghsh barons, knights, and squires that were assembled there in great numbers, wept at this sight ; but king Edward eyed them with angry looks, for he hated much the people of Calais, because of the great losses he had suffered at sea by them. Forthwith he ordered the heads of the six citizens to be struck off. All present entreated the king to he more merciful, but he would not listen to them. Then sir Walter Mauny spoke : ' Ah, gentle king ! I beseech you restrain your anger. Tarnish not your noble reputation by such an act as this ! Truly the whole world will cry out on your cruelty, if you should put to death these six worthy persons.' For all this the king gave a wink to his marshal, and said, ' I will have it so / and ordered the headsman to be sent for, adding, 'the men of Calais had done him such damage, it was fit they suffered for it.' At this, the queen of England, who was very near her lying-in, fell on her knees before king Edward, and with tears said, ' Ah, gentle sir ! sithence I have crossed the sea with great peril to see you, I have never asked you one favour ; now I most humbly ask as a gift, for the sake of the Son of the blessed Marj--, and as a proof of your love to me, the lives of these six men.' King Edward looked at her for some time in silence, and then said, * Ah, lady ! I wish you had been anywhere else than here. You have entreated in such a manner, that I cannot refuse you. I therefore give them you : do as you please with them.' The queen conducted the six citizens to her apart- ments, and had the halters taken from about their necks; after which she new clothed them, and served them with a plentiful dinner. She then presented each with six nobles, and had them escorted out of the camp in safety." The French historians, who, from mortified national pride, have endeavoured to invalidate this beautiful incident, pretend to do so by proving, as an inconsistency in the character of Philippa, that she took possession, a few days after the sur- render of Calais, of the tenements belonging to one of her protegis, John Daire. They have hkewise impugned the patriotism of Eustace St. Pierre, because he remained in Calais as Edward's subject. But king Edward granted im- ik J^' Mr i T> I J - . - <-i ■ » J • . i; L »' 672 PIIILIPPA OP HAINAULT. munity to all those who swore allegiance to him, and stayed in Calais ; while those who chose expatriation, like John Daire forfeited their tenements, which they certainly could not take with them.' Now Froissart has shown that Edward presented his Calisian captives to his queen, to " do with them what she pleased." This transfer gave Philippa rights over their persons and property, which she used most generously in regard to the first, but retained her claims over the possessions in the town of those who refused to become subjects of her husband. The very fact, proved by deeds and charters, that Philippa became proprietress of John Daii'e's houses, greatly authenticates the statement of Fi'oissart. It would have been pleasant to record that PhiUppa restored the value of John Daire's tenements; but biography, imhke poetry or romance, seldom permits us to portray a character approaching perfection. Truth compels us to display the same person, by turns, merciful or ferocious, generous or acquisitive, according to the mutabihty of hiunan passion. The philosophic observer of hfe will see no outrage on probability in the facts, that Philippa saved John Daire's hfe one day, and took possession of his vacated spoils the next week. " The king, after he had bestowed these six citizens on queen Philippa, called to him sir Walter Manny and his two marshals, the earls of Warwick and Stafford, and said, * My lords, here are the keys of Calais town and castle : go, and take possession." Directions were given for the castle to be prepared with proper lodgings for the king and queen. When this had been done, the king and queen mounted their steeds, and rode towards the town, which they entered with the sound of trumpets, drums, and all sorts of warlike instruments. The king re- mained in Calais till the queen was brought to bed of a daughter, named Margai'et." Three days before Edward and Phihppa returned to Eng- * Eustai o was not a soldier, vowed to liis banner, like the lord do Vienne, but a bur;^her, attached by many powerfiil ties to his town. Ho was fimily loyal to his prince while Philip could extend kingly protection to his lieges at Calais, but when Philip was forced to leave Calais to its fatt, the same necessity obliged Eus- tace to transfer his allegiance. Expatriation is not the bounden duty of a citizen. 2 Froissart. The siege lasted from June 1346, to August 1347. Walslngham declares king Edwai-d spared the jjeople of Calais in life and limb, — an obsor\'ation lie would scarcely have made if tlie contrary had not been expected. ft'-.i-' r-i PHILIPPA OP HAINAULT. )73 returned to Eng- land, the emperor Louis of Bavaria died, who had married Marguerite of Hainault, her eldest sister. Towards the close of the same year, Edward was elected emperor of Germany, — an honour of which he very wisely declined the acceptance. At this time it was considered that the king and queen of England had touched the height of human prosperity; with the exception of the trifling disappointment in the disposal of the hand of her eldest daughter, the year 1347 closed most auspiciously for Philippa and her warhke lord. But the military triumphs of England brought with them some corruption of manners. Chroniclers note that the jewels which once decorated the nobility of France were transferred to the persons of the EngUsh ladies, who, out of compliment to the queen's successful generalship, and the personal heroism of the valiant countess of Montfort, her kinswoman, began to give themselves the airs of warriors ; they wore small jewelled daggers as ornaments at their bosoms, and their caps, formed of cambric or lawn, were cut like the aperture of a knignt's helmet. But these objectionable caps brought their own punishment with them, being hideously unbecoming. The church was preparing suitable remon- strances against these imfeminine proceedings, when all pride, whether royal or national, was at once signally confounded by the awful visitation of pestilence which approached the shores of England, 1348. This pestilence was called emphatically, from its eflfects on the human body, ' the black death.' Every household in London was smitten, and some wholly exter- minated : nor did Philippa's royal family escape, for the cruel pestilence robbed her of the fairest of her daughters, under circumstances of peculiar horror. The beauty and graces of the second daughter of Philippa, called the princess Joanna of Woodstock, were such as to be the themes of every minstrel : she was in her fifteenth year when Alphonso king of Castile demanded her in marriage for his heir, the infant Pedro, who afterwards attained an unde- sirable notoriety under the name of Pedro the Cruel. The princess had been nurtured and educated by that virtuous lady Marie St. Pol, the widowed countess of Pembroke, to - '. I'm m Im n (. i ; i 1 'i ' 1 -\i\ 1 4 t 1 I - 574 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. whose munificent love of learning Cambridge owes one of her noblest foundations.^ As a reward for rearing and educating the young princess, king Edward gave the countess, her governess, the manor of Stroud, in Kent, with many expres- sions of gratitude, calling her " his dearest cousin Marie de St. Pol." ^ The fair Joanna was spared the torment of be- coming the wife of the most furious man in Europe, by the more mercifiil plague of ' the black death.' The royal bride sailed for Bourdeaux at the latter end of the summer of 1348, while her father-in-law, the king of Castile, travelled to the frontier city, Bayonne, with the infant don Pedro, to meet her. King Edward's loyal citizens of Boui-deaux escorted the princess Joanna as far as Bayonne, in the cathedral of which city she was to give her hand to Pedro. On the very even- ing of her triumphal entry into Bayonne the pestilence, out of all the assembled multitudes, seized on the fair young Plantagenet as a victim : it terminated her existence in a few hom*s. Her Spanish bridegroom, and the king his father, followed her fimeral procession on the very day and hour that she was appointed to give her hand as a bride at the altar of that cathedral wherein she was buried. The deep grief of the parents of Joanna is visible in the Latin letters written by Edward III. to the king of CastUe, to don Pedro, and to the queen of Castile. If the Latinity of these letters will not bear the criticism of the classical scholar, they are, nevertheless, lofty in sentiment, and breathe an expression of parental tenderness seldom to be found in state- papers. " Your daughter and ours," he says to the queen of Castile, " was by nature wonderfully endowed with gifts and graces ; but Uttle does it now avail to praise them, or specify the charms of that beloved one, who is — oh, grief of heart !— for ever taken from us. Yet the debt of mortality must be paid, however deeply sorrow may drive ' j thorn, and our hearts be transpierced by anguish. Nor will our sighs and teal's cancel the inevitable law of nature. Christ, the celestial ' This lady had been rendered a widow on her bridal day, by her newly-wedded lord being killed at the tournament given in honour of his nuptials. Tlie maiden widow never married again, but devoted her great wealth to charity aiid the pro- motion of Icarnins. * Fcederaj voL Vt iT. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 575 dge owes one of her aring and educating B the countess, her , with many expres- est cousin Marie de the torment of be- n in Europe, by the 1.' The royal bride ;he summer of 1348, ile, travelled to the don Pedro, to meet ii'deaux escorted the e cathedral of which On the very even- 3 the pestilence, out I on the fair young I her existence in a L the king his father, ry day and hour that bride at the altar of na is visible in the the king of Castile, . If the Latinity of ■ the classical scholar, int, and breathe an 0 be found in state- says to the queen of owed with gifts and Eiise them, or specify oh, grief of heart !— ' mortality must be J thorn, and our will our sighs and Christ, the celestial day, by her newly -wedded his nuptials. Tlie maiden 1th to charity and the pro- PoBderftj voL Vt spouse, has taken the maiden bride to be his spouse. She, in her innocent and immaculate years, has been transferred to the virgin choir in heaven, where, for us below, she will perpetually intercede." The queen must have imagined that her royal and hand- some progeny was doomed to a life of celibacy, for extraordi- naiy accidents of one kind or other had hitherto prevented the marriages of her daughteis. Her heroic son Edward had been on the point of marrying several princesses, without his nuptials ever being brought to a conclusion. A long attach- nient had subsisted between him and his beautiful cousin Joanna, daughter of his uncle, Edmurd earl of Kent, and the lady had remained unwedded till her twenty-fifth year, after being divorced from the eai*l of Salisbury, to whom she had been contracted in her infancy. Queen Pliilippa had a great objection to her son's union with his cousin,' on account of the flightiness of the lady's disposition. After vainly hoping for the royal consent to her miion with her cousin, Joanna gave her hand to sir Thomas Holland ; but still the Black Prince remained a bachelor. After the grand crisis of the capture of Calais, Pliilippa resided chiefly in England. Our country felt the advantage of the beneficent presence of its queen. Phihppa had in her youth established wooUen manufactures : she now turned her sagacious intellect towards worldng the coal-mines in Tynedale, — a branch of national industry whose inestimable benefits need not be dilated upon. The mines had been worked, with great profit, in the reign of Henry III., but the convulsions of the Scottish wars had stopped their pro- gress. Philippa had estates in Tynedale, and si?- had long resided in its vicinity during Edward's Scottish campaigns. It was an infallible result, that, wherever this great queen du-ected her attention, wealth and national prosperity speedily followed. Well did her actici < illustrate her Flemish motto, Iche tvrude muche, wliich obsolete words Ti>ay be rendered, ' Guthrie mention^ the long celibacy of Joanna. ' the fair maid of Kent/ pre- viously to her union with Holland. Froissart speaks of Philippa's objections to the marriage of Edward with Ids cousin, and very freely enters mto some scan- uoIguS atOiieti regarding her. ^i :i ^ v 576 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 't. I t 1 W fi> f ' I labour (or toil) much/ Soon after her return from Calais she obtained n grant from her royal lord/ giving permission to her baihft", tVlan de Strothere, to work the mines of Alder, iieston, which had been worked in the days of king Henry III. and Edward I. From this re-opening of the Tyaedale mines by Phihppa proceeded our coal-trade, whici), daiaijr the rei<,'n of her grandson, Henry IV., enrich.abeth de Burgh, daughter to the deceased earl of Ulster, (slain in Ireland,) with her lands and lordships, until Lionel, yet in tender years, shall take the yo'img Ehzabeth to wife." * Our queen was neai'ly as popular at Bristol as she was at Norwich. The Bristolians have carefully preserved severtol Imsts of her, sculptured in stone. One of considerable beauty, over the tiiforium of the cathedral, is t- ■ original of our por- ' Caley's Fcedera. To this grant is added a cv' ■ ilause, giving permission to Robert de Viteriponte and his heirs to be calk , ; of Tyncdale. ' Walfi'. : iun. " Caley's FoKlera. ' " ois: • ,ol. xi. ' Caley's Fcodera, ..: ) :^Jl* JLT. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 577 ler return from Calais rd/ giving permission k the mines of Alder. ya of king Henry III. f the Tyaedale mines iicii, duiinjr the reij^n tlie j^'oal, mejclant ':■ rwHi .an'My. CI.. he duke of Bretagii') ; ) filed in his tweJfth ; and Blanche, of the r Calais; th>.:: } .'inc; oS ftersvards. Edward's ons wert .'luiiiiicpnt. i \\0( ied : — July 20. " our Fhihppa, our liquidate the expenses 7as on occasion of the d son of that name, of the great English Mward, her chivalric from disapprobation Her next surviving Enghsh maiden, but his young bride, as "January 1, 1347. , Philippa, the ward- gh, daughter to the ) with her lauds and ears, shall take the Bristol as she was at ly preserved several considerable beauty, original of our por- 'l -v? S Polnt-'o VmAora t^ait.* As it only consists of the head and neck, of course the detail of the costiune cannot be given, excepting of the pe- culiarly elegant crown, which is a low-pointed circlet, sur- mounted and enriched with flowers and fohage, apparently formed of gems. The easy folds of the waving hair flowing on the queen's shoulders have been struck out by a chisel of no common power: the expression of Phihppa's forehead is noble and candid, and that of her features pretty and sweet- tempered. Her age, in the beautiful original bust, does not appear more than twenty-two years. A precept of Philippa, May 14, 1354, relating to her claims of queen-gold, estabhshes by practical proof that her worth of character was sterling, and not merely founded on the flatter- ing tribute of the poets or historians she patronised, — such as Chaucer or Froissart. She desires therein " that her attorney in the exchequer, her dear clerk sir John de Edington, should cause all the writs which have been filed from the search lately made by sir Richard de Cressevill to be postponed until the octaves of Easter next ensuing, to the end that in the mean time we and our council may be able to be advised which of the said writs are to be put in execution for our profit, and which of them are to cease to the relief of our people and to stve our conscience. And we will that this letter be your warrant therefore. — Given under our privy-seal at West- minster, the 14th day of May, in the reign of our very dear lord the king of England the twenty-fourth,'' (1354) .* The grjind victory of Poictiers distinguished the year 1357. A prouder day than that of Neville's-Cross was the 5th of May, 1357, M'hen Edward the Black Prince landed at Sand- yidi with his royal prisoner king John, and presented him to his mother aftei* that glorious entry into London, where the prince tacitly gava John the honours of a suzerain by permitting him to mount the famous white charger on which ' Wo have to retiu^ oui' pratdM thanks to the rev. Mr. Carter of Bristol- ca'i !\w3xi;' : >u,t ( dv for o. -..iohig permission to copy this representation of our great " i-x-u i^hihppa 'n the nuiri.'ian of her hfe, hut for taking trouble and in- cm ii-j, expense in havi^ig, an accurate cast made from the triforium head, and se ing it to us. ' Madox, Collect. Additional MSS. .anslatcd ii-om the original French. VOL. I. P r MM^ t » 578 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. r d 14 he rode at Poictiers, and which was captured with him.' At the same time that the queen received her vanquished kins- man, her son presented to her another prisoner, who, young as he M'as, was far fiercer in his captivity than the king of France : this was Philip, the fourth son of king John, a httle liero of fourteen, who had fought desperately by his father's side on the lost field, and had been captured alive with some difficulty, and not tiU he was desperately wounded." The first day of his arrival at the court of England he gave a proof of his fierceness, by starting from the table, where he sat at dinner with the king and queen and his father, and boxing the ears of king Edward's cup-bearer for serving the king of England before the king of Prance ; " for," he said, " though his father king John was unfortunate, he was the sovereign of the king of England." Edward and PhUippa only smiled at the boy's petulance, and treated him with indulgent benevo- lence ; and when he quarrelled mth the prince of Wales, at a game of chess, they most com-teously decided the disputed move in favour of prince Philip. That renowned champion, sir Bertrand du Gueschn, was one of the prisoners of Poictiers. One day, when queen Phihppa was entertaining at her court a number of the noble French prisoners, the prince of Wales proposed that Du Guesclin should name his own ransom, according tc tlie etiquette of the times, adding, that whatever sum he men- tioned, be it small or great, should set him free. The valiant Breton valued himself at a hundred thousand crowns. The prince of Wales started at the immense sum, and asked sir Ber- trand " How he could ever expect to raise such an enormous ransom ?" — " I know," replied the hero, " a hundred knights in my native Bretagne, who would mortgage their last acre rather than Du Guesclin should either languish in captivity or be rated below his value : vea, and there is not a woman in France now toiling at her distaff, who would not devote a * The white horse was always, in the middle ages, the sign of sovereignty, Giffard mentions the interesting fivct, that this white steed was a captive as wtU as his master. — Hist, of France. '•* Philip le Hardi, duke of Burgundy. He was a prince cf great integrity, and always fiuthf\il to his unlbrtuiiate nephew, Cluvrles VI. — Giflhrd. LT. ' ured with him.' At ler vanquished kins- prisoner, who, young ty than the king of )f king John, a httle ratelv by his father's ured alive with some (vounded.* The first nd he gave a proof fible, where he sat at 8 father, and boxing r serving the king of r," he said, "though was the sovereign of Oippa only smiled at h indulgent benevo- prince of Wales, at a decided the disputed id du Guesclin, was day, when queen lumber of the noble proposed that Du , according to the tever sum he men- n free. The valiant ipind crowns. The n, and asked sir Ber- such an enormous a hundred knights age their last acre mguish in captivity ere is not a woman would not devote a the sign of sovereignty. «ed was a captive as will ice f.f great integrity, and -Git?ar luent of his ransom : he sent to England the young lord de '>oucy, count of Soissons, as one of the hostages for Uquidation. During the sojourn of De Coucy in England, he won the heart of the lady Isabella, the eldest daughter of Edward td Philippa. After remaining some time in France, and finding it Impossible to fulfil his engagements, king John returned to his captivity, and redeemed his parole and his hostages with this noble sentiment : " If honour were lost elsewhere upon earth, it ought to be found in the c(»»iduct of kings." Froissart thus describes the retiu*n of this heroi;?, but unfortmiate sovereign : — " News was brought to the king, who was at that time with queen Philippa at Eltliam, (a very besides their nearness of kin other impediments existed to their union; the prince had Ibnned a still stroii r relationship with his cousin, according to the laws of the lloman-catholic chnn h, by becoming.' sponsor to her two boys, and hold- ing them in his arms at the baptismal font ; aud, above all, the divorce of Joanna from the earl of Salisbury was not consiilered legal. All these impediments were legalized by a bull, obtained some years after this marriage. — Rymer's Foedera. V . ! I i I il 1^' 5S2 rillLIPPA OF HAINAITT. I, • t I 1 » 1 mngnidoent pj\lMi*e the Knj:li»h kinj^s have Ui. veu uuU's tWi Loudou,) that the captive kinj; \\m\ hui(l*t' \t IXjmt. Th* was in \l\M, the 1st of Janiuiry. King ialwaiil sent off 4 gnuid deputation, saying how much the fpieen uuil he >vcrv rejoieeup|Kvst\|, all things consiiierod, the king of FnuKV n^adily iH'Uival. King John ottered at the shrine of Thonuu* j\-Ueeket at (mi. terburj', on his joiu*ney ; and taking the rojul to London, ho arrived at Elthaui, where ipieen Phdippa and king Kdwarvl wore ready to retn^ive him. It was on a Sunday, in the altir. noon : there wen% between that tinie and supinn*. many gnuul dimees and eiu-ols, at which it seems the young Kud ile Tom v distinguished himself by singing and (huunng. 1 can ui>\ti- relate how very honound)ly the king and (puvu heliaveil to kini: John at Elthmn. They alterwanls lodgetl him with givut pomp in the palace of the Savoy, wheiv he visited king lOdwmd at Westminster whenever he hml a mind to vah) him or thi« queen, taking boat, juid coming fix)m Savoy-staii's by water ti> the palace." But king John's health waa declining, and lir died at the Savoy-palace the same year.' A niai'riage soon after took phu'o between the elt«gnut l)i« Coucy and the princesa-royiU. Although an emjH'i'or's ucplicw,- this nobleman couM scarcely be considered a nuiteh ft>r tlie daughter «f Edward III.; but siiu^e the escape of her faith- less betrothed, the count of Flanders, Isabella hail enliM'«il into no marriage-contract, and was, at the time of her iui|i- tials, turned of thirty. On occasion of the marriage fivstiviiLs king Edward presented his queen with two rich corsets, oiio ernbroidered with the words Myn hiddinye, luid the other with her motto, Iche wrude muche.^ Prince Lionel at this time espoused the ward of queen Philippa, Elizabeth do Ihii^'h, ' Knowing hk cud u])iiroiu;1iin^, kiii^ John ]iiul cortiiinly Murruiulurud lii.i perarm, in hopes of Havhig liis country tlio <>x|N!uho ol' h'lM ruuNoni. ' He wiut ^ambton to liOojxdd duko of AuKtriu, hy Kuthurin«<, HiNtur (^> tlm emperor Allwrt II. 3 We owe thw curious fwit to sir Harris Nicohut's excellent work on the ordi r of the Garter. The hmpuui^e of the wohIm luw Imen diNputed, hut; we Ix'^ li'uvu to offer thiM fact to the ^nuiideration of philolop^iHtM. If a Huil'olk |H'iiMaiit ol llii' coast opposite to Holland is anked " wliat h4) did ycstenlay ?" when ho luul luul a very hard day's work, he will reply nearly in the mme-itounding words in hU East- Anglian dialect; viz. " 1 wrought much." vn.T. riuLirrA of u.\in'ai?m\ nna have ui vrti mil« (rv>^ uul>i' it '.Xn«T. T!.< iuj? iaiwanl sout otl" 4 le quei*ii aiul ho u^^ lis it lurtv he 5«upjKvs,. mil qiuHMi hohavnl to liMlfj^tnl hill) with f,'iv«t t^ visittnl kinj,' ICdwuid lul to sMHi him or tlu« tvoy-stmi-s hy wator to VMS (lediuinjf, and In- wceii thu clt'pmt \h ui tunpofor's in-phcw,- •red a match for the ! e8t;apo of hor faitli- iNahoUa had ontcivd | lie timo of luir iiii|)- llie murriago ft^stivuls two rich (Mirm^ts, 0110 e, iuid tlic other witli Lionel at tluH timo Khzabeth do Miir^'li, cortiiiiily Burremlnml liii iIm riuwoin. l>y Kttthorimt, »I»itw to tlio xc«illmit work on tlm unlci liNi)»t4'd, l)ii<; wii U'^i; Iciivii If II HiiHolk \mwmiitt (li.- )nluy V" when ho luul l.iut ine-KouniUntf word« in hU who hi"»>u^ht, iw dower, »t U'»«t oiie-thirxi i»l* lieUiul. wUh \\w lui^htv iuheritauct> of the (MiureM, t^U of liloUi-eMter. Md- waixl III. afterwjuds ei-ealed l.itmel ilnke of rimt^iuv. 'V\\\» priutv, thr\>u^h >^h\Me dtei^^hter, niarned to Kduuuid Mortimer, tlu* liut^ of York tU'ttviHl theu' primo^eiotiirt\ wan a haiuUome and (HMm^^\>us KleuuHh ^iaut, mdd-tempered mtd aiuiabU\ mm peiNous of );ivat stivn^th and stature, l>v a tMitehetnit law of uatuiv, usually aiv. Lionel ih rather au olMcme though iin- pitrtnnt person in llu^liHh hintorv. lien) in Ium pvutratl, by the hutt of luu' rhyming chroiueU'rH ;♦— .., , , ** In u)l tito witrlil thorti >^m lui |ivIimv Kiiu llkt*. ^ 01' lii^h ittalm-o luut nC ull mviuIuu^mm, AIh>v«' nil \»i n«htf ('lareuct\ let> a dau}:;hter but a few days tild, ut whowe pro}»eny tlu^ title to tlu^ Muj^liMh I'lown ban ceutertul She wa« bom aud Impti/ed at K.lt bam palace, Au^MlNt Kith, tlu^ twenty- ninth year of her m'audfatber'M r«ii^u.* 'Pbi« motbtM'leNs babe tlu^ (piecu IMiilippa adopted for her t»wn, and became npouNur to her with the counte.sHof WarwM'k, aw may be m'cn in tlm l''ruu'» (lenealoj^y, when mentioning' latim^l td' (Man^nco ; — ' *< IIIn wUh wiu th'iitl iiikI ut Cltmi hniio«l, II ' * • Anil no litnr liml ho Imt hiM ilutiKhtitv, tUiro I l'hili|i|H<, llml hi^hl im. thfonirloH H|HH'illo«l, Wlioni t|Ution l*hlli|i)Ni thiUlonotl lor hU hiili'," ' ' '' , Tho iirchhinhoj* of S'ork for hor ooni|uiiii' 1 llor ^othiiothoi', uImo, wiim of Wiirwlrk ooniiliwiii A liuly likowiNo of grtuU woilhinuiw." , John of Oaunt, tlut third HurviviiiK nou of Phitippa, miu'ried Uliuu'he, the heircNN of Lancaster: ttu^ prinecHM Mary wiim wedded to the duke of Uritta^iic, but died early in life. Va\~ mund Imn^ley, earl of (*ainbrid^c, alVerwiirdH duke of York, married Uabellii of (^^antihs wboNi! NiHter Ium brother John of ' Whiit Hort of lion IIiIm niuy Ih« wo Imvo uol yvl uncoil uiund. ' A|i|Min ^ • r'^fJf . ; , ■ .n. J "•■'■ ■■ , ' j ^"r ^ ..,;■■ • [ . ^ :.i ,( l'; I' ' ■ ' --i f. 1 I ¥ ■ i 'JT'^B r ' ' ! , k *■' ' |l - I ..- ft J * k . 1 1 ) ^ J r f 684 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. Gaunt took for his second wife. The youngest prince, Thomas of Woodstock, afterwards created duke of Gloucester, married an English lady, the co-heiress of Humphrey de Bohun, eon- stable of England. Margaret, the fifth daughter of Edward III., was given in marriage to the earl of Pembroke ; she was one of the most learned ladies of her age, and a distinguished pati'oness of Chaucer.' Notwithstanding their great strength and commanding stature, scarcely one of the sons of Philippa reached old age ; even "John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster,^' was only fifty-nine sit his demise. The premature introduction to the cares of state, the weight of plate-armour, and the violent exercise in the tilt-yard, by way of relaxation from the severer toils of partisan waifare, seem to have brought early old age on this gallant brotherhood of princes. The queen had been the mother of twelve children ; eight siu^ved her. Every one of the sons of Philippa were famous champions in the field. The Black Prince and John of Gaunt were learned, elegant, and brilliant, and strongly partook of the genius of Edward I. and the Proven9;d Plantagenets. Lionel and Edmund werj good-natured and brave. They were comely in featm'cs. und gigantic in statm-e ; they possessed no great vigour of intellect, and were both rather addicted to the pleasures of the table. Thomas of Woodstock was fierce, petidant, and rapacious; he possessed, however, considerable accomplishments, and is reckoned among royal and noble authors. He wrote a his- tory of the * Laws of Battle,' which is perspicuous in stj'^le ; he was the great patron of Gower the poet, ■who belonged originally to the household of this prince. The queen saw the promise of a successor to the throne of England in the progeny of her best-beloved son Edward. Her grandson Richard wjvs bom at Bourdeaux, before she succumbed to her fatal malady. Philippa had not the misery of li^^Iig to see the change in * Philippa, in conjunction with her son, John duke of Lancaster, warmly patronised Chaucer. With this qtieen the court i'avour of the father of English verse expired. Ho 'as neplccted hy llichard I J. and 'lis consort, as all his memoirs w ill testify. Nor did the union of bis wife's sister with the duke of Lancaster draw him from his retirement. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 585 ■ lit see the cimnge in the prosperity of her family, — to witness the long pining decay of the heroic prince of Wales, the grievous change in his health and disposition, or the imbecihty that gradually took posses- sion of the once-mighty mind of her husband. Before these reverses took place, the queen was seized with a dropsical malady, under which she languished about two years. All her sons were absent on the continent when her death ap- proached, excepting her youngest, Thomas of Woodstock. The Black Prince had just concluded his Spanish campaign, and was ill in Gascony. Lionel of Clarence was at the point of death in Italy ; the queen^s secretary, Froissart, had accom- panied that prince when he went to be married to Violaute of ]\Iilan. On the return of Froissart, he found his royal mistress was dead, and he thus describes her death-bed, from the detail of those who were present and heard her last words : " I must now speak' of the death of the most courteous, liberal, and noble lady that ever reigned in her time, — the lady Philippa of Hainault, queen of England. While her son the duke of Lancaster was encamped in the valley of Tourneham, ready to give battle to the duke of Burgundy, tliis death happened in England, to the infinite misfortune of king Edward, his children, and the whole kingdom. That excellent lady the queen, who had done so much good, aiding all knights, ladies, juid damsels, when distressed, who had applied to her, was at this time dangerously sick at Windsor-castle, and every day her disorder increased. When the good queen perceived that her end approached, she called to the king, and extending her right hand from under the bed-clothes, put it into the right hand of king Edv/ard, who was oppressed with sorrow, and thus spoke : * We have, my husband, enjoyed our long union in happiness, peace, and prosperity. But I entreat, before I depart, and Me are for ever separated in this world, that you will grant me three requests.' King Edward, with sighs and tears, replied, ' Lady, name them : whatever be yoiu" requests, they shall be granted.' — ' My lord,' she said, * I beg you will fulfil whatever engagements I have entered into with mer- * Froissart, vol. iv. p. 20. Froissart wrote an elegy in verse on the death of his piiti'onesSj (juecn l'hili>)pai which lias not been iireaervcd. lit. P^ t.i : i'l 'i]V ;»■' V: I I' ! u t ; ; . 1^ ; ' ^-^j! . ', ; '\\\ ' i I -^ 586 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. chants for their wares, as well on this, as on the other side of the sea : I beseech you to fulfil whatever gifts or legacies I have made, or left to churches wherein I have paid my devo- tions, and to all my servants, whether male or female : and when it shall please God to call you hence, you will choose no other sepulchre than mine, and that you will rest by my side in the cloisters of Westminster-abbey/ The king, in tears, repUed, * Lady, all this shall be done.' Soon after, the good lady made the sign of the cross on her breast, and having re- commended to the king her youngest son Thomas, who was present, praying to God she gave up her spirit, which I firmly believe was caught by holy angels and carried to the glory of heaven, for she had never done any thing by thought or deed to endanger her soul. Thus died this admirable queen of England, in the year of grace 13G9, the vigil of the Assump- tion of the Virgin, the 14th of August. Information of this heavy loss was carried to the EngUsh army at Tounieham, which greatly aflSicted every one, more especially her son John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster." Philippa's words Avere not complied with to the letter ; her grave is not by her husband's side, at Westminster-abbe v, but at his feet. Her statue in alabaster is placed on the mt^.iu- ment.' Skelton's translation of her Latin epitaph, hmig on a tablet close by her tomb, is as foUows : — " Faire Philippe, William Haiiiaulfc's child, and younger danghter dcare. Of roseate hue and beauty bright, in tomb lies hilled here ; King Edward, tlirough his mother's will and nobles' g(xid consent, Took her to wife, and joyfully with her his time he spent. Her uncle John, a martial man, and eke a valiant knight, Did link this woman to this king in bonds of marriage bright : ' Stowe gives names to the numerous images which surround the tomb on the authority of an old MS^. At the feet are the king of Navarre, the king ,f Bohemia, the king of Scots, the king of Spain, and the king of Sicily. At the head, William count of Hainault, Philippa's father ; John king of France, hi r imcle'g son ; Edward III., her husband ; the em]:)eror, her brother-in-law ; autl Edward prince of Wales, her son. On the l(>ft side are .Toanna queen of Scots, her sister-in-law; John earl of Cornwall, her brother-in-law; Joanna prhiccss of Wales, her daughter-ni-la.v. and the duchesses of Clarence and Lancaster, the princefw Isal)ell'.i, and the princes Lionel, John, Ednmnd, and Thomas. On the right side of the tomb may Ix' seen licr mother, her brother and his wife, her nephew Louis of Havaria, her uncle John of Hainault, her daughters -Mary and Margaret, and Chai'les duke of Brabant. V PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 587 This match and marriage thus in blood did bind the Flemings sure . To Englishmen, by which they did the Frenchmen's ^vreck procure. This Philippe, dovered in gifts full rare and treasm-es of the mind, In beauty bright, religion, faith, to all and each most kind. A fruitful mother Phihppe was, full many a sou she bred. And brought forth many a worthy knight, hardy and full of dread ; A careful nurse to students all, at Oxford she did found Queen's college, and dame Pallas' school, that did her fame resound. The wife of Fjdward, dear Queen Philippe, lieth here. LEABN TO LIVE." Truth obliges us to divest queen Pliilippa of one good deed, which was, in fact, out of her power to perform ; she is gene- rally considered to be the first foundress of the magnificent Queen's college, at Oxford. It was founded, mdeed, by her chaplain, — that noble character Robert de Eglesfield,' who, with modesty equal to his learning and merits, placed it under the protection of his royal mistress, and called it her founda- tion, and the ' college of the queen.' Eglesfield took for the motto of Queen's college a Latin sentence, which may be translated, — " Queens shall be thy nurses ;" and he recom- mended it to the protection and patronage of the queen- consorts of England.^ In the course of history, rival queens will be found \'ying with each other in its support, — perhaps stimulated to this useful work by Eglesfield's well-chosen motto. Phihppa herself, the consort of a monarch perpetually engaged in foreign war, and the mother of a large family, contributed but a mite towards this splendid foundation : this was, a yearly rent of twenty marks, to the sustenance of six scholar-chaplains, to be paid by her receiver. Queen Philippa's principal charitable doiication was to the hospital of the nuns of St. Katherine by the Tower. She likewise left donations to the canons of the new chapel of St. Stephen, which Edward III. had built as the domestic place of worship to Westminster-palace. Her portrait, on board, in lively colours, was found among some nibbish in a desecrated part of the beautiful cloisters of St, Stephen.^ It is far more personable than her monumental statue at Westminster-abbey, ' History of tlio University of Oxford, ' Memoir of Eglostidd, in Hutchinson's Cuniberkind. ' Crowle's Pennant's London, vol v'ii. where a coloured pruit represents this I I i;- ( St f* Tiiinf.irirr x* O' 'If' 1 i . i hiii I ■ ? ; mw^ 588 PHILIPPA OF HAINAFLT. which was really taken when that deforming disease, the dropsy, had destroyed every remnant of Philippa's former beauty. The only shade of impopularity ever cast on the conduct of Philipj)!! was owing to the rapacity of her purveyors, after her children grew up The royal family was numerous, and the revenues, mipoverished by constant war, were very slender ; and therefore every absolute due was enforced, from tenants of the crown, by the purveyors of the royal household.' The damsels of the queen's bedchamber were pensioned by king Edward after her death, according to her request. He charges his exchequer "to pay during the terms of their separate lives, on account of tbeir good and faithful services to Philippa, late queen of England, — first, to the beloved damsel, Alicia de Pieston,^ ten marks yearly^ at Pasche and Michaelmas; likewise to Matilda Fisher, to Eliiiabeth Pershore, to Johamia Kawley, ten marks yearly; to Johanna Cosin, to Philippa the Pj'^card;' and to Agatha Liergin, a himdred shillings yearly; and to Matilda Radscroft and Agnes de Saxilby, five marks yearly." ' 'I'liose toniu'iitmp: adjuncts to teiidality usofl to help themselves to twenty- five qutirters of com iiistoiid of tw(>uty, by takinj; hea]), insti'ad of strike niea.sure, and ^ver^^ guilty of many instances of opp)c.ssion in the queen's name. Ar('h- hishop Islip wrote to Edward III. a most patlictic ktter on the rapacity of the roynl purveyors. He says, " The king ought to make a hiw, enforcing honest payment for all goods needed by his household. Then," continues he, " all men will bring ne;'essaries to your gate, a.s they did in the time of Henry, yovir gi-- at- grandfather, at whose approach all men rejoiced." He declares, " That he, the archbishop hinuself, trembles at hearing the king's horn, whether he haps to he in his house or at mass. When one of the king's servants knocks at the gate, he trembles more; when he comes to the d(x>r, still more; and this terror con- tiiuies a.s long as the king stays, on account of the various evils d(me to the p(K»r. He thinks the king's harbingers come not on iK-half of God, but of the devil. When the horn is heard, every one trembles ; and when the harbinger arrives, inst<'ad of saying ' Fear not,' as the good angel did, he cries ' He n)ust liave oats, and he must liave hay, and he must liave straw and litter for the king's horses.' A second comes in, and ' he must have geese and bens,' and many other things. A third is at his heels, and 'he must have bread and meat.'" The archbishoj) prays the king " not to delay till the nioniiw tlie remedy for Tiese evils, which were only during the years of the king's lather and grandfather; that it is con- trary to all laws, divine and human, and on account of it many souls are now in hell." — Archax)logia. ^ Firdera, vol. vi. p. 018. * Sni)iwsetl to beChauwr's wife. She was sister to Katherine Roet, the tliird wife of .John of Gaunt. Her father was an attendant on rhilipi)a, and employed in Guienne: he was f'om the Iwrders of Picardy,- hence the appellation of his lUiugliter. '# ui ^ PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 589 ti (' The name of Alice Ferrers does not appear on this list of beloved damsels ; hut a little further on, in the Foedera, occurs a well-known and disgraceful grant. " Know aU, that we give and concede to our beloved Ahcia Ferrers, late damsel of the chamber to owe dearest consort Fhilippa deceased, and to her heirs and executors, all the jewels, goods, and chattels that the said queen left in the hands of Euphemia, who was wife to "Walter de Heselarton, knight ; and tlie said Euphemia is to deliver them to the said Alicia, on receipt of tliis our order/' It is to be feared that the king's attachment to this woman had begun during Fhilippa's lingering illness, for in 1368 she obtained a gift of a manor that had belonged to the king's aunt; and in the course of 1369 she was eii^iched by the grant of several manors.' But we will not pursue this subject : we are not obhged to trace the events of the dotage and folly of the once-great Edward, or show the ab- surdity of which he was guilty Avhen he made the infamous Alice Ferrers the queen's successor in his aftections. During his youth, and the brilliant maturity of his life, Fhilippa's royal partner was worthy of the intense and faitliful love slie bore him. According to this portrait, Edward was not only a king, but a king among men, highly gifted in mind, person, and genius : " Edward III. was just six feet in statm-e, exactlv shaped, and strongly made ; his limbs beautifully turned, his face and nose somewhat long and high, but exceedingly comely; his eyes sparkling like fire, his looks manly, and his air an I movements most majestic. He was well versed in law, history, and the divinity of the times : lie understood and spoke readil} Latin, Fren(?h, Spanish, and German." Whilst the court was distracted with the factions which succeeded the death of the Black Frince, and John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, was suspected of aiming at the croAvn, a most extraordinary story 'vas cu'culated in England, relating to a confession supposed to be made by queen Fhilippa, on lier death-bed, to William of Wykeham, bishop of Win- ' Brayk'y and Britton's WeKtmiiister. They, oti very good grounds, suppo?* tliiit Alice had two daughters by the king, tor whouj these excessive grants v ere to nrovidfi. *:■ I u If 1$: ff ¥ : '^f: • t -^^ 690 PIIILIPPA OF HAINAULT. ; ^1 i iii i\ .■\' u : ^^^^, Chester, — " That John of Gaunt was neither the son of Phi- hppa nor Edward III., but a porter's son of Ghent ; for tho queen told him that she brought forth, not a son, but a daughter at Ghent; that she overlaid and killed the httle princess by accident, and dreading the wrath of king Edward for the death of his infant, she persuaded the porter's wife, a Flemish woman, to change her Hving son, who was bom at the same time, for the dead princess. And so the queen nourished and brought up the man now called duke of Lan- caster, which she bare not; and all these things did the queen on her death-bed declare, in confession to bishop Wyke- ham, and earnestly prayed him, ' that if ever it chanceth this son of the Flemish porter affecteth the kingdom, he will make his stock and lineage known to the v/orld, lest a false heir should inherit the throne of England.'"' The inventor of this story did not remember that, of all the scins of Pliihppa, John of Gaunt most resembled his royal sire in the high majestic lineaments and piercing eye? which spoke the descent of ':he Plantagenets from southern Europe. The portraits of Edwai'd III., of the elegant Black Prince,^ and of John of Gaunt, are all marked with as strong an air of individuality as if they had been painted by the acciwate Holbein.^ The close observer of history will not fail to \iotice, that with the life of queen Philippa the happiness, the good for- tune, and even the respectability of Edward III. and his family departed ; and scenes of strife, sorrow, and folly dis- tracted the court where she had once promoted virtue, and presided with well-regulated munificence. ' Archbishop Parker's Ecclesisistical History, and a Latin Chronicle of the reip;n of Edward III., printed in the Arcliseologia. Some shir had been cast on the legitimacy of Richard II. by the Lancastrian party. John of Gaunt was then a decided partisan of Wickliffe, and this story seems raised by the op^wsitc party for the purpose of undermining his influence with the common p improve his bonne mine. It is to be noted that Froissart never calls him ♦ the Black Prince.' * See the Iwautiftil engravuigs by Vertue, from originals, in Carte's folio His- tory of England, vol. ii. • / ,i 5! • jr the son of Pin- of Ghent; for tho not a son, but a d killed the httle ;h of king Edward ;he porter's wife, a who was bom at And so the queen lUed duke of Lan- ese things did the n to bishop Wyke- er it chanceth this jdom, he will make i, lest a false heir The inventor of B sfifis of Pliihppa, sire in the higli L spoke the descent I The portraits of ^ and of John of ,ir of individuality Holbein.^ ail to \iotice, that 3SS, the good for- ard III. and his ow, and folly dis- noted virtue, and a Chronicle of the reipjii had been cast on llie n of Gaunt wrh then a by the op^jositc party mon people, tore the battle of Poic- vore black armour, in prove his bonne mine. Prince.' s, in Carte's folio His- 'M^'. ;5/ // tm \ lis i;.i X, ■^%n'' - // ANNE or i^Om'%\k mttviAtftra »';*•. ♦■»•*>'., FIK.ST (iUFKN OF itU.'If.iU;? ' ■'f ^1 k-ti J'rti^'Kr'bi »• ■ t>«j* anil eorunutvoii — Quw i» '■, I'wbi'MA: mkX ;.nj)rOt."'«i,(*— Qwe^n -■'• t J >!v.' ilnibnuatioa — K'iu, s i iii.''>iw>rfi nt U* Hi-riii y i'\in V k»^l !«i.lh i-i" thi' unri >(i«^s It 'l*Hfe«-.-Tl» favialf ..'iMof Uoj'.'Kit •)■'>»■♦»- ;./<>|' (!(*> .(»! i(»i4' 'iV- y-^ff^^^. ■ yt'i»f* .-.» lor tin; !• l;V«'H--<»''-iUvi '<"'**'>•' •■'"■'^ '•.»*.'.»>-'• .i»- *iii>"' t^.^f* »«•* '"';«-'^ iiistv.i-lii 11 ■ -lf>v ^■s'iiy''-' •> U'B.' k a H' a A t **< « « .1 il i ascriptK'i i l' !.}». V '0 .W«tors of tl.u; J4''kii-jt-;«i* \5.. ■■"ti K;)Hi:Vsi.Mi sixi- siiiiH' couiiiirs r I'l. iplativ^ U> *h;i{ h'vwvf-ni iji. u t :(;-:K' -t Vj\ ".ItvUi- 'J! Ul ruiv «!.i' W ;»,! = 'HJ'tli.v 'Uir!; !.;u- •s;ii.:(«.' iwvriitiif ttJ xcl ,.I3\ ^i'Vih'it '1» «i. •*'. K Kaglami A • I •• of Un*- V tm>' • U v^ »''.i;U'*il!rt "fv:*;:i »i ^J#'. .,:srit i n o It l^ , ..,.T (,t5t; ri.iii' ■•*.' ■ ,ot^t:mI\ 8UKNAMED Tl G< FIRST QUEEN OP i. U. I'fii Dc'icent of Anne of Bohciniii —Letter of the empress Elizabeth — Anne of Bohemia bctrotlied — Sets out for Eiijjliind — Detained at Brabant — Dangei-s by land and stMi — Lands in England — Her progress to London —Pageants at reception — • Marriage and coronation — Queen's fashions and improvements — Queen favour- able to the lleformation — King's campaign in the north — Queen's knight mur- dered— King's brother condemned — Deatli of the princess of Wales — Tlio queen's favourite maid of honour — Persecutions of the queen's servants — Queen pleads for their lives — Grand tournament — Queen presides — Queen intercedes for the city of London — Her visit to the city — (lifts to her — Her entrani^e at Westminster-hall — Her prayer to the king — Richard grants her request^ Queen's sudden death — King's frantic grief — His summons to the burial — ■ Monument — Inscription — Goodness of the queen. The ancestors of the princess Anne of Bohemisi originated from the same country as tlie Flemish Philippa , she was the nearest relsitive to that beloved queen whose hand was attain- able, and by means of her uncle, duke Wenceslaus of Brabant, she brought tlie same popular and profitable commercial alliance to England. Anne of Bohemia was the eldest daughter of the emperor Charles IV. by his fourth wife, Ehzabeth of Pomerania;' she was born about 1367, at * Tlie mother of Anne was the daughter of Boloslaus duke of P-day a noble dowry, the girt of her royal grandsire of Poland, amounting to 100,000 florins of gold. Elizabeth espoused the emperor Charles in 13U3 ; the yeai' afterwards she became the mother of Sigismund, atter- t'l IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4is ^ fc 1.0 I.I ■^1^ |2.5 |50 '"^~ IIIII^H 1^ 1^ III 2.2 - m "^ lis III 2.0 1.8 Ui L25 III U ill 1.6 .V *.> Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872.45C3 .<* .^ ^ <> iV c)' "J ..t f^ 592 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. ■v« Prague, in Bohemia. The regency that governed England during king Richard the Second's minority, demanded her hand for the young king just before her father died, in the year 1380. On the arrival of the English ambassador, sir Simon Burley, at Prague, the imperial court took measures which seem not a Uttle extraordinary at the present day. England was to Bohemia a sort of terra incognitti; and as a general know- ledge of geography and statistics was certainly not among the list of imperial accomphshments in the fourteenth century, the empress despatched duke Primislaus of Saxony on a voyage of discovery, to ascertain, for the satisfaction of herself and the princess, what sort of country England might be. "What- ever were the particulars of the duke's discoveries, — and his homeward despatches must have been of a most curious nature, —it appears he kept a scrutinizing eye in regard to pecuniary interest. His report seems to have been on the whole satis- factory, since in the Foedera we find a letter from the imperial widow of Charles IV. to this eflFect ; that " I, Ehzabeth, Roman empress, always Augusta, Hkewise queen of Bohemia, empower duke Primislaus to treat with Richard king of England con- cerning the wedlock of that excellent virgin the damsel Anne, bom of us ; and in our name to order and dispose, and, as if our own soul were pledged, to swear to the fulfilment of every engagement.^' When the duke of Saxony returned to Germany, he carried presents of jewels from the king of England to the ladies who had the care of the princess's education.' " The duke of Lan- wards emperor of Germany, who was brother, hoth by father and mother, to queen Anne. The emperor Charles IV., of the line of Luxembourg, was son of the blind king of Bohemia, well known to +^e readers of our chivalric annals. Though bereft of his sight, the king of Bonemia would be led by his knights, one at each side of his bridle, into the milie at the gallant fight of Cressy, where, as he said, "he struck good strokes more than one" for his brother-in-law, Philip of Valois. After " charging with all his chivalry " in a tremendous hne, with his battle-steed hnked by chains to the saddles of his knights, the blind hero perished in this desperate attempt to redeem the " fortune of France." The motto of this brave man and the ostrich plumes of his crest wtre assumed by the young victor, our Black Prince, as the proudest trophies of that glorious day. Such was the grandsire of Anne of Bohemia. ' Froissart. f ANNE OP BOHEMIA. 593 ■If it governed England ority, demanded her jr father died, in the lor, sir Simon Burley, lures which seem not ly. England was to as a general know- tainly not among the urteenth century, the axony on a voyage of >n of herself and the I might be. What- discoveries, — and his I most curious nature, 1 regard to pecuniary n on the whole satis- tter from the imperial " I, Elizabeth, Roman of Bohemia, empower King of England con- ^ the damsel Anne, ad dispose, and, as if he fulfilment of every Germany, he carried and to the ladies who " The duke of Lan- I by father and mother, to of Luxembourg, was son of era of our chivalric annals, rould be led by his knights, illant fight of Cressy, where, ne" for his brotlier-in-law, airy " in a tremendous Une, es of his knights, the bUiid the " fortune of France." !8 of his crest weie assumed st trophies of that glorious caster, John of Gaunt, would willingly have seen the .king his nephew married to his daughter, whom he had by the lady Blanche of Lancaster ; but it was thought that the young lady was too nearly related, being the king's cousin-german. Sir Simon Burley, a sage and valiant knight, who had been king Richard's tutor, and had bcsen much beloved by the prince of Wales his father, was deputed to go to Germany respecting the marriage with the emperor's sister. The duke and duchess of Brabant, from the love they bore the king of England, received his envoy most courteously, and said it would be a good match for their niece. But the marriage was not immediately con- cluded, for the damsel was young ; added to this, there shortly happened in England great misery and tribulation,"* by the calamitous insurrection of Wat Tyler. Richard II. was the sole surviving offspring of the gallant Black Prince and Joanna of Kent Bom in the luxurious South, the first accents of Richard of Bourdeaux were formed in the poetical language of Provence, and his infant tastes linked to music and song, — ^tastes which assimilated iU with the manijers of his own court and people. His mother and half-brothers, after the death of his princely father, had brought up the future king of England with the most ruinous personal indulgence, and unconstitutional ideas of his own infallibility. He had inherited more of his mother's levity than his father's strength of character ; yet the domestic affec> tions of Richard were of the most vivid and enduring nature, especially towards the females of his family, and the state of distress and terror to which he saw his mother reduced by the insolence of Wat Tyler's mob, was the chief stimulant of his heroic behaviour when that rebel fell beneath th^ sword of Walwortlj. When these troubles were suppressed, time had obviated the objection to the union of Richard and Anne. The young princess had attained her fifteenth year, and was considered capable of giving a rational consent to her own marriage j and after sending a letter to the council of England, saying she became the wife of their king with full and free will, " she set * Froissart. VOL. I. Q Q 'Jh v^ m ' ; II •'J'' 594 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. out/' says Froissart, "on her perilous journey, attended by the duke of Saxony and his duchess, who was her aunt, and with a suitable number of knights and damsels. They came through Brabant to Brussels, where the duke Wenceslaus and his duchess received the young queen and her company very grandly. The lady Anne remained with her uncle and aunt more than a month ; she was a&aid of proceeding, for she had been informed there were twelve large armed vessels, ftdl of Normans, on the sea between Calais and Holland, that seized and pillaged aU that fell in their hands, without any respect to persons. The report was current that they cruised in those seas, awaiting the coming of the king of England's bride, because the king of France and his council were very uneasy at Richard's German aUiance, and were desirous of breaking the match. Detained by these apprehensions, the betrothed queen remained at Brussels more than a month, till the duke of Brabant, her uncle, sent the lords of Kousselans and Bousquehoir to remonstrate with king Charles V», who was also the near relative of Anne. Upon which king Charles remar.ded the Norman cruisers into port j but he declared that he granted this favour solely out of love to his cousin Anne, and out of no regard or consideration for the king of England. The duke and duchess were very much pleased, and so were all those about to cross the sea. The royal ^ took leave of her uncle and aunt, and departed for .ssels. Duke Wenceslaus had the princess escorted with one hundred spears. She passed through Bruges, where the earl of Flanders received her very magnificently, and entertained her for three days. She then set out for Gravelines, where the earl of Salisbury Waited for her with five hundred spears, and as many archers. This noble escort conducted her in triumph to Calais, which belonged to her betrothed lord. Then the Brabant spearmen took their departure, after seeing her safely delivered to the Enghsh governor. The lady Anne stayed at Calais only till the wind became favourable. She embarked on a Wednesday morning, and the same day arrived at Dover, where she tarried to repose herself two days." . The young bride had need of some interval to compose L. AKNE OF BOHEMIA. 595 journey, attended by ho was her aunt, and iamsels. They came he duke Wenceslaus en and her company i with her uncle and id of proceeding, for ' large armed vessels, ais and Holland, that ' hands, without any ent that they cruised e king of England's iis council were very nd were desirous of B apprehensions, the re than a month, till lords of Rousselans ing Charles V., who I which king Charles but he declared that to his cousin Anne, he king of England, ileased, and so were yal -e took leave )i .ssels. Duke one hundred spears, of Flanders received her for three days. 16 earl of Salisbury id as many archers, ph to Calais, which '■ Brabant spearmen 3ly delivered to the I at Calais only till id on a Wednesday r, where she tarried iterval to compose herself, after her narrow escape from destruction. All our native historians notice the following strange fact, which must have originated in a tremendous ground-swell. " Scarcely," says the chronicler,* " had the Bohemian princ* ss set her foot on the shore, when a sudden convulsion of the sea took place, unaccompanied with wind, and unlike any winter storm ; but the water was so violently shaken and troubled, and put in such fiirious commotion, that the ship in which the young queen's person was conveyed was very terribly rent in pieces before her very face, and the rest of the vessels that rode in company were tossed so, that it astonished all beholders." The Enghsh parliament was sitting when intelligence came that the king's bride, after all the difficulties and dangers of her progress from Prague, had safely arrived at Dover ; on which it was prorogued, but first fimds were appointed, that with all honour the bride migLt be presented to the young king. On the third day after her arrival the lady Anne set forth on her progress to Canterbury, where she was met by the king's uncle Thomas, who received her with the utmost reverence and honour. When she approached the Blackheath, the lord mayor and citizens, in splendid dresses, greeted her, and, with all the ladies and damsels, both from town and country, joined her cavalcade, making so grand an entry into London, that the like had scarcely ever been seen. The gold- smiths' company , (seven score of the men of this rich guild) splendidly arrayed themselves to meet, as they said, the * Caesar's sister.' Nor was their munificence confined to their own persons; they ftulher put themselves to the expense of sixty shillings for the hire of seven minstrels, with foil on their hats and chaperons, and expensive vestures, to do honour to the imperial bride : and to two shillings further expense, "for potations for ths said minstrels."^ At the upper end of Cheapside was a pageant of a castle with towers, from two sides of which ran fountains of wine. From these towers beautiful damsels blew in the faces of the king and queen gold leaf; this was thought a device of extreme elegance and ingenuity : * Quoted by Milles. ' Herbert's History of the City Companies. Q Q 3 ' m ii I *=;. ^v J;. 'i :^f!; • 596 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 1-^ ^ they likewise threw counterfeit gold florins before the horses' feet of the royal party. i Anne of Bohemia was married to Richard II. in the chapel- royal of the palace of Westminster, the newly erected structure of St. Stephen. " On the wedding-day, which was the twentieth after Christmas, there were," says Froissart, " mighty feastings. That gallant and noble knight, sir Robert Namur, accom- panied the queen, from the time when she quitted Prague till she was married. The king, at the end of the week, carried liis queen to Windsor, where he kept open and royal house. They were very happy together. She was accompanied by the king's mother the princess of Wales, and her daughter the duchess of Bretagne, half sister to king Richard, who was then in England sohciting for the restitution of the earldom of Richmond, which had been taken from her husband by the Enghsh regency, and settled in part of dower on queen Anne. Some days after the marriage of the royal pair they retm-ned to London, and the coronation of the queen was performed most magnificently. At the young queen's earnest request, a general pardon was granted by the king at her consecration.'" The afflicted people stood in need of this respite, as the execu- tions, since Tyler's insun'ection, had been bloody and barbarous beyond all precedent. The land was reeking with the blood of the unhappy peasantry, when the humane intercession of the gentle Anne of Bohemia put a stop to the executions. This mediation obtained for Richard's bride the title of ' the good queen Anne j' and years, instead of impairing the popu- larity, usually so evanescent in England, only increased the esteem felt by her subjects for this beneficent princess. Grand tournaments were held directly after the coronation. Many days were spent in these solemnities, wherein the Ger- man nobles who had accompanied the queen to England displayed their chivalry, to the great delight of the English. Our chroniclers call Anne of Bohemia ' the beauteous queen.' At fifteen or sixteen a blooming German girl is a very pleasing object ; but her beauty must have been hmited to stature and complexion, for the features of her statue are homely and un- * TyrrclL Walsingham. Rymer. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. lis before the horses' ard II. in the chapel- iwly erected structure lich was the twentieth % " mighty feastings. )ert Namur, accora- le quitted Prague till of the week, carried en and royal house, accompanied by the id her daughter the ichard, who was then I of the earldom of her husband by the )wer on queen Anne. 1 pair they returned iieen was performed 's earnest request, a t her consecration."' ■espite, as the execu- >loody and barbarous king with the blood aane intercession of i to the executions, ie the title of 'the impairing the popu- only increased the ent princess, fter the coronation. i, wherein the Ger- queen to England ;ht of the Enghsh. } beauteous queen.* i is a very pleasing ited to stature and re homely and un- r. 597 dignified. A narrow, unintellectual forehead, a long upper lip, cheeks whose fulness increased towards the lower part of the face, can scarcely entitle her to claim a reputation for beauty. But the head-dress she wore must have neutralized the defects of her face in some degree. This was the homed cap which constituted the head-gear of the ladies of Bohemia and Hun- gary, and in this ' moony tire ' did the bride of Richard present herself to the astonished eyes of her female subjects.* Queen Anne made some atonement for being the importer of these hideous fashions by introducing the use of pins, such as are used at our present toilets. Our chroniclers declare that, previously to her arrival in England, the Enghsh fair fastened their robes with skewers, — a great misrepresentation, for even as early as the Roman empire the use of pins was known, and British barrows have been opened wherein were found numbers of very neat and efficient Uttle ivory pins, which had been used in arranging the grave-clothes of the dead j and can these irreverent chroniclers suppose that Enghsh ladies used worse fastenings for then robes in the fourteenth century ? Side-saddles were the third new fashion brought into Eng- land by Anne of Bohemia: they were different from those used at present, which were invented or first adopted by Catherine de Medicis, queen of France. The side-saddle of Anne of Bohemia was like a bench with a hanging step, where both feet were placed. This mode of riding required a foot- man or squire at the bridle-rein of a lady's palfrey, and was chiefly used in processions. According to the fashion of the age, the young queen had a device, which all her knights were expected to wear at tournaments; but her device was, we think, a very stupid one, being an ostrich, with a piece of iron in his mouth.' * This cap was at least two feet in height, and as many in width j its fabric was built of wire and pasteboard, like a very wide-spreading mitre, and over these horns was extended some glittering tissue or gauze. Monstrous and outrageous were the horned caps that reared their heads in England directly the royal bride appeared in one. These formidable novelties expanded their wings on every side ; till, at church or procession, the diminished heads of lords and knights were eclipsed by their ambitious partners. The church declared they were 'the moony tire' denounced by Ezekiel, — likely enough, for they liad been introduced by Bohemian crusaders from Syria. ^ Camden's Eemains. It is possible this was not a device, but an armorial bearing, and bad some connexion with the ostricb plume the Black Prince took ! M f llifl;! iSi, ^ ■ 608 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. wia^f r, te II i :i i n' 1 At the celebration of the festival of the order of the Garter, 1384, queen Anne wore a robe of violet cloth dyed in-graiu, the hood lined with scarlet, the robe lined with fur. She was attended by a number of noble ladies, who are mentioned "aa newly received into the society of the Garter." They were habited in the same costume as their young queen.' The royal spouse of Anne was remarkable for the foppery of his dress : he had one coat estimated at thirty thousand marks. Its chief value must have arisen from the precious stones with which it was adorned. This was called apparel " broidered of stone."" Notwithstanding the great accession of luxury that followed this marriage, the daughter of the Csesars (as Richard proudly called his bride) not only came portionless to the English throne-matrimonial, but her husband had to pay a very handsome sum for the honour of calling her his own : he paid to her brother 10,000 marks for the imperial alliance, besides being at the whole charge of her journey. The jewels of the duchy of Aquitaine, the floriated coronet, and many brooches in the form of animals were pawned to the Lon- doners, in order to raise money for the expenses of the bridal. To Anne of Bohemia is attributed the honour of being the first in that illustrious band of princesses who were the nurs- ing-mothers of the Reformation.' The Protestant church inscribes her name at the commencement of the illustrious list, in which are seen those of Anne Boleyn, Katharine Parr, lady Jane Gray, and queen Elizabeth. Whether the young queen brought those principles with her, or imbibed them from her grandfather at Cressy. The dukes of Austria are perpetually called dukes of Ottrich by the English writers, as late as Speed. The device, perhaps, implied a pun on the English mode of pronouncing Austria, or Autriche, which name is derived from the eastern position of that country. ' See sir Harris Nicolas, History of the Order of the Garter. ' In this reign the shoes were worn with pointed toes of an absurd and incon- venient length. Camden quotes an amusing passage from a qu^t work, entitled Eulogium on the Extravagance of the Faahions of this Reign : " Their shoes and pattens are snowted and piked up more than a finger long, which they call • cracowes,' resembling the devil's claws, which were fastened to the knees with chains of gold and silver; and thus were they garmented which were lyons in the hall, and hares in the field." • Fox, the martyrologist, declares that the Bohemians who attended queen Anne first introduced the works of Wickliffe to John Huss : count Valerian Krasinski, in his recent valuable History of the Reformation in Poland, confirms this assertion from the records of his country. lA. :he order of the Garter Bt cloth dyed in-graii,: »ed with fur. Sheivas 8, who are mentioned »f the Garter." They eir young queen." Tlie for the foppery of Iiis omy thousand marks. te precious stones with apparel " broidered of cession of luxuiy that he Caesars (as Richard ae portionless to the usband had to pay a Uing her his own : he the imperial alliance, journey. The jewels I coronet, and many pawned to the Lon- tpenses of the bridal. ' honour of being the who were the nurs- e PiTotestant church 'nt of the illustrious 'yn, Katharine Parr V^hether the young ', or imbibed them na are perpetually called ^: . ^^e vas attempted, [ in its fury on the ey, the same knight 0 Prague, in solemn This unfortunate nan of liis age, had !Tie earl of Arundel ng Richard, that sir idst thou not say to we were in the bath Jurley deserved to be id did not I make ould suffer death?' ►rously took liis life ' king Richard, when er debt of vengeance a the cause of his bitter sorrow to the 1 it appears that the )eing left unpaid by ity ultimately led to ust have considered While the execu- ;hers of the king's hard and his queen e in the castle. A n the defeat of the rd, by the duke of broke. It was the Richard to receive same to propose an sets : two days and or in tlio year 1389 there irest cousin Philippa, wile nights did Richard remain inflexible ; till at last, by the per- suasion of Anne, the archbishop was admitted to the royal presence. " Many plans," says Froissart, " were proposed to the king ; at last, by the good advice of the queen, he re- strained liis cholcr, and agreed to accompany the archbishop to London." After the queen returned to London from Bristol, the pro- ceedings of that parliament commenced which has been justly termed by history 'the Merciless.* The queen's servants were the principal objects of its vengeance, the tendency to LoUardism in her household being probably the secret motive. It was in vain that the queen of England humbled herself to the very dust, in hopes of saving her faithful friends. King Richard in an especial manner instanced the undutifulness of the earl of Armidel to the queen,' who, he declared, " was three hours on her knees before this earl, pleading vnth. tears for the life of John Calverley, one of her esquires." All the answer she could get was this, " Pray for yourself and your husband, for that is the best thing you can do, and let this request alone ;" and all the importunities used could not save Calverley 's life.' Indeed, the duke of Gloucester and his colleagues established a reign of terror, making it penal for any person to testify fidelity to the king or queen, or to receive their confidence. The duke of Ireland fled to the Low Countries, from whence he never returned during his life.' The intermediate time, from the autumn of 1387 to the spring of 1389, was spent by the young king and queen in a species of restraint. Eltham and Shene were the favourite residences of Richard and Anne, and in these palaces they chiefly sojourned at this time. The favourite summer palace of Anne was named, from the lovely landscape around it, Shene : tradition says that Edward the Confessor, delighting in the fair scenery, called it by that expressive Saxon word, signifying every thing that is bright and beauteous. The king had, during this interval, attained his twenty-second year; and his first question, on the meeting of his parliament, was, ' At the trial of Arundel. a State Trials, vol. i. ' King Richard had i.'s ho\y brought to England, and received it with remark* able ceremonials. !:1i- tf' jl f! i-hr i t ] .f & i-: 604 ANNE OP BOHEMIA. i-j^ :« I i. ;i l! i ■1 f : I " How old he was ?" And when they named the years he had attained, he declared that his ancestors were always con- sidered of age much earlier, and that the meanest of his subjects were of age at twenty-one j he therefore determined to shake off the fetters that controlled him. The scene was followed by a sort of re-coronation in St. Stephen's chapel, where the nobihty renewed their oaths to him ; and it was particularly observed that he kissed those with affection whom he considered as his adherents, and scowled on those who had been the leaders in the late insurrections. The king was always exceedingly attached to his uncle, the duke of Lancaster, but he had a strong wish to rid himself of his turbulent and popular cousin Henry, the eldest son of that duke, who was bom the same year as himself, and from infancy was his rivpl. On one occasion Henry had threatened the life of the king in the presence of the queen. " Thrice have I saved his life \" exclaimed king Richard. " Once my dear uncle Lancaster (on whom God have mercy) would have slain him for his treason and villany ; and then, O God of paradise ! all night did I ride to preserve him from death : once, also, he drew his sword on me, in the chamber of queen Anne."^ King Richard soon after bestowed on the duke of Lancaster the sovereignty of Aquitaine, probably with the design of keeping the son of that prince at a distance from England. The queen held a grand fsstival on this occasion. Part of the high ceremonial consisted in the queen's presenta- tion of the duchess of Lancaster with the gold circlet she was to wear as duchess of Aquitaine, while Richard invested his imcle with the ducal coronet ; but the investitm-e was useless, for the people of Aquitaine refused to be separated from the dominion of England. The king's full assumption of the royal authority was cele- brated with a splendid tournament, over which queen Anne presided, as the sovereign lady, to bestow the prize, — a rich ' This fray must have taken place in the year 1390, since Henry of Boling- broke withdrew at that period from England, in order to carry arms against some miconverted tribes on the borders of Lithuania, with whom the Teutonic knights were waging a crusade warfare.-Speed. Count Valerian Krasinski declares that the plain where the Enghsh prince encamped in Lithuania is still Dointed out bv the peasants. v- amed the years he •s were always con- le meanest of his lerefore determined 1. The scene was Stephen's chapel, > him; and it was nth affection whom I on those who had 5d to his uncle, the jh to rid himself of the eldest son of I himself, and from tiry had threatened 3 queen. "Thrice hard. " Once my mercy) would have d then, O God of f him from death: chamber of queen ed on the duke of probably with the it a distance from 1 on this occasion. queen's presenta- old circlet she was 3hard invested his titure was useless, leparated from the uthority was cele- hich queen Anne the prize, — a rich since Henry of Boling- to carry arms against itli whom the Teutonic nt Valerian Krasinski )ed in Lithuania is still ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 605 jewelled clasp to the best tenant or holder of the lists, and a rich crown of gold to the best of the opponents. Sixty of her ladies, mounted on beautiful palfreys, each led a knight by a silver chain to the tilting-ground at Smithfield through the streets of London, to the sound of trumpets, attended by numerous minstrels. In this order they passed before queen Anne, who was abeady arrived with her ladies: they were placed in open chambers,' richly decorated. The queen retired at dusk to the bishop of London's palace at St. Paul's, where she held a grand banquet, with dancing both before and after supper. During the whole of the tournament the queen lodged at the palace of the bishop of London.^ The queen's good offices as a mediator were required in the year 1392, to compose a serious difference between Richard II. and the city of London. Richard had asked a loan of a thousand pounds from the citizens, which they peremptorily refused. An Italian merchant offered the king the sam re- quired J upon which the citizens raised a tumult, and tore the unfortunate loan-lender to pieces. This outrage being fol- lowed by a riot, attended with bloodshed, Richard declared " that as the city did not keep his peace, he should resume her charters," and actually removed the com*ts of law to York. In distress, the city applied to queen Anne to mediate for them. Fortunately, Richard had no other favourite at that time than his peace loving queen, " who was," say the ancient historians, "very precious to the nation, being continually doing some good to the people; and she deserved a much larger dower than the sum settled on her, which only amounted to four thousand five hundred pounds per annum." The manner in which queen Anne pacified Richard is preserved in a Latin chronicle poem, written by Richard Maydeston, an eye-witness of the scene:' he was a priest attached to the court, and in favour with Richard and the queen. * They were temporary stands erected at Smithfield, in the same manner us on racing courses in the present times. * See col, Johnes' Notes to Froissart. ' Lately published by the Camden Society. Maydeston's narrative is fully confirmed by a letter from Richard, in the Fa>dera, wherein he declares, " he was reconciled to the citizens through the mediation of his dear wife the quecu." 606 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. J- M'i Through the private intercession of the queen, the king consented to pass through the city, on his way from Shene to Westminster-palace, on the 29th of August. When they arrived at Southwark the queen assumed her crown, which she wore during the whole procession through London : it was blazing with various gems of the choicest kinds. Her dress was likewise studded with precious stones, and she wore a rich carcanet about her neck ; she appeared, according to the taste of Maydeston, " fairest among the fair,'' and from the benign humiUty of her gracious countenance, the anxious citizens gathered hopes that she would succeed in pacifying the king. During the entry of the royal pair into the city their processions were separate. At the king's approach to London-bridge he was greeted by the lord mayor and other authorities, who were followed by a vast concourse of men, women, and children, every artificer bearing some symbol of his craft. Before the Southwark bridge-gate the king was pre- sented with a pair of fair wh'te steeds trapped with gold cloth, figured with red and white, and hung fiiU of silver beUs, — " steeds •such as Caesar might have been pleased to yoke to his car." Queen Anne then arrived with her train, when the lord mayor Venner presented her with a small white palfrey, ex- quisitely trained, for her own riding. The lord mayor com- menced a long speech with these words : *' 0 generous ofispring of imperial blood, whom God hath destined worthily to sway the sceptre as consort of our king !"• He then pro- ceeded to hint " that mercy and not rigour best became the queenly station, and that gentle ladies had great influence with their loving lords : moreover, he entered into a discussion on the merits of the palfrey presented to her by the city ; he commended its beauty, its docihty, and the convenience of its ambhng paces, and the magnificence of its purple housings." AfteT- the animal had been graciously accepted by the queen, she passed over London-bridge to its portal on the city side; but some of her maids of honour, who were follow- ing her in two wagons, or charrettes,' were not quite so ' These conveyances were neither more nor less than benched wagons, which were kept for the accomniodatiuu of the queen's maids of honour : the charrcttes ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 607 he queen, the king way from Shene to gust. When they I her crown, which hrough London: it oicest kinds. Her bones, and she wore eared, according to the fair,'^ and from eiiance, the anxious iicceed in pacifying I pair into the city king's approach to i mayor and other concourse of men, ng some symbol oi e the king was pre- ped with gold cloth, ilver bells, — " steeds yoke to his car/' oin, when the lord white palfrey, ex- 3 lord mayor com- Is : *' 0 generous 1 destined worthily !"• He then pro- ir best became the &d great influence ed into a discussion ler by the city ; he i convenience of its purple housings." pted by the queen, )ortal on the city who were follow- w^ere not quite so I benched wagons, which f honour : the charrettes fortunate in their progress over the bridge. Old London- bridge was, in the ^' ^eenth century, and for some ages after, no such easy defik. * a large influx of people to pour through: though not then encroached upon by houses and shops, it was encumbered by fortifications and barricades, which guarded the drawbridge-towers in the centre, and the gate-towers at each end. In this instance the multitudes rushing out of the city, to get a view of the queen and her train, meet- ing the crowds following the royal procession, the throngs pressed on each other so tumultuously, that one of the charrettes containing the queen's ladies was overturned, — lady rolled upon lady, one or two were forced to stand for some moments on their heads, to the infinite injury of their homed caps, all were much discomposed by the upset, and, what was worse, nothing could restrain the laughter of the rude, plebeian artificers ; at last the equipage was righted, the discomfited damsels replaced, and their charrette resumed its place in the procession. But such a reverse of horned caps did not happen without serious inconvenience to the wearers, which Maydeston very minutely particularizes. As the king and queen passed through the city, the prin- cipal thoroughfares were hung with gold cloth and silver tissue, and tapestry of silk and gold. When they approached the conduit at Cheapside, red and white wine played from the spouts of a tower erected against it ; the royal pair were ser\'ed " with rosy wine smiling in golden cups," and an angel flew down in a cloud, and presented to the king, and then to the queen, rich gold circlets worth several hundred pounds. An- other conduit of wine played at St. Paul's eastern gate, where was stationed a band of antique musical instruments, whose names alone will astound modem musical ears. There were persons playing on tympanies, mono-chords, cymbals, psalteries, and lyres ; zambucas, citherns, situlas, horns, and viols. Our learned Latinist dwells with much unction on the melodious were very gaily ornamented with red paint, and lined with scarlet cloth through- out. They are described in the household-books of royalty very minutely : they must certainly have been as jolting and uneasy as carriers' carts. 608 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 1 %l chorus produced by these instruments, which, he says, " wrapt all hearers in a kind of stupor." No wonder I At the monastery of St. Paulas the king and queen alighted from their steeds, and passed through the cathedral on foot, in order to pay their oflFeiings at the holy sepulchre of St. Erkenwald. At the western gate they remounted their horses, and proceeded to the Ludgate. There, just above the river bridge, — which river, we beg to remind our readers, was that deUcious stream now called Fleet-ditch, — was perched "a celestial band of spirits, who saluted the royal personages, as they passed the Flete-bridge, with enchanting singing and sweet psalmody, making, withal, a pleasant fiime by swinging incense-pots j they hkewise scattered fragrant flowers on the king and queen as they severally passed the bridge.'* And if the odours of that civic stream, the Fleet, at that time by any means rivalled those which pertain to it at present, every one must own that a fumigation was appointed there with great judgment. At the Temple barrier, above the gate, was the represen- tation of a desert inhabited by all manner of animals, mixed with reptiles and monstrous worms, or, at least, by their resemblances; in the background was a forest: amidst the concourse of beasts, was seated the holy baptist John,' point- ing with his finger to an agnus Dei. After the king had halted to view this scene, his attention was struck by the figure of St. John, for whom he had a pecuhar devotion, " when an angel descended from above the wilderness, bear- ing in his hands a splendid gift, which was a tablet studded with gems, fit for any altar, with the crucifixion embossed thereon." The king took it in his hand and said, " Peace to this city ! for the sake of Christ, his mother, and my patron St. John, I forgive every offence." Then the king continued his progress towards his palace, and the queen arrived opposite to the desert and St. John, when lord mayor Venner presented her with another tablet, Hkewise representing the crucifixion. He commenced liis ' Tlie Temple was then in possession of the Hospitallers of St. John. iV: -I !J' .y ANNE OP BOHEMIA. 609 ich, he says, " wrapt nder I J and queen alighted 3 cathedral on foot, oly sepulchre of St. lounted their horses, just above the river ur readers, was that , — was perched "a royal personages, as anting singing and it fiune by swinging rant flowers on the the bridge.*' And eet, at that time by it at present, every )pointed there with , was the represen- ^ of animals, mixed at least, by their forest: amidst the aptist John,' point- After the king had was struck by the pecuhar devotion, e wilderness, bear- js a tablet studded ucifixion embossed ad said, " Peace to er, and my patron owards his palace, ert and St. John, th another tablet, e commenced his allers of St. John. speech with these words : '^ Illustrious daughter of imperial parents ! Anne, — a name in Hebrew signifying ' grace,' and which was borne by her who was the mother of the mother of Christ, — mindful of your race and name, intercede for us to the king ; and as often as you see this tablet, think of our city, and speak in our favour." Upon which the queen graciously accepted the dutiful oflfering of the city, saying, with the emphatic brevity of a good wife who knew her in- fluence, " Leave all to me." By this time the king had arrived at his palace of West- minster, the great hall of which was ornamented with hang- ings more splendid than the pen can describe. Richard's throne was prepared upon the King's-bench, which royal tribunal he ascended, sceptre in hand, and sat in great majesty when the queen and the rest of the procession entered the hall. The queen was followed by her maiden train. When she approached the king, she knelt down at his feet, and so did aU her ladies. The king hastened to raise her, asking, — "What would Anna? Declare, and your request shall be granted." The queen's answer is perhaps a fair specimen of the way in which she obtained her empire over the weak but afiec- tionate mind of Richard ; more honeyed words than the fol- lowing, female blandishment could scarcely devise : " Sweet !" she replied, " my king, my spouse, my light, my life ! sweet love, without whose life mine would be but death ! be pleased to govern your citizens as a gracious lord. Consider, even to-day, how munificent their treatment. What worship, what honour, what splendid pubhc duty, have they at great cost paid to thee, revered king! Like us, they are but mortal, and Uable to frailty. Far from thy memory, my king, my sweet love, be their offences ; and for their pardon I supplicate, kneeUng thus lowly on the ground." Then, after some men- tion of Brutus and Arthur, ancient kings of Britain, — ^which no doubt are interpolated flourishes of good master Maydeston, the queen concludes her supphcatiou by requesting, " that the king would please to restore to these worthy and penitent plebeians their ancient charters and Hberties." — " Be satisfied. di/ a, 610 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. U i :_i 1 dearest wife/' the king answered; "loath should we be to deny any reasonable request of thine. Meantime, ascend and sit beside me on my tlwone, while I speak a few words to my people." He seated the gentle queen beside him on the throne. The king then spoke, and all listened in silence, both high and low. He addressed the lord mayor : " I will restore to you my royal favour as in former days, for I duly prize the expense which you have incurred, the presents you have made me, and the prayers of the queen. Do you henceforth avoid offence to your sovereign, and disrespect to his nobles. Pre- serve the ancient faith; despise the new doctrines unknown to your fathers ; defend the catholic church, the whole church, for there is no order of men in it that is not dedicated to the worship of God. Take back the key and sword ; keep my peace in your city, rule its inhabitants as formerly, and be among them my representative."' No further diflferences with the king disturbed the country during the hfe of Anne of Bohemia. It is probable, that if the existence of this beloved queen had been spared, the calamities and crimes of Richard's future years would have been averted by her mild advice. Yet the king's extravagant generosity nothing could repress ; the profusion of the royal household is severely commented upon by Walsingham and Knighton. StiU their strictures seem invidious ; nothing but partisan malice could blame such hospitahty as the following in a time of famine : " Though a terrible series of plagues and famine afflicted England, the king retrenched none of his diversions or expenses. He entertained every day six thousand persons, most of whom were indigent poor. He valued himself on surpassing in magnificence all the sovereigns in Europe, as if he possessed an inexhaustible treasure : in his kitchen alone, three hundred persons were employed; and the queen had a hke number to attend upon her service."^ "While Richard was preparing for a campaign in Ireland, * This reconciliation cost the city 10,000Z. From some allusions in the king's speech, there is reason to suppose that the riot had been imputed to the Wick- ^'®**^ » Walflingham. t r h should we be to jantime, asceud and ak a few words to im on the throne, silence, both high "I will restore to or I duly prize the mts you have made ou henceforth avoid 0 his nobles. Pre- doctrines unknown li, the whole church, lot dedicated to the d sword; keep my IS formerly, and be i 3turbed the country is probable, that if 1 been spared, the t years would have king's extravagant fusion of the royal y Walsingham and iious ; nothing but ty as the following 3 series of plagues etrenched none of led every day six idigent poor. He e all the sovereigns >le treasure : in his e employed; and n her service."^ ipaign in Ireland, e allusions in the king's imputed to the Wick- ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 611 'J which coimtry had revolted from his authority, his departure was delayed by a terrible bereavement. This was the loss of his beloved partner. It is supposed she died of the pesti- lence that was then raging throughout Europe, as her decease was heralded by an illness of but a few hours. Froissart says, speaking of the occurrences in England, June 1394: "At this period the lady Anne, queen of England, fell sick, to the infinite distress of king Richard and all her household. Her disorder increased so rapidly, that she departed this life at the feast of Whitsuntide, 1394;. The king and all who loved her were greatly afflicted at her death. King Richard was incon- solable for her loss, as they mutually loved each other, having been married young. This queen left »o issue, for she never bore a child.'* Anne of Bohemia died at her favourite palace of Shene : the king was with her when she expired. He had never given her a rival; she appears to have possessed his whole heart, which was rent by the most acute sorrow at the sudden loss of his faithful partner, who was, in fact, his only friend. In the frenzy of his grief, Richard imprecated the bitterest curses on the place of her death ; and, unable to bear the sight of the place where he had passed his only happy hours with this beloved and virtuous queen, he ordered the palace of Shene to be levelled with the ground.' The deep tone of Richard's grief is apparent even in the summons sent by him to the English peers, requiring their attendance, to do honour to the magnificent obsequies he had prepared for his lost con- sort. His letters on this occasion are in existence, and are addressed to each of his barons in this style : — " VeBT BEAB and FAITHFUIi CoUSIN,' " Inasmnch as our beloved companion, the queen, (whom God has hence com- manded,) will be btiried at Westminster, on Monday the third of August next, wo earnestly entreat that you (setting aside all excuses) will repmr to our city of ' The apartments where the queen died were actually dismantled, but Henry V. restored them. * The style of this circular will prove how much modern historians are mistaken who declare that king Henry IV. first adopted that form of royal address which terms all earls the king's cousins ; yet the authority is no less than that of Blackstone. This circular of his predecessor was not confined to earls. R R 2 \\^ 612 ANNE OP BOHEMIA. f .q i "-!4 London the Wednesday previous to the same day, hringfing with you our very dear kiniwoman, your conHurt, at the same time. " We desire that you will, the preceding day, accompany the corpse of our dear consort from our manor of Slione to Westminster ; and for this we trust wo may rely on you, as you desire our honour, and that of our kingdom. " Given under our privy seal at Westminster, the 10th day of June, 1394." From this document it is evident that Anne's body was brought from Shene, in grand procession, the Wednesday before the 3rd of August, attended by all the nobility of England, male and female; likewise by the citizens and authorities of London,' all clothed in black, with black hoods j and on the third of August the queen was interred. " Abun- dance of wax was sent for from Flanders for flambeaux and torches, and the illumination was so great that nothing was seen like it before, not even at the burial of the good queen PhiUppa : the king would have it so, because she was daughter of the emperor of Rome and Germany.'" The most memo- rable and interesting circumstance at the burial of Anne of Bohemia is the fact, that Thomas Arundel, afterwards arch- bishop of Canterbury, who preached her funeral sermon, in the course of it greatly commended the queen for reading the holy Scriptures in the vulgar tongue.' Richard's grief was as long-endming as it was acute. One year elapsed before he had devised the species of monument he thought worthy the memory of his beloved Anne, yet his expressions of tenderness regarding her pervaded his covenant with the London artificers employed to erect it. He took, withal, the extraordinary step of having his own monumental statue made to repose by that of the queen, with the hands of the effigies clasped in each other. Our portrait is taken 1 The Foedera cont^ns a circular from the king to the citizens, nearly umilar to the ahove. , Froissart. ^ Rapin, vol. i. 701. There is a great contradiction between Rapin and Fox, when alluding to this funeral sermon. Fox, in his dedication of the Anglo-Saxon Gospels to queen Elizabeth, in 1571, uses these words : — " Thomas Anmdel, arch- bishop, at the flmeral oration of queen Anne in 1394, did avouch, as Polydore Vergil saith, that she had the gospels with divers expositors, which she sent unto him to be verified and examined." Tliis is the direct contrary to Rapin's asser- tion J yet the whole current of events in Richard XL's reign strongly supports the assertion of the early reformers, that Anne of Bohemia was favourably inclined to them. Certain it is that her brother, king Wenceslaus of Bohemia, (though no great honour to the cause,) encouraged the Hussites in her native counti-y. nging with you our very npany the corpse of our und for thiB wo trust we of our kingdom, th day of June, 1394." Anne's body was n, the Wednesday all the nobility of ' the citizens and , with black hoods ; interred. " Abun- for flambeaux and t that nothing was of the good queen se she was daughter The most memo- be burial of Anne el, afterwards arch- funeral sermon, in een for reading the it was acute. One ecies of monument 3ved Anne, yet his •vaded his covenant rect it. He took, 8 own monumental en, with the hands ir portrait is taken le citizens, nearly similar between Rapin and Fox, ation of the Anglo-Saxon ' Thomas Armidel, arch- did avouch, as Polydore tors, which she sent unto ontrary to Rapin's asscr- I reign strongly supports ia was favourably inclined aus of Bohemia, (though in her native country. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 618 fifom tie queen's statue, which is of gilded bronze. Some plunderers tore off the crown when the venerable abbey- church was made a stable for the steeds of Cromwell's troopers at the death of Charles I. The loss of the head-dress gives a certain degree of forlomness to the resemblance of Anne of Bohemia. She, who used to appear in a homed cap half a yard in height, is forced to present herself with no other orna- ment than her own dishevelled tresses. Her robe has been very curiously engraved by the artist, with her device of ostriches and her husband's Plantagenet emblem of the open pods of the broom plant, which are arranged on her dress so as to form elegant borders. The skirts of her djess approach the form of the farthingale, which seems originally a German costume. The tomb of Anne was commenced in 1395 ; the indentures descriptive of its form are to be found in the Foedera. The marble part of the monument was consigned to the care of Stephen Loat, citizen and mason of London, and Henry Yevele, his partner. In the document alluded to above, occur these words : — "And also inscriptions are to be graven about the tomb, such as will be delivered proper for it." The actual in- scription is in Latin ; the sentiments are tender and elegant, and the words are said to be composed by the king himself: it enters into the personal and mental qualifications of Anne, like one who knew and loved her. The Latin commences — " Sub petra lata domina Anna jacot tumulata," &c. The following is a literal translation :* — " Under this stone lies Anna, here entombed, Wedded in this world's life to the second Richard. To Christ were her meek virtues devoted. His poor she freely fed from her treasures ; Strife she assuaged, and swelling feuds appeased, ^ Beauteous her form, her face surpassing fair. On July's seventh day, thirteen hundred ninety-four. All comfort was bereft, for through irremediable sickness She passed away into eternal joys." * There likewise hung a tablet, in Latin, on the hearse. Skelton has translated it in his usual vulgar jingle. As the more interesting epitaph is given, the tablet verses are omitted, but they may be seen in Stowe. /. 614 ANNE OP BOHEMIA. Eichard departed for Ireland soon after the burial of Anne, but his heart was still bleeding for the loss of his queen; although her want of progeny was one of the principal causes of the troubles of his reign, he mourned for her with the utmost constancy of affection. Frequently, when he was in his council-chamber at Dublin, if any thing accidentally recalled her to his thoughts, he would burst into tears, rise, and sud> denly leave the room.^ " The year of her death," says Walsingham, " was notable for splendid funerals. Constance duchess of Lancaster, a lady of great innocency of life, died then j and her daughter-in- law, the co-heiress of Hereford, wife of Henry of Bolingbroke and mother of his children, died in the bloom of Efe. She was followed to the tomb by Isabel duchess of York, second daughter to Pedro the Cruel, a lady noted for her oAcr-fineness and delicacy, yet at her death showing much penitence for her pestilent vanities. But the grief for all these dejiths by no means equalled that of the king for his own queen Anne, i whom he loved even to madness." The people of England likewise deeply regretted this benignant and peace-loving queen, and long hallowed her memory by the simple yet ex- pressive appellation of " good queen Anne."' * Burton's Irish History. ' A letter written by Anne of Bohemia is preserved in the arcliives of Queen's college, Oxford, in favour of learning. We have received this intimation from Mr. HalUwell, whose learned and intelligent labours in the Camden Society are well known. END OF VOL. I. /'f . ^^, i ,,.^v -Awi**,, t i^^jitjM'^ ■ «tA'-< ' SMvill and Edwards, Printers, 4, Uhandos Street, Covent Uarden. f -. .7 ,v,,"'^-'.-.wi:-'. i^. the burial of Anne, loss of his queen ; the principal causes 1 for her with the when he was in his iccidentally recalled tears, rise, and sud- U fham, " was notable )f Lancaster, a ladv d her daughter-in- !nry of Bolingbroke )Ioora oflife. She 388 of York, second 'or her over-fineness [;h penitence for her these deaths by no own queen Anne, people of England ; and peace-loving ■ the simple yet ex- wa n the archives of Queen's red this intimation from I the Camden Society are /ovent Usrdotu