U-^w X"^- ^^^
U 32.^4
HISTORY
FOR READY REFERENCE
FROM THE BEST
HISTORIANS, BIOGRAPHERS, AND SPECIALISTS
THEIR OWN WORDS IN A COMPLETE
SYSTEM OF HISTORY
FOR ALL USES, EXTENDING TO ALL COUNTRIES AND SUBJECTS,
AND REPRESENTING FOR BOTH READERS AND STUDENTS THE BETTER AND
NEWER LITERATURE OF HISTORY IN THE
ENGLISH LANGUAGE
iK/^"
jfk: LARNED
"WITH NUMEROUS HISTORICAL MAPS FROM ORIGINAL STUDIES AND DRAWINGS BY
ALAN C. REILEY
IN FIVE VOLUIVIES
VOLUME II— EL DORADO to GREAVES
SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
THE C. A. NICHOLS CO., PUBLISHERS
MDCCCXCV
'^'
•I
\':..2^' 197'1
''â– 'â– .â– , .i â– 'â– '
COPVKIOHT, 1894.
BV J. N. LARNED.
nt Rivertide Pteu, Cnmhridgt, Mats., XT. S. A.
Printed by U. 0. Uoughton <& Compcmy.
\
LIST OF MAPS.
Map of Europe at the close of the Tenth Century To follow page 1020
Map of Europe in 1768 To follow page 1086
Four maps of France, A. D. 1154, 1180, 1314 and 1360, To follow page 1168
Two maps of Central Europe, A. D. 843 and 888 On page 1404
Map of Germany at the Peace of Westphalia To follow page 1486
Maps of Germany, A. D. 1315 and 1866; of the Netherlands, 1830-1839; and
of the Zollverein, To follow page 154tt
LOGICAL OUTLINES, IN COLORS.
English history, To follow page 780
French history, To follow page 1158
German history, To follow page 1428
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES.
The Fifth Century On page 1433
The Sixth Century, On page 1434
EL DORADO.
EI/.t^mCAL DISCOVERY.
EL DORADO, The quest o'.— "When the
Spiiiiiiinls hiul coiuiucri'd and pillaifed the civil-
ized empires on the table lands of Mexico, Bo-
gota, and Peru, they began to look round for
new scenes of conquest, new sources of wealth;
the wildest rumours were received as facts, and
the forests and savannas, extending for thou-
sands of s(juare miles to the eastward of the Cor-
dilleras of the Andes, were covered, in imagina-
tion, with pojiulous kingdoms, and cities tilled
with gold. The story of El Dorado, of a priest
or king smeaid with oil and then coated with
gold dust, probably originated in n custon. which
prevailed among the civilized Indians of the "pla-
teau of Bogota; but Kl I^orado was placed, by
the credulous adventurers, ii. a^'olden city amidst
the impenetrable forests of th,' centre of South
America, and, as search after search failed, his
position was moved further ind further to the
eastward, in the direction of Guiana. El Dorado,
the phantom god of gold and silver, appeared in
many fonns. . . . The sett'ers at Quito and in
Northern Peru talked of the golden emi)ire of
the Omaguas, while those in Cuzco and Char-
cas dreamt of the wealthy cities of Pa3'titi and
Enim, on the banks of a lake far awa^ to the
eastward of the Andes. These romantic fables,
so flrnily believed in those old days led to the
exploration of vast tracts of country, by the
fearless adventurers of the sixteenth century,
portions of which luv^ e never been traversed
since, even to this 'lay. The most famous
searches after El Dorc.do were undertaken from
the coast of Venezuela, and the most daring
leaders of these \\ik\ adventures were German
knights." — C. R. Mr.rkham, Introd. to Simon's
Account of the Erjx'dition of Ursua and Aguirre
(Ilakhtyt Soc. ISOIV — "There were, along the
whole coast of the Spani-sh Main, rumours of an
inland country v.hich abounded with gold.
These rumours ur.doubtedly related to the king-
doms of Bogota and Tunja, now the Nuevo
Reyno de Gnin.ida. Belalcazar, who was in
quest of thiscoimtry from Quito, Federman.who
came from Venezuela, and Gonzalo Ximenez de
Quesada, who sought it by way of the River
Madalena, and who efifected its coufjuest, met
here. But in t^iese countries also there were
rumours of a rich land at a distance; similar
accounts prevailed in Peru ; in Peru they related
to the Nuevo Reyno, there thej' related to F(TU :
and thus adventurers from both sides were allured
to continue the pursuit after the game was taken.
An imaginary kingdom "as soon shaped out as
the object of their quest, and stories concerning
it were not more easily invented than believed.
It was said that a younger brother of Atabalipa
fled, after the destruction of the Incas, took
with him the main part of their treasures, and
foimded a greater empire than that of which his
family had been deprived. Sometimes the im-
aginary Emperor was called the Great Partite,
sometimes the Great Moxo, sometimes the Enim
or Great Paru. An impostor at Lima affirmed
that he had been in his capital, the city of Ma-
noa, where not fewer than 3,000 workmen were
employed in the silversmiths' street; he even
produced a map of the country, in which he had
marked a hill of gold, another of silver, and a
third of salt. . . . This imaginary kingdom ob-
tained the name of El Dorado from the fashion
of its Lord, which has the merit of being in
savage costume. Ilis body was anointed every
morning with a certain fragrant gum of great
price, and gold dust was then blown upon him,
through a tube, till he wa.«i covered with it: the
whole was washed off at night. This the bar-
barian thought a more magnificent and costly
attire than could be affordecl by any other poten-
tate in the world, and I't-nce the Spaniards called
him El Dorado, or the Gilded One. A history
of all the expediti(ms which were imdertaken for
the coiujuest of his kingdom would form a vol-
ume not less interesting than extraordinary." —
R. Soutliey. IliHt. "f Jinizil, v. 1, c/i. r.J. — The most
tragical ai-d thrilling of the stories of the seekers
after P]l Dorado is that wliich Mr. Markham intro-
duces in the quotation above, and which Southcy
has told with full details in The Etjk dition of Or-
»uii; and the CriiiuH >f A;;inrre. The most fam-
ous of t!io expeditions were those in which Sir
Walter Raleigh engaged, and two f)f which he
personally leil — in lo95, and in 1(517-18. Re-
leased from his long imprisonment in the Tower
to undertake the lattir, he returned from it,
broken and shamed, to be sent to the scaffold as
a victim sacriticed to the malignant resentment
of Spain. How far Raleigh shan d in the delu-
sion of his age respecting El Dorado, and how
far he made use of it merely to promote a great
scheme for the "expan.sion of England," are
questions that will probably remain forever in
(lispute. — Sir W. Raleigh, Discovm'e of the L<ir(je,
Rich and Beautiful Empire of Ouiana (Ilakhtyt
Soc. 1848).
Also IX : J. A. Van Ileuvel, El Dorado. — E.
Edwards, Life of lialeigh, v. 1, ch. 10 and 25. —
P. F. Tytler, Life of Raleigh, ch. 3(f«d6.— E.
Gosse, Raleigh, ch. 4 and 9. — A. F. Bandelier,
The gilded man.
ELECTORAL COLLEGE, The Germanic:
Its rise and constitution. — Its secularization
and extinction. See Geu.m.^ny: A. D. 112.'>-
1152, and 1347-1493; also, 1801-1803, and 1805-
1806.
ELECTORAL COMMISSION, The. See
United St.vtks op Am. : A. D. 1870-1877.
ELECTORS, Presidential, of the United
States of Am. See Puesident of tue United
States.
♦
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY AND IN-
VENTION.— "Electricity, through its etymol-
ogy at least, traces its lineage bacli to Homeric
times. In the Odyssey reference is made to the
' necklace hung with bits of amber ' presented by
the Phoenician t-"ders to the Queen of Syra.
Amber wsis highly prized by the ancients, having
been extensively u.sed as an ornamental gem, and
many curious theories were suggested as to its
origin. Some of these, although mythical, were
singularly near the truth, and it is an interesting
coincidence that in the well-known myth concern-
ing the ill-fated and rash jouth who so narrowly
escaped wrecking the solar chariot and the terres-
trial sphere, amber, the first known source of elec-
tricity, and the thunder-lwlts of Jupiter are linked
together. It is not unlikely that this substance
was indebted, for some of the romance that clung
to it through ages, to the fact that when rul)bed it
attracts light bodies. This property it was known
to possess in the earliest times : it is tlie one single
experiment in electricity which has come down
to us from the remotest antiquity. . . . Tlje
power of certain lishes, notably what is known
as the 'torpedo,' to produce electricity, was
769
V
KLECTHICA L DISCOVEUY. Pranklm. ELECTRICAL DISCOVEUY.
known nt nn early period, and wr.s eommcnied
(in Jiy I'liny and Aristotle. . . . Up to tiie nix-
U-enlli jceiiturvl tiiere HeeinH to liiive lieen no
atlenijit to study electrical phenomena in a really
Beientill<' manner. Isolated faet.s which almost
tlirusl tlieniwlves njHin oliservers, were note<l,
itiid, in comnmn with a liohl of otlier natiiml
phenomcnii, were perni!ll<d to statHi ilone, witli
no attempt at classilication, L'eneralization, or
oxaminalion throiiuh e.\|i â– iiiii<-..t. . . . Dr. (Jil-
ImtI can justly lie called <lie eieator of the science
of electricity "and ma^'netism. llis expcrinuiits
were pro(liii;i<ius in inn. 'mt, ni I many of liis
conelnsions were correct lui Lisiin^r. To liim
we are indelitcd for the nani'J 'electric ily,' which
he licstowi'd tipon the power or )iroperty which
nndier e.vliibited in attracting liRlit bodies, lior-
rowinjr the nami' from the snhstance itself, in
onlcr to ditinc one of its attrihntcH. . . . Tins
aitplicatinii of experiment to tlie sttnly of elec-
tricity, lieuun liy Gilbert three hiintlred jears
a>,'o, was industriously jnirsued by those who
came after him, and the next two eenturies wit-
nes.sed a rapid dcveloptnf'iit of science. Among
the earlier students of this jxriod were the Eng-
lish philo.Kophcr, HobertHoyle, andtheeelebrated
burgomaster of Magdeburg, Otto von Guericke.
Tlie latter tirst noted the sound and light accom-
panying elecirical excitation. These were after-
wards independently discovered by Dr. Wall, an
Euglishnuui, who made the somewhat prophetic
observation, 'This light and crackling seems in
Bonie degree to represent tluuiderand lightning.'
Sir Isaac Newton made ii few experiments in
electricity, which he exhibited to the Hoj-al Ho-
ciety. . * . Francis Ilawksbee was an active and
useful contributor to experimental ifivi'f-'tigation,
and he also called attention to tlie resemblance
between the electric spark and lightning. The
most ardent stiulent of electricity in the early
years of the eighteenth century was Stephen
Gray. He performed a multitude of experiments,
nearly all of which added something tothe rapidly
accumulating stock of knowledge, but doidjtless
bis most imjiortant contribution was his discovery
of the distinction between conductors and non-
conductor.^. . . . Some of Gray's papers fell into
the hands of Dufay, nn ofllcer of the French
army, who, after seveml years' service, had re-
signed his post to devote himself to scientific
pursuits. . . . 1 lis mo.st important discovery was
the cxisteuce of two distinct species of electricity,
â– which he named 'vitreous' and 'resinous.'. . .
A very important advance was made in 1745 in
the invention of the Leydcn jar or phial. As
has so many times happened in the history of
sclent itic discovery, it seems tolerably certain
that this interesting device was hit upon by at
least three persons, working indepenilently of
each other. One Cimeus, a monk named Kleist,
and Professor ^Muschenbroeck, of Leyden, are all
accredited with the discovery. . . . Sir William
"Watson jierfected it by adding the outsiile metal-
lie coating, and was by its aid enabled to fire
gunpowder and other intlammables."— T. C.
]^Ienilcnhall, .1 Ceiituri/ of Ehrtrkit),', cli. 1.
A. D. 1745-1747.— Franklin's identification
of Electricity with Lightning.— " In 1745 Mr.
Peter t.'olliiison of the Uoyal Society .sent a
[Leyden] jar to tin; Library' Society of Philadel-
phia, with instructions how to use it This fell
Into the hands of Benjamin Franklin, who at
once began a series of electrical experiments.
7
On March 2S, 1747, Franklin began his famous
letters to Collinson. . . In these betters he pro-
lioim(le(i the single-fluid theory of electricity,
and referred all electric phenomena to Its accu-
nndation in bodies in (piantities more than their
natural share, or to its being withdrawn froni
then) sons to leavt them minus their proper por-
tion." Meantime, numerous experiments wuh
the Leyden jar had convinced Franklin of tho
identity of lightning and electricity, and he set
about the ilemoiistration of Uie fact. "The ac-
count given by Dr. Stidjcr of Philadelidiia, an
intimate jiersonal friend of Fraidvlin, and i)ub-
lished in one of the earlii'st editions of the works
of the great philosopher, is as follows: — 'Tho
jilan which he had originally projiosed was to
erect on some high tower, or other elevated
place, a sentry-box, from which should rise a
pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a
cake of resin. Eleetrilied clouds jiassing over
this would, he conceived, impart to it a portion
of their electricity, which would be rendered evi-
dent to the senses by sparks being emitted when
a key, a kiUK.kle, tir other conductor was pre-
sented to it. Philadelphia at this time olTered
no opnortuidty of trying nn experiment of this
kind. Whilst Franklin was waiting for the erec-
tion of a spire, it occurrred to him that he might
have more ready access to the region of clouds
by means of a common kite. He prepared one
by attaching two cross-sticks to a silk handker-
chief, whicii would not suffer so much from the
rain as pai»er. To his upright stick was fixed
an iron point. The string was, as usual, of
hemp, except the lower end, wliich was silk.
W^here the hempen string terminated, a key was
fastened. With this apparatus, on the appear-
ance of a thunder-gust approaching, he went
into the common, accompanied by his son, to
whom alone he communicated his intentions, well
knowing the ridicule which, too generally ioi
the interest of science, awaits unsuccessful ex-
periments in philosophy. lie placed himself
under a shed to avoid the rain. H's kite was
raised. A thunder-cloud pas?cd over it. No
signs of electricity appeared. lie almost de-
spaired of success, when stiddenly he observed
the loose fibres 01 his string move toward an
erect position. He now pressed his knuckle to
the key, and received a strong sp.trk. How ex-
quisite must his sensations have been at this
moment! On his experiment depended the fate
of his theory. Doubt and despair had begun to
prevail when the fact was ascertained in so clear
a manner, that even the most incredulous could
no longer withhold their assent. Itepeated
sparks were drawn from the key, a phial was
charged, a shock given, and all the experiments
made which are usually performed Avith elec-
tricity.' And thus the identity of Mghtning and
electricity was proved. . . . Franklin's proposi-
tion to erect lightning rods which would convey
the lightning to the ground, and so protect the
buildings to which they were attached, found
abundant opponents. . . . Nevertheless, public
opinion became settled . . . that they did pro-
tect buildings. . . . Then the philosophers raised
a new controversy as to whether the conductors
should be blunt or pointed ; Franklin, Cavendish,
and Watson advocating points, and Wilson blunt
ends. . . . The logic of experiment, however,
showed the advantage of pointed conductors; and
l>eoplc jjersisted then in preferring them, as they
70
ELECTHICAL DI8C0VEUY.
Oah<ani antl
I'ulta.
ELECTRICAL DISCOVEIIV.
Imvp (lone pv(;r Hincc." — P. Boiijiimin, Thr Age of
Klifirii'ity, fh. 'A.
A. D. 1753-1820.— The beginnings of the
Electric Telegraph. — "The first lutual supgi's-
tidii (if an clcclrK! tclcprHph was \\\w\v In an
nnonynious l«'tt( r published in tlir Scots Majja-
zine at E(linliurj,'li, February ITlh, 175:5. The
letter is initialed 'C. M.,' and many attenii)ls
have been made to discover the author's identity.
. . . Tilt; su.trgestions made in this letter were
that a set of twenty-six wires slionld be stretched
iipon insulated supports between tlie two phires
wlilcii it was desired to put in coimection, and at
each end of every wire 11 metallic ball was to be
Buspcnded, havinjjf under it a letter of the alpha-
bet inscribed upon a i)iece of jmper. . . . Tlie
nie.ssaKt; was to be read oil' at tlie receiving stii-
th)n by observing tlie letters whidi were succes-
sively attracted by tiieir corresponding balls, as
soon as the wires attached to the latter received
a charge from the distant conductor. In 1787
Monsieur Lomond, of Paris, made the very im-
portant stej) of reducing the twenty-six wires to
one, and indicating the diflcrent letters by various
combinations of simple movements of !in indi-
cator, consisting of a pith-ball suspended by
means of a thread from a conductor in contact
with the wire. ... In the year 1790 Chappe,
the inventor of the semaphore, or optico-meclian-
ical telegraph, which was in practical use pre-
vious to the introduction of the electric telegraph,
devised a means of communication, consisting of
two clocks regulated so that the second hands
moved in unis(/ii, and pointed at the same instant
to the same figures. ... In the early form of
the ifjiparatus, the exact moment at which the
observer at the receiving station should read oil
the figure to which the hand pointed was indi-
cated by means of a sound signal produced by
the primitive method of striliing a copper stew-
pan, but the inventor soon adopted the plan of
giving electrical signals instead of sound sig-
nals. ... In 1795 Don Fiancisco Salva . . .
suggested . . . that instead of twenty-six wires
being used, one for eacli letter, six or eight wires
only should be employed, each charged by a
Leydeu jar, and that different letters should be
formed by means of various combinations of sig-
nals from these. . . . Mr. (afterwards Sir Francis)
Ronalds . . . took up Ihf, subject of telegraphy
in the year 1816, and publislu^d an account of
his experiments in 1823," based on the same idea
as that of Chappe. . . . "Ronalds drew up u
sort of telegraphic code by which words, and .some-
times even complete sentences, could be trans-
mitted by only three discharges. . . . Ronalds
completely proved the practicability of his plan,
not only on [a] short underground line, . . . but
also upon an overhead line some eight miles in
length, constructed by carrying a telegraph wire
backwards and forwards over a wooden frame-
work erected in his garden at Hammersmith.
. . . The first attempt to employ voltaic electric-
ity in telegraphjr was made by Don Francisco
Salva, whose frictional telegraph has already
been referred to. On the 14th of May, 1800, Salva
read a paper on ' Galvanism and its application
to Telegraphy ' before the Academy of Sciences
at Barcelona, in which he described a number of
experiments which he had made in telegraphing
over a line some 310 metres in length. ... A
few years later he applied the then recent dis-
covery of the Voltaic pile to the same purpose,
the liberation of l)ubble:< of gas by \\\o d(^rom po-
sition (if water at Die receiving station U'lng the
method adoi)ted f(irindi(Hting the passagi! of the
signals. A telegraph of a very similar cliaracter
was devised by Sitmmering, and described in a
!iaper communicated liy llie inventor to the
Hunich Academy of Sciences in 1809. Siimmer-
ing used a set of thirty live wires eoiresponding
to tin twenty-live letters of the German alphabet
and llie ten numerals. . . . Oersteds (discovery
of the action of th(! electric current ui>on a sus-
pended magnetic U'cdle jirovided a new and
much more hopeful metlKxl of ajiplyingthe elec-
tric current to lelegraiiiiy. Tiie great French
astronomer Laplace appt"ars to have been the
first to suggest this apiilication of Oersted's dis-
covery, and he was followed sliortly afterwards
by Amix're, wlio in the year 1«20 read a paper
before the Paris Aca(h'my of Sciences." — G. \V.
De Tunzelmann, Ekctricity in Modern Life,
eh. 9.
A. D. 1786-1800.— Discoveries of Galvani
and Volta. — "The fundamental exjieriment
which led to the discovery of dynamical elec-
tricity [1780] is due to Galvani, profe.ssorof anat-
omy in IJolouna. (Jccupied with investigaticnis
on th(! inlluenct! of electricity on the nervous ex-
citability of animals, and esjiecially of tlie frog,
he observed that when tlie lumbar nerves of a
dead frog were connected witii the crural mus-
cles by a metallic circuit, the latter became
briskly contracted. . . . Galvani had some time
before observed that tlie electricity of machines
produced in dead frogs analogous contmctions,
and he attributed the phenomena fir.st described
to an electricity inherent in the animal. He as-
sumed that this electricity, which he called vital
fiuid, passed from the nerves to the nmscles by
the metallic arc, and was thus the cause of con-
traction. This the(}ry met with great support,
especially among physiologists, but it was not
without opponents. The most considerable of
these was Alexander Volta, professor of physics
in Pavia. Galvani's attention had been exclu-
sively devoted to the nerves and muscljs of the
frog; Volta's was directed upon the connecting
metal. Resting on the observation, which Gal-
vani had also made, that the contraction is more
energetic when the connecting arc is composed of
two metals than where thero is only one, Volta
attributed to the metuls the active part in the
phenomenon of contraction. He assumed that the
disengagement of electricity was due to their
contact, and that the animal parts only officiated
as conductors, and at the same time as a very
sensitive electroscope. By means of the then
recently invented electroscope, Volta devised
several modes of showing the disengagement of
electricity on the contact of metals. ... A mem-
orable controversy arose between Galvani and
Volta. The latter was led to give greater exten-
sion to his contact tlieory, and propounded the
principle that when two lieterogeneous sub-
stances are placed in contact, one of them always
assumes the positive and the other the negative
electrical condition. In this form Volta's theory
obtained the assent of the principal philosophers
of his time." — A. Ganot, Eleuientary Treatise on
Phydcs ; tr. by Atkinson, bk. 10, ch. 1. — Volta's
theorj', however, though somewhat misleading,
did not prevent his making what was probably
the greatest step in the science up to this time,
in the invention (about 1800) of the Voltaic pile,
77:
ELECTUICAL DIKCOVEUY.
and Ami>rrr.
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
tin- flm; LTfiMTiitdr of ilcctrlnil om-rKy by fhcml-
(111 minus, mill till- fiinriiniiirof thr viiat nunilKT
i>f ty|i(H<>f llir miKltrii "Imttiry."
A. D. 1810-1890. — The Arc li^ht.— "Tlic
«'iirliiHt InMtiiiHc nf ii|i|ilyiiij< Elcctruity to tin;
ppxliictiitii nf ll^rht WHS ill IHIO, !)>• Sir llum-
piin-y Diivy, wiio fuiind thut when the poit.tH of
two carlioii riMJs whose otlicrciulHwrriMoiiiuTtt'd
by wins with u powerful jmiimry Imtlery were
broii^lit iiitiMoiitiwf, ami tlien driiwri a lUtle way
apart, tlie Electric current still (•ontiiiued to jump
ncroHs the ^ap, formiiii; what is now termed an
Electric Ar". . . . Various ;(iiitrivances have
Ik'im divised i>ir automatically rcKulatiuj? the
position of tlie two carlions. As early as 1847, a
lamp was patented by Staite, in which thu car-
bon riKis were fed together by clockwork. . . .
Similar devices were produeeil by Foucault and
(ilhers, hut the lirst really successful arc lamp
was .Srrin's. patented in 1857, which has not only
Itself survived until the i)rc8entday, Imthashad
its main features reproduced in numy other
lamps. . . . The .lablochkolf Candle (187«), i»
which tlie arc was fortiu"'. uetwcen the ends of a
pair of carbon rods placed side by side, and 8cj>a-
rated by a layer of Insulating material, which
slowly consuincd as the carbons burnt down, did
cimhI service in accustoming the public to the new
llluminant. Since then the inventions by Brush,
Thomson Houston, and others have done much to
bring about its adoption for lighting large rooms,
Btreets, and si)aces out of dcMirs." — J. U. V'erity,
EUvtrieUji tip to Date for Light, Poiccr, and Trac-
tion, eh. ;i.
A. D. 1820-1825.— Oersted, Ampfcre, and the
discovery of the Electro-Magnet.— "There is
little chance . . . that the discoverer of the mag-
net, or the discoverer and inventor of the mag-
netic needle, will ever be known by name, or
that even the locality and date of the discovery
will ever be determined [sec Comp.\8«]. . . . The
magnet ami magnetism received their first scien-
tific treatment at the hands of Dr. Gilbert. Dur-
ing the two centuries succeeding the publication
of his work, the science of magnetism was much
cultivated. . . . The development of the science
went along parallel with that of the science of
electricity . . . although the latter was more
fruitful in novel discoveries and unexpected ap-
f)lications than the former. It is not to be imag-
ned that the many close resemblances of the two
cla8.ses of phenomena were allowed to pass un-
uoticed. . . . There was enough resemblance to
suggest an intimate relation ; and the connecting
link was .sought for by many eminent philoso-
phers during the last years of the eighteenth and
the earlier years of the present century." — T. C.
Mendenhall, A Century/ of Electricity, ch. o. —
" The effect which an electric current, tlowing in
a wire, can exercise upon a neighbouring com-
pass needle was discovered by Oersted in 1820.
This first announcement of the possession of
magnetic properties by an electric current was
followed speedily by the researches of Ampere,
Arago, Davy, and by the devices of several other
e.vperimenters, including De la Rive's floating
battery and coil, Schweiggcr's multiplier, Cum-
niing's galvanometer, Faraday's apjiaratus for
rotation of a permanent magnet, ^larsh's vibrat-
ing pendulum and Barlow's rotating star-wheel.
But it was not until 1825 that the electromagnet
was invented. Arago announced, on 25th Sep-
tember 1820, that a copper wire uniting the poles
7
of a voltaic roll, and conscfpieiitly traversed by
an electric current, could attract iron tilings to
itself laterally. In the same eommunicatioii ho
descrilM'd how he lad succeeded in communicat-
ing permanent magnetism to steel needles laid at
right angles to the copper wire, and how, on
showing this expi-riment to Ampere, the latter
had suggested that the magneti/ing action would
be more intense if for the straight copper wire
there were substituted one wrapped in a helix,
in the centre of which the steel needle niipht bo
placed. This suggestion was at once curried out
by the tw.) i)liilosophers. ' A copper wire wimnd
in a helix was terminated by two rectilinear por-
tions which could be adapted, at will, to the op-
posite poles of a powerful horizontal voltaic pile;
a steel needle wrai)i)ed up in paper was intro-
duced into the helix.' ' Now, after some minutes'
sojourn in the helix, the steel needle had received
a sullicientlv strong dose of magnetism.' Arago
then wouikI U|)on a little glass tube some short
helices, each about 2| inches long, coiled altern-
ately right-handedly and left-handedly, and
found that on introducing into the glass tube a
steel wire, he was able to produce ' c inseciuent
poles' at the places where the winding was re-
versed. Ampere, on October 2;ka, 1820, read a
memoir, claiming that these facts confirmed his
theory of magnetic actions. Davy had, also, in
1820, surrounded with temporary coils of wire
the steel needles upon which he was experiment-
ing, iwid had shown that the flow of electricity
around the coil coulil confer magnetic power
upon the steel needles. . . . The electromagnet,
in the form which can first claim recognitiou . . .
was devised by William Sturgeon, antlis described
by him in the paper which he contributed to the
Society of Arts in 1825."— S. P. Thompson, Tlie
Electromaf/iict, ch. 1.
A. D. 1825-1874.— The Perfected Telegraph.
— " The European philosophers kept on groping.
At the end of five years [after Oersted's discov-
ery], one of them reached an obstacle which he
made up his mind was so entirely insurmountable,
that it rendered the electric telegraph an impossi-
bility for all future time. This was [1825] iMr.
Peter Barlow, fellow of the Royal Society, who
had encountered the questiim whether the length-
ening of the conducting wire would produce any
effect in diminishing the energy of the current
transmitted, and had xuulertaken to resolve the
problem. . . . ' I found [he said] such a consid-
erable diminution with only 200 feet of wire as
at onco to convince me of the impracticability of
the scheme.'. . . The year following the an-
nouncement of Barlow's conclusions, a young
graduate of the Albany (N. Y.) Academy — by
name Joseph Henry — was appointed to the pro-
fessorship of mathematics in that institution.
Henry there began the series of scientific investi-
gations which is now historic. . . . Up to that
time, electro-magnets had been made with a
single coil of naked wire wound spirally around
the core, with large intervals between the strands.
The core was insulated as a whole: the wire was
not insulated at all. Professor Schweigger, who
had previously invented the multiplying galvano-
meter, had covered his wires with silk. Henry
followctl this idea, and, instead of a single coil of
wire, used several. . . . Barlow had said that
the gentle current of the galvanic battery became
so weakened, after traversing 200 feet of wire,
that it was idle to consider the possibility of
72
ELECTRICAL OISCOVEHY. The T,lfarn,,h. ELECTHICAL DISCOVEUY.
making It pnRH ovt-r cvi-n n niilo of rondiirtoriuul
tliiri uircf't It nmjfiict. Ilriiry's reply was to
point out tlmt tlic troubli- lay in the "way IJur
low's niUKiut was nnult'. . . . Mali*' the iiiu>,'n«'t
HO tiiat tliu <iiiniiiiHlu-(| ourrciit will cxcrciH)' itH
full cirt'Ct. Instead of usinj^ ono short coil,
throu^rli whicli tlio current can caHiiy Hlip, and
do nothing, make a coil of many turn's ; that in-
creatk's the magnetic field: malic it of line wire,
and of liiglicr resistance. And then, to prove
th" trutli of liis discovery, Henry put up the
first elect ro-magnctic telegraph ever constructed.
In th(! acadi^niy at Albany, in IHitl, lu- suspended
l.(MI() feet of lieli-wire, with a battery at on-! end
and one of his magnets at tlie other; and he
made the magnetattract and release its armature.
The armati re struck a bell, and so made the
signal.s. Annihilating distance in tliis way was
only one |)art of Henry's discovery. He had
also found, that, to obtain tlie greatest dynamic
effect close at hand, the batt«'ry suould l)e com-
pos<'d of a very few cells of large surface, com-
bined with a coil or coils of short coarse wire
around tiio magnet, — conditions just the reverse
of those necessary when the magnet, was to be
worked at a distance. Now, he argued, suppose
the magnet with tlie coarse short coil, and tlic
large-surface battery, be put at the receiving
station; and the current coming over ihe line be
used simply to make and break the circuit of tliat
local battery. . . . This is the principle of the
telegrapliic 'relay.' In 1835 Henry worked a
telegraph-line in tliat way at Princeton. And
thus the electro-magnetic telegraph was com-
pletely invented and demonstrated. There was
nothing left to do, but to put up the posts, string
the lines, and attach the instruments." — P. Ben-
jamin, The Age of Electncity, ch. 11. — "At hist
we leave the territory of theory and experiment
and come to that of practice. ' The merit of in-
venting the modern telegraph, and applying it
on a large scale for puldic use, is, beyond all
question, due to Professor ilorse of tlie United
States.' So writes Sir David Drewster, and the
best authorities on the question substantially
agree with him. . . . Leaving for future con-
sideration Morse's telegraph, which was not in-
troduced until fiv; years after tlie time when he
was impressed with tlie notion cf its feasibility,
we may mention tlie telegrapli of Gauss and
Weber of GOttingen. In 1833, they erected a
telegraphic wire between the Astronomical and
Magnetical Observatory of Giittingen, and the
Physical Cabinet of the LTniversity, for tlie purpose
of carrying intelligence from the one locality to
the other. To tliese great philosophers, however,
ratlier the tlieory than the practice of Electric
Telegraphy was indebted. Their apparatus was
so improved as to be almost a new invention by
Steinhill of Munich, who, in 1837 . . . succeeded
in sending a current from one end to tlie otlier of
a wire 3(5,000 feet in length, the action of which
caused two needles to vibrate from side to side,
and strike a bell at eacli movement. To Stein-
hill tiie honour is due of having discovered tlie
important and extraordinary fact that the earth
might be used as a part of the circuit of an
electric current. The introduction of the Elec-
tric Telegraph into England dates from the same
year as that in which Steinhill's experiments
took place. William Fothergill Cooke, a gentle-
man who held a commission in the Indian army,
returned from India on leave of absence, 'ind
7
afterwards, bccaus*- of his bad licalth, resign.-d
his commission, and went to lleidellMrgto siiidv
anatoTMy. In \K\{\, Professor .Mi^nke, of Heidtl
berg, exliiliited an electro-telegripliic experiment,
'in whiili electric currents, j)assing along a con-
ducting wire, conveved signals to a distant station
Ity the deflexion of'^ a magnetic needle enclosed
in Schweigger's galvanometer or multiplier.' . . .
Cooke was so struck with this experiment, that
lie immediately resolved to apply it to purposes
of higher utility than tlie illustraJion of a lecture.
. . . Ill a short time he produced two telf grajilis
of dilTereiit construction. When his plans were
completed, lie came to England, and in Febrii.i' y,
lb37, having consulted Faraday and Dr. Uui;<t
on the construction of the electrieiiiagnet em-
ployed in a part of liis apparatus, tlie latter gen-
tleman advised him to apfdy to Pn fessor Wlicat-
stone. . . . Tlie result of the nice iiig ol Cooke
and Wheatstone was that they resolved to unite
tlieir several discoveries; and in the month of
May 1837, they took out their first jiateiit 'for
improvements in giving signals and sounding
alarms in distant places ity means of electric cur-
rents transmitted through metallic circuits.' . . .
By-and-by, as might probably have liei n antici-
pated, dililculties arose between ('ook(! and
Wheatstone, as to whom the main credit of intro-
ducing the Electric Telegraph into England was
due. . . . Mr. Cooke accused Wheatstone (with
a certain amount of justice, it siiouid seem) of
entirely ignoring his claims; and in doing so Mr.
Cooke appears to have ratlier exaggerated his
own services. Most will readily agree to the
wise words of Mr. Sabine: ' It was once a jtopu-
lar fallacy in England that Messrs. (Jooke and
Wheatstone were the original inventors of tlie
Electric Telegraph. The Electric Telegraph had,
properly speaking, no inventor; it grew up as
we have seen little by little."— II. J. Nicoll, Great
Movements, pp. 424-429. — "In the latter part of
the year 1833, Samuel F. B. Morse, an American
artist, while on a voyage from France to tlie
United States, conceived tlie idea of an electro-
magnetic telegraph which should consist of the
following parts, viz: A single circuit of con-
ductors from some suitable generator of elec-
tricity ; a system of signs, consisting of dots or
points ail'' spaces to represent numerals ; a method
of causing the electricity to mark or imi>rint
these signs upon a strip or riblion oi paper by
the mechanical action of an electromagnet oper-
ating upon tlie paper by means of a lever, armed
at one end with a pen or pencil ; and a method of
moving the paper rilibon at a uniform rate by
mea"s of clock-work to receive tlie characters.
... In the autumn of the year 1835 he con-
structed the first rude working model of his in-
vention. . . . Tlic first pulilic exhibition . . .
was on the 2d of September, 1837, on wliicli oc-
casion the marking was successfully effected
througli one third of a mile of wire. Immediately
afterwards a recording instrument was con-
structed . . . which was subsecjuentiy employed
upon tlie first experimental line between Wasli-
iugton and Baltimore. This line was constructed
in 1843-44 under an appropriation by Congress,
and was completed by ilay of tlie latter year.
On tile 27tli of that month the first despatch was
transmitted from Washington to Baltimore. . . .
Tlie experimental line was originally constructed
with two wires, as Morse was not at that time
acquainted with the discovery of Steinlieil, that
73
ELECTRICAL DI8C0VKUV,
The Dy^mo. ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
the f'lirlh minlit l)e usimI to roinplf tf tlio cirruit. '
Accidi'tit. lixwcvcr, soon (Iciiioiistmtcd tliis <'iit'l. [
. . . Tlir followin.ir yt-ar (1!545) ulegraph lines
Ix'naii ti) he Imilt over other routes. . . . In Oc-
tober. IS.")!, !i eonveiition of deimties from the
German StatcH of Austria, I'russia, Havariu,
WUrtemberj,' aufi Saxony, met at Vieiiua, for the
purpose of e.stalilisliinu'ii coinnn n and uniform
telecrapliie .sv.sfem, under t lie name of the Ger-
nian-Austriat'i Telej:rai)h I'nion. The various
BysteniH of leleerajihy then in use were subjected
to the most thorou^'hCxaminationand discussl(m.
The convention decided with great unanimity
that the Morse system was j)raetieally far superior
to all others, and it was accordingly ado]>ted.
Prof. Stciiiheil, although himself '. . . the in-
ventor of a telegraphic system, with u magna-
nimity that d(X's him highlionor, strongly urged
upon the convention the adoption of the Aiueri-
tan system.". . . The tirst of the printing tele-
grai)hs was jiatented in the United States by
Royal E. House, in 18 tO. The Hughes printing
telegraph, a remarkable piece of mechanism,
was patenteil by David E. Hughes, of Kentm Ky,
in 1^55. A syst(>m known as the automatic
im ''.od, in which the signals -.-epresenting letters
tire transmitted over the line through the instru-
mentality of mechanism, was originated by
Alexander Bain of Edinburgh, whose tirst patents
were taken out in 18tfi. An autographic tele-
grai)h, transmitting despatches in the reproduced
hand-writingof the sender, was brought out iu
1850, by F. V. IJakewell, of London. The same
rcHult was afterwards accomplished with varia-
tions of methfxl by Clias. Cros, of Paris, Abbe
Caseli, of Florence, and others; but none of
these inventions has been extensively used.
"The possibility of making use of a single wire
for the simultaneous transmission of two or
more comnumications .seems to have first sug-
gest etl itself to Moses G. Farmer, of Boston,
about the year 1852." The jiroblem was first
solved with jvirtial success by Dr. Gintl. on the
line l)etween Prague and Vienna, in 1853, but
more perfectly by Carl Frischcn, of Hanover, in
the following year. Other inventors followed
iu thes.ime field, among them Thomas A. Edison,
of New Jersey, who was led by his experiments
finally, in 1874 to devise a system "which was
destined to furnish the basis of the first practical
solution of the curious and interesting problem
of (puulruplex telegraphy." — G. B. Prescott, Elec-
tririty and the Ehrtric ftlif/nipfi, rh. 29-40.
A. D. 1831-1872.— Dynamo-Electrical Ma-
chines, and Electric Motors. — "The di.scovery
of induction by Faraday, in 1831, gave rise to
the construction of magneto-electro machines.
The first of such machines that was ever made
was probably a machine that never came into
praciieal use, the description of which was given
in a letter, sigiu'd ' I*. M.,' and directed to Fara-
day, published in the Philosophical ^fugazine of
2nd August, 1832. AVe learn from this descrip-
tion that the essential i)art8 of «his machine were
six horsi'shoe magnets attached to a disc, which
rotiited in front oi six coils of wire wound on
bobbin.s." Sept. 3rd, 1832, Pixii constructed a
machine in which a single horse-slKw magnet
was made to rotate before tv.o soft iron cores,
wound with wire In this machine he introduceu
the commutJitor, an csst-ntial element in all uhhI-
ern contintious <urrent machines. "Almost at
the same time, Ritchie, Saxtou, and Clarke con-
structed 'hir machines. Clarke's is the best
known, i - still popular in the small and
portable ' 'al ' machines so commonly sold.
. . . A la T machine [was] constructed by
Stohrer (184.>„ on the same i)lan as Clarke's, but
w'th si.\ coils instead of two, and three con?
jiound magnets instead of one. . . . The machine,
constructed by Nollet (1849) and Shepard (1856)
had still more magnets and coils. Shepard's
machine was niv.dirted by Van Maldereu, and
was called the Alliance machine. . . . Dr. Wer-
ner Siemens, while considering how the inducing
elfect of the magnet can be most thoroughly
utilised, and how to arrange the coils in the most
eftlcient manner for this puri)o.se, was led in 1857
to devise the cylindrical armature. . . . Sinste-
den in 1851 pointed out that the current of the
generator may it.seU be utili.sed to excite the
magnetism of the field magnets. . . . Wilde [in
1863] carried out this suggestion by using a small
steel permanent magnet and larger electro mag-
nets. . . . The next great improvement of these
machines arose from the discovery of what may
be called the dynamo-electric principle. This
principle may the stated as follows: — For the
generation of currents by magneto-electric in-
duction it is not necessary that the machine
should be furnished with ]iermanent magnets;
the residual or temporary magnetism of soft iron
quickly rotating is sufficient for the purpose. . . .
In 1867 the principle was clearly enunciated and
used simultaneously, but independently, by
Siemens and by Wheatstoue. ... It was in
February, 1867, that Dr. C. W. Siemens' clas-
sical paper on the conversicm of dynamical into
electrical energy without the aid of permanent
magnetism was read before the Royal Society.
Strangely enough, the discovery of the same
l)rineiple was enunciated at the same meeting of
the Society by Sir Cliarles Wheatstone. . . .
The starting-point of a great improvement in
dynamo-electric machines, was the discovery by
Pacinotti of the ring armature ... in 1860. . . .
Gramme, in 1871, modified the ring armature,
and constructed the first machine, in which he
made use of the Gramme ring and the dynamic
principle. In 1872, Ilefner-Alteueck, of the
firm of Siemens and Ilalske, constructed a ma-
chine in which the Gramme ring is replaced by
a drum armature, that is to say, by a cylinder
round which wire is wound. . . .Either the
Pacinotti-Granune ring armature, or the Hefner-
Alteneck drum armature, is now adopted by
nearly all constructors of dynamo-electric ma-
chines, the parts varying of course iu minor de-
tails." The history of the dynamo since has
been one of a gradual perfection of parts, result-
ing iu the production of a great number of types,
which can not here even be mentioned. — A. R.
von Urbanitzky, Electricity in the Service of Man,
pp. 227-243.— S. P. Thomjison, Dynamo Electrical
Machincit. — Electric Motors. — "It has been
known for forty years that every form of elec-
tric motor which operated on the principle of
mutual mechanical force between a magnet and
a conducting wire or coil could also be made to
act as a genenitor of induced currents by the re-
verse operation of producing the mot'oiiinechan-
icall^v. And when, starting from the researches
of Siemens, Wilde, Nollet, Holmes and Gramme,
the modem forms of magneto-electric and dyna-
mo-electric machines began to come into com-
mercial use, it was discovered that any one of
774
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
Light
and Locvmot ton â–
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
the modern machines designed as a fienerntor of
currents constituted a far more efllcient electric
motor than any of tlie prevljus forms whicli had
been designed specially as motors. It required
no new discovery of the law of reversibility to
enable the electrician to understand this; but to
convince the world retivured actual experiment."
— A. Guillemin, Electricity and Maf/iietium, pt. 2,
ch. 10, sect. 3.
A, D. 1835-1889.— The Electric Railway.—
"Thomas Davenport, a poor blacksmith of Bran-
don, Vt., constructed what might be termed the
lii-st electric railwav. The invention was cruile
and of little practical value, but the idea was
there. In 183o he exhibited in Springfield, Mass. ,
a small model electric engine running upon a
circular track, the circuit being fumi.shed by pri-
mary batteries carried in the car. Three years
later, Robert Davidson, of Aberdeen, Scotland,
began his experiments in this direction. ... He
constructed quite a powerful motor, which was
mounted upon a truck. Forty battery cells, car-
ried on the car, furnished power to propel the
motor. Tile battery elements were composed of
amalgamated zinc and iron plates, the exciting
liquid being dilute sulphuric acid. This locomo-
tive was run successfully on several steam rail-
roads in Scotland, the speed attained was four
miles an hour, but this machine was afterwards
destroyed by some malicious person or persons
while it was being taken home to Aberdeen. In
1849 Moses Farmer exhibited an electric engine
â– which drew a small car containing two persons.
In 1851, Dr. Charles Grafton Page, of Salem,
Ma.s.s., perfected an electric engine of consider-
able power. On April 29 of that year the engine
was attached to a car and a trip was made from
Washington to Bladensburg, over the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad track. The highest speed at-
tained was nineteen miles an hour. The electric
power was furnished by one hundred Grove cells
carried on the engine. . . . The same year,
Thomas Hall, of Boston, Mass., built a small
electric locomotive called the Volta. The current
was furnished by two Grove battery cells which
were conducted to the rails, thence through the
wheels of the locomotive to the motor. This was
the first instance of the current being supplied
to the motor on a locomotive from a stationary
source. It was exhibited at the Charitable Me-
chanics fair by him in 1860. . . . In 1879, Messrs.
Siemen nnd Ilalske, of Berlin, constructed and
operated an electric railway at the Industrial Ex-
position. A third rail placed in the centre of
the two outer rails, supplied the current, which
was taken up into the motor through a slid-
ing contact under the locomotive. ... In 1880
Thomas A. Edison constructed an experimental
road near his laboratory in Menlo Park, N. J.
The power from the locomotive was transferred
to the car by belts running to and from the shafts
of each. The current was taken from and re-
turned through the rails. Early in the year of
1881 the Lichterfelde, Germany, electric railway
was put into operation. It is a third rail system
and is still running at the present time. This
may be said to be the first commercial electric
railway constructed. In 1883 the Daft Electric
Co. equipped and operated quite successfully an
electric system on the Saratoga & Mt. AIcGregor
Railroad, at Saratoga, N. Y. During the next
five or six years numerous electric railroads,
more or less experimental, were built. ' ' Octo-
ber 31, 1888, the Council Bluffs «fe Omaha Rail-
way and Bridge Co. was first operated by elec-
tricity, they using the Thomson-Houston sys-
tem. The same year the Thomson-Houston Co.
criuipped the Highland Division of the Lynn ic
Boston Horse Itailway at Lynn, Ma.ss. Horse
railways now begi.n to be equipind with elcctric-
itv all over the world, and esjieciallv in the
United States. In February, 1889, the Thomson-
Houston jlCleetric Co. had e(iuippe(l the line from
Bowdoin Scpiare, IJoston, to Harvard S(|U!ire,
Cambridge, of the West End Raihv.-iy witli elec-
tricity and operated twenty ears, since which time
it has increased its electrical apparatus, until now
it is the largest electric railway line in the world. "
— E. Trevert, Electric liailiray Engineering,
f!])]). A.
A. D. 1841-1880.— The Incandescent Elec-
tric Light. — "While the arc lamp is well adajited
for lighting large areas requiring a powerful,
diffused light, similar to sunlight, and hence is
suitable for outdoor illumination, and for work-
shops, stores, public buildings, and factories,
especially those where colored fabrics are pro-
duced, its use in ordinary dwellings, or for a
desk light in oflices, is impractical, a softer,
steadier, and more economical light being re-
cjuired. Various attempts to modify the arc-
light by combining it with the incandescent were
made in the earlier stages of electric lighting.
. . . The first strictly incandescent lamp was in-
vented in 1841 by Frederick de Jlolyens of Chel-
tenham, England, and was constructed on the
simple principle of the incandescence produced
by the high resistance of a platinum wire to the
passage of the electric current. In 1849 Petrie
employed iridium for the same purpose, also
alloys of iridium and platinum, and iridium and
carbon. In 1845 J. W. Starr of Cincinnati first
proposed the use of carbon, and, associated with
King, his English agent, prtxlueed, through the
financial aid of the philanthropist Peabody, an
incandescent lamp. ... In all these early ex-
periments, the battery was the source of electric
supply; and the comparatively small current re-
quired for the incandescent light as compared
with that re(iuired for the arc light, was an argu-
ment in favor of the former. . . . Still, no sub-
stantial progress was made with either system
till the inventi(m of the dynamo resulted in the
practical development of both systems, that of
the incandescent following that of the arc. Among
the first to make incandescent lighting a prac-
tical success were Sawyer and IMan of New York,
and Edison. For a long time, Edison experi-
mented with platinum, using fine platinum wire
coiled into a spiral, so as to concentrate the heat,
and produce incandescence; the same current
producing only a red heat when the wire, whether
of i)latinum or other metal, is stretched out. . . .
Failing to obtain .satisfactory results from i)lati-
nuin, Edison *unicd his attention to carbon, the
superioritj' of which as an incandescent illumin-
ant had already been demonstrated; but its
rapid consumption, as shown by the Reynier
and similar lamps, being unfavorable to its use
as compared with the durability of platinum and
iridium, the problem was, to secure the 8Ui)erior
illumination of th_' carlxm, and reduce or pre-
vent its consumption. As this consumption was
due chiefly to oxidation, it was questionable
whether the superior illumination were not due
to the same cause, and whether, if the carbon
775
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY. The TeUphone. ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
wore inclosed in a jflnss globo. from which oxy-
gen was iliminiitcd, the sunn- illumimition could
In- obtained. Anotlur (lilliculty of (miuhI ning-
nitiiile was to obtain a 8utlici«ntly perfect va-
cuum, and maintain it in a hcrnutieally sealed
glolie incliisinjr the carlton, and at the same time
maintain electric connection with the generator
through tli'- gla.ss by a metal conductor, subject
to expansion and contraction different from that
of the glass, by tin change of temperature due
to till- i>as.sag<- of the electric current. Sawyer
and Man attcii)i)ted to solve this problem by fill-
ing tiie globe with nitrogen, thus preventing
combustion by eliminating the o.\ygcn. . . . The
results obtained by this metluKi, which at one
time attracted a great deal of attention, were
not sullicicntly satisfactory to become practical;
and Edison and others gave their preference to
!lu' vacuum method, and sought to overcome the
difhculties connected with it. The invention of
the mercurial air pump, with its subsequent im-
provements, nuide it possible to obtain a suf-
ficiently perfect vacuum, and the difliculty of
intrcMlilcing the current into the interior of the
globe was overcome by imbedding a tine plati-
num wire in the glass, connecting the inclosed
carbon with the external circuit; the expansion
and contraction of the platinum not differing
sutHciently from that of the glass, in so line a
win', as to impair 'he vacutim. . . . The car-
bons made by Edison under his first patent in
â– iH79, were obtained from brown paper or card-
board. . . . They were very fragile and short-
lived, and consequently were soon abandoned.
In 1880 he patented the process which, with
some modifications, he still adheres to. In this
process he uses tllamoiis of bamboo, which are
taken fnim the interior, libious portion of the
plant.'" — P. Atkitson, Ekvitntu of Electric Light-
inif, cfi. 8.
A. D, 1854-1866.— The Atlantic Cable.—
" <."yn i Field . . . established a company in
America (in 18.")4), which . . . obtained the right
of landing cables in Newfoundland for fifty years.
Soundings were made in 1856 between Ireland
and Newfoundland, showing a maximum depth
of 4,4(K) metres. Having sticceeded after several
attempts in laying a cable between Nova Scotia
and Newfoundland, Field founded the Atlantic
Telegraph Company in England. . . . The length
of the . . . cable [used] was 4,000 kilometres,
and was carried by the two ships Agamemnon
and Niagara. The distance between the two sta-
tions on the coasts was 2,640 kilometres. The
laying of the cable commenced on the 7th of
August, 1857, at Valentia (Ireland); on the third
day the cable broke at a depth of 3,660 metres.and
the exi>editiou had to return. A second expedi-
tion was sent in 1858; the two ships met each
other half way, the ends of the cable were joined,
and the lowering of it commenced in both direc-
tions; 141) kilometres were thus lowered, when a
fault in the cable was discovered. It had, there-
fore, to be brought on board again, and was broken
during the process. After it had been repaired,
and wiieii 476 kilometres had been already laid,
another fault wits discovered, which caused
another breakage; this time it was impossible to
repair it, and the expedition was again unsuccess-
ful, and had to return. In spite cif the repeated
failures, two ships were again sent out in tl";
same year, and this time one end of the ca' ic
was landed in Ireland, and the other at New-
fotmdland. The length of the sunk cable was
3,745 kilometres. Field's first telegram was sent
on the 7th of August, from America to Ireland.
The insulation of the cable, however, became
more defective every day, and failed altogether
on the 1st of September. From the experience
obtained, it was concluded that it was possible
to lay a trans-Atlantic cable, and the company,
after consulting a number of professional men,
again set to work. . . . The Great Ea.stcrn was
employed in laying this cable. This shij), which
is 21 1 metres long, 25 metres broad, and 16 metres
in height, carried a crew of 500 men, of which
120 were electricians and engineers, 179 mechan-
ics and stokers, and 115 sailors. The manage-
ment of all affairs relating to the laying of the
cable was entrusted to Canning. The coast cable
was laid on the 21st of July, and the end of it
was connected witli the Atlantic cable on the 28rd.
After 1,326 kilometres had been laid, a fault was
discovered, an iron w ire was found stuck right
"xross the cable, and Canning considered the mis-
chief to have been done with a malevolent pur-
pose. On the 2nd of August, 2,196 kilometres
of cable were sunk, when another fault was dis-
covered. While the cable was being repaired it
broke, and attemjits to recover it at the time were
all unsuccessful ; in consequence of this the Great
Eastern had to return without having completed
the task. A new company, the Anglo-American
Telegraph Company, was formed in 1866, and at
once entrusted Messrs. Glass, Elliott and Com-
pany with the construction of a new cable of
3,000 kilometres. Different arrangements were
made for the outer envelope of the cable, and
the Great Eastern was once more e({uipped to
give effect to the experiments which had just
been made. The new expedition was not only
to lay a new cable, but also to take up the end of
the old one, and join it to a new piece, and thus
obtain a second telegraph line. The sinking again
commenced in Ireland on the 13th of July, 1866,
and it was finished on the 27th. On the 4th of
August, 1866, the Trans-Atlantic Telegraph Line
was declared open." — A. R. von Lrbanitzky,
Ekctricity in the Service of Man, pp. 767-768.
A. D. 1876-1892.— The Telephone.— "The
first and simplest of all nuignetic telephones is the
Bell Telephone. " In "the first form of this instru-
ment, constructed by Professor Graham Bell, in
1876 ... a harp of steel rods was attached to the
poles of a jiermanent magnet. . . . When we sing
into a piano, certain of the strings of the instru-
ment are .set in vibration sympathetically by the
action of the voice with different degrees of
amplitude, and a sound, which is an approxima-
tion to the vowel uttered, is pro<luce(l from the
piano. Theory shows that, had the piano a
much larger number of strings to the octave, the
vowel sounds would be perfectly reproduced.
It was upon this principle that Bell constructed
his first telephone. The expense of constructing
such an apparatus, however, deterred Bell from
making the attempt, and he sought to simplify
the apparatus before proceeding "irther in this
direction. After many experiments with more
or less unsatisfactory results, he constructed the
instrument . . . which he exhibited at Philadel-
phia in 1876. In this apparatus, the transmitter
was formed by an electromagnet, through which
a current flowed, and a membrane, made of gold-
beater's skin, on which was placed as a sort of
armature, a piece of soft iroii, •whic'a thus
7'
ELECTRICAL DISCOVERY.
ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES.
vibrated in front of tlie electromagnet when tlie
membrane was tlirown into sonorous vibration.
... It is (juite clear that when we speak into a
Bell transmitter only a small fraction of the
energy of the sonorous vibrations of the voice
can be converted into electric currents, and that
these currents must be extremely weak. Edison
applied himself to discover some means by
which he could increase the strength of these cur-
rents. Elisha Gray had proposed to use the varia-
tion of resistance of a tine platinum wire attached
to a diaphragm dipping into water, and hoped
that the variation of extent of surface in contact
would so vary the strength of current as to re-
prwluce sonorous vibrations; but there is no
recf-rd of this experiment having been tried.
Edison proposed to utilise the fact that the resist-
ance of carbon varied under pressure. lie had
independently discovered this peculiarity of car-
bon, but it had been previously described by
Du Moncel. . . . The first carbon transmitter was
constructed in 1878 by Edison." — W. H. Precce,
and J. 3Iaier, T/ie Telephone, ch. 3-4. — In a pam-
phlet distributed at the Columbian Exposition,
Chicago, 1893, entitled " ExJdbit of the American
Bell Telephone Co.," the following statements are
made: "At the Centennial Exposition, in Phila-
delphia, in 1876, was given the first general pub-
lic exhibition of the telephone by its inventor,
Alexander Graham Bell. To-day, seventeen years
later, more than half a million instrnmcnts are in
daily use in the United States alont, six hundred
million talks by telephone are held every year, and
the htmian voice is carried over a distance of twelve
hundred miles without loss of sound or syllable.
The first use of the telephone for business pur-
poses was over a single wire connecting only two
telephones. At once the need of general inter-
communication made itself felt. In the cities
and larger towns exchanges were established and
all the subscribers to any one exchange were
enabled to talk to one another through a central
oftlce. Means were then devised to connect two
or more exchanges by trunk lines, thus affording
means of communication between all the sub-
scribers of all the exchanges so connected. This
work has been pushed forward until now have
been gathered into what may be termed one
great exchange all the important cities from
Augusta on the east to Milwaukee on the west,
and from Burlington and Buffalo on the north to
Washington on the south, bringing more than
one half the people of this country and a much
larger proportion of the business interests, within
talking distance of one another. . . . The lines
which connect Chicago with Boston, via New
York, are of copper wire of extra size. It is
about one sixth of an inch in diameter, and
weighs 435 pounds to the mile. Hence each cir-
cuit contains 1.044,000 pounds of copper. . . .
In the United States there are over a quarter of a
million exchange subscribers, and . . . these make
use of the tel/?phone to carry on 600,000,000 con-
versations annually. There is hardly a city or
town of 5,000 inhabitants that has not its Tele-
phone Exchange, and these are so knit together
by connecting lines that intercommunication is
constant." The number of telephones in use In
the United States, on the 2()th of December in
each year since the first introduction, is given as
follows: 1877, 5.187; 1878, 17,567; 187rf, 52,517;
1880, 133,380; 1881, 180,592; 1882, 237,728; 1883,
298,580; 1884, 325,574; 1885, 830,040; 1886. 853,-
518; 1887,380,277; 1888, 411,511; 1889,444,861;
1890, 483,790; 1891, 512.407; 1892, 552,720.
ELEPHANT, Order of the.— A Danish order
of knighthood instituted in 1093 by King Chris-
tian V.
ELEPHANTINE. See Egypt: The Old
E.MriHK Axi> TiiK Middle Empiue.
ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES, The.—
Among the ancient Greeks, " the mysteries were
a source of faifi and hope to the initiated, as are
the churches of modern times. Secret doctrines,
regarded as holy, and to be kept with inviolable
fidelity, were handed down in these brother-
hoods, and no doubt were fondly believed to
contain a saving grace by those who were ad-
mitted, amidst solemn and imposing rites, under
thv; veil of nndnlght, to hear the tenets of the
ancient faith, and the promises of blessings to
come to those who, with sincerity of heart and
pious trust, took the obligations upon them.
The Eleusinian mysteries were the most impos-
ing and venerable. Their origin extended back
into a mythical antiquity, and they were among
the few forms of Greek worship which were
under the superintendence of hereditary priest-
hoods. Thirlwall thinks that ' they were the re-
mains of a worship which preceded the rise of
the Hellenic mythology and its attendant rites,
grounded on a view of Nature less fanciful, more
earnest, and better fitted to awaken both philo-
sophical thought and religious feeling.' This con-
clusion is still further confirmed by the moral
and religious tone of the poets, — such as ^Eschy-
lus, — whose ideas on justice, sin and retribution
are as solemn and elevated as those of a Hebrew
prophet. The secrets, whatever they were, were
never revealed in express terms; but Lsocratea
uses some remarkable expressions, when speak-
ing of their importance to the condition of man.
'Those who are initiated,' says he 'entertain
sweeter hopes of eternal life'; and how could
this be the case, unless there were imparted at
Eleusis the doctrine of eternal life, and some
idea of its state and circumstances more compati-
ble with an elevated conception of the Deity and
of the human soul than the vague and shadowy
images which haunted the popular mind. The
Eleusinian communion embraced the most emi-
nent men from every part of Greece, — statesmen,
poets, philosophers, and generals; and when
Greece became a part of the Roman Empire, the
greatest minds of Rome drew instruction and
consolation from its doctrines. The ceremonies
of initiation — which took place every year in the
early avitunm, a beautiful season in Attica — were
a splendid ritual, attracting visitors from every
jiart of the world. The processions moving from
Athens to f^leusis over the Sacred Way, some-
times numbered twenty or thirty thousiind peo-
ple, and the exciting scenes were well calculated
to leave a durable impression on susceptible
nuiids. . . . The formula of the dismissal, after
the initiation was over, consisted in the mysteri-
ous wonls ' konx,' ' ompax ' ; and this is the only
Eleusinian secret that hns illuminated the world
from the recesses of the temple of Demeter and
Persephone. But it is a striking illustration of
the value attached to these rites and doctrines,
that, in moments of extrcmest peril — as of im-
pending shipwreck, or massacre by a victorious
enemy, — men asked one another, ' Are you in-
itiated ? ' as if this were the anchor of their hoi)es
777
ELhUSINI.\N MYSTERIES.
ELTEKEII.
for another life."— C. C. Felton, Grecrt; Ancient
and Mixhrit, c. 2, Urt. 10.—" TheEli'u^iiii.in iiys-
U-rifSfontiiiiii'd to lie <cl('l)rutO(I (itiriiig the wliolo
of the Hccoti.l lialf of the fotirtli century, till they
were jmt an end to hy the destruction of the tem-
ple Ht Kleusis, and Ity the devastation of Greece
HI the invnsionof the" Goths under .Marie in 'A'dTt"
(sec (toTiiH: A. D. .'JO.")).— W. Smith. Sotc to Gib-
boii'n Jtfrlinc niiil Fill/ "f the llmmin Empire, cJi. LM.
Ai.so 'n: I{. IJrown. TVc (Ireiit Dioin/niak Myth,
ch. «, met. 2.— J. J. I. von Dollinger, The Gentile
mill the .hir. hk. 3 (r. 1),— See. also, Ei.Kfsis.
ELEUSIS.— Kleusis was orif,'inally one of
the twelve confederate townshijis into which
Attica was siiifl to have been divided before the
time of Theseus. It " was advantaj,'eou.sly situ-
ated [about fourteen miles N. W. of Athen.s] on
n heijrht, at a small distance fnmi the shore of
an extensive bay, to which there is access only
through narrow channels, at the two extremities
of the island of Salamjs: its po.sititm was import-
ant, as commanding the shortest and most level
route by hind from Athensto the Isthmus by the
pass which leads at the foot of ilouut Cerata
along the shore to ilcgara. . . . Eleusis was
built at the eastern end of a low rocky hill, which
lies parallel to the sea-shore. . . . The eastern
extrenuty of the hill was levelled artilicially for
the reception of the Hierum of Ceres and the
other sacred buildings. Above these are the
traces of an Acropolis. A triangular space of
about .VK) yards each side, lying between the hill
and the shore, was occupied by the town of
Eleusis. . . . To those who approached Eleusis
from Athens, the sacred buildings standing on
the eastern extremity of the height concealed the
greater part of the town, and on a nearer ap-
proach jiresented a succession of magniflcent ob-
jects, well calcidated to heighten the solemn
grandeur of the ceremonies and the awe and rev-
erence of the Mystiu in their initiation. ... In
the plurality of enclosures, in the niagniflcence
of the pyla; or gateways, in the ab.sence of any
general .synunetry of plan, in the small auxiliary
temples, we recognize a great resemblance be-
tween the sacred buildings of Eleusis and the
Egyi)tian Hiera of Thebes and Philie. And this
rest inblance is the more remarkable, as the De-
meter of Attica was the Isis of Egypt. We can-
not suppose, however, that the plan of all these
buildings was even thought of when the worship
of teres was established at Eleusis. They were
the progressive creation of successive ages. . . .
Under the Roman Empire ... it was fashion-
able among the higher order of Romans to pass
some time at Athens in the study of philosophy
and to be initiated in the Eleusinian mysteries.
Hence Eleusis In-eame at that time one of the
most frequented places in Greece ; and perhaps
it was never .so populous as mider the emperors
of the first two centuries of o\ir a'ra. During the
two following centuries, its mysteries were the
chief support of declining polytheism, and almost
the only n'niainingbond of national union among
the Gn'cks; but at length the destructive visit of
the (Joths in the year ;{!)0, the extinction of
paganism and the ruin of maritime commerce,
left Eleusis deprived of every source of pros-
perity, except those which are inseparable from
Ls fertile plain, its noble bay, and its position on
the road from Attica to the Isthmus. . . . The
village still preserves the ancient name, no further
alteretl than is customary in Romaic conver-
sions."- W. yi. Leake, Topinjraphy of Athens,
T. 2: The Demi, xect. 5.
ELGIN, Lord. — The Indian administration
of. SeelM>i.\: A. D. 18()2-lST(i.
ELIS. — Elis was an ancient Greek state,
occupying the country on the western coast of
Peloponnesus, aiijoining Arcadia, and between
Mes.'^enia at the south and Achaia on the north.
It was noted for the fertility of its soil and the
rich yield of its tisheries. But Elis owed greater
importance to the inclusion within its territory
of the sacred ground of Olympia, where the cele-
bration of the most famous festival of Zeus came
to be established at an early time. The Elians
had acipured Olympia by conciuest of the city
and territory of Pisa, to wliich it originally be-
longed, and the presidency of the Olympic games
was always disputed with them by the latter.
Elis was the close ally of Sparta down to the year
B. C. 421, when a bitter quarrel arose between
them, and Elis suffered heavilv in the wars
which ensued. It was afterwards at war with
the Arcadians, and joined the ^Etolian League
against the Achuian League. The city of Elis
was one of the most splendid in Greece ; but little
now remains, even of ruins, to indicate its de-
parted glories. See, also, Olympic Qamks.
ELISII, The. See Lygfans.
ELIZABETH, Czarina of Russia, A. D.
1741-1761 Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia,
and the Thirty Years War. See Gkiimany;
A. I). 1018-1620; 1020; 1621-1623; 1631-1632,
and 1648 Elizabeth, Queen of England,
A. I). 1508-1003 Elizabeth Farnese, Queen
of Spain. See Italy: A. D. 1715-1735; and
Spain: A. D. 1713-1725, and 1726-1731.
ELIZABETH, N. J.— The first settlement
of. See New Jkksey: A. D. 1064-1067.
ELK HORN, OR PEA RIDGE, Battle of.
See United States of A.m. : A. D. 1862 (Janu-
auy — Maucii : Missouri— Akkansas),
ELKWATER, OR CHEAT SUMMIT,
Battle of. See United States of A.m. : A. D.
1801 (AforsT— Decembek: West Virginia).
ELLANDUM, Battle of.— Decisive victory
of Ecgberht, the West Saxon king, over the
Mercians, A. D. 823.
ELLEBRI, The. See Ireland, Tribes op
Early Celtic inhabitants.
ELLENBOROUGH, Lord, The Indian ad-
ministration of. See India: A. D. 1836-1845.
ELLSWORTH, Colonel, The death of.
See United States of Am. : A. D. 1861 (May:
Virginia).
ELMET. — A small kingdom of the Britona
which was swallowed up in the English king-
dom of Northumbria early in the seventh cen-
tury. It answered, roughly speaking, to the
present West-Riding of Yorkshire. . . . Leeds
' ' preserves the name of Loidis, by which Elmet
seems also to have been known. " — J. R. Green,
The Miikiurf of Eng., p. 254. #
ELMIRA, N. Y. (then Newtown).— Gen.
Sullivan's Battle with the Senecas. See
United States of Am. : A. D. 1779 (August —
September).
ELSASS. See Alsace.
ELTEKEH, Battle of. — A victory won by
the Assyrian, Sennacherib, over the Egyptians,
before the disaster befel his army which is
related in 2 Kings xix. 35. Sennacherib's own
account of the battle has been found among the
â– 78
ELTEKEH.
ENGLAND, A. I). 449-547.
Assyrian reconls. — A. II. Sayce, Fre»h Light
from the Ancient Monumcntii, c/t. 6.
ELUSATES, The. See Aquitaine, Tribkb
OF .VNTIENT.
ELVIRA, Battle of (1319). SeeSvALV: A. D.
137;J-146(t.
ELY, The Camp of Refuge at. See Eng-
land: A. I). 1()«9-1071.
ELYMAIS. SceELA.\r.
ELYMEIA. Stf Macedonia.
ELYMIANS, The. See Sicily: Eakly in-
nAUITANTS.
ELYSIAN FIELDS. See Canauy Islands.
ELZEVIRS. See Pkinting: A. D. 1617-
1080.
EMANCIPATION, Catholic. See Ireland:
A. 1). isil-ism
EMANCIPATION^ Compensated ; Pro-
posal of President Lincoln. Sec United
States ok Am. : A. 1). 18()2 (Mauch).
EMANCIPATION, Prussian Edict of. See
Gkk.maxy: a. I). 1807-1808.
EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATIONS,
President Lincoln's. See United States ok
Am. : A. D. 1863 (Septe.mber), and 1863 (Janu-
ary).
EMANUEL, King of Portugal, A. D. 149.1-
1521 Emanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy,
A. I). ir)r)3-irj8().
EMBARGO OF 1807, The American. See
United States of Am. : A. D. 1804-1809, and
1808.
EMERICH, King of Hungary, A. D. 1196-
1204.
EMERITA AUGUSTA. — A colony of
Roman veterans settled iu Spain, B. C. 27, by the
emperor Augustus. It is identified with modern
Merida, in Estremadura. — C. Merivale, Hist, of
the lioDians, ch. 34, note.
EMESSA.— Capture by the Arabs (A. D.
636). See Mahometan Conquest: A. D. 632-
639.
EMIGRES OF THE FRENCH REVO-
LUTION. See France: A. D. 1789-1791;
1791 (July— September); and 1791-1792.
EMITES, The. See Je%vs: Early Hebrew
history.
EMMAUS, Battle of. — Defeat of a Syrian
army under Gorgias by Judas Maccabaeus, B. C.
166. — Josephus, Antiq. of the Jews, bk. 12, ch. 7.
EMMENDINGEN, Battle of. See France:
A. 1>. 17S»(i (Aruu.— ()<toiier),
EMMET INSURRECTION, The. See
Ireland: A. 1). 1801-1803.
EMPEROR.— A title derived from the
Uoiniiii title Imperator. See I.mi'er.vtor.
EMPORIA, The. See Cartiiaoe, The
Dominion ok.
ENCOMIENDAS. See Slavery, Modern :
OK THE Indians; also, l{ErARTi.MiENTos.
ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT, The.
See IHEL.XND: A. 1). 1843-1848.
ENCYCLICAL AND SYLLABUS OF
1864, The. See Pai'acv: A. 1). 1864.
ENCYCLOPAEDISTS, The. — " French
literature had never been so brilliant as in the
second half of the 18th century. Bufloii, Diderot,
D'Alembcrt. Hous.seau, Duelos, Condillac, Ilel-
vetius, llolbaeh, Haynal, C'ondorcet, Mabl}*, and
many others adorned it, and the ' Encyeloinedia,'
which was begun in 1751 under the direction of
Diderot, became the focus of an intellcctunl in-
fluence which has rarely been eciualled. The
name and idea were taken from a work published
l)y Ephraim Chambers in Dublin, in 1728. A
noble preliminary discourse was written by
D'Alembert ; and all the best pens in France were
enlisted iu the enterprise, which was constantly
encouraged and largely assisted by Voltaire.
Twice it was suppressed by authority, but the
interdict was again raised. Popular favour now
ran with an irresistible force in favour of the
philosophers, and the work was brought to its
conclusion in 1771." — \V. Y.. H. Lecky, Iliiit. of
Enff. in the ISth Century, ch. 20 (0. 5).
Also in : J. Jlorley, Diderot and the Encyclo-
]w.diHt», ch. 5 (0 1). — E. J. Lowell, The Eve of t/ie
French liei'oliition, ch. 16.
ENDICOTT, John, and the Colony of
Massachusetts Bay. See ^Iassaciiusetts:
A. D. 1623-1629, and after.
ENDIDJAN, Battle of (1876). See Russia:
A. I). 1859-1876.
ENGADINE, The. Sec Switzerland:
A. D. 1396-1499.
ENGEN, Battle of (1800). Sec France:
A. D. 1800-1801 (ilAY— February).
ENGERN, Duchy of. See Saxony: The
Old Duciiy.
ENGHIEN, Due d'. The abduction and
execution of. See France: 1804-1805.
ENGLAND.
Before the coming of the English.— The
Celtic and Roman periods. See Britain.
A. D. 449-547.— The three tribes of the Eng-
lish conquest. — The naming of the country, —
"It was by . . . three tribes [from Xorthwestern
Germany], the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes,
that southern Britain was conquered and colo-
nized in the fifth and sixth centuries, according
to the most ancient testimony. ... Of the
three, the Angli almost if not altogether pass
away into the migration: the Jutes and the
Saxons, although migrating in great numbers,
had yet a great part to play in their own homes
and in other regions besides Britain ; the former
at a later period in the train and under the name
of the Danes ; the latter in German history from
the eighth century to the present day." — W.
Stubbs, Co7i8t. Hist, of England, v. 1, ch. 3. —
"Among the Teutonic settlers in Britain some
tribes stand out conspicuously ; Angles, Saxons,
and Jutes stand out conspicuously above all.
The Jutes led the way ; from the Angles the land
and the united nation took their name ; the Sax-
ons gave us the name by which our Celtic neigh-
bours have ever known us. But there is no
reason to confine the area from which our fore-
fathers came to the space which we should mark
on the map as the land of the continentsxl Angles,
Saxons, and Jutes. So great a migration is
always likely to be swollen by some who are
quite alien to the leading tribe ; it is always cer-
tain to be swollen by many who are of stocks
akin to the leading tribe, but who do not actually
belong to it. As we in Britain are those who
779
ENGLAND. A. I). 440-547.
The Jutvt.
ENGLAND, A. D. 449-473.
Kt.'iyf'il Ix'liinil lit the time of the wrnnd preat
inigmtioii of our people [to Aniericii], so I ven-
ture to l<N>k on till our Low Dutch kinsfolk on
the eontinent of Eiirope as those who stayed
beiilnd at the time of the first jjreat migration of
our i)eoph'. Our speeiul hearth and cradle is
doubtless to he found in the immediate inareh-
land of (Jermany and Denmark, but the great
common home of our peoj)le is to be looked on
as stretching along the whole of that long coast
where various dialects of the Low-Dutch t<mgue
are spoken. If Angles and Saxons came, wc
know that Frisians came al.so, and with Fri.sians
as an element among us, it is hardly too bold to
claim the whole Netherlands as in the widest
sense f)ld England, as the land of one part of the
kinsfolk who stayed behind. Through that
whole region, froin the special Anglian corner
far into what is now northeni France, the true
tongue of the ])eople, sometimes overshadowed
by other tongues, is some dialect or other of
that branch of the great Teutonic family which
is es,s«'ntially the same as our own speech. From
Flanders to Sleswick the natural tongue is one
which dilTers from English only as the historical
events of fourteen hundred years of separation
have inevitably made the two tongues — two dia-
lects, I should' rather say, of the same tongue —
to dilTer. From these lands we came as a people.
That was our first historical migration. Our
remote forefathers must have made endless
earlier migrations as parts of the great Aryan
body, as parts of the smaller Teutonic body.
But' our voyage from the Low -Dutch mainland
to the isle of Hritain was our first migration as a
people. . . . Among the Teutonic tribes which
settled in Britain, two, the Angles and the
Saxons, stood out foremost. These two be-
tween them occupied by far the greater part of
the land that was occupied at all. Each of these
two gave its name to the united nation, but each
gave it on dilTerent lips. The Saxons were the
earlier invaders; they had more to do with the
Celtic remnant which abode in the land. On
the lips then of the Celtic inhabitants of Britain,
the whole of the Teutonic inhabitants of Britain
were known from the beginning, and are known
still, as Saxons. But, as the various Teutonic
settlements drew together, as they began to have
common national feelings and to feel the need of
n common national name, the name whic'\ the_v
chose was not the same as that by which their
Celtic neighbours called them. They did not
call themselves Saxons and their land Caxouy;
they called themselves English and their land
England. 1 used the word Saxony in all serious-
ness ; it is a real name for the Teutonic pa "t of
Britain, and it is an older name than the name
England. But it is a name used only from the
outside by Celtic neighbours and enemies; it
was not used from the inside by the Teutonic
people themselves. In their mouths, as soon as
they took to themstdves a conunon name, that
name was English ; as soon as they gave their
land a ccmunou name, that name was England.
. . . And this is the more remarkable, because
the age when English was fully established as
the name of the people, and England as the name
of the land, was an age of Saxon suptemacy, an
age when a Saxon state held the headship of
England and of Britain, when Saxon kings grew
step by step to l>e kings of the English and lords
of the whole British island. In common use
then, the men of the tenth and eleventh centuries
knew them.selves by no name but English." —
E. A. Freeman, T/ie Englinh People in its Thrte
IIoiiu'» (h'ft >i riH to Aineriran AudienceH, pp. 30-
31, and 45-47). — See Angles and Jutes, and
S.XXONS.
A. D. 449-473.— The Becrinning of English
history.— The conquest of Kent by the Jutes.
— "In the year 44!i or 450 a band of warriors
was drawn to the shores of Britain bj' the usual
pledges of land and pay. The warriors were
Jutes, men of a tribe which has left its name to
Jutland, at the extremity of the peninsula that
projects from the shores of North-Germany, but
who were probably akin to the race that was
fringing the ojjposite coast of Scandinavia and
settling in the Danish Isles. In three ' keels ' —
so ran the legend of their conquest — and with
their Ealdormcn, llengest and Ilorsa, at their
head, these Jutes landed at Ebbstleet in the Isle
of Thanet. AVith the landing of llengest and
his war-band English history begins. ... In
the first years that followed after their landing,
Jute and Briton fought side by side; and the
Picts are said to have been scattered to the winds
in a great battle on the eastern coast of Britain.
But danger from the Pict was hardly over when
danger came from the Jutes themselves. Their
numbers probably grew fast as the news of their
settlement in Thanet spread among their fellow
pirates who were haunting the channel ; and with
the increa.se of their number must have grown
the difficulty of supplying them with rations and
pay. The dispute which rose over these ques-
tions was at lust closed by Hengest's men with a
threat of war." The threat was soon executed;
the forces of the Jutes were successfully trans-
ferred from their island camp to the main shore,
and the town of Durovernum (occupying the site
of modern Canterbury) was the first to experience
their rage. ' ' The town was left in blackened
and solitary ruin as the invaders pushed along
the road to London. No obstacle seems to have
checked their march from the Stour to the Med-
way." At Aylesford (A. D. 455), the lowest ford
crossing the Med way, ' ' the British leaders must
have taken post for the defence of West Kent ;
but the Chronicle of the conquering people tells
. . . only that Ilorsa fell in the moment of vic-
tory; and the flint-heap of Horsted which has
long preserved his name . . . was held in after-
time to mark his grave. . . . The victor}' of
Aylesford was followed by a political change
among the assailants, whose loose organization
around ealdormen was exchanged for a stricter
union. Aylesford, we are told, was no sooner
won than ' llengest took to the kingdom, and
yElle, his son. ' . . . The two kings pushed for-
ward in 457 from the Medway to the conquest of
West Kent. " Another battle at the passage of
the Cray was another victory for the invaders,
and, "as the Chronicle of their conquerors tells
us, the Britons ' forsook Kent-land and fled with
much fear to London.'. . . If we trust British
tradition, the battle at Crayford was followed by
a political revolution in Britain itself. ... It
would seem . . . that the Romanized Britons rose
in revolt under Aurelius Ambrosiauus, a descend-
ant of the last Bomau general who claimed the
purple as an Emperor in Britain. . . . The revo-
lution revived for a while the energy of the pro -
ince." The Jutes wtrc driven back into the Isie
of Thanet, and held there, apparently, for some
780
^ op
^ is Q - C .
7 B « S p
^•2 8 ^ '^ 5
S
03
o
o
n
Q
U
a
03
C3
o
a
'A
<
•n
'A
O
t-t
H
C
'A
O
O
O
Q
H
B
n
M
n
to
o
'A
H
73
m
O
8
e
•c
J -
is
c
-4-1 d.
i:
e!
C
Si
c
o ^
I
3
I
4
w
95
I
•4
o
a
V
r3
a
>.
-3
01
'â– B
o
S
to
a
o
a
as
K 4
3 :§
.a
3
a
3
•3
01 S"
t- ,a
â– a
o
a
a
o
u
3
Q
♦-»
0)
*
a
a
a
.3 ho
<t-t a
> 13
? o
o -3
a 3
a 5
91 .3
as :3
a O
fe "3
o
0)
is' .<
a
3
t
0>
-a
H
01
-3
a
"3
a
Ml
a
'a
bo
0>
rs
a
a
•3
*^
O)
bO
C
^j
a
a o
,2 c?
ta
to
a
ai
a
o
a
a
o
•3
a
eS
tn
a
o
u
OS
i ^
-3 to
a
OJ
u
0>
a
bo
a
0)
0)
o
01
-3
31
a
01
01
a
o
o
3S
o
a
'a*
•< a
^5
a
01
a
ss
Ph
•S
"bo
a
41
JS
*» c
J .£
.S â– ^
"bb =
a .
01
•3 .^
ei c
a
o
bO
a
a,
o
;=! o
01
"3
O)
•3
01
o
01
es
"3
a
eS
01
a
3*
£
01
XI
+j
â– c
e3
OS
£ bo
J eS
.=P ^
" Q
00 -^
a c
01 >-
bO .=
3 P
a
sS
en
a
9)
O
en
'3) ■£
01
d
01
a
bo
a
4->
u
01
>
CS
bo
o
a
o
93
•c
3
31
^ .ti
"O S
-3
a
o
bO
a
3
01
-3
a
5*
01 >a
<4-l O
o «
bo 3
.a ^
•3
^ K
a
a s .^
01
3 C
♦J
a ?".
"3 ^
bo rJ
01 ^
aj ^
ai
til
S -3
o S
ft ^
31
a
i
~ a
= o
— 0.
— 3
C *•
" fl
_ 3)
5 -3
... a
— a
I 0-
- 3)
>' "3
; I
2
31
bO.
fl
e -5 I' i
2 :.
ft c
31 s-
— 01
.slj
1 S ^i
li
s
q
s
•q
o
1 = 1-5
•- . c
^ = ^ =
•c ^ - •
Sees
â– = i *- C 5
o
u
3
•^3
8
3
1
a
3
ft
cT
o
a
-^
a
■3 —
.= -s
to -3
.2 d
to i
1 ^
eS 2
â– - o
o
5 2
'En •Q
1, g
â– 5 s
fl a
.2 S
'« S
S 3
a «
0}
J3
§ I „
•ti K V
13
a
«
e
â– 2 Tc
2 "^
â– a 5
a
o
a ^
J2 O
K -^ ^
.0
so
a
"3
a
"tn
a
W
e
a
73
a 3 2 H g
P!l "* 3 ►- »*
E
a
•T3
3
U
a
a
B
o
a
rs
a
o
tfl
.S S
sj s ;3
? 5
o
J
H
s
T3
o
a
>
eg
a
6
X —
I- — ;z:
■£ - t:
~ IS
a
3
r
!«
1
CO
a
a
i
•c
ft]
•n
•J)
^ ' ^ £
i 7 -g I oi
r i ? .S i
c -* a --- =
a ^ _
'? o
S
o
y
S3
fe s r = -
1^ •« - a s
^"=3 2
bo
3
.22 ;3 i;
.2
-3
a
:3
a -3
a -£
a
^ .2
2 rt
a
a
to
„ ■£ £
3 =
en O
a
o
E
a
*-
jj ", "a
CJ
i
C5
>
.5 t
to
a
o
o
.a
to"
tc
a
B
o
-a
o
o
to
a
a
a
to
^ ^
^r T3 "^. *-' 3
^
O
*r aj r#>
o
.0
5= a
E- 2
^1
a V]
ho —
35 ^
I ^
2
>
•>-
s*
â– ""
P
.— •
...
tn
â– 4-S
tr
4.J
rr
M
^
»*^
1
1
1
"u
1
c
a
S
a
A
-•-•
w 5 a
3
^ S. 5
o
3 IS
.^ a
S -r
f
II
â– cii ^-z :â–
ENGLAND, A. D. 440-473.
Tht Saxoni.
ENGLAND. A. D. 547-633.
vcors, with the help of the fitronjr fortrossos of
l{i(lil)or()Uv;h nnd Ucculvcr, jruiinlini; tlic two
inotitlis of the iiili't which ihcii jMirtcd Tlmmt
from the iiminliiiul. " In Jflr) liowrvcr the ju'lty
contlicts wliicli had gout' oniilonjr tlio sliori-H of
the Wantsum m\u\v way for n decisive Rtruggle.
. . . Tlie ovcrtlirow of tluj Hritons at Wippcil's-
fleet was 80 tcrrll)le tliat all hope of i)r('S(rvinK
tiie bidk of Kent seeniH from this moment to liave
been a1)andoned; and . . . no further struggle
disturbed the Jutes init8con(|uestand settlement.
It was only along its southern shore that the
Britons now held their ground. ... A final vic-
tory of tlie Jutes in 473 may mark the moment
when they reaciied the rich" jjastures which the
Homan engineers had reclaimed fmm Honmey
Marsh. . . . With this advance to the mouth of
the Weidd the work of llengest's men came to
an end ; nor did the Jutes from this time play any
important part in tlie attack on the island, for
their after-gains were lindted to the Isle of Wight
and a few districts on tlie Southampton AVater."
—J. R. Green, The Makiiig of EikjIhikI, ch. 1.
Also in: J. M. Lappenberg, Ilht. of Eiig.
viulir the Anf/lo-Sttxon Aiii;/M, v. 1. pp. 67-101.
A. D. 477-527. — The conquests of the Sax-
ons. — The founding of the kingdoms of Sus-
sex, Wessex and Essex. — "Whilst the Jutes
were ooncpiering Kent, their kindred took jiart In
the war. Ship after ship sailed from the North
Sea, filled witli eager warriors. The Sa.xons now
arrived — Ella and his three sons landed in the
ancient territory of the Kegni (A. I). 477-491).
The Britons were defeated with great slaughter,
and driven into the forest of Andreadc, whose
extent is faintly indicated by the wastes and
commons of the Weald. A general confederacy
of the Kings and ' Tyrants ' of the Britons was
formed agamst tlie invaders, but fresh reinforce-
ments arrived from Germany ; the city of Andre-
adcs-Ceastre was taken by storm, all its iuhabit-
nuts were slain and the buildings razed to the
f round, so that its site is now entirely unknown,
rom this period the kingdom of the South Sax-
ons was established in the person of Ella; and
though ruling only over the narrow boundary of
modern Sussex, he was accepted as the first of
the Saxon Bretwaldas, or Emperors of the Isle of
Britain. Encouraged, perhaps, by the good tid-
ings received from Ella, another band of Saxons,
commanded by Cerdic and his son Cynric, landed
on the neiglibouring shore, in the modern Hamp-
shire (A. D. 494). At first thev made but little
progress. They were opposed by th'3 Britons;
but Geraint, whom the Saxon Chroniclers cele-
brate for his nobility, and the British Bards extol
for his beauty and valour, was slain (A. D. 601).
The deatli of the Prince of the * "Woodlands of
Dyfnaint.'or Damnonia, may have been avenged,
but the power of the Saxons overwhelmed all
opposition ; and Cerdic, associating his son Cyn-
ric in the dignity, became the King of the terri-
tory which he gained. Under Cynric and his
son Ceaulin, the Saxons slowly, yet steadily,
gained ground. The utmost extent of their do-
minions towards the North cannot be ascertained ;
but tliey had conquered the town of Bedford:
and it was probably in consequence of their geo-
graphical position (A. D. 571) with respect to the
countries of the Middle and East Saxons, that
the name of the West Saxons was given to this
colony. The tract north of the Thames was soon
lost ; but on the south of that river and of the
53 Y
Severn, the Huccewiors of Cerdic. Kings of Wes-
sex, continued to extend their tiominions. Tlie
Hampshire Avon, which retains its old Celtic
name, signifying 'the Water,' seems at first to
have been their boundary. Beyond this river,
the British princes of Damnonia retaint il their
power; and It was long before the country as far
as the Kxe became a Haxon March-land, or bor-
der. Aiiout the time that the Saxons under Cer-
dic and Cynric were successfully warring against
th(! Hritons, another colony was seen to establish
itself in the territory or kingdom which, from its
geographical ])osit ion, obtained the name of East
Saxony; but whereof the <listrict of the Middle
Saxons, now Middlesex, formed a part. London,
as you well know, is locally included in Middle
Sa.xonv; and the Kings of Essex, and the other
sovereigns who afterwards ac(|uired the country,
certainly possessed many extensive rightsof sover-
eignty in the city. Yet, I doubt much whether
London was ever incorjiorated in any Anglo-
Saxon kingdom; and I think we must view it as
a weak, tributary, vassal state, not very well
able to resist tlie usurjiations of the supreme
Lord or Suzerain, i-Escwin, or Ercenwine, who
was the first King of the East Saxons (A. I). 527).
His son Sleda was married to Uicola, daughter
to Ethelbert of Kent, who afterwards appears as
the superior, or sovereign of the country; and
though Sleda was King, yet Ethelbert joined In
all important acts of government. This was the
fate of Essex — it is styled a kingdom, but It
never enjoyed any political independence, being
always subject to the adjoining kings." — F. Pal-
grave, Hist, of the Aufjlo tsixons, ch. 2. — "The
descents of [the West Saxons], Cerdic and Cyn-
ric, in 495 at the moutli of the Itchen, and a
fresh descent on Portche.ster in 501, can have
been little more than plunder raids; and though
in 508 a far more serioiis coufiict ended in the
fall of 5,000 Britons and their chief, it was not
till 514 that the tribe whose older name seems to
have been that of the Gewissas, but who were to
be more widely known as the West Saxons, actu-
ally landed with a view to definite conquest." —
J. It. Green, The Making of England, ch. 3. —
' ' Tlie greatness of Sussex did not last beyond
the days of its founder ^lle, the first Bretwalda.
Whatever importance Essex, or its offshoot, Mid-
dlesex, could claim as containing the great city
of London was of no long duration. We soon
find London fluctuating between the condition
of an independent commonwealth, and that of a
dependency of the Mercian Kings. Very differ-
ent was tlie destiny of the third Saxon Kingdom.
Wessex has grown into England, England into
Great Britain, Great Britain into the United
Kingdom, the United Kingdom into the British
Empire. Every prince who has ruled England
before and since the eleventh century [the mter-
val of the Danisli kings, Harold, son of Godwine,
and William the Concpieror, who were not of the
West Saxon house] has had the blood of Cerdic
the AVest Saxon in his veins. At the close of the
sixth century AVessex had risen to high import-
ance among the English Kingdoms, though the
days of its permanent supremacy were still far
distant." — E. A. Freeman, Jlist. of the Norman
Conq. of Eng., ch. 2, itect 1.
A. D. 547-'^33.— The conquests of the An-
gles. — The founding of their kingdoms. —
"Northwards of the East Saxons was established
the kingdom of the East Angles, in which a
81
KN(»LANI), A. I). 547-6:1:1.
Tht Anylm.
ENGLAND, A. D. nOT-ewS.
iiortlirm ami n soiitlKTn |M'i)i)|f (N'(ir(lir<>l<' himI
Hiitlifdlc) wtrr <llHlin>?iiiHln'il. If in pnilialilc
tliat, I'Vi'ii iluriiiK tlic last pcricxl of llir Uoiiiaii
»way. <««Tiimiis were mllliil in this part iif
Kritain ; a HiipiinHitidti thai ^'aiiis prolialtility
froiii sfvcral nld Saxmi hai;a.s, wliii h have nfiT-
»'iu«' til Kant AnjrliH at a ptTUxl aiitrrior t<> the
rnmitix of lli'ii^i'sl ami llorsa. The laiiil of tin?
(iyrwan, ronlaitiiiig l.'^iOO liidcM . . . rompriscd
tin* miirlilioiiriiij,' inarHJi (lUiricls of Kly and
Iliiiillii^donsliirc. almost hh far as Liiicolii. Of
till' KaMl Aii^'lcH \V» liwa, or WCwa, or iiiori! com-
nioidy Ills soil lITa, or WiilTa, from whom his
race drTivcd tliiir |ialroiiymic of rillii>,'s or
Wiifllnus, is ncordid as ihc llrst kiiiv:. The
m'iK'hlxiiirlti.t,' slaltH of Mtrcia ori^riiiatcd in Ihu
marsh distritlsof the LiiidiHWarc, or iidialiituiits
«if Miidscy (Liiidcsi^r), thi; northern part of l.iii-
colnshln.'. With tht'st; wcri! uidtcd tin- Middle
AnKlcH. Tlds kingdom, divided liy the Trent
into a northern and a southern portii>ii, ^'radually
exieniled itself to the borders of Wales. Among
the str * which it comprised was iUv litth; kinj,'-
dom of the llwiccaH, conterminous with the later
dio<'ese of Worcester, or the counties of Glouces-
ter, Worcester, and a jiart of Warwick. This
slate, tojjether with that of the llecanas, bore
the common (iennanic appellutioii of the land of
the .Ma>;esa'las. . . . The country to the north of
the HundaT had sulTend the most severely from
the inroads of the I'icts and Scots. It became
lit an early jariod separated into two Hritish
Btates, the names of which were retained for
some r«'nturies, viz.: Deifyr (Deoni rice), after-
wards Latini/.ed into Deira, extending from the
number to the Tyne, ami Herneich (Beornii
rice), afterwards Hernicia, from the Tyne to the
Clyde, lien? also the settlements of the German
mces a()pear anterior to the date given in the
conunon accounts of the first Anglian kings of
those territories, in the miihlle of tlie sixth cen-
tury." — J. M. Lapi)enberg, Jfint. of Eng. nudcr
the Anglo- SiTun h'iii(/M(T/ior]h), v. 1, pp. 112-117.
— The three Anglian kingdoms of Korthuinber-
Jand, Mercia and East Anglia, "are altogether
niueli larger than the Saxon and Jutish King-
doms, so you see very well why the land wiis
(•alle(l 'England' and not 'Saxony. ' . . . 'Sax-
onia' does occur now and then, and it was really
an older name than 'Anglia,' but it soon went
(juite out of tj.se. . . . But some say thai there
were either Jutes or Saxons in the >iorth of Eng-
land as soon or sooner than there were iu the
south. If so, there is another reason why tlie
Scotch Celts as well as the Welsh, call us Saxons.
It is not (uilikely that there may have been some
small Saxon or .Jutish settlements there very
earlv, l)ut the great Kingdom of Northumber-
laiul w as certainly founded by Ida the Angle in
547. It is more likely that there were some Teu-
tonic settlements there before him, becau.se the
Chronicle dcx's not say of him, as it does of Ilen-
gest, Cissa and t'erdic, that he came into the
land by the sea. but only that he began the
Kingdom. . . . You must fully tmderstand that
iu the old times Northumberland meant the
whole land north of the Iluniber, reaching as
fur as the Firth of Forth. It thus takes in part
of what is now Scotland, including the city of
Edinburgh, that is Emlwinesburh, the town of
the great Northumbrian King Eadwine, or Ed-
win [Edwin of Deira, A. I). 617-633]. . . . You
uiust not forget that Lothiau and all that part of
Scotland was |iart of Northundierland, and that
the iieople tiiere are really English, and still
speak a tongui- \«ldeh has clianged le.ss from tho
Old-Knglish than the tongue of any other part of
Kngland. And the leal Scots, the Gael in the
ilighlands, lall the I-owlanil Scots 'Sa.-ons,'
lust as much as they do the |i."ople of England
if.self. This Northumbrian Kingdom was (me of
the greatest Kingdoms in Enghind, but it was
often divided into two, lieornjcia [or liernicia]
and Deira, the latter of which answered pretty
nearly to Yorkshire. The chief cily was the old
Koman town of Elioraciim, which in Old-English
is !v)for\vic, and w hich we cut short into York.
York was for a long time the greatest town in
the North of England. There are now inany
others much larger, but YorK is still the second
cily in England in rank, and it gives its chief
magistrate the title of Lord-Mayor, as London
does, while in other cities and towns the chief
magistrate is merely the Mayor, without any
f^ord. . . . The great Anglian Kingdom of the
Mercians, that is the Marchmen, the people on
the inarch or frontier, seems to have been the
youngest of all, and to have grown up gradually
by joining together .several smaller states, inclmf-
iiig all the land which the WestSaxc-is had held
north of the Thames. Such little tribes or states
were the Lindesfaras and the Gainas in liincoln-
shire, the Magestetas in Herefordshire, the Ilwie-
cas in Gloucester, Worcester, and part of War-
wick, and several others . . . When Jlercia
was fully joined under one King, it made one of
the greatest states in England, and some of the
Mercian Kings were very jjowerful jirinces. It
was chielly an Anglian Kingdom, and the Kings
were of an Anglian stock, but among the Ilwic-
cas and in some of the other shires in southern
and western Mercia, most of tho people must
really have been Saxons." — E. A. Freeman, Old
EikjUkIi Hist, for ChiUlirn, ch. 5.
A. D. 560. — Ethelbert becomes king of Kent.
A. D. 593. — Ethelfrith becomes king of
Northumbria.
A. D. ,597-685. — The conversion of the Eng-
lish. — "It happened that certain Saxon chil-
dren were to be sold for slaves at the market-
place at Rome ; when Divine Providence, the great
clock-keeper of time, ordering not only; hours,
but CM'U instants (Luke ii. 38), to his own
honoui', so disposed it, that Gregory, afterwards
first bishop of Rome of that name, was present
to behold them. It grieved the good man to see
the disproportion betwixt the faces and fortunes,
the complexions and conditions, of these children,
condemned to a servile estate, though carrying
liberal looks, so legible was ingenuity in their
faces. It added more to his sorrow, Avhen he
conceived that those youths were twice vassals,
bought by their masters, and 'sold under sin'
(Rom. vii. 14), servants in their bodies, and
slaves in their souls to Satan; which occasioned
the good man to enter into further inquiry with
the merchants (which set them to sale) what they
were and whence they came, according to this
ensuing dialogue: — Gregory. — ' Whence come
these captives 'i' ' Merchants. — ' From the isle of
Britain.' Gregory. — ' Are those islanders Chris-
tians?' IMcrchants. — 'O no, they are Pagans."
Gregory.— 'It is sad that the author of darkness
should possess men with so bright faces. But
what is the name of their particular nation?'
Merchants.—' They are called Angli.' Gregory.
782
ENGLAND. A. D, 807-6M. ChrisUanUu. ENGLAND, 6TII CENT ^'RY,
—'And w«'ll nmy, for tliclr "iinjrcl lik*- fiircH";
it ln'CDini'tli Hiicli to Ix' colicirs witli the uiixcIh
ill lii'uvcii. Ill wliiit priiviiici' of l-ji^iaiul did
tiicyliv*'?' Mrrcliuiits. — 'In Dcirii.' (Jrc^fory.
— 'Tlicy arc to he freed dc I>ei iru, "fnniitde
luiirer of Ood." Mow caii ye IIm! Idnj,' of t'lat
coiiiitry V' Merciiaiits. — ' Klla.' (Irej^ory. —
'Surely lialleliijali oiifjlit to lie sunK in liis Itintr
(loin to tlie praise of that (iod who created all
tliitijTH.' Thus (Jre^^ory's gracious heart set tlie
Bound of every word to the time of spiritual
ftoodiiess. Nor can liis words l)e Justly censured
For levity, if we consider how, in Unit am; the
t'lepuice of poetry consisted in rhytiini, iiikI the
floiiuence of prose in allusions. Ani^which v.as
the main, where his pleasant conceits did eiul,
there his pious endeavours bejtan; which did
not terminate in a verbal jest, but iiroduce real
olfects, wliieli ensued hereupon." — Thomas Ful-
ler, T/if dhurrh Jlistorif of /Iriluiit, bk. "i, n-rt.
1. — In .WO the jrood Orcj^ory became Mishoii
of Home, or I'ojte. and si.x years later, still re-
taining; the interest awalvcned in him by the
captive Kiifrlish youth, he <lispatclied a band of
missionary monks to Hritain, witli their prior,
Augustine, at tlieir head. Once they turneil
back, nfErii,'litcd by what they heanl of tlie
ferocity of the new heathen nos.sessors of the
cnce-('hri.stian Island of Hritain; but Gregory
laid his commands upon them again, and in the
spring of r)()7 they crossed the chi. el from Gaid,
landing at Ebbslfeet, in the Isle of I'lianet, where
the .lutisli invaders had made their llrst land-
ing, a century and a half before. They found
Ethelbert of Kent, the most jiowerful of the
English kings at that time, already prejiared to
rc' ive them with tolerance, if not with favor,
tlirotigh the inlluence of a Christian wife —
(pieeii Bertlia, of tlic royal fanuly of the Franks.
The conversion and bajjtisni of the Kentisli king
nnd court, and tlie accejjtance of tlie new faith
by great numbers of the people followed quickl}'.
In November of the same year, ."iO?, Augustine
returned to Gaul to receive his consecration as
("Archbishop of the English," establishing the
Bee of Canterbury, with the primacy which has
remained in it to the present day. The East
Saxons were the next to bow to the cross and in
G04 a bishop, Mellitus, was sent to London.
This ended Augustine's work — and Gregory's —
for both died that year. Then followed an in-
terval of little progress in the work of the mis-
sion, and, afterwards, a reaction towards idolatry
which threatened to destroy it altogether. But
just at this time of discouragement m the south,
a great triumpli of Christianity was brought
about in Northumberland, and due, there, as in
Kent, to the inlluence of a Christian queen.
Edwin, the king, witli many of his nobles and
,his people, were baptised on Easter Eve, A. D.
027, and a new center of missionary work was
established at York. There, too, an appalling
reverse occurred, when Northumberland was
overrun, in 033, by Penda, tlie heathen king of
Mercia ; but the kingdom rallied, and the Chris-
tian Church was reestablished, not wholly, as be-
fore, under the patronage and rule of Rome, but
partly by a mission from the ancient Celtic
,Church, which did not acknowledge the suprem-
acy of Rome. In the end, however, the Roman
forms of Cliristianity prevailed, throughout
Britain, as elsewhere in western Europe. Before
the end of the 7th century the religion of the
CroHS wn« rHtuhllshcd (Irmly in all nartu of the
island, the South Saxons being the latest to re-
ceive it. In tin- Sih ccnturv English missioimricB
weri' laboring /.ealously for tlie cnnversion of
their Haxon and Frisian lirethren on the con-
tinent. — G. F. iMadear, Conrimon of the UV«<;
Tilt' L'lif/lin/i,
Al.so IN: The Venerable Ilede, Kci'lmnntifitl
IliKfoii/. — II. Soames, T/ir Amjln tiiJron Churth.
— R. ('. .b'tikins, Canttrhiiry, ch. 2.
Ead of the 6th Century.— The extent, the
li'aits and the character of the Teutonic con-
auest. — " Before the end of th<' Olh (■eiiliiry the
'I'eutunie dominion stretched from the (ierman
oe<an to the Severn, and from the English Ciian-
iiel to the Firth of Forth. 'I'lie northern part of
the island was still held by i'ictsand Scots, Celtic
tribes, whose exact ethnical relation to each
other liarilly concerns us. And the whole west
side of the island, including not only nuKlern
Wales, but the great Kingtlom of Stratliclyde,
Ktretching from Dumliarton to Chester, and the
great ])eniiisula conlaining Cornwall, Devon and
part of Soiiier.set, was still in the hands of inde-
liendent Britons. The struirgle had been a long
and severe one, and the natives often relainea
j)()s,session of a drfcnsilile district loiifj after the
surrounding country liad been occupied by tlu'
invaders. It is therefore probable that, at the
end of thcflth century and even later, there may
have been within the knglish frontier inacces.siblo
points where detached bodies of Welshmen still
retained a jirecarious independence. It is proba-
ble also thit, within ilie same froniier, there still
were Roman towtif, tributary to the coiKiuerors
rather than occupied by theih. But by tlio end
of the Cth century even these "xceptioiis must
have been few. The work of tlio Con(|uest, as a
whole, was accomplished. The Teutonic settlers
hadoccu|)ied by far the greater part of the terri-
tory which thev ever were, in tlu; strictest sense,
to occupy, 'i'lie complete supremacy of the
island was yet to be won; but that was to b<!
won, when it was won, by (juite anotlier process.
The Englisli Contjuest of Britain dilTered in sev-
eral important respects from every other settle-
ment of a Teutonic people within tlie limits of
the Roman Empire. . . . Tliough the literal ex-
tirpation of a nation is an impossibility, tlicre is
every reason to believe that the Celtic inhabitants
of tliose parts of Britain which liad become
English at the 0th century had Ix-en as nearly
extirpated as a nation can be. The women would
doubtless be largely spared, but as far as the male
sex is concerned, wc may feel sure that death,
emigration or personal slavery were the only
alternatives which the vaiupiished found at the
hands of our fathers. The nature of the small
Celtic element in our language would of itself
prove the fact. Nearly every Welsh word which
has found its way into English exi)res.ses some
small domestic matter, such as women and slaves
would be concerned with." — E. A. Freeman,
Hist, of the Normun Conquest of Knif., ch. 2, sect.
1. — "A glance at the map shows that the mass
of the local nomenclature of England begins
witli the Teutonic conquest, while the mass of
the local nomenclature of France is older than
the Teutonic conquest. And, if wc turn from
the names on the map to the living speech of
men, there is the most obvious, but the most im-
portant, of ai! facts, the fact that Englishmen
speak English and that Frenchmen speak French.
783
ENGLAND. 6TII CENTURY.
The Conq^test.
ENGLAND, A. D. 655.
Thnt is tn say, in Gmil thr; Hpccch of Ronio lived
throujfh tliirTeiitoni*' toniiui'st, while in IJritiiin
it pcrisluMl in tlic Teutonic eomiuest. if it liml
not passed awny Ixfore. And behind tiiis is the
fuct. very much less ol)vi(.us, u ixixnl deal less
imi>ortan"t. hut still verv iniiwrtant. that in Gaul
tongues iddcr than Latin live on only in corners
as mere survivals, while in Hritain, while Latin
has utterly vanished, a toni^ue older than Latin
still lives (HI as the common speech of an appre-
ciable part of the lami. Here then is the tinnl
res\dt open to our own eyes. Aim! it is a final
result which could not have come to pass unless
the Teutonic cnn()ue.st of Hritain had been some-
thini- of an utterly dilTerent character from the
Teutonic; c r'lestof Gaul— \adess the amount of
chauL'-e, of i.^ • 'ion, of havoc of every kind,
above all, of sla. _ 'er and drivint,' out of thee.x-
Istinir inhabitants, had iM'cn far greater in Britain
than it was in Gaul. If the Angles and Saxons in
Britain had been only as the Goths in Spain, or
even as the Franks in Gaul, it is inconceivable
that the final results shoidd have been so utterly
dilTerent in he two ca.ses. There is the plain
fact : (taul remained n Latin-speaking laud ; Eng-
land became a Teutonic-speaking land. The ob-
vious inference is that, while in Gaul the Teu-
tonic conquest led to no general disi)lacement of
the inhabitants, in England it did lead to such a
general displacement. In Gaid the Franks simply
settled among a subject people, among whom
they themselves were gradually merged; in
Britain the Angles and Saxons slew or drove out
the people whom they found in the land, and
settled it again as a new people." — II. A. Free-
man, 77«' Enylixh Peitple in its Three Homes
{Tjerturts to Amcncnn Audiences), pp. 114-115. —
"Almost to the close of the 6th ceiiturj* the
English conquest of Britain was a 'eer dispos-
session of the conquered people; a..<i, so far as
the English sw(,nt in these earlier days reached,
Britain became England, a land, that is, not of
Britons, but of Englishmen. There is no need
to believe that the clearing of the land meant the
general slaughter of the men who held it, or to
accotmt for such a slaughter by supposed differ-
ences between the temper of the English and
those of other conquerors. . . . The displace-
ment of the conquered people was only made
po.ssible by their own stubborn resistance, and
by the slow progress of the conquerors in the
teeth of it. Slaughter no doubt there was on the
battle-field or in towns like Anderida, whose long
defence woke wrath in their besiegers. But for
the most part the Britons cannot have been
slaughtereil; they were simply defeated and
drew back."— J. R Green, The Making of Eng-
land, ch. 4. — The view strongly stated above, as
to tlie tomidetencssof the erasure of Romano-
Britisli society and inllucnce from the wliole of
England except its southwestern and north-
western counties, by the English conquest, is
combuteil as strongly by another less prominent
8ch(x)l of recent historians, ri'presented, for ex-
ample, by Mr. Henry C. Coote {Th4'. Itomnns of
Svitnin) and by Jlr. Charles H. Pearson, who
says: "We know that fugitives from Britain
settled largely during the 5th century in Armor-
ica and in Ireland ; and we may perhaps accept
the legend of St. Ursula as proof that the flight,
in some instances, Wiis directed to the more civil-
ized parts of the continent. But even the pious
stor)* of the 11,000 virgins is sober and credible
l)y the side of that history which assumes that
some million men and women were slauglitered
or made homeless by a few ship-loads of con-
(pierors." — C. II. Pearson, Hist, of Eng. during
the Early and Middle Af/es, r. 1, ch. 6.— The
opinion maintained by Prof. Freeman and Mr.
(Jreen (and, no less, by Dr. Stubbs) is the now
generally accepted one.
7th Century.— The so-called " Heptarchy."
— "The old notion of an Heptarchy, of a regu-
lar system of seven Kingdoms, united under the
regular supremj'cy of a single over-lord, is a
<lream which has i)assed away before the light of
historic criticism. The English Kingdoms in
Britain were ever fluctuating, alike in their
number and in their relations to one another.
The number of perfectly independent states was
sometimes greater and son.etiines less than the
mystical seven, and, till the beginning of the
ninth centurj', the whole nation did not admit
the regular supremacy of any fixed and per-
manent over-lord. Yet it is no less certain that,
among the mass of smaller and more obscure
principalities, seven Kingdoms do stand out in a
marked way, seven Kingdoms of which it is
possible to recover something like a continuous
history, seven Kingdoms which alone supplied
candidates for thn dominion of the whole island."
These seven kingdoms were Kent, Sussex, Essex,
Wessex, East Anglia, Northumberland and Mer-
cia. — E. A. Freeman, Hist, of the .A'orman Conq.
of Eng., ch. 2. — "After the territorial boundaries
had become more settled, there appeared at the
commencement of the seventh century seven or
eight greater and smaller kingdoms. . . . Histo-
rians have described this condition of things as
the Heptarchy, di' arding the early disappear-
ance of Susaex, and the existence of still smaller
kii (ioms. But this grouping was neither based
upon equality, nor destined to last for any
length of time. It was the common interest of
these smaller states to withstand the sudden and
often dangerous invasions of their western and
northern neighbours; and, accordingly, which-
ever king was capable of successfully combating
the common foe, acquired for the time a certain
superior rank, w^hich some historians denote by
the title of Bretwalda. By this name can only
be understood an actual and recognized tempo-
rary superiority ; first ascribed to JElla of Sussex,
and later passing to Northumbria, until Wessex
finally attains a real and lasting supremacy. It
was geographical position which determined these
relations of superiority. The small kingdoms in
the west were shielded by the greater ones of
Northumberland, Mercia and Wessex, as though
by crescent-shaped forelands — which in their
struggles with the Welsh kingdoms, with Strath-
clyde and Cumbria, with Picts and Scots, were
continually in a state of martial activity. And
so the smaller western kingdoms followed the
three warlike ones ; and round these Anglo-Saxon
history revolves for two whole centuries, until in
Wessex we find a combination of most of the
conditions which are necessaiy to the existence of
a great State. " — R. Gneist, Hist, of the Eng. Con-
stitution, ch. 3.
A. D. 617.— Edwin becomes king of North-
umbria.
A. D. 634.— Oswald becomes king of North-
umbria.
A. D. 655.— Oswi becomes king of Northum-
bria.
784
ENGLAND, A. D. 670.
The Danes.
ENGLAND, A. D. 855-880.
A. D. 670.— Egfrith becomes king of North-
umbria.
A. D. 688.— Ini becomes king of the West
Saxons.
A. D. 716. — Ethelbald becomes king of
Mercia.
A. D. 758. — Offa becomes kin^ of Mercia.
A. D. 794, — Cenwulf becomes king of Mercia.
A. D. 800. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Ecgberht.
A. D. 800-836. — The supremacy of Wessex.
—The first king of all the Enelish. — "Ami now
I have oouu' to the rclgn of togbcrht, the great
Brctwiilda. lie was au YEtheling of the blood of
(Vnlic, and he is said to have lieen the son of
Ealhmund, and Ealhmund is said to have been
an Under- king of Kent. For the old line of the
Kings of Kent had come to an end and Kent was
now sometimes under Wessex and sometimes
imder Mercia. . . . When Beorhtric died in 800,
he [Ecgberht] was chosen King of the West-
Sa.vons. He reigned until 836, and in that time
he brought all the English Kingdoms, and the
greater part of Britain, more or less under his
power. The southern part of the island, all
Kent, Sussex, and Essex, he joined on to his own
Kingdom, and set his sons or other .^Ethclings to
reign over them as his Under-kings. But Nor-
thumberland, Mercia, and East-Anglia were not
brought so completely under his power as this.
Their Kings submitted to Ecgberht and acknowl-
edged him as their over-lord, but they went on
reigning in their own Kingdoms, and assembling
their own Wise Men, just as they did before.
They became what in after times was called his
' vassids, ' what in English was called being his
'men.'. . . Besides the English Kings, Ecgberht
brought the Welsh, both in Wales and in Corn-
wall, more completely under his power. ... So
King Ecgberht was Lord from the Irish S;'a to
the German Ocean, and from the English Chan-
nel to the Firth of Forth. So it is not wonderful
if, in his charters, he not only called himself King
of the West-Saxons or King of the West-Saxons
and Kentishmeii, but sometimes ' Rex Anglorum,'
or 'King of the English.' But amidst all this
glory there were signs of great evils at hand.
Tiie Danes came several times." — E. A. Free-
man, Old Enfjlhh Hist, for Children, rh. 7.
A. D. 836.— Accession of the West Saxon
king Ethelwulf.
A. D. 855-880.- Conquests and settlements
of the Danes.— The heroic struggle of Alfred
the Great.— The "Peace of Wedmore" and
the " Danelaw."— King Alfred's character and
reign. — " The Danish invasions of England . . .
fall naturally into three periods, each of which
finds its parallel in the course of the English Con-
quest of Britain. . . . We first find a period in
which the object of the invaders .seems to bo
simple plunder. They laud, they harry the coun-
try, they fight, if need be, to secure their bootv,
but whether defeated or victorious, they equally
return to their ships, and sail away w-ith wha"t
they have gathered. This period includes the
time from the first recorded invasion [A. D. 787]
till the latter half of the ninth century. Next
comes a time in which the object of the North-
men is clearl V no longer mere plunder, but settle-
ment. ... In the reign of Ethelwulf the son of
Ecgberht it is recorded that the heathen men
wmtered for the first time in the Isle of Sheppey
[A. D. 855]. This marks the transition from the
first to the second pericul of their invasions. . . •
It was not however till about eleven years from
this time that the settlement actually began.
Meanwhile tlie sceptre of the West *• vmis passed
from one hand to another. . . . i" ^ons of
..i^thelwulf reigned in succession, and , ,ie reigns
of the first three among them [Ethelbald, A. I).
85t!, Ethelberht, 860, Ethelred, 806] make up to-
gether only thirteen years. In the reign of the
third of these princes, .i-Ethelrtd I., tlie second
period of the invasions fairly begins. Five 3ear8
wetc spent by the Northmen in ravaging and cim-
quering tiie tributary Kingdoms. Northumber-
land, still disputed between rival Kings, fell an
easy prey [867-809], and one or two puppet
princes did not scruple to receive a tributary
crown at the hands of the heathen invaders. They
next entered Mercia [868], they seized Notting-
ham, and the West-Suxtm King hastening to the
relief of his va.ssals, was unable to dislodge them
from that stronghold. East Anglia was completely
conquered r866-870] and its King Eadmund died
a martyr. At last the fidl storm of invasion
burst upon Wcf ex itself [871]. King /Ethelred,
the first of a long line of West-Saxon hero-Kings,
supported by his greater brother .^Elfred [Alfred
the Great] met the invaders in battle after battle
with varied success. He died and /Elfred suc-
ceeded, in the thick of the .struggle. In this year
[871], the last of ..Ethelred and the first of
.Alfred, nine pitched battles, besides smaller en-
gagements, wre fought with the heathens on
West-Saxon ground. At last peace was made ;
the Northmen retreated to London, within the
^lercian frontier; Wes.sex was for the moment
delivered, but the supremacy won by Ecgberht
was lost. For a few years Wesse-x was subjected
to nothing more than temporary incursions, but
Northumberland and part of Mercia were system-
atically occupied by the N jrthmen, and the land
Avas divided among them. . . . At last the North-
men, now settled in a large part of the island,
made a second attempt to add Wessex itself to
their possessions [878]. For a moment the land
seemed conquered ; .^Elfred himself lay hid in the
marshes of Somersetshire; men might" well deem
that the Empire of Ecgberht and tlie Kingdom of
Cerdic itself, had vanished for ever. But the
strong heart of the most renowned of Englishmen,
the saint, the scholar, the hero, and the lawgiver,
caiTied his people safely through this most terri-
ble of dangers. Within the snme year the Dragon
of Wessex was again victorious [at the battle of
Etliandun, or Ildiiigton], and the Northmen were
driven to conclude a peace which Englishmen,
fifty years sooner, would have deemed the lowest
depth of degradation, but which might now be
fairly looked upon as honourable and even as
triumphant. By the terms of the Peace of Wed-
more the Northmen were to evacuate Wessex and
the part of Jlercia south-west of Watling-Street;
the\', or at least their chiefs, were to sul)mit to
baptism, and they were to receive the whole land
beyond Watling-Street as va.ssals of the West-
Saxon King. . . . The exact boundary started
from the Thames, along the Lea to its source,
then right to Bedford and along the Ouse till it
meets Watling-Street, then along Watling-Street
to the Welsh border. See '^Elfred and Guthrum's
Peace,' Thorpe's 'Laws and Institutes,' i. 15'2.
This frontier gives London to the English ; but it
seems that ^^Ifred did not obtain full possession
of London till 886." The territory thu .needed
785
ENGLAND, A. D. S.'ir>SSO. Alfred the Great. ENGLAND, A. D. 855-880.
t<) llio Dfinos, â– which inchulod nil nnrtiionstcrn
EiiKliiiiil from the Tliaim-H to tho Tvnc, was
tliciiccfortli known hv the nuMi(; of the bandagh
or Danelaw, Hitriiifying tlio country subject to
the law of the Danes. The Peace 'of Wcdmore
ended the second jteriod of the Danisli invasions.
The third ju'riod, wiiich was not opened until ft
full <:enlury later, endiraced the actual conquest
of the whole of Knirland by a Danish king and its
temporary annexation to the dominions of the
Danish cnjwn. — E. A. Freeman, Hint, of (he JVor-
vum Cowj. of Hug., <•//. 3, irith foot- note. — "Now
that peace was restored, and the Danes driven out
of his domains, it remained to be seen whetlier
Alfred w;is as good a ruler as he was a s(jldier.
. . . Wliat did he see ? The towns, even London
itself, pillaged, ruined, or burnt down; the inon-
a.steries destroyed ; the people wild and lawless;
ignorance, roughness, insecurity everywhere. It
is almost incredible with wlijit a brave heart he
set himself to repair all this; how his great and
noble aims were still before him; how hard he
strove, and how much he achieved. First of all
be w<'ms to have sought for helpers. Like most
clever men, he was good at reading characters.
lie soon saw who would be true, brave, wi.se
friends, and he (rollected these around him. Some
of them he fetched from f)ver the sea, from France
and <»ermanv; our friend Asser from Wales, or,
as he calls his country, 'Western Britain,' while
England, he calls ' Sa.xony.' Ih; says he lirst saw
Alfred ' in a royal vill, which is called Dene ' in
8u.sse.\. 'He received me with kindness, and
asked me eagerly to devote myself to his service,
and become his friend ; to leave everything Avhich
I jxis.sesscd on the left or western bank of the
Severn, and promised that he would give more
than an eijuivalent for it in his own dominion.s.
I rei)lied tiial I could not rashly and incautiously
promise such things; for it seemed to be unjust
that I should leave those sacred places in which
I had been bred, educated, crowned, and ordained
for the sake of any earthly honour and power,
unless upon compulsion. "l'|)on this he said, " If
3'ou cannot accede to this, at least let me have
your service in part; spend six months of the
jear with me here, and the other six months
in Ikitain." ' And to this after a time Asser con-
sented. What were the princijial things he turned
his mind to after providing for the defence of his
kingdom, and collecting his friends and counsel-
lors about him ? Law — justice — religion — edu-
cation. He collected and studied the old laws of
his nation; what he thought good he kept, what
lie disapproved he left out. He added others,
especially the ten commandments and some other
parts of the law of Moses. Then he laid them
all before his Witan, or wise men. and with their
approval published them. . . . The state of jus-
tice in England was dreadful at this time. . . ,
Alfred's way of curing this was by inquiring into
all cases, as far as he iiossibly c(uiid, him.self ; and
Ass«'r sjiys he did this 'especially for the sake of
the poor, to whose interest, day and night, he ever
â– w:i8 wonderfully attentive ; for in the whole king-
d I the poor, Ix'sides him. had few or no pro-
1- >r8.'. . . When he found that the judges had
made mistakes through ignorance, he rebukeu
them, and told them they must either grow wiser
or give up their posts; and sixm the old earls and
other judges, who had been unlearned from their
cradles, began to study diligently. . . . For re-
viving uud spreading religion among his people
he used the best means that he knew of; that is,
he founded new monasteries and restored old
ones, and did his utmost to get good bishops and
clergymen. For his own part, he strove to pnic-
ti.se in all ways what he tauglit to others. . . .
Education was in a .still worse condition than
everything else. . . . All the schools had been
broken up. Alfred says that when he began to
reign there were very few clergymen south of the
Humber who could even understand the Prayer-
book. (That was still in Latin, as the Roman
missionaries had brought it.) And south of the
Thames he could not remember one. Ilis lirst
care was to get better-educated clergy and bi.sh-
ops. And next to get the laymen taught also.
... He founded monasteries and schools, and
restored the old ones wliiih had been ruined. He
had a school in his court for his own children and
the children of his nobles. But at the very out-
set a most serious difficulty confronted Alfred.
Where was he to get books '/ At this time, as far
as we can judge, there can only have been one,
or at most two books in the English language —
the long poem of Caedmon about the creation of
the work!, &c., and the poem of Beowulf about
warriors and flery dragons. There were many
English ballads and .songs, but wlnther these were
written down I do not know. '^1 i c Avas no book
of history, not even English history ; no book of
geography, no religious books, no philosophy.
Bede, who had written so many books, had writ-
ten them all in Latin. ... So when tliey had a
time of ' stillness ' the king and his learned friends
set to work and translated books into English ;
and Alfred, who was as modest and candid as he
was wise, put into the preface of one of his trans-
lati(ms that he hoped, if any one knew Latin bet-
ter than he did, that lie would not blame him, for
he could but do according to his ability. . . .
Beside all this, he had a great many other occu-
pations. Asser, who often lived with him for
months at a time, gives us an account of his busy
life. Notwithstanding liis inlirmities and other
hindrances, ' he continued to carry on the govern-
ment, and to exercise hunting in all its branches;
to teach his workers in gold and artificers of all
kinds, his falconers, hawkers, and dog-keepers;
to build houses, majestic and good, beyond all
the precedents of his ancestors, by his new me-
chanical inventions; to recite the Saxon books
(Asser, being a Welshman, always calls the Eng-
lish, Saxon), and especially to learn by heart the
Saxon poems, and to make others learn them ; he
never desisted from studying most diligently to
the best of his ability; he attended the mass and
other daily services of religion ; he was frequent
in psalm-singing and prayer; ... he bestowed
alms and largesses on both natives and foreigners
of all countries; he was affable and pleasant to
all, and curiously eager to investigate things un-
known.'" — M. J. Guest, Lectures on the Hid. of
Eng., led. 9. — "It is no ea.sy task for anyone
nho has been studying his [Alfred's] life and
works to set reasonable bounds to their reverence,
and enthusiasm, for the man. Lest the reader
should think my estimate tainted with the pro-
verbial weakness of biographers for their heroes,
let them turn to the words in which the earliest,
and the last of the English historians of that time,
sum up the character of Alfred. Florence of
Worcester, writing in the century after his death,
speaks of him as ' that famous, warlike, victorious
king ; the zealous protector of widows, scholars,
786
ENGLAND, A. D. 855-880.
Alfred the Great. ENGLAND, A. D. 955.
orphans and tlic poor; skilled in the Saxon poets;
affable and liberal to all ; endowed with j)rudence,
fortitude, justice, and temperance ; most patient
under the intirmity which he daily suffered; a
most stern inqui.sitbr in executing justice; vigi-
lant and dcvotetl in the service of God.' Jlr.
Freeman, in his ' History of the Norman Con-
quest,' has laid down the portrait in bold and last-
ing colours, in a passage as truthful as it is elo-
quent, which those who are familiar with it will
be glad to meet again, while those who do not
know it will be grateful to me for substituting
for any poor words of my own. ' Alfred, the
unwilling author of these great changes, is the
most perfect character in history, lie is a sin-
gular instance of a prince who has become a hero
of romance, who, as such, has had countless im-
aginary exploits attributed to him, but to whose
character romance has done no more than justice,
and who appears in exactly the same light in his-
tory antl in fable. No other man on record has
ever so thoroughly united all the virtues both of
the ruler and of the private man. In no other
man on record were so many virtues disfigured
by so litthi alloy. A saint without superstition,
a scliolar without ostentation, a warrior all who.se
wars were fought in the defence of his country,
a conqueror who.sc laurels were never stained by
cruelty, a prince never cast down by adversity,
never lifted up to insolence in the day of triumph
— there is no other name in history to compare
â– with his. Saint Lewis comia nearest to him in
the union of a more than monastic pietj" with the
highest â– civil, military, and domestic virtues.
Both of them stand forth ia honourable contrast
to the abject superstition of some other royal
Baints, who were so sellishly engaged in the care
of their own souls that they refused either to
raise xip heirs for their throne, or to strike a blow
on behalf of their people. But even in Saint
Lewis we see a disposition to forsake an immedi-
ate sphere of duty for the sake of distant and
unprofitable, however pious and glorious, under-
takings. Tlie true duties of the King of the
French clearly lay in France, and not in Egypt
or Tunis. No such charge lies at the door of the
great King of the AVest Saxons. With an iufjuir-
ing spirit which took in tlic whole world, for
purposes alike of scientific inquiry and of Chris-
tian benevolence, Alfred never forgot that his
first duty was to Ids own people. He forestjdled
our own age in sending expeditions to explore
the Northern Ocean, and in sending alms to the
distant Churches of India ; but he neither forsook
his crown, like soniv. of liis predecessors, nor neg-
lected his duties, like some of his successors.
The virtue of Alfred, like the virtue of Washing-
ton, consisted in no marvellous displays of super-
human genius, but in the simple, straightfor-
ward discharge of the duty of the moment. But
Washington, soldier, statesman, and patriot, like
Alfred, has no claim to Alfred's further characters
of saint and scholar. William the Silent, too, has
nothing to set against Alfred's literary merits ;
and in his career, glorious as it is, there is an ele-
ment of intrigue and clvicanery utterly alien to
the noble simplicity of both Alfred and Washing-
ton. The same union of zeal for religion and
learning with the highest gifts of the warrior and
the statesman is found, on a wider field of action,
in Charles the Great. But even Charles cannot
aspire to the pure glory of Alfred. Amidst all
the splendour of conquest and legislation, wc can-
7
not be blind to an alloy of personal ambition, of
personal vice, to occasional unjust aggressions
and occasional acts of cruelty. Among our own
later princes, the great Edward alone can bear
for a moment the comparison with his glorious
ancestor. And, when tried by such a standard,
even the great Edward fails. Even in him we do
not see tiie same wondorful union of gifts and
virtues which so seldom meet together; we can-
not acquit P^dward of occasional acts of violence,
of occasional recklessness as to means; we can-
not attribute to him the pure, simple, almost
childlike disinterestedness which marks the char-
acter of Alfred. ' Let Wordsworth, on Ijelialf of
the poets of England, complete the picture:
' BelKjld a pupil of the monkish gown.
The pious Alfred, king to justice dear !
Lord of the harp and liberating spear;
Mirror of princes ! Indigent renown
Might range the starry ether for a crown
Equal to his deserts, who, like the year.
Pours forth his bounty, like the day doth cheer.
And awes like night, with mercy -tempered frown.
Ease from this noble miser of his time
No moment .steals; pain narrows not his cares —
Though small his kingdom as a spark or gem.
Of Alfred boasts remote Jerusalem,
And Christian India, through her widespread
clime.
In sacred converse gifts with Alfred shares.' "
— Thos. Hughes, Alfred the Great, ch. 24.
Also in: II. Pauli, Life of Alfred the Great. —
Asser, Life of Alfred.— Sae, also, Nohmans, and
Education, Mkdu:val.
A. D. 901. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Edward, called The Elder.
A. D. 925. — Accession of the West Saxun
king Ethelstan.
A. D. 938. — The battle of Brunnaburgh. —
Alfred the Great, dying in 901, was succeeded by
his son, Edward, and Edward, in turn, was fol-
lowed, A. D. 925, by his son Athelstane, or Jilth-
alsten. In the reign of Athelstane a great league
was formed against him by the Northumbrian
Danes with the Scots, with the Danes of Dublin
and M-ith the Britons of Strathclyde and Cumbria.
Athelstane defeated the confederates in a mighty-
battle, celebrated in one of the finest of Old-
English war-songs, and also in one of the Sagas
of the Norse tongue, as the Battle of Brunna-
burgh or Brunanl)urh, but the site of which is
unknown. " Five Kings and seven northern
larls or earls fell in the strife. . . . Constantino
the Scot fled to the north, mourning his fair-
haired son, who perished in the slaughter. Anlaf
[or Olaf, the leader of the Danes or Ostmeii of
Dublin], with a sad and scattered remnant of his
forces, escaped to Ireland. . . . The victory was
so decisive that, during the remainder of the
reign of Atludstane, no enemy dared to rise up
against him; his supremacy was acknowledged
without contest, and his glory extended to dis-
tant realms." — F. Palgrave, Hint, of the Anglo-
Sai-oHK, ch. 10. — ^Ir. Skene is of opinion that
the battle of Brunnaburgh was fought at Aid-
borough, near York.— W. F. Skene, Celtic Scot-
land, r. 1, p. 357.
A. D. 940. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Edmund.
A. D. 946.— Accession of the West Saxon
king Edred.
A. D. 955. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Edwig.
87
ENGLAND, A. D. 958. J^« n'itenagfvwt. ENGLAND, A. D. 958.
A, D. 958.— Accession of the West Saxon
king Edgar.
A. D. 958.— Completed union of the realm.
— Increase of kingly authority.— Approach to-
wards feudalism.— Rise of the Witenagemot.
—Decline of the Freemen.— " Before Alfred's
B()ii Kdwiiril (lied, tlie whole of Merciu was in-
corporated Willi his immediate dominions. The
way in which the thine was done was more ro-
muVkahle than tliethinir itself. Like the Romans,
he made the fortided towns the meansof uphold-
ing: Ids power. Hut unlike the Romans, he did
not irrisoii them with eolonists from amongst
his I immediate dei)eiideiits. He tille<l them,
08 I. :iry the Fowler did afterwards in Saxony,
with fr("e townsmen, whose hearts were at one
with their fellow coinUrymen around. Before
he died in 'J'il, the Danish chiefs in the land he-
yond the Muniber had acknowledged his over-
iordshi|), and even the Celts of Wales and Scot-
land ha(l given in their 8ul)mission in some form
which they were not likely to interpret too strictly.
His son and his two grandsons, Athel.stan, Ed-
numd, and Edred completed the work, and
when after the short and trf)ul)led interval of
Edwy's rule in "Wesse.x, Edgar united the undi-
vided realm under his sway in 95H, he had no in-
ternal enemies to s\ippres8. He allowed the
Celtic Scottish King who had succeeded to the
inheritance of the I'ictish race to possess the old
Northumbrian land north of the Tweed, where
thev and their descendants learned the habits
nnif speech of Englishmen. But he treated him
and the other Celtic kings distinctlv a.s his in-
feriors, though it was perhaps well for him that
he did not attempt to impose upon them any
very tangible tokens of his supremacy. The
story of his being rowed by eight kings on the
Dee is doubtless onlj' a legend by which the
peaceful king was glorilied in the troubled times
which followed. Such a struggle, so successfully
conducted, could not fail to i)e accompanied by
a va.st increase of that kingly authority which
liad been on the growth from the time of its first
establishment. The hereditary ealdormen, the
rei)resentatives of the old kiiigly houses, had
{)asse(l awav. The old tribes, or — where their
imitations had been obliterated by the tide of
Danish conquest, as was the case in central and
northern England — the new artilicial divisions
which had taken their place, were now known as
shires, and the very name testilled that they were
regarded only as jnirts of a greater whole. The
shire mote still continued the tradition of the old
poiiular assemblies. At its head as presidents of
its deliberations were the ealdorman and the
bishoi>, each of them owing their appointment to
the king, and it was summoned by the shire-
reeve or sheritT, himself even more' directly an
oftlccr of the king, whose business it was to see
that all the royal dues were paid within the shire.
In the more general concerns of the kingdom,
the king consulted w ith his Witan, whose meet-
ings were called the AVitenagemot, a kxly, which,
at least for all ordinary purposes, was composed
not of any representatives of the shire-motes,
but of his own dependents, the ealdormen. the
bishoi)s. and a certain number of thegns whose
name, meaning 'servants', implied at least at
first, that tliej- either were or had at one time been
in some way m the employment of the king. . . .
The necessities of war .' . . combined Avith the
sluggishness of the mass of the population to
7
favour the growth of a ndlitary force, which
would leave the tillers of the soil to their own
peaceful occui)ations. As the ccmditions which
make a standing army possible on a large scale
did not yet exist, such a force must be afforded
by a special class, and that class must be com-
posed of those who either had too much land to
till themselves, or, having no land at all, were re-
lea.sed from the b(mds wluch tied the cultivator
to the soil, in other words, it must be composed
of a landed aristocracy and its dependents. In
working out this change, England was only aim-
ing at the results which similar conditions were
producing on the Continent. But just as the
homogeneousness of the population drew even
the foreign element of the church into harmony
with the established institutions, so it was with
the ndlitary aristocracy. It grouped itself round
the king, and it supplemented, instead of over-
throwing, the old popular assemblies. Two
classes of men, the eorls and the gesiths, had been
marked out from their fellows at the time of the
conquest. The thegn of Edgar's day differed
from both, but he had some of the distinguish-
ing marks of either. He was not like the gesith,
a mere personal follower of the king. He did not,
like the eorl, owe his position to his birth. Yet
his relation to the king was a close one, and he
had a liold ui)on the land as firm as that of the
older eorl. He may, perhaps, best be described
as a gesith, who had acqiured the position of an
eorl without entirely throwing off his own charac-
teristics. . . . There can be little doubt that the
change began in the practice of granting special
estates in the folkland.or common luidivided land,
to special persons. At first this land was doubt-
less held to be the ]irf)perty of the tribe. [This is
now questioned by Vinogmdoff and others. See
FoLCL.\ND.] . . . When the king rose above the
tribes, he granted it himself with the consent of his
Witan. A large portion was granted to churches
and monasteries. But a large portion went in
jirivates estates, or book land, as it was called,
from the book or charter which conveyed them
to the king's own gesiths, or to members of his
own family. The gesith thus ceased to be a mere
member of the king's military household. He
became a landowner as well, with special duties
to perform to the king. . . . He had special juris-
diction given him over his tenants and serfs, ex-
emjiting him and them from the aiUhority of the
hundred mote, though they still remained, except
in very exceptional cases, under the authority of
the shire mote. . . . Even up to the Norman con-
quest this change was still going on. To the end,
indeed, the old constitutional forms were not
broken down. The hundred mote was not aban-
(h)ned, where freemen enough remained to fill it.
Even where all the land of a hundred had passed
under the protection of a lord there was little out-
ward change. . . . There was thus no actual
breach of continuity in the nation. The thegn-
hood pushed its roots down, as it were, amongst
the free classes. Nevertheless there was a dan-
ger of such a breach of continuity coming about.
The freemen entered more and more largely into
a condition of dependence, and there was a
great risk lest such a condition of dependence
should become a condition of servitude. Here
and there, by s»>mc extraordinary stroke of luck,
a freeman nught rise to be a thegn. But the con-
dition of the class to which he belonged was de-
teriorating every day. The downward progress
88
ENGIiAND, A. D. 958. Danish Con<iue»t. ENGLAND, A. D. 1016-1043.
to serfdom was too easy to take, and by large
masses of the popidation it was already taken.
Below the increasing; numbers of the serfs was to
be found the lower class of slaves, who were ac-
tually the property of their musters. The Witen-
ageniot was in reality a select body of thegns, if
the bishops, who held their lands in much the
same way, be regarded as thegns. In Avas rather
an inchoate House of Lords, than an inchoate Par-
liament, after our modern ideas. It was natural
that a body of men which united a great part of
the wealth with almost aU the intluence in the
kingdom should be possessed of high constitu-
tional powers. The Witenagemot elected the
king, though as yet they always cho.se him out
of the royal family, which was held to have sprung
from the god Woden. There were even cases in
which they deposed unworthy kings." — S. H.
Gardiner aiitl J. H. Mullinger, IntnxL to the Ktudy
of En,'/. Hint., pt. 1, c/i. 2, sect. 10-21.
A. D. 975. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Edward, called The Martyr.
A. D. 979. — Accession of the West Saxon
king Ethelred, called The Unready.
A. D. 979-1016. — The Danish conquest. —
" Then [A. I). 979] commenced one of the longest
and most disastrous reigns of the Sa.xon kings,
with the accession of Ethelred II., justly styled
Ethelred the Unready. The Northmen now re-
newed their plundering and couiiuering expedi-
tions against England; while England had a
worthless waverer for her ruler, and many of her
chief men turned traitors to their king and coun-
try. Always a laggart in open war, Ethelred
tried in 1001 the cowardly and foolish policy of
buying off the enemies whom he dared not en-
counter. The ta.K called Dane-gelt was then
levied to provide ' a tril)ute for the Danish men
on account of the great terror which they caused.'
To pay money thus was in effect to hire the
enemy' to renew the war. In 1002 Ethelred tried
the still more weak and wicked measure of rid-
ding himself of his enemies by treacherous mas-
sacre. Great numbers of Danes were now living
in England, intermixed with the Anglo-Saxon
population. Ethelred resolved to relieve himself
from al! real or supposed danger of these Scan-
dinavian settlers taking part with their invading
kinsmen, by sending secret orders throughout
his dominions for the putting to death of every
Dane, man, woman, and cluld, on St. Brice's
Day, Nov. 13. This atrocious order was exe-
cuted only in Southern England, that is, in the
"West-Saxon territories; but large numbers of the
Danish race were nuudered there while dwelling
in full security amon^ their Saxon neighbours.
. . . Among the vietmis was a royal Danish
lady, niuned Gunhilde, who was sister of Sweyn,
king of Denmark, and who had married and set-
tled in England. . . . The news of the massacre
larger fleet and army than the north had ever be-
fore sent forth, and solemnly vowed to conquer
England or perish in the attempt. He landed on
the south coast of Devon, obtained possession of
Exeter by the treachery of its governor, and then
marched through western and southern England,
marking every shire with tire, famine and slaugh-
ter; but he was unable to take London, which
was defended against the repeated attacks of the
Danes with strong courage and patriotism, such
as seemed tr) have died out in the rest of Saxon
P^ngland. In 1013, the wretched king Ethelred
tied the realm and sought shelter in Nornumdy.
Sweyn was acknowledged king in all the northern
and western shires, but he died in 1014, while his
vow of con([uest was only partly accomplished.
The English now sent for Ethelred back from
Normandy, promising loyaltj' to him as their
lawful king, 'provided he would ruh^ over them
more justly than he had done before.' Ethelred
willingly promised amendment, and returned to
reign amidst strife and misery for two years
more. His iinplacjible enemy, Sweyn, was in-
deed deail; but the Danish host which Sweyn
had led thither was still in England, under the
command of Sweyn's son, Canute [or Cnut], a
prince cqvial in military prowess to his father,
and far superior to him and to all other princes
of the time in statesmanship and general ability.
Ethelred died in 1016, while the war with Canute
was yet raging. Ethelred's son, Edmund, sur-
named Ironside, was cho.sen king by the great
council then assembled in London, but great num-
V)er8 of the Saxons made their submission to
Canute. The remarkable personal valour of Ed-
mund, strongly aided by the braverj"^ of his faith-
ful Londoners, maintained the war for nearly a
year, when Canute agreed to a compromise, by
which he and Edmund divideii the land between
them. But within a few months after this, the
royal Ironside died by the hand of an assassin,
and Canute obtained the whole realm of the
English race. A Dani.sh dynasty was uow [A. D.
1016] established in England for three reigns." —
Sir E. S. Creasy, IIiKt. of Enr/., v. 1, ch. 5.
Also in: J. M. Lappenberg, Enff. under the
Anf/lo-Si.ron Kings, v. 2, pp. 151-233. — See, also,
M.VLDEN, and Ass.xndun, Battles of.
A. D. 1016. — Accession and death of King
Edmund Ironside.
A. D, 1016-1042. — The Reign of the Danish
kings. — "Cnut's rule was not as terrible as
might have been feared. He was perfectly un-
scrupulous in striking down the treacherous and
mischievous chieftains who had made a trade of
Ethelred's weakness and the country's divisions.
But he was wise and strong enough to rule, not
by increasing but by allaying those divLsions.
Resting his power upon his Scandinavian king-
doms beyond the sea, upon his Danish country-
men in England, and liis Danish huscarles, or
specially trained soldiers in his service, he was
able, without even the appearance of weakness, to
do what in him lay to bind Dane and Englishman
together as common instruments of his power.
Fidelity counted more with him than birth. To
bring England itself into unity was beyond his
power. The device which he hit upon was
operative only in hands as strong as his own.
There were to be four great earls, deriving their
name from the Danish word jarl, centralizing the
forces of government in Wes.sex, in Mercia, in
East Anglia, and in Northumberland. With
Cnut the four were officials of the highest class.
They were there because he placed them there.
They would cease to be there if he so willed it.
But it could hardly be that it would always bo
so. Some day or another, luiless a great catas-
trophe swept away Cnut and his creation, the
earldoms would pass into territorial sovereignties
and the divisions of England would be made evi-
dent openly."— S. R. Gardiner and J. B. Mul-
linger, Int. to the Study of Eng. Hist., ch. 2, sect.
789
ENGLAND. lOlft-1042. ne last Saxon King. ENGLAND. 1042-.1066.
ST). — "Up fCiiniitr] rulctl rinjiiinally at k-nst. ii
liirffcr Kiiri>|)(a!i troniinion than any EnglisJi 8'»v-
crci^rii lias ever (ioiic; aiui perhaps also a niorn
JionioL'cnconsoiic. No potcntatrof flic liniccame
near him except the klntr of (iennany. the em-
peror, will, whom lie was allied as an equal.
The kitiir of the NorwcL'ians, the Danes, and a
frreat part of the Swedes, was in a position to
fotmd a Scandinavian empire with Uritain an-
nexed. ( 'anute's ilivision of liis dominions (m lii.s
death bed. showed that he saw this to he inipos-
silile; Norw.ay. for a century and a half after
his strong' h.'ind was removed, was broken up
ainonirst an anan'hical crew of piratic and blood-
thirsty princes, nor couid Denmark be rej,'ar(led
!is liklly to continue united with Kn.u'land. The
Knirlisli nation was too much divided and de-
moralised to retain liold on Scandinavia, even if
the condition of the latter had allowed it. Jlenoc
Cantite determined that duriiifi his life, as after
his death, the nations should bo governed on
their own principles. . . . The four nations of
the En^'lish. Nortimmbrians. East Angles, Mer-
cians and West Sa.xons, might, each under their
own national leader, obey a sovereign who was
strong enough to enforce peace amongst them.
The great earldoms of (,'anute's reign were per-
hajjs a nearer approadi to a feudal division of
England than anything which followed the Nor-
man Conqiu'st. ' . . And the extent to which
this creation of the four earldoms atTected the
history of the next half-ceutury cannot be ex-
nggeriited. The certain tendency of such an
arrangement to beconu! heredit.iry, and the cer-
tain tendency of the hereditJiry occupation of
great fiefs ultimately to overwhelm the royal
power, are well cxeini)Iitieil. . . . Tlie Norman
Conquest restored national unity at a tremendous
tcmi«)rary sficrifice, just as the Danish Conquest
in other ways, juid liy a reverse process, liad
helped to creat<' it." †” W. Stubbs, Coimt. Hist, of
Eiifi., ch. 7, met. 77.— Canute died in 1035. He
was succeeded by his two .sons, Harold Harefoot
(10;i.')-l()4()) and Harthacnute or H.ardicanute
(1040-1042). after which the Saxon line of kings
was momentarily restored. — E. A. Freeman,
Hint, of the yurmmi Couq. of Eng.. ch. G. '
A. D. 1035.— Accession °^ Harold, son of
Cnut.
A. D. 1040.— Accession of Harthacriut, or
Hardicanute.
A. D. 1042. — Accession of Edward the
Confessor.
A. D. 1042-1066.— The last of the Saxon
king». — "Tlie love which Canute had inspired
by his wi.se and conciUatory rule was dis.sipate(l
by the bad government of' his sons, Harold and
Hartliacnut, who ruled in turn. After seven
years of misgovernment, or rather anarchy, Eng-
land, freed from the hated rule of Harthacnut
by his death, returned to its old line of kings,
and 'all folk cliose Edward [surnamed The Con-
fessor, son of Ethelred the Lnreadv] to king,' as
was his right ])y birth. Not that he was. accord-
ing to our ideas, the direct heir, since Edward,
the son of Edmund Ironside, still lived, an exile
in Hungary. But the Saxons, by choosing Ed-
waid the Confessor, reasserted for the last time
their right to elect that one of the hereditary line
wln> was most available. With the reign of
Edward the Confessor the Norman Conquest
really began. We have seen the eonncction be-
tween England and Nonnandy begun bv the
marriage of Ethelred the Unready to Emma the
daughter of Hichard the Fearless, and cemented
by the refuge offered to the f^nglisli exiles in the
court of the Norman duke. Edward had long
found a home there in Canute's time. . . .
Urought up under Norman influence. Edward
had contracted the ideas and sympathies of his
adopted home. On his election to the English
throne the French tongue became thi; langiu\ge
of the court. Norman favourites followed in his
train, to be foisted into important oflices of State
and Church, and thus inaugurate that Norman-
izing i)r)licy which was to draw on tlu! Norman
Conquest. Had it not been for this. William
would never have had any claim on England."
The Normanizing policy of king Edward roused
the opposition of a strong English party, headed
1)3' the great West-Saxon Earl Godwine, who
had been lifted from an obscure origin to vast
power in England by the favor of Caiuite, and
whose son Harold held the earldom of East
Anglia. "Edward, raised to the throne chiefly
through the influence of Godwine. shortly mar-
ried ids daughter, and iit flrst ruled England
leaning on the assistance, and almost over-
shadowed by the power of the great carl." But
Edward was Norman at heart and Godwine was
thorotiglily English; whence quarrels were not
long in arising. Thej' came to the crisis in 1051,
by rea.son of a bloody tumtdt at Dover, provoked
by insolent conduct on the part of a train of
Irench visitors returning home from Edward's
Court. Godwine was commanded to punish the
townsmen of Dover and refused, whereupon the
king obtained a sentence of outlawry, not onlv
against the carl, but against his sons. "God-
wine, obliged to bow before the united power of
his enemies, was forced to fly the land. He
went to Flanders with his son Swegcn, while
Harold and Leofwine went to Ireland, to be well
received by Dermot king of Leinster. Many
Englishmen seem to have followed him in his
exile; for a year the foreign party was triumph-
ant, and the flrst stage of the Norman Conque.'t
complete. It was at this important crisis t'uat
William [Duke of Normandy], secure at home,
visited his cousin Edward. . . . Friendly rela-
tions we may be sure had existed between the
two cousins, and if, as is not improbable, Wil-
liam had begun to hope that he might some day
succeed to the English throne, what more favour-
able opportunity for a visit could have been
found? Edward had lost all hopes of ever hav-
ing any children. . . . William came, and it
would seem, gained all that he desired. For this
most probably was the date of some promise on
Edward's part that "William should succeed him
on his death. The whole question is beset with
difliculties. The Norman chroniclers aione men-
tion it. and give no dates. Edward had no right
to will away his crown, the disposition of which
lay with King and Witenagemot (or assembly of
Wise Men, the grandees of the country), and his
last act was to reverse the promise, if ever given,
in favour of Harold, Godwine's son. But were
it not for some such promise, it is hard to see
how William could have subseq^uently made the
Normans and the world believe in the sacredness
of his claim. . . . William returned to Nor-
mandy; but next year Edward was forced to
change his policy." Gotlwine and his sons re-
turned to England, with a fleet at their backs;
London declared for them, and the king sub-
â– 90
ENGLAND, 1042-1000.
Claimn of
William of Xormnndy.
ENGLAND, 1066.
mitted liiinself to a reconciliation. " Tlir party
of Ginhvinc once more ruled supreme, ant! no
mention wa.s made of the gift of the crown to
â– \Villiam. Godwiiie, indeed, did not long sur-
vive his restoration, but dving the year after,
1058, left his son Harold Earl'of llie West-Sax-
ons and the most important man in f^ngland."
King Edward the Confessor lived yet thirteen
years after this time, during which period Earl
Harold grew continually in influence! and con-
spicuous headship of the English party. In 1062
it was Harold's misfortune to he shipwrecked on
the coast of France, and he was made captive.
Duke William of Normandy intervened m liis
behalf and obtained his release; and "then, as
the ]irice of his assistance, extorted an oath ' T/m
Harold, soon to be used against him. H.'irol,], it
is said, became his man, promised to nr .ij Wil-
liam's daughter Adela, to place Dover s.t once in
William's hands, and support his claim to the
English throne on Edward's death. By :. strata-
gem of William's the oath was unwittingly
taken on holy relics, hidden by the duke under
the table on which Harold laid hands to swear,
whereby, according to the notions of those days,
the oath was rendered more binding." But two
years later, when Edward the Confessor died,
the English Witenagemot chose Harold to be
king, disregarding Edward's promise and Har-
old's oath to the Duke of Normandy. — A. H.
Johnson, 7 fie Normans in Europe, ch. 10 and 12.
Also in : E. A. Freeman, Hist, of the Norman
Conq. ofEng., ch. 7-10.— J. R. Green, The Conq.
of Knf/., ch. 10.
A. D. io66. — Election and coronation of
Harold.
A. D. io66 (spring and summer). — Prepara-
tions of Duke ^X^illiam to enforce his claim to
the English crown. — On receiving news of Ed-
ward's death and of Harold's acceptance of the
crown, Duke William of Normandy lost no time
in demanding from Harold the performance of
the engagements to which he had pledged him-
self by his oath. Harold answered that the oath
had no binding effect, by reason of the compul-
sion under which it was given; that the crown of
England was not his to bestow, and that, being
the chosen king, he could not marry without
consent of the Witenagemot. When the Duke
had this rejdy he proceeded with vigor to secure
from his own knights and barons the support he
would need for the enforcing of his rights, as he
deemed them, to the sovereignty of the English
realm. A great parliament of the Norman
barons was held at Lillebonne, for the consider-
ation of the matter. " In this memorable meet-
ing there was much diversity of opinion. The
Duke could not command his vassals to cross the
sea; their tenures did not compel them to such
service. William could only request their aid to
fight his battles in England: many refused to
engage in this dangerous expedition, and great
debates arose. . . . William, who could not re-
store order, withdrew into another apartment:
and, calling the barons to him one by one, he
argued and reasoned witli each of these sturdy
vassals separately, and apart from the others.
He exhausted all the arts of persuasion ; — their
present courtesy, he engaged, should not be
ttirned into a precedent, . . . and the fertile
fields of England should be the recompense of
their fidelity. Upon this prospect of remuner-
ation, the barons assented. . . . William did not
confine himself to his own subjects. All the
adventurers and adventurous spirits of the neigh-
bouring states were invited to join his standard.
... To all, such promises were made as should
best incite them to the enterprise — lands, —
liveries, — money — according to their rank and
degree; anil the' port of St. I'ierre-sur-Dive was
appointed as the place wIk re all the forces should
assemble. William h.i' iliscovered four most
valid reasons for the prosecution of liis offensive
warfare against a neighb')uring peojile: — the
becjuest made by his cousin; — the jierjury of
Harold; — the expulsi(m of the Normans, at the
instigation, as he alleged, of Godwin; — and,
lastly, the mas.sacre of the Danes by Etlu'lred on
St. Brice's Day. The alleged perjury of Harold
enabled William to ol)tain the sanction of the
Papal See. Alexander, the Roman Pontiff, al-
lowed, nay, even urged him to punish the crime,
provided England, wlien concpiered, should be
held as the fief of St. Peter. . . . Ilildebrand,
Archdeacon of the Church of Rome, afterwards
the celebrated Pojie Gregory VII., greatly as-
sisted by the support which he gave to the decree.
As a visible token of protection, the Poj)e trans-
mitted to William the consecrated banner, the
Gonfanon of St. Peter, and a precious ring, in
which a relic of the chief of the Apo.stles was
enclosed." — Sir F. Palgrave, Hist, of Normandy
and Eng., v. 3, pp. 300-303.— " William con-
vinced, or seemed to convince, all men out of
England and Scandinavia that his claim to the
English crown was just and holy, and that it
was a good work to help him to assert it in arms.
. . . William himself doubtless thought his own
claim the better; he deluded himself as he de-
luded others. But we are more concerned with
William as a .statesman ; and if it be statesman-
ship to adapt means to ends, whatever the ends
may be, if it be statesmanship to make men
believe the worse cause is the better, then no
man ever showed higher statesmanship than
William showed in his great pleading before all
Western Christendom. . . . Others had claimed
crowns ; none had taken such pains to convince
all mankind that the claim was a good one.
Such an appeal to public opinion marks on one
side a great advance." — E. A. Freeman. William
the Conqueror, ch. 6.
A. D. io66 (September). — The invasion of
Tostig and Harold Hardrada and their over-
throw at Stamford Bridge. — "Harold [the
English king], as one of his misfortunes, had to
face two powerful armies, in distant parts of the
kingdom, almost at the same time. Rumours
concerning the intentions and preparations of the
Duke of Normandy soon reached England. Dur-
ing the greater part of the summer, Harold, at
the head of a large naval and military force, had
been on the watch along the English coast. But
months passed away and no enemy became visi-
ble. William, it was said, had been apprised of
the measures which had been taken to meet him.
. . . Man}' supposed that, on various grounds,
the enterprise had been abandoned. Provisions
also, for so great an army, became scarce. The
men l)egan to disperse; and Harold, disbanding
the remainder, returned to London. But the
news now came that Harold Hardrada, king of
Norway, had landed in the north, and was ravag-
ing the country in conjunction with Tostig,
Harold's elder brother. This event came from
one of those domestic feuds which did so much
791
ENGLAND. 1066.
Battle of Seulac.
ENGLAND, 1066.
nt this jiincturp to wonkcn tho power of the
KiifrliHli. T«)8li>r had cxcrriwd his luithority in
Ndrthunihriii (nHi-arl] in tlic nmst arliitmry man-
nor, and had pcrpi-t rated anKJous rrimi-s in
furtlHTancc i>f Ids olijccts. Tlic ri'snlt was an
animint of disalTcction wliich wcms t<» liave nut
it lint of tiic poWLT of liis fricnilH to sustain him.
lie had married a dau>,'liter of Baldwin, count of
Flanders, and ho l)e(ame lirotlier-in-law to tlio
duke of Normandy. His brother Ilarohl, as he
alllrmed, liad not done a hrotlier's part towards
iiim, and lie was more disjiosed, in eonse(juenee,
to side witli tiie Norman tiian willi llie Sa.xon
in tlie approaehinj; strufrjcle. Tlie army with
wliich he now ai)peare<l consisted mostly of Nor-
wej^ians and Fhniings. and their avowed object
was to divide not less tlum half the kingdom be-
tween them. . . . [Tlie young Mercian earls
Edwin and Morcar] summoned their forces . . .
to repel the invasion under Tostig. Before Har-
old could reach the north, they hazarded an
engagement at a phue named Fulford, on the
Ouse, not far from Bisliopstoke. Their meas-
ures, however, were not wisely taken. They
were defeated with great loss. The invaders
seem to have regarded this victory as deciding
the fate of that part of the kingdom. They ob-
tained hostages at York, and then moved to
Stamford Bridge, where they began the work of
dividing the northern jmrts of England between
them. But in the midst of these proceedings
clouds of dust were seen in the distance. Tlie
first thought was, that the multitude which
seemeil to !)(• apjiroaching must be friends. But
the illusion was soon at an end. The du.^t raised
was by the marcli of an army of West Saxons
under "the conunand of Harold." — R. Vaughan,
IiVrohitiontt ,'f Hnr/. Hist., hk. 3, eh. 1.— "Of the
details of that awful day [Sept. 25, 1066] we
have no authentic record. We have indeed a
glorious description [in the Heimskringla of
Snorro Sturleson], conceived in the highest spirit
of the warlike poetrj' of the North; but it is a
description which, when critically examined,
proves to be hardly more worthy of belief than
a battle-piece in the Iliad. ... At least we know
that the long struggle of that day was crowned
by coinjilete victory on the side of England.
The leaders of the invading host lay each man
ready for all that England had to give him, his
seven feet of English ground. There Harold of
Norway, the last of the ancient Sea-Kings,
yielded up that fiery soul which had bnived death
in so many forms and in so many lands. . . .
There! Tostig, the son of Godwine, an exile and
a traitor, ended in crime and sorrow a life
which had begun with promises not less bright
than that f)f liis royal brother. . . . The whole
strength of the Northern army was broken; a
few only escaped by tlight, and found means to
reach the ships at Uiccall." — E. A. Freeman,
IIM. of (he yiirman Conq. of Eiir/., ch. 14, sect. 4.
A. b. io66(October1. — 1 he Norman invasion
and battle of Senlac or Hastings.— The liattle
of Stamford-bridge was fouuht on .Mcmdav, Sept.
25, A. n. 10(10. Tiiree days later, on the Thursday,
Sept. 28, William of Normandy landed his more
formidable army of invasion at Pevensey, on the
extreme southeastern coast The news of Wil-
liams lamling reached Hf.rold, at York, on the
following Sunday, i', is thought, and his victori-
ous but worn and v ast<,'d army was led instantly
back, by forced m/trches, over the route it had
traversed no longer tlian the week before. Wait-
ing at London a few days for fresh musters to
join him, tlie English king 8«;tout from that city
Oct. I'J, and arrived cm the following <iay at a
point seven miles from the camp which his an-
tagonist had entrenched at Hastings. Meantime
the Normans had been cruelly ravaging the coast
country, by way of provoking attack. Harold
felt himself driven by the devastaticm they com-
mitted to face the issue of battle without wait-
ing for a stronger rally. "Advancing near
enough to the coast to check William's ravages,
he intrenched himself on the hill of Senlac, a Tow
spur of the Sussex Downs, near Hastings, in a
Sosition which covered London, and forced the
lorman army to concentrate. With a host sub-
sisting by pillage, to concentrate is to starve, and
no alternative was left to William but a decisive
victory or ruin. Along the higher ground that
leads from Hastings the Duke led his men in the
dim dawn of an October morning to the mound of
Telliam. It was from this point that the Nor-
mans saw the host of tho English gathered thickly
behind a rough trench and a stockade on the
height of Senlac. ilarshy ground covered their
right. ... A general charge of the Norman foot
opened the battle; in front rode the minstrel
Taillefer, tossing his sword in the air and catch-
ing it again while he chanted the song of Roland,
lie Avas the first of the host who struck a blow,
and he was the first to fall. The charge broke
vainly on the stout stockade behind which the
English warriors plied axe and javelin with
fierce cries of ' Out, Out,' and the repulse of the
Norman footmen was followed by the repulse of
the Norman liorse. Again and again the Duke
rallied and led them to the fatal stockade. . . .
His Breton troops, entangled in the marshy
grountl on his left, broke in disorder, and a cry
arose, as the panic spread through the army,
that the Duke was slam. ' I live,' shouted Wil-
liam as he tore off his helmet, ' and by God's help
will conquer yet.' Maddened by repulse, the
Duke spurred right at the standard ; unhorsed,
his terrible mace struck down Gyrth, the King's
brother, and stretched Leofwinc, a second of
Godwine's sons, beside him; again dismounted,
a blow from his hand hurled to the ground an
unmannerly rider who would not lend him his
steed. Amid the roar and tumult of the battle
he turned the flight he had arrested into the
means of victory. Broken as the stockade was
by his desperate onset, the shield-wall of the
warriors behind it still held the Nonuans at bay,
when William by a feint of flight drew a part of
tlie English force from their post of vantage.
Turning on his disorderly pursuers, the Duke
cut them to pieces, broke through the abandoned
line, and was master of the central plateau, while
French and Bretons made good their ascent on
cither flank. At three the hill seemed won, at
si.x the fight still raged around the standard,
where Harold's Ims-carls stood stubbornly at
bay on the spot marked afterward by the high
altar of Battle Abbey. An order from the Duke
at last brought his archers to the front, and their
arrow-flight told heavily on the dense masses
crowded anmnd the King. As the sun went
down, a shaft pierced Harold's right eye ; he fell
between the royal ensigns, and the battle closed
with a desperate melee over his corpse." — J. R.
Green, A tihort Bistort/ of the English People, ch.
2, sect. 4.
792
ENGLAND, 1066.
Spoil* of the
Conquett.
ENGLAND, 1067-1087.
Also tn: E. A. Froi'mnn, Hist, of the Xorman
Coiif/. of Eitf/., ch. 15, met. 4. — il. 8. CreiiHy,
Fiftien'lhrmve BattliHof the World, cli. 8.— Wace,
IloiiKiii (If lion ; tnniH. />;/ Sir A. Sluht.
A. D. 1066-1071.— The Finishing of the Nor-
man Conquest. — "It must hi- wen uiidirstootl
that this ftrciil victory [of Senliic] did not iiiako
Duke Wiiliiiin Kiiij^' nor put liim in possession of
tlif wliole land. Ho still licld only part of Siis-
si'.v, and the people of the rest of the kingdom
showed ns yet no mind to submit to him. If
England liad had a leader left like Harold or
Gyrth, William might liave had to light as ninny
hattles as ('nut had, and that with mucli less
chance of winning in tlie end. For a large part
of lOngland fought willingly on ("nut's side,
while William liad no friends in England at all,
except a few Norman settlers. William did not
call himself King till lie was regularly crowned
more than two months later, and even then he
liad real possession only of about a third of the
kingdom. It was more than three .years before
he had full possession of nil. Still tlie great
fight on Senlac none the less settled tlie fate of
England. For after that flght William never
met with any general resistance. . . . Dunng
the year 1067 William made no further con-
(jucsts; all western and northern England re-
mained unsubdued; but, except in Kent and
Herefordshire, there was no lighting in any part
of the land which had really sulimitted. The
ne.xt two years were the time in which all Eng-
land was really conquered. The former part of
1068 gave him the West. The latter i)art of that
year gave him central and northern England as
far as Yorkshire, tlie extreme north and north-
west licing still unsubdued. The attempt to win
Durliam in the beginning of 10G9 led to two re-
volts at York. Later in the yenr all the north
and west was again in arms, and the Danish fleet
[of King Swegen, in league with the Eugli.sh
patriots] came. But the revolts were i)ut down
one by one, and the great winter campaign of
1069-1070 coiKiuered the still unsubdued parts,
ending with the taking of Chester. Early in
1070 the whole land was for the first time in
William's possession; there was no more light-
ing, and he was able to give his mind to the
more peaceful part of his schemes, what we may
call the conquest of the native Church by the
appointment of foreign bishops. But in the
summer of 1070 began the revolt of the Feuland,
and the defence of Ely, which lasted till the
autumn of 1071. After that William was full
King everywhere without dispute. There was
no more national resistance ; there was no revolt
of any large part of the country. . . . The con-
quest of the land, as far as fighting goes, was
now finished."— E. A. Freeman, Short Hint, of
the Norman Conq. of Eng., ch. 8, sect. 9; ch. 10,
sect. 16.
A. D. 1067-1087.— The spoils of the Con-
quest.— "The Norman army . . . remained con-
centrated around London [in the winter of 1067],
and upon the southern and eastern coasts nearest
Gaul. The partition of the wealth of the invaded
territory now almost solely occupied them. Com-
missioners went over the whole extent of country
In which the army had left garrisons; they took
an exact inventory of property of every kind,
public and private, carefully registering every
particular. ... A close inquiry was made into
the names of all the English partisans of Harold,
who had cither died in battle, or survived the de-
feat, or by involuntary delays had been prevented
from joining the royal standard. All the prop-
erty of these three classes of men, lands, reve-
nues, furniture, houses, were confiscated; the
children of the first class were declared forever
di.sinh('rit<'d; the second cla.ss, were, in like man-
ner, will Uy dispo.ssessed of their estates and
propcriy of every kind, and, says one of the
Norman writers, were only too grateful for being
allowed to retain their lives. Lastly, tho.sc who
had not taken up arms were also desiioilcil of all
they [lossessed, for having had the intention of
taking u]) arms; but, by sjiecial grace, they were
allowed to entertain the hope that after many
long years of obedience and devotion to the for-
eign power, not they, indeed, but their sons,
might perhaps obtain from their new masters
some portion of their paternal heritage. Such
was the law of the coiKjuest, according to the
unsuspected testimonv of a man nearly con-
temporary with and of the race of the conciuer-
ors [Richard Lenoir or Noirot, bishop of Ely in
the 12th centur}']. The immense product of this
universal spoliation became the pay of those ad-
venturers of every nation who had enrolled under
the banner of the <luke of Norniandy. . . .
Some received their jiay in money, others had
stipulated that they sliouhl have a Sa.xoii wife,
and William, says the Norman chronicle, gave
them in marriage noble dames, great heiresses,
whose husbands had fallen in the battle. One,
only, among the knights who had accompanied
the couijueror, claimed neither lands, gold, nor
wife, and would accept none of the spoils of the
conquered. His name was Guilbert Fitz-Kich-
ard : he said that he had accompanied his lord to
England because such was his duty, but that
stolen goods had no attraction for him." — A.
Thierry, Hist, of the Conq. of Entj. by the Nor-
vuins, hk. 4. — "Though many confiscations took
place, in order to gratify the Norman army, yet
the mass of property was left in the hands of its
former pos.sessors. Otlioes of high trust were
bestowed upon Englishmen, even \\\mn those
whose family renown might have raised the most
aspiring thoughts. But, partly through the in-
solence and injustice of William's Norman vas-
sals, partly through the suspiciousness natural
to a man conscious of having overturned the
national government, his yoke soon became more
heavy. The English were oppressed ; they re-
belled, were subdued, and oppressed again. . . .
An extensive spoliation of property accompanied
these revolutions. It appears by the great na-
tional survey of Domesday Book, completed near
the close of the Conqueror's reign, that the ten-
ants in capite of the cro .vn were generally for-
eigners. . . . Butinferiorfreeholders were much
less disturbed in ilieir estates than the higher.
. . . The valualile labours of Sir Henry Ellis, in
presenting us with a complete analysis of Domes-
day Book, afford an opjiortunity, by his list of
mesne tenants at the time of the survey, to fonn
.some approximation to the relative numbers of
flnglish and foreigners holding manors under the
immediate vassals of the crown. . . . Though I
will not now affirm or deny that they were a
majority, they [the English] form a large pro-
portion of nearly 8,000 mesne tenants, who are
summed up by the diligence of Sir Henry Ellis.
. . . This might induce us to suspect that, great
as the spoliation must appear in modern times,
793
ENGLAND 1(«7-1087.
nr Ciimi> of
Hrfuyt.
ENGLAND, 1085-1086.
nn<l nlmrwt roniplct<-ly n« the nation wns rxrludi-d
from civil pnwcr in tin- riiiiuiKHiwciiitii, tiiiTc is
MMiic cxavrK'Tiilidii ill tlif liiii;,'ua)Lr<' of tlionc
writcfH wild npri'scnt tliiiii iis uiiivcrHiilly rc-
diiccil to II Hlutr of prniiry and scrvitiidi'. Anil
tliiH miHpiiiim nmv In- in wmic dt')jrm' just. Yet
tiiiiHi- writirs, mill csim rially tin- most Knjriisli in
ficliii;,' of ilicin nil, .M Tliirrry, arc warranlid l>y
tlir laiijfuin.'" o' ,itiinporarv aiitlioritiiH." — If.
Iliillain, f\> ... -.a*. Aw. <■'/,. 8, ;/^ 2. — " Ily
ri).'lit of coiKiiH's. »> Ml am (laiiiicil iiotliin^. He
iiail com. t( tal« |iisc»>\vii, aiiil lie !.a(i unluckily
met Willi siiiiif opposii, >i. ill tuliin^ it. The
crown lamls of Kin^ Kilw.inl pa.sscd of course
to Ills succcs,Hor. Ah for the lands of otiicr men,
in William's llieory all was forfeited to the crown.
The law fill heir had heen driven to sei'k his kinjr-
dom in arms: no Kii^lishnian had helped him;
many Kiiirlishmen had fought a^'ainst him. All
tll n' were directly or indirectly tniitors. The
KiiiU nii^ht hiwliilly deal with the lands of all
iishisown. . . . After till! general redemptiim of
landB, gradually carriid out us William's power
lulvanccd, no general blow was dealt at English-
men as such. . . . Though the land had never
seen so great a contl.scation, or one so largely for
the liehoof of foreigners, yet there \va.s nothing
new in the thing it.sclf. . . . Conliscationof land
was tile every-day punishment for various public
anil private crimes. . . . Once granting the
original w rong of his coming at nil and bringing
a host of strangers with him, there is singularly
little to lilanie in the acts of the C'oniiueror." —
K. A. Freeman, ]\'illiiiiii (he Conqueror, pp. 102-
104, 120.— "After each elTort [of revolt] the royal
lianil was laid on more heavily: more and more
land changed owners, and with the change of
owners the title changed. Tlie complieateil and
unintelligible irregularities of the Anglo-Saxon
tenures were exchanged for tlie simple and imi-
forin fejidal theory. ... It was not the change
from alodial to feudal so much as from confusion
to order. The actual amount of dispossession
was no doubt greatest in the higher ranks." — W.
Stubbs, Conxt. Ilixt. of En;/., ch. 9, »ed. }».').
A. D. 1069-1071. — The Camp of Refuge in
the Fens. — "In the northern partof Canibridge-
.shire there is a vast extent of low and marshy
land, intersected in every direction by rivers. All
the waters from the centre of England which do
not How into the Thames or the Trent, empty
themselves into the.se marshes, which in the lat-
ter end of autumn overflow, cover the land, and
are charged with fogs and vapours. A portion
of this damp and swampy country was then, as
now, calleil the Isle of Ely; another the Isle of
Thorney, a third the Isle (if Croyland. This dis-
trict, almost a moving bog, impraeticiible for cav-
alry and for soldiers heavily armed, had more
than once served as a refuge for the Saxons in
the time of the Danish conquest; towards the close
of the year 1060 it became the rendezvous of sev-
eral bands of patriots from various quarters, as-
sembling against the Normans. Former chief-
tains, now dispossessed of their lands, succes-
sively repaired hither with their clients, some by
land, others by water, by the mouths of the rivers.
They here constructed entrenchments of earth and
wood, and established an extensive armed station,
which t(K)k the name of the Camp of Refuge.
The fon-igners at tirst hesitated to attack them
amidst their rushes and willows, and thus gave
them time to transmit messages in every direction,
at home and abroad, to the friendu of old England.
Hecome powerful, tliey undertiKik a [mrtisan war
by land and liv sea, or, as the coiKjuerors called
it, roblx-ry and jdracy." — A. Thierry, Jlint. of the
Coi//. of Hiiij. by the J\i'orm<iiiM, bk. 4. — " Against
the new tyranny the free men of the Danelagh
and of N'orthiiinbria ro.sc. If Edward the do-
seendant of Ccrdie had been little to them, Wil-
liam the descendant of Hollo was still less. . . .
So they ros«', and fought; too late, it may be, and
without unity or i)urpo.se; and they were worsted
by an enemy who had both unity and purpose;
whom superstition, greed, and feudal discipline
kept togetlier, at least in England, in one compact
body of unscrupulous and terrible confederates.
Anil theirs was a land worth lighting for — a good
land and large: from Iliiinbcrmoutli inland to the
Trent and merry SherwiMMl, across to Chester and
the Dee, round "by Leicester iind the five burghs
of tl'c Danes; eastward agiiin to Huntingdon and
Cambridge (then a jioor village on the site of an
old Koniaii town); and then northward again into
the wide fens, the land of the Girvii, where the
great central plateau of England slides into the
sea, to form, from the rain and river washings o*
eiglit shires, lowlands of a fertility inexhausti-
ble, because ever-growing to this day. Into those
fens, as into a natural fortres.s, the Anglo- Danish
noblemen crowded down instinctively from the
inland to make their last stand against tl. • 7<>euch.
. . . Jlost gallant of them all, and their lea>ie'- 'n
the fatal struggle against William, was Ilcreward
the Wake, Lord of Bourne and ancester of that
family of Wake, the arms of whom appear on the
cover of this book." — C. Kingsley, Jlereicard the
Wilke, Prelude. — The defence of the Camp of Ref-
uge was maint^iined until October, 1071, when
the stronghold is said to have been betrayed by
the monks of Ely, who grew tired of the disturb-
ance of their peace. But Ilcreward did not sub-
mit. He made his escape and various accounts
are given of his subsequent career and his fate.
— E. A. Freeman, IliHt. of the Nonnan Conq. of
Eng., eh. 20, »eet. 1.
Also IN: C. M. Yonge, Cameo» from Eng. Hist.,
first series, e. 8.
A. D. 1085-1086.— The Domesday Survey
and Domesday Book. — " The distinctive char-
acteristic of the Norman kings '[of England] was
their exceeding greed, and the administrative
system was so directed as to insure the exaction
of the highest possible' imposts. From this bent
originated the great registration that William
[the Conqueror] caused to be taken of all lands,
whether holden in fee or at rent; as well as the
census of the entire population. The respective
registers were preserved in the Cathedral of
Winchester, and by the Norman were designated
'le grand role,' ' le role royal,' 'le role de Win-
chester'; but by the Saxons were termed 'the
Book of the Last Judgment,' ' Doomesdaege Boc,'
■Doomstlay Book.'" — E. Fischel, 2'he English
Constitution, ch. 1. — For a different statement
see the following : ' ' The recently attempted
invasion from Denmark seems to have impressed
the king with the desirability of an accurate
knowledge of his resources, military and fiscal,
both of which were based upon the land. The
survey was completed in the remarkably short
space of a single year [1085-1086J. In each
shire the commissioners made their mquiries by
the oaths of the sheriffs, the barons and their
Norman retainers, the parish priests, the reeves
794
ENGLAND, 10b5-1086.
Surrry.
ENOLANI), 1087-1133.
and six rrorls of cnr\\ townslilp. Tlic result of
their liilMHirs was ti ininiitc <|(s( liptinu of all tlic
laiiiis of the kin^ilont, with the ixccptioii of the
four northern eountles of Northuniberlanil, Cuni-
iuTland, Westmoreland and Durham, and part
of what is now Lancashire. It enumerates the
tenants in-ehief, under tenants, freeholders, vil-
leins, and serfs, deserilx's the nature and olilij^a-
tlons of the teiuires, the value in the time of Kinjr
Eadward, at the conipiest, and at the datt; of the
survey, and, whieh jrives the key to the whole
ln(|uiry, informs th<! kinj; whether any advanee
in the valuation eould he made. . . . The returns
were transmitted to Winehester, digested, and
recorded iu two volumes whieh liave descended
to po.sterity under the name of Domesday Hook.
The name it.s«'lf is i)rol)ably derived from Domus
Dei, the aiijiellation of a chapel or vault of the
cathedral at Winehester in which the survey was
at first deposited." — T. P. Taswell-Lan^jmead,
EiKjHiih Count. Hint., rh. 2. — "Of the motives
whieh induced the Conqueiwr and his council to
midertake the Survey we have very little relia-
1)1(^ information, and much that Imis been written
on the subject savours more of a deduction from
the result than of n knowledj^e of the imme<liate
facts. Wo have the statement from the Char-
tulary of St. Mary's, Worcester, of the appoint-
ment of the Commissioners by the king him.self
to make the Survey. Wo have also the heading
of the ' Inquisitio Eliensis ' which purports to
give, and probably does truly give, the items of
the articles of inriuiry, which sets forth as fol-
lows: L What is the manor called? IL W^ho
held it in the time of King Edward ? IIL Who
now holds it? IV. How many hides ? V. What
teams are there in demesne ? VI. What teams
of the men? VII. What villans ? VIIL What
cottagers? IX. What bondmen ? X. What free-
men and what sokcmen ? XI. AVliat woods ?
XII. What meadow? XIIL What pastures?
XIV. What mills? XV. What fisheries? XVL
What is added or taken away? XVII. What
the whole was worth together, and what now ?
XVIII. IIow miich each freeman or sokeman
had or has ? All this to be estimated three times,
viz. in the time of King Edward, and when
King William gave it, and how it is now, and if
more can be had for it than has been hid. This
document is, I think, the best evidence we have
of the fnnu of the inquiry, and it tallies strictly
with the form of the various returns as we now
liave them. . . . All external evidence failing,
we arc driven back to the Record itself for evi-
dence of the Conquerors intention in framing it,
and anyone who carefully .studies it will be driven
to the mevitable conclusion that it was framed
and designed in the spirit of perfect equity.
Long before the Conquest, in the period between
the death of Alfred and that of Edward the Con-
fessor, the kingdom had been rapidly declining
into a state of disorganisation and decay. The
defence of the kingdom and the administration
of justice and keeping of the peace could not be
maintained by the king t. revenues. The tax of
Danegeld, instituted by Ethelr"d at first to buy
peace of the Danes, and afterwards to maintain
the defence of the kingdom, had more and more
come to be levied unequally and unfairly. The
Church had obtained enormous remissions of its
liability, and its possessions were constantly in-
crciising. Powerful subjects had obtained further
remission, and the tax bad come to be irregularly
eolIeet<'d and was burdensome tipon the smaller
holders and their ])oor tenants, wiiile tiie nobility
and the Churcii escaped with a sujall share in
tlie burden. In short the tax had come to be
collected U|ion an old and uncorrected a.sseHs-
ment. It !iad probably (hvindlc<l in amount, and
at last had been idtiniatcly remitted by Kdward
the Confessor. Anarchy and confusion appears
to have reigned throughout the realm. TheCon-
(pieror was threatened with foreign invasion,
an<l j)re.s.se(l on all sides by complaints of unfair
taxation on the part of his subjects. Estates
had been divided and sulxlivided, and the inci-
dence of the tax was une(|\ial and \injust. He
had to face the dillicidties befon; him and to
count the resources of his kingdom for its defence,
and th(! means of doing .so were not at hand. In
this situation his masierlv and order-loving Nor-
mim mind instituted tins great incpdry, but
ordered it to be taken (as 1 maintain the study of
the Hook will show) in the most pul)lic and open
manner, and with the utmost impartialitv, with
the view of levying the taxes of the kingdom
e()ually and fairly iipon all. The articles of his
inipiiry show that he was jjrepared to .study the
resoiirces of his kingdom and consider the lia-
bilitv of his subjects from every jiossiljlc point
of view." — Stuart Moore, On, the Sliitli/ of JJohdm-
(hitf liiHik (DomiHdtiy iStiitlicx, r. 1). — "Domesday
Book is a vast mine of materials for the social and
economical history of our coimlry, a mine almost
inexhaustible, and to a great extent as yet
unworked. Among national documents it is
unique. There is nothing that ai)proaches it in
interest and value except the Landnamab6k,whieli
records the names of the original settlers in Ice-
land and the designations they bestowed upon
the places where they settled, and tells us how
the island was taken up and apportioned among
them. Such a document for England, describ-
ing the way in which our forefathers divided the
territory they toncjuen-d, and how ' they called
the lands after their own names,' woidd, indeed
be priceless. But the Domesday Book does, in-
directly, supply materials for the history of the
English as well as of the Norman Concpiest, for it
records not only how the lands of England were
divided among the Norman host which con-
quered at Senlac, but it gives us also the names
of the Saxon and Danish holders who possessed the
lands before the great battle which changed all
the future history of England, and enables us to
trace the extent of the transfer of the land from
Englishmen to Normans ; it shows how far the
earlier owners were reduced to tenants, and by
its enumeration of the classes of population —
freemen, sokcmen, villans, cottiers, and slaves
— it indicates the nature and extent of the earlier
conquests. Thus we learn that in the W\'st of
England slaves were numerous, while in the East
they were almost unknown, and hence we gather
that in the districts first subdued the British
population was exterminated or driven off, while
in the West it was reduced to servitude. " — I. Tay-
lor, Domendap Survivals {Domesday Studies, v. 1).
Also in: E. A. Freeman, Hist, of the Norvmn
Conquest, ch. 21-22 and npp. A in v. 5. — W. do
Gray Birch, Domesday Book. — F. W. JIaitlaud,
Domesday Book (Diet. Pol. Econ.).
A. D. 1087-1135. — The sons of the Con-
queror and their reigns. — William the Con-
queror, when he died, left Normandy and Maine
to his elder son Robert, the English crown to
795
ENOIiANP, 10H7-1135.
.Son* "/
thf CuHilurnir.
ENGLAND. 1087-1188.
r
hl« Mrrmjrcr (mhi, Wllliiirii, ciill'd Unfim, nr llir
H»<l. uiiil only 11 l<%'iKV of i'.IJMMt to liU third won,
Hfiirv, culliil MiiiiK liTc, or Tin- Scliolar. Tlu"
('oii(|"ii(TorM Imlf lirotliir, Oilo, kihui lM'j:im to
|>irtmiili- tin- Noriimii Imroiis in Kiik'Ii""' to iIIh-
i.liiic Williiim Hufiis nil 1 i>lant Holxri on tlic
Kii^'IIhIi tliroiic. " Tlic « JMiiii of Holicrl to Hnc-
<<r<l liiH fiitlicr in Kiiiflaii(l, wiis siipporliil Jiy
the ri-|M(lt(| rl^'litH of i>rlino>;cniiiiri'. Hut tlic
AhkIo •'^'•xoii «rowii liiiil always Imcii clrctivc.
. . . I*rinioL"iiitiirf . . . pivc at tliat time im
riirlil fo llir ( idwii of Kii>rlaiui. indrjicnilcnt of
llif <lt(lioti of its |.arliMiii(iitary iiHKcniiily. IIiiv-
iiij,' •.(•(•nrcd this tillr, tlic powrr of Hiifiis rested
on tlie foundation timst eoiiu'eiiial witii the feel-
iiiirs and institutions of tiie nation, and from tlieir
partiality received a popular support, which was
WMin exiiericnced til he iiiipre>:nalile. The dan
jfcr coinpdied the kinj; to court his jieople hv
promises to diminish their L'rievances; which
drew ;t(»,(MH» kniffhts spontaneously to his Imii-
ners, happy to liuvc jfot u sove'reijrn disiinct
from hated Normandy. The invasion of Uoliert,
thus resisted liy the Knjrlish people, elTocted
nothiiifc hut some tem|)orarv deviislations. . . .
The stale of Normandy, niiijer Koliert's ndminis-
tratioii, for some time furnished an amjilc field
for his amhitioiis unile's activity. It continued
to exhil)it a nem'lijreiil >;overiiment in its most
vicious form. . . . Odo's politics only facilitated
the reaimexation of Normandy to Kll^'lalld. Hut
this event was not completed in ^\'illiamâ– s reifin.
When he retorted the attempt of Hohert, liy an
invasion of Normandy, the >,'reat haroiis of both
<(ir',itries found theinseives endaiiffered hy the
<(>ntlict and combined their interest to jxTsuade
their respective sovcreitrns to a fraternal pacitl-
cation. The most important article of their re-
conciliation provided, that if citiier should die
without issue, the survivor should inherit his
•lominioiis. Jlostilitiis were then abandoned;
mutual courtesies ensued; and l{obert visited
Knjrland as his brother's gticst. The mind of
William the Ked King, was cast in no conimon
mould. It had all the greatness and the defects
of the chivalric character, in its strong but rude.-;!
state. Impetuous, daring, original, magnani-
mous, and muniticeiit: it was also harsh, tyran-
nical, and sellish; conceited of its own jiowers,
loose in its moral principles, and disdaining con-
Sfcuiences. . . . While Lanfranc; lived, William
hrtvl a counsellor whom he respected, and whose
goo<l opinion \u\ was careful to jireserve. . . .
The death of Lanfranc removed the only man
whose wisdom and inlluenee could have melior-
ated the king's ardent, but undisciplined tem-
per. It was his misfortune, on this event, to
choose for his favourite minister, mi able, but an
unprinciided man. . . . The minister advised
the king, on the death of every jirelate, to seize
all his temporal i>oss<'sslons. . . . The great reve-
nues obtained from this violent innovation,
tempted both the king and his minister to in-
crease its pnuluetivencss, by deferring the nom-
inntion of every new prelate for an indetinite
peri(Ml. Thus he kept many bishoprics, and
among them the see of Canterbury, vacant for
some years; till a severe illness alarming his con-
science, lie suddenly aiijiointed Anselni to the
dignity. ... His disagreement with Anselm
soon began. The prelate injudiciously began
the battle by asking tlie king to restore, not only
the possessions of his see, which were enjoyed
by I-anfranc — n fair re(iue«t — liuf also tho Inmli
which had before that lime iM'limged to it ; a de-
mand that, after so many yetkrs alteration of prop-
erty, ( tiuld not lie <'oinpficd with without great
disturbance of other pcrsiins. Anselm also exacted
of the king that in all things which concerned
the church, his counsels should be taken in pref-
erence to every other. . . . Though Anselm, as
a literary man' was an honour and ii bcnetit to
his age,' yet his monastic and studious liiibitH
]>revcnteil him from having that social wisdom,
that knowledge of human nature, that discreet
use of his own virtuous tirmness, and that mild
management of turbulent power, which might
have enableil him to have exi'rted much of the
inlluenee of Laiifraiu; over the mind of his sov-
ereign. . . . Anselm, seeing the jhurches and
abbeys op])resscd in their i»ro|)erty, by the royal
ordirs, resolved to visit Homr-, and to concert
with the pope the measures most lulajited to
overawe the king. . . . William threatened,
that if he did go to Home, he would sei/.e all the
jiossessions of the archbishopric. Anselm de-
clared, that he would rather travel naked and on
foot, than desist from his resolution; and Ik;
went to Dover with his jdlgrim's stall and wal-
let. He was searched before his fleparture, that
he might carry away no money, aiul was at last
allowed to sail'. Hut the king immediately exe-
( uted his threat, and sequestered all his lands
and jtroperty. This was about three years be-
fore the end of the reign. . . . Anselm conlinuc<l
in Italy till William's death. The pos.session of
Normandy was a leading object of William's
ambition, and he gradually attaiiu'd a prepon-
derance in it. His tirst invasion compelled Hobert
to make some cessions; these wen; increased on
his next attack: and when Hobert (h-termined
to join the Crusaders, he mortgaged the whole
of Normandy to William for three years, for
1(),(KK) marks. He obtained the usual success of
a powerful invasion in Wales. The natives were
overpowered on the i)lains, Init lumoyed the in-
vaders in their mountains, lie luarched an army
against Malcolm, king of Scotland, to jiunish hfs
incursions. Robert advised the Scottish king to
conciliate William; Malcolm yielded to his coun-
sel and aecomj)anied Hobert to the English court,
but on his return, was treacherously attacked by
Mowbray, the earl of Northumltria, and killed.
William regretted the pertidious crtielty of the
acti(m. . . . The government of Williiuinippears
to have been beneficial, both to England and
Normand} . To tlie church it was ojipressive.
. . . He had scarcely reigned twelve years, when
he fell by a violent death." Ho was hunt-
ing with 11 few attendants in the New Foa-st.
"It liappened that, his friends dispersing in
l)ursuit of game, he was left ahme, as some
authorities intimate, with Walter Tyrrel, a noble
knight, wlnmi lie had bmught out of PYance,
and admitted to his table, and to whom he was
much attached. As the sun was about to set, a
stag passed before the king, who discharged an
arrow at it. . . . At the same moment, another
stag crossing, "Walter Tyrrel discharged an arrow
at it. At tills precise juncture, a shaft struck
the king, and buried itself in his breast. He
fell, without a word, upon the arrow, and ex-
pired on the spot. ... It seems to be a ques-
tionable point, whether Walter Tyrrel actually
I shot the king. That opinion was certainly the
I most prevalent at the time, both here and in
796
KNOhANI). l()H7-niW.
AVi't/n «/ SIritktn.
KN(}|.ANI), lin.VllM.
KniiK'f. . . . Niiiir of tlir millmrilii'H intitnatc ii
Iti'lii'f of II |)iir|i<)Hiil iiNHaHsiiiatidn; ami. llirrilorf,
it wiiiilil Im; iiiijUNl iiDw Id iiiiptiti' it to any (inc.
. . . Ilciirv was liiiiitini: in ii (iillVrcnt pint nf
llic New I'-'ori'sl wluii Uliliis fell, . . . He left
till' Ixxiy til tiic raHiial ( liaril y of llii> |iasHiiii;
rustic, anil nxlc prccipitiitcly tn Wiiiciicsn r, tn
wi/.c till! royal trcaHiirc . . . He olilaiiiiil the
trciiHiirc, anil pnicccilintr Imstily to l.iuiilnn, was
on till- foliowin^ Sunilay, tlic lliinl ilay after
Williams ilcalli. clcctnl kiiiu:, ami crowncil. . . .
lie be-all his rci>;n liy removing; tiic iinpupiilar
ap'iilH of liiH unfortunate lirotiier. lie reealieil
Ansclm, anil cuiieiliateil the (â– lerf;\'. lie >;r:i>i-
lieil tlie natiiin, by alioli.sliin;( llie upprcHHive c\-
aclioiis of the previous reiun. He ii.ssurcil many
benclits to the bamiiN, anil by ii charter, si^neil
oti tile (lay of his eoninalion. restored to the peo-
|)le tlieir Anglo-Saxon laws anil privileyis. as
amemled by his father; a measure which eniled
tlie pecuniary oppri'ssioiiH of his brother, and
which favoured the >;i'owin,i; lilierlies of the na-
tion. The Conqueror had noticed Henry's ex-
l)andin;; intellect very early ; had >;iven him the
liesi education which Ww age could supply. . . .
He became the most learned monarch of his day,
and aci|uii'ed and deserved the Hurnaiue of lieau-
I'lerc, or llni! scholar. No wars, no cares of
Btiite. could iiflerwards deprive him of his lovi;
of liteniture. The nation soon felt the impul.se
and the bent'tU of tlieir sovereign's intellectual
taste, lie acceded at the age of IVJ. and gratified
the nation by marrying and crowning iMathilda,
(laughter of the sisterof llduar Kthcling by Mal-
colm till! king of Scotlan.l, w lio had Iteen waylaid
and killed." — S. Turner, J/ixt. of h'/if/lund ihirin;/
the Mtiltlh Af/tn, r. 1, r/i. .'i-tV — The Norman
lords, hating the "English ways" of Henry, were
Noon in rebellion, undertaking to put Hubert of
Nornmndy (who had returned from the ("rusadc)
in his place. The (|uarrel went on till the battle
of Tenchebrav, lltMf, in which Hobert was de-
feate(l and taken {tri.soner. He was impri.soncd
for life. The diicliy and the kin^^lom were
again united. The war in Ts'orinundy led to a
war with Louis king of France, who had es-
poused Robert's cause. It was ended by tin;
battle of Hr(^niule, 111!), where the Frencii suf-
fered a bad defeat. In Henry's reign all south
AVales was connuered; but the north Welsh
princes hehl out. Another expedition amiinst
them was iireparing, when, in li;r», Henry fell
ill at the Ca.stle of Lions in Normandy, and died.
— E. A. Freeman, 'J'fir rn'r/n uf Williaiii ItuJ'tiit
ami (levfHKtiiii of Htnn/ 1.
Ai.so IN: Sir F. I'ulgravc, Hint, of Kormandy
ami J'Jiif/. , V. 4.
A. D. 1 135-1154.— The miserable reign of
Stephen.— Civil war, anarchy and wretched-
ness in England.— The transition to heredi-
tary monarchy.— After the death of William
the Conipieror, the Engli.sh throne vas occupieil
in succession by two of his sons, William IL, or
William Uiifus (l()K7-ll()0), aial llenrv I., or
Henry ncauclerk (11(H>-11;{,')). The latier out-
lived his oiKi legitimate son, and bc(|Ueathed the
crown at his death to his daughter, .Matilda,
widow of the Emperor Henry V. of (termany and
now wife of Geoffrey, Count of An.joii. This
hitt('r marriage had been very luiiiopular, both
in England and Normandy, and a strong i)arty
refused to recognize the Empress Matilda, as she
was commonly culled. This party niaiutaiued
54
the Hii|>erior claims of the family of .\(leli»,
daiiLditer of William the ('on(|Ueror. who had
married the Earl of Hlois. Naturally their choict!
would liaVC fllllell upon TlieoliaM of lilois. |||(>
eldest of .^dela's soils; but his more enterpris-
ing younger brother Stephen supplanted liim.
Hastening to EiiLrland. and winning the favour
of the citi/.ens of London, Stephen seeiired th(>
royal treasure and persuaded a council of peers
to Clect him king. A most grievous civil war
ensued, whii li lasted for nineteen ii rrilile years,
during which long period there was aiiareli\ and
great wreteliedness in Kngland. " The land wtiH
tilled with castles, and the castles with armed
banditti, wlio seem to have carried on their ex-
tortions under colour of the military commanilM
bestowed by Stephen on t'Very jtetty castellan.
Often the vi r\ bilfriesof churches were fortified.
On tlie ]ioor lay tlie burden of building these
strongholds; the rn b suffered in their donjeoiiH.
.Many were slarved to death, and Ibese were the
happiest. (Mhers were thing into cellars filled
witli reptiles, or hung up l)y the tliumbs till they
told where their treasures were coiieealeil. or
cri|ipled in frames whicli did not suffer them to
move, or held just resting on the ground by
sharp iron collars round the neck. The ICarl of
Kssex used to send out spies who begged from
door to door, and then reported in what liousen
wealth was still left ; the alinsgivcrs wen; preH-
cntly sei/.ed and imprisoned. The towns that
could no longer ]iay the blackmail demanded
from them were burned. . . . Sometimes the
jieasants, maddened by misery, en ..ded to tho
roads that led from a field of battle, and smote
down the fugitives without any distinction of
sides. The bishops cursed ^'iiiiily, when the very
churehes were burned and monks robbed. 'To
till the ground was to ploUf.h the sea; the earth
bare no corn, for the land was all laid waste by
such deeds, and men said opeily that Christ slept,
and his saints. Such things, and more than we
can say, suffered wiaiineleeii winters for our sins'
{\. S. Chronicle). . . . Manv soldiers, sickened
with the unn.ntnral ^\ar, im't on the white cross
and sailed for a noliler battle-field in the East."
As Matilda's son llciiiy — afterwards Henry II.
— grew to niiinhood, the feeling in his favor
gained streiiL^th and his |iarty made head a^rainst
the weak and incompi^tent Stephen. Finally, in
IIT):!, ]»eace was brought about under an agree-
ment "that Stephen should wear the crown till
his death, and Henry receive the homage of the
lords and towns of the realm as heir apparent."
Stephen died the next year and Henry came to
the throne with little 'further disjiute. — C. II.
Pe.'irson, Jf(Kf. (f h'liff. (Inrin;/ the K<irlji mid
Middh' A'j'x. cfi. 2H. — "Stephen, as a king, was
an admitted failure. I canno . however, but
view with sus|iici(in the causes assigned to his
failure by often unfriendly chroniclers. That
their criticisms had some foundation it would not
be jiossible to deny. Hut in the first pl-ice. had
he enjoyed better fortune. We should have heard
less of his incapacity, and in the second, theso
writers, not enjoying the same stand-point as
ourselves, were, 1 think, somewhat inclined to
mista'ive cll'ects for causes. . . . His weakness
throughout his reign . . . was due to two (causes,
each supi)lementiiig the other. These were — (1)
the es.sentially unsatisf. 'tory character of his
])osition. as resting, virt illy, on a comi)act that
he should be I '"•' ^'^ '"• only us he gave sutls-
u:
iVi
ENGLAND, 1135-1154
lieiffti of Stephen.
ENGLAND, 1135-1 IM.
^d
faction to tliow wli. had plarc<l liim on tlic
throiH'; CJ) tlic •xiMtncc of a lival claim, liaiij;-
\u^ over liiiii frniii the first, like tiic swonl of
IhiiiKHlcH, anil atTurlliIl^' a ]c\vr liy wliicli tlic
nialcoiitc iits could compel liirn to adliciv to the
oriirinal imdcrstaiidini:, or cvni to Milunit to
further demands. . . . The iiositioii of his op-
ponents tlirouirhout liis reifrii would .seem to
have resleil on two assumptions. The first, that
a lireaeii, on his part, of the 'contract' justi-
lied ipso facto revolt on tiicirs; the second, that
their allegiance to the kiiii,' was a purely feudal
relation, and, as such, could he thrown olT at any
moment liy performinir the famous dillidatio.
Tlii.s essential feature of continental feudalism
hail lieen rijridly excluded )}y the Comiueror.
lie had taken advantau'c, as is well known, of
his j)osition as an Knirlish king, to extort an
alleiriance froiii his Norman followers more abso-
lute than he could have claimed as their feudal
lord. It was to Slepheifs peculiar jiosition that
was due the introduction for a time of this jier-
nicious i)rinciple into England. . . . Passing
now to the other jioint, the existence of a rival
claim, we a[»i)roach a subject of great interest,
the theory of the sucression to the English ( 'rown
at what may he termed the crisis of transition
fron> the principle of election (within the royal
liouse) to that of hereditary right according to
feudal rules. For the rigiit view on this sub-
ject, we turn, as ever, to l)r. Stubbs. who, with
his usmil souiiil judgment, writes thus of the
Norman period: — "The crown then continueil lo
l»e elective. . . . But whilst the elective prin-
ciple was maintained in its fulness where it was
necessary or po,ssible to maintain it, it is quite
certain tliat the right of inlieritance, and inherit-
ance as primogeniture, was recognized as co-
onlinute. . . . The measures taken by Henry L
for securing the crown to his own children,
whilst they prove the acceptance of the heredi-
tary principle, jtrove also the importance of
strengthening it by the recognition of the elec-
tive theory.' 5Ir. Freeman, though writing with
a strong bias in favour of the elwctive theory, is
fully justified in his main argument, namely,
that t>tei)hen 'was no iisu.-]»er in the sense in
which the word is vulgarly used.' He urges,
ajiparcntly with perfect truth, that Stephen's
olTeuce, in the eyes of Ids contemp. .ie.s, lay in
h's breaking his solemn oath, and not in his sup-
planting 11 rightful heir. And he ni)tly suggests
that tlie wretchedness of his reign may have
hastened the growth of that new belief in the
divine right of the heir to the throne, which first
appears under Henry II., and in the pages of
William of Newburgh. So far as Stephen is
concerned the case is clear enough. But we
have also to consider the Empress. On what did
she base her claim V 1 think that, as implied in
Dr. Stubbs' words, she l)ase(l it »)U a double, not
a single, ground. She claimed the kingdom as
King Henry's daughter ('regis Henrici tiliu'),
but she claimed it further because the succession
had been assured to her by oath (' sibi juratum ')
as such. It is important to observe that the oath
in (piestion can in no way be regarded in the
light of an election. . . . The Empress and her
partisans must have largely, to Siiy the least,
based their claim on her right to the throne as
her father's heir, and . . . she and they appealed
to the oath as the admission and recognition of
that right, nither than as partaking in anv way
whatever of the character of a free election. . . .
The sex of the Em])ri'.ss was the drawback to her
claim. Hud her brother lived, there can be little
(piestion that he would, as u matter of course,
have succeeded liis father at his death. Or
again, had Henry II. been old enough to suc-
ceed his grandfather, he would, w(! may be sure,
have done so. . . . Broadly sjjcaking, lo sum up
the evidence here collected, it tends to the belief
that the obsolescence of the right of election to
the English crown jircsents considerable analogj'
to that of caiionii'al election in the ca.se of Eng-
lish bishojjrics. In both cases a free election de-
generated into a mere assent to ii choice already
made. AVe see the process of change already in
full operation when Henry I. endeavours to ex-
tort beforehand from th<! magnates their n.ssent
to his daughter's succes.sion, and when they sub- •
sefpicntly complain of this attemjit to dictate to
them on the subject. AVe catch sight of it again
when his daughter bases her claim to the crown,
not on any free election, hut on her rights as her
fathe-'s heir, confirmed by the above assent.
We see it, lastly, when Stephen, though owing
his crown to election, claims to rule by Divine
right (' Dei gratia '), and attempts to reduce that
election to notliing more than a national 'assent'
to his succession. Obviously, the whole ques-
tion turned on whether the election was to be
held first, or was to be a mere ratiflcation of a
choice already made. . . . In comparing Stephen
with his successor the difference between their
circumstances has been insufliciently allowed for.
At Stephen's accession, thirty years of legal and
financial oppression had rendered unpopular the
power of the Crown, and bad led to an im-
patience of offlcial restraint which opened the
path to a feudal reaction: at the accession of
Henry, on the cf)ntrary, the evils of an enfeebled
administration and of feudalism run mad had
made all men eager for the advent of a strong
king, and had prejiared them to welcome the in-
troduction of his centralizing administrative re-
forms. He anticii)ati'd the position of the liouse
of Tudor at the close of the Wars of the Roses,
and combined with it the advantages which
Charles II. derived from the Puritan tyranny.
Again, Stephen was hampered from the first by
his weak jiosition as a king on sullerance, whereas
Henry came to ids work unhamijcred bj' com-
pact or concession. Lastly, Stephen was con-
fronted throughout by a rival claimant, who
formed a splendid rallying-point for all the dis-
content in his realm : but Henry reigned for as
long as Stephen without a rival to trouble him;
aiui when he found at length a rival in his own
son, a claim far weaker than that which had
threatened his predecessor seemed likely for a
time to break his power as effectually as thci"
followers of the Empress had broken that of
Stephen. He may only, indeetl, have owed his
escape to that eilicient administration which
years of strength and safety had given him the
time to construct. It in no way follows from
these considerations that Henry was not superior
to Stephen; but it does, surely, suggest itself
that Stephen's disadvantages were great, and
that had l.e enjoyed better fortune, we might
have heard less of his defects." — J. H. Round,
Geoffrey de Maiidcmlle, ch. 1.
Albc IN; Mrs. J. R. Green, Henry the Second,
eh. 1. — See, also, Standaud, Lattle of the
(A. D. 1137).
r98
ENGLAND, 115-1-1189.
First of the
Anr/evin KiiigM.
ENGLAND. 1162-1170.
A. D. 1154-1189. — Henry H., the first of the
Angevin kings (Plantagenets) and his empire.
— llt-nry II., wlio aiPic to the En^'lisli throne on
Stephen's deiith, wu.s already, by ttu; death of
his father, Geoifrcy, Count of Anjou, the head
of the irreat house of Anjou, in Fniiice. From
his fatlier lie inlierited Anjou, Touraiiie and
Maine; tlirou;,'h liis mother, ^latilda, dauirhter
of Henry L, lie received the dukedom of Nor-
mandy as well as the kinjidom of England; by
marriage with Eleanor, of A(iuit;une, orGuiennc;,
he added to his empire the jirincely domain
whicii included Gascony, I'nitoi;, .^aintoiigo,
Perigord, Limousin, Angoiunois, with claims
of suzerainty over Auvergiie and Toulouse.
"Henry found himself at twenty-one ruler of
dominions such as no king before him had ever
dreamed of uniting. He was master of both
sides of the English Cliannel, and by his alliance
with his uncle, the Coinit of Flanders, he had
conunand of the French coast from the Scheldt
to the Pyrenees, while his claims on Toulouse
would carry him to the shores of the Mediter-
ranean. His subjects told with (ride liow ' his
empire reached from the Arctic. Ocean to the
Pyrenees'; there was no monarch save the Em-
peror himself who ruled over such va^t domains.
. . . His aim [a few years later] s(fems to have
been to rival in some sort the Empire of the V/est,
and to reign as an over-king, with sub-kings of
his various provinces, and England as one of
them, around him. lie was connected with all
the great ruling houses. . . . England was forcd
out of her old isolation ; her interest in the world
with' 'twas suddenly awakened. English schol-
ars tiiionged the foreign tniivcrsities; English
chroniclers questioned travellers, scholars, am-
bassadors, as to what was passing abroad. The
infliience of English learning antl English state-
craft made itself felt all over Europe. Never,
perhaps, in all the liistory of England was there
a time wlien Englishmen played so great a part
abroad." The king who gathered tliis wide, in-
congruous empire xnider his sceptre, by mere
circumstances of birth and marriage, proved
strangely equal, in many respects, to its great-
ness. "He was a foreign king who never sjioke
the English tongue, who lived and moved for the
most part in a foreign camp, surrounded with a
motley host of Brabangons and hirelings. ... It
was under the rule of a foreigner such as this,
however, that the races of conquerors and con-
quered in England first learnt to feel that they
were; one. It was by liis power that England,
Scotland and Ireland were brought to some vague
acknowledgement of a common suzerain lord, and
the foundations laid of the United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland. It w as he who abol-
ished feudalism as a system of government, and
left it little more than a .system 01"" land tenure. It
was he who defined the relations established be-
tween Church and State, and decreed that in Eng-
land churchman as well as baron was to be held
under the Common Law. . . . His reforms estab-
lished the judicial system whose main outlines
have been jircserved to our own day. It was
through his ' Constitutions ' and his ' As.sizes ' that
it came to pass that over all the world the English-
speaking races are goveraed by English and not
by Roman law. It was by his genius for govern-
ment that the servants of tlu; royal household
became transforaied into ;Ministers of State. It
was Lc who gave England a foreign policy which
decided our continental relations for seven hun-
dred years. The inqiress which the iiersonality
of Henry II. left upon his time meets us wherever
we turn!" — Mrs. J. H. (ireeii, Jfenri/ the Smiiif,
ch. 1-2. — Henry II. and his two sons, liiclianl I.
(Cwur de Lion), and John, are distinguished,
sometimes, as the; Angevin kings, or kings of
the House of Anjou, and sometimes as the Plan-
tagenets, the latter name lieing thrived from a
boyish habit ascribed to Henry's father, Count
Geoifrey, of "adorning his cap with a sprig of
'plantageni.sta,' the broom which in early sum-
mer makes the open country of Anjou and Maine
a Maze of living gold." Richard retained and
ruled the great realm of his father; but John
lost most of his foreign inheritance, inchiding
Normandy, and became the unwilling benefac-
tor of England bj' stripping her kings of alien
interests and alien powers and bending their
necks to ^Magna Charta. — K. Norgatc, England
nndtv the Aiif/(rin Khif/ti.
Also in: W. Stubbs, The Earlt/ Plnntiif/cnfts.
— See, also, Aquitaink (GriENNE): A. J). lliH-
1152; Ikelano: A. I). ll(')i)-1175.
A. D. U62-1 170.— Conflict of King and
Church. — The Constitutions of Clarendon. —
Murder of Archbishop Becket. — "Archbishop
Theobald was at first the King's chief favmiritc
and adviser, but his health aiul his influence de-
clining, Becket [the Archdeacon of Canterbury]
was found apt for business as well as amusement,
and gradually became intrusted with the exer-
ci.se of all the powers of the crown. . . . The
exact time of his appointment as Chancellor has
not been ascertained, the records of the transfer
of the Great Seal not beginning till a sub.sequent
reign, and old biographers being always quite
careless about dates. But he certainly had this
dignity soon after Henry'saccession. . . . Becket
continued Chancellor till the year 1162, without
any abatement in his favour with the King, or
in the power which lie possessed, or in the
energy he displayed, or in the splendour of his
career. ... In April, llGl, Archbishop Theo-
Viald died. Henry declared that Becket should
succeed, — no doubt counting upon his co-opera-
tion in carrying on the jiolicy hitherto jmrsued
in checking the encroachments of the clergy and
of the see of Rome. . . . The same oi)iifion of
Becket's probable conduct was generally enter-
tained, and a crj- was raised that 'the Church
was in danger.' The J^nglisli bishops sent a
representation to Henry against the appointment,
and the electors long refused to obey his man-
date, saying that ' it was indecent tiiat a man
who was rather a soldier than a priest, and who
had devoted himself to hunting and falconry in-
stead of the .study of the Holy Scriptures, should
be placed in the chair of St. Augustine.'. . .
The universal e.xpectatitm was, that Becket
would now attempt the part .so successfully
played by Cardinal W'olsey in a succeeding age;
that. Chancellor and Archbisho]), he would con-
tinue the minister and ])ersonal friend of the
King; that he would study to support and e.\-
tciul ill the prerogatives of the; Crown, which he
himself was to e.vercise ; and that in the palaces
of whicli he was now master he would live with
increased magnificence and luxury. . . . Never
was there so wonderful a transformation.
Whether from a predetermined purpo.se, or from
a sudden change of inclination, he immediately
became in every respect an altered man. Instead
71)9
ENGLAND, 1162-1170. ihnry n.a^ul UcM. KNGLANI). 1102-1170.
of llie htatcly and fiistidioiis courlicr, was seen
tlu; liunibUf and .s()iialid ptnitcnt. Next his skin
lu; won; liair-cloth, j)(i|)iil(iiis with vermin; lie
lived upon roots, and liis drink was water, ren-
dered naiiseouH liy an infusion of fennel. Uy
way of further ])enance and inortilieation. he
fre(|Uint!v iiillieted stripes on Ids naked l)ack.
. . . lie sell! the (Jrcat Seal to Jlenry, in >ior-
inandy, with tiiis short rTiessaire, '1 desire thai
you will provide yourself with another Chan-
cellor, as I lind niy.self hardly suflicienl for the
duties of one ollite, and much le.-<s of two.' The
find patron, who '"id heen soeairer for his eleva-
tion, was now j^rievously (Iisii|)pointed and
alarmed. . . . He at oncu saw that he had been
deceived in his choice. . . . The jjrand struj.jij:le
which the Church was then makinj;f was, that all
churchmen should he entirely exempted from
the jurisdiction of the secular courts, whatever
crime they mijrht have connnitled. . . . Henry,
thinkin;: that he had a favoural)le opjiortunity
for lirin^'ini,' the dispute to a crisis, stnnmoned
un 1 ssemhly of all tiie i<relates at Westminster,
i.nd him.self put to them this plain cuiestion:
'Whether they were willinjj to submit to the;
ancient laws and customs of the kingdom '("
Their reply, framed by Ikeket, was: ' We are
Avilling, savinii; our own order.'. . . The King,
seeinir what was comi>rehende(l in the reserva-
tion, retired with evident marks of displeasure,
deprived Hecket of the government of Eye and
IJerkham.stead, and all the appointments" which
he held at the jileasure of tlie Crown, and uttered
threats as to seizing the; tcmi>oralities of all the
bi.shops, since they would not acknowledge their
allegiance to him as the head of the statu The
legate of I'ope Ale.x.inder, dreading a breach
with so jiowerful a prince at so uu.seiisonable a
juncture, advised Becket to submit for the mo-
ment; and he with his brethri'ii, retracting the
saving clause, ah.solutely promf.sed 'to oliserve
the laws and customs 'of the kingdom.' To
avoid all future disjuite, Henry resolvc'd to fol-
low up Ids victory by having these laws and
customs, as far as the C'hurch was concerned, re-
duced into a code, to be sanctioned by the legis-
lature, anil to be specifically ackno\'<led:red In-
all the bi.shops. This was" the origin of th"e
famous 'Constil)itions of Clarend<m."' IJecket
left the kingihan (1104). Several years later ho
made i>eac(! Avith 11< nry and returiied to Canter-
bury; but .soon he again disjdeased the King,
who cried in a rage, ' Who will rid me of this
turliuleiit priest? ' Four knights who were pres-
ent inmiediately went to Cauterluiry, where they
slew the Archbishop in the cathedral (December
20, 117*1). "The government tried to justify or
palliate the murder. The Archbishop of York
likeneil Thomas il Recket to Pharaoh, who died
bv the Divine vengeance, as a punishment for
his hardness of heart; and a proelamatiim xvas
issued, forbidding anv one to speak of Thomas
of Canterbury as a marlvr: but the feelinirs of
men were too strong to be cheeked bv authority â–
j)ieces of linen Avhicli had been diiiped in his
blood were preserved as relics; from the time of
his death il was li.lievi'd tliat miracles were
worked at his tomb; thither flocked hundreds of
thousands, in spite of the most violent threats of
punishment; at the did (if two vears he was can-
onised at Koine; and, till the br'eaking out of the
IJelormation, St. Thomas of Canterburv for
pilt'rimajjca aud prayers, was the most "distin-
guished .'^aint in England." — Lord Campbell,
Linn cf (//I Jjonl VlidiiciUoni, c/i. -i. — " What did
Henry II. ])ropose to do with i; clerk who was
accused of a crime ? . . . Without doing much
rioknce to the text, it is |)ossil)ie to put two dif-
ferent interi)retations upon that famous clau.sc
in the (.'onstitutions of Clarendon which deals
with criminous clerks. . . . Acctonling to what
.seems to be the commonest < iiinion, we might
comment upon this clause i '-uch words
as these: — (Mences of which .. may be ac-
cused are of two kinds. They arc temporal or
they are ecclesiastical. Uiuler the former head
fall murder, rolibery, larceny, rape, and the like;
under the latter, incontinence, heresy, disobedi-
ence to superiors, breach of rules relating Xo \\\v
conduct of divine service, and so f(jrlh. If
charged with an oiTence of the temporal kind,
the clerk must staiul his trial in tlic king's court;
his trial, his sentence, Avill be like that of a lay-
man. For an ecclesiastical offence, on the other
hand, he will be trie' in the court Christian.
The king reserves to li. ourt the right to decide
what olfeiices are temiioral, what ecclesiastical;
also he as.serts the right to .send delegates to super-
vise the ])roceedings of the spiritual tribunals.
. . . Let us attempt a rival commentary. The
author of this clause is not thinking of two dif-
ferent classes of ollences. The imrely ccclesi-
a.stieal oirenccs are not in debate. Xo one doubts
that for these a man will !)(â– tried in and punished
by the spiritual court. He is thinking of the
grave crimes, of murder and the like. Now
every such crime is a breach of temporal law,
and it is also a breach of canon law. The clerk
who commits murder breaks the king's jieacc,
but ho also infringes the divine law, and — no
canonist will doubt this — ought to be degraded.
Very well. A clerk is accused of such a ciiine.
He is summoned before the king's court, and he
is to answer there — let us mark this word re-
spondere — for what he ought to answer for
there. What ought he to answer for there V The
breach of the king's peace and the felon}-. When
he has answered, . . . then, without any trial, he
is to be sent to the ecclesiastical court. In that
(ourt he will have to answer as an ordained clerk
accused of homicide, and in that court there will
be a trial (res :bi tractabitur). If the spiritual
court convicts him it will degrade him, and
thenceforth the church must no longer protect
him. He will be brought back into the king's
court. . . . and having been brought back, no
longer a clerk but a mere layman, he will be
sentenced (probably without any further trial) to
the layman's punishment, death or mutilation.
The scheme is this; accusation and j)lca in the
tempond court; trial, conviction, degradation, in
the ecclesiastical court; sentence mi the temporal
court to the layman's ininishment. This 1 be-
lieve to be the meaning of the clause." — F. AV.
Maitland, Jhun/ II. itml the Criiniinius Cluks
(Kiiijlixh Jlixtviiriil Rerictr. April, 1892), pp. 224-
22(5. — The Assi,"; of Claiendon, sometimes con-
fused with the Constitutions of Clarendon, was
an important decree approved two years later.
It laid down the ])rinciples on which the ad-
niinisf.-jition of justice was to be carried out,
in twenty-two articles drawn up for the use
of the judges. — Mrs. J. K. Gn en, Ihin-j) the
Second, ch. 5-0. — "It niiv not be without in-
struction to remember lliat the Constitutiona
of Clarendon, which Beekel spent his life in
800
ENGLAND, 1163-1170.
Richanl C(rur dc
Lion.
ENGLAND. 1205-1213.
opposing, and of which his ilenth procured the
suspension, are now incorponited in tlie English
law, and are reirarded, witliout a di.ssentient
voice, a.s anu)ni; the wisest ami most neces.sary
of English institutions; tliat the especial point
for whicii lie surrendered his life was not the in-
dependence of the clergy from the encroach-
ments of the Crown, but the jiersonal and now
forgotten question of the superiority of the see
of Canterbury to the see of York."— A. I'. Stan-
ley, instoriail .]fiiiiiiri<ds iif ('niitfrhiirii, p. 124.
Also in: \V. Stubbs, Conxt. Hint of Knrj., ch.
13, sect. 139-141.— The same. Select Chartr'n*, pt.
4.— J. C. Robertson, BicJcd.—S. A. (Jiles, Life
tiiid Letters of T/iomas a Jkcket. — I?. II. Troude,
Iliitt. of the. Contest betireen Archf)i.'<liop Thoitiiix <l
IheArt and Ilenri) IL. {Reiiiaiii.i, pt. 2, i\ 2). — J. A.
Fronde, fjfa and Tinux if Tliniiuix He hit. — ('.
II. Pearson, Ilixt. of h'nrj/inid i/urini/ llir Lltrhf
iiiid .Midi/le A;/i .1. r. 1, r/i. 21(. — Sec, also, IJicMCKn'
OK ('i.Kiic.Y, and JriiV. TniAi, uy.
A. D. 1 189. — Accession of King Richard I.
(called Cceur de Lion).
A. D. 1189-1199. — Reign of Richard Cceur
de Lion.— His Crusade and campaigns in
France.— -"The Tliird Crusade [see Cuisadks :
A. I). llS^-n!)2], undertaken for the deliver-
ance of Palestine from the disasters brought
upon the Crusaders' Kingdom by Saladin, was
tlie first to be pnpidar in England. . . . Kiehard
joined the Crusade in the very lirst year of his
reign, and every portion of his subsequent career
was' concerned with its coiiseciuences. Neither
in the time of AVilliam Kufus nor of Stephen
had the First or Second Crusa<les fotmd England
sulliciently settled for such expeditions. . . .
But the patronage of the Crusades was a heredi-
tary distinction in the Angevin family now reign-
ing in England: they had foimdcd the kingdom
of Palestine; Henry II. himself Iiad often pre-
pared to set out; and Richard was conlidently
expected by the great body of his subjects to re-
deem the family jjledge.' . . . \Vhoily inferior
in statesmanlike ([ualities to his father as he was,
the fjenerosity, munificence, and ea.sy conlidenn
of lu3 character made him an almost perfect rep-
resentative of the chivalry of that age. He was
scarcely at all in England, bu*- his line exploits
both by land and sea liave made him deservedly
a favourite. The depreciation of Idm which is to
be found in certain modern books must in all
fairness be considered a little mawkish. A King
who leaves behind him such an example of ap-
parently reckless, but really prudent valotir, of
patience under jealous ill-treatment, ami perse-
verance in the face of extreme ditliculties, shin-
ing out ns the head of the manhood of Ids day,
far above the common race of kings and emper-
ors,— such a man leaves a heritage of example
as well as glory, and incites posterity to noble
deeds. His great moral fault was his conduct to
Henry, and for this he was .sufiiciently punished;
but his parents must each bear their .share of the
blame. . . . The interest of Eniilish atTairs dur-
ing Richard's absence langidshes under the ex-
citement which attends his almost continuous
campaign.s. . . . Moth on the Crusade and in
France itichard was lightint; the bailie of the
Ilou.sc which the English had very deliberatelv
placed upon its throne; and if the war was kep't
ofl its shores, if the troubles of Stephen's nign
\ycre not allowed to recur, the cotnitry had ho
right to complain of a taxation or a rov'al ransom
which times of peace enabled it, after all, to bear
tolerably well. . . . The great maritime position
of the Plantagenets made these sovereigns take
to the sea." — .M. Ihirrows, CominenturiiK on, the
IIM. of LJiif/fiiitd, hk. \,ch. IH.— Richard "was a
b;id kiiig; his great exploits, his military skill, his
splendour and extravagance, his poetical tastes,
his adventurous si)irit, do not serve to I'loak his
entire want of sj-mpathy, or even consideration
for his people. He was no Englishmiui. . . .
His and)ition was that of a mere warrior." —
\V. Stubl)s, Count. Hint, if Eur/., wet. l-'jO (r. 1).
Also in: K. Norgatc, EnijUtnd under the An-
(jerin /\iiif/.<*, e. 2, '■//. 7— '^.
A. D. 1199. — Accession of King John.
A. D. 1205. — The loss of Normandy and its
effects. — In 12i)2 Philip .Vtigustus, king of
France, summoned .John of Etiirlaml, as Duke of
Normandy (tiiercfoie iIk; feudal vassal of the
French crown) toappear for trial on certain grave
charges before tlie auirust court of tin; Peers of
F'-ance. .John refused to obey the summons; his
French liefs were dccl.areil forl'eited, and the
armies of tiii' FriMicb kini;- took possession of them
(see Fhanci;: A. 1). 1180-1224). Thi.s proved
to be a lasting separation of Normandy from
England, — except as it wa.s recovered inonunt-
arily long afterwards in tlie coiKpusis of Hcmy
V. "The Norman barons had had no clioice
but between John and Philip. For the first
time since the CoiKiuest then' v.as no coniiu'titor,
son, brother, or more distant kinsman, for their
allegiance. .John ccnild neither rule nor defend
them. Bishops and barons alike welcomeil or
speedily accei)led their new lord. The families
that bad estates on both sides of the Channel
divided into two branches, each of which made
terms for itself; or having balanced their inter-
ests iu the two kingdoms, tlu'cw in llieir lot with
one or other, and renounced what they could not
save. Almost immediately Normandy settles
down into a quiet province of France. . . . For
England the result of the separation was more
important still. Even within the reign of John
it became clear that the release of the barons
from their connexion with tiic continent was all
that was wantetl to make them Englishmen.
With the la.st vestiges of the Norman inherit-
ances vanished the last idea of making England a
feudal kingdom. The Great Charter was won
by men wlio were maintaining, not the cau.se of
a class, as had been the case in every civil war
since 1070, but the cause of a nation. From the
year 1203 the king stood before the English
people face to face." — W. Stul)l)s, Constitutionnl
Jlint. of En'/., ch. 12, sect. 152.— Sec Fhance:
A. I). llH0-i224.
A. D. 1205-1213. — King John's quarrel with
the Pope and the Church. — On the death, in
riO.'), of Archbishop Hubert, of Canterbury, who
had long been chief minister of the crown, a
complicated quarrel over the appointment to the
Viicant see arose between the monks of the cathe-
dral, the suiTragan bishops of the province. King
John, and the powerful Pope Innocent III. Pope
Innocent put forward as his camlidate the after-
wards famous Stephen Langton, secured his
election in a .somewhat irregular way (A. D.
1207), and cinisecrated him with his own hands.
King John, bent on tilling the primacy with a
creature of his own, resisted the papal action
with more fury than discretion, and jiroceeded
to open war with the whole Church. "The
801
1:N(JLANI). 1205-1213.
A'lHf/ .lollll
and Moijnii Carta.
ENGLAND. 1215.
monkB of CantcrlHiry were driven from tlieir
monsistcry, ami when, in the fDliowint: year, an
iiiti'rdictwhicii ilic I'opc liad intnislcd to tin'
IJislioii.H of Loiidoi), Kly and Worcester, was
piil)lished, his liostility to tlie Church liecaiuf so
••xireme tliat almost "all the liisliojis tied; the
Hislio(>s of Winchester, Durham, and .Norwich,
two of whom heloiiLfed to the ministerial body,
iM'in;: the otdy prelates left in Knirland. The in-
terdict was of the .sev<Test form; all services
of the ("hurch, with the exception of baptism
and extreme unction, beini; forbidden, while the
Imrial of the dead was allowed oidy in unconse-
crated ^'ronnd; ilseirecl was however weakened
by the conduct of ,sonu' of the monastic orders,
who ciiiimed exemption from its operation, and
continued their services. The kin^^'s anjrer knew
no l)ounds. The deriry were jtut beyond the
protection of the law; orders were issued to drive
them from their benelices, and l.iwless acts com-
mitte(l at their expense met with no punishment.
. . . Though actingthus violently, John slKjwed
the weakness of his character by (continued com-
nuinicalion with the I'ope, and occasional fitful
nets of favour to the Church; .so nuich so, that,
in the following vear, Langton jirepared to come
over to Knglaiiil, and. ujion the continued ob-
stinacy of tile king, Iimocent, feeling sure of his
final victory, did not shrink from issuing his
threatened exconuniinieation. John had ho]ied
to be able to exclude the knowledge of this step
from the island . . . ; but the rumour of it soon
got abroad, and its ellect was great. ... In a
state (if nervous excitement, and mistrusting his
nobles, the king himself iierpetually moved to
and fro in his kingdom, .seldom staying tnore than
n few (lays in one ])lace. None the less did he
continue his old line of policy. ... In TJll a
league of excomnuiiiicated leaders was formed,
including all the iirinces of the North of Europe;
Ferrand of Flanders, the Duke of Brabant, John,
and Otho [John's CJiielphic iSaxon nephew, who
Wiis one of two contestants for the imperial
crown in GermanyJ, were all members of it,
and it was chietly organized by the activity of
IJeii'uld of Damniartin, Coiuit of Houlogne. The
chief enemy of the.se confederates was Philip of
France; and John thought he saw in this league
the means of revenge against his old enemy. To
complete the line of demarcation between the two
liarties. Innocent, who was greatly moved by the
descripii<in of the disorders and persecutions in
England, declared John's crown forfeited, and
intrusted the carrying out of the sentence to
Pliilip. In 1213 armies were collected on both
sides. Philip was already on the Chamiel, and
John had assembUd a large army on Harham-
down, not far from Canterbury.'' But, at the
last moment, when ihe French" king was on the
eve of embarking his forces for the invasion of
England, John submitted himself abjectly to
Paiidulf, the legate of the Pope. He not "only
surrendered to all that he had contended against,
but Went further, to the most shameful ex'trenu'.
"On the l.lth of May, at Dover, he formallv re-
signeii the crowns of England and Ireliuid into the
hands of Pandulf, and received them again as
the Pope's feudatory."— J. F. Bright, Jlist. of
En;/. (3(/ <•(/.), r. 1, pp. 130-134.
Ai.soiN: C. II. Pearson, JJiitt. of Enr/. during
the Ktirlfi and Muhllii Af/i*, r. 2, '<•//. 2.— E. F.
Hendersoti, Shet ]Ii»t. ih,csof the Middle Ages,
bk. 4, no. 5.— See, also, BouviNKs, Battle of.
A. D. 1206-1230. — Attempts of John and
Henry III. to recover Anjou and Maine. See
As.ioi-; A. 1). rJ(l»i-1442.
A. D. 1215.— Magna Carta. — "It is to the
victory of Bouvines that England owes her Great
Charter |s(c Botvi.sKs]. . . . John sailed for
Poitou with the dream of a great victorj' which
.should lay Philip [of France] and the banms
alike at his feel. He returned from liis defeat to
lind the nobles no longer banded together in
secret conspiracies, but openly united in a defin-
ite claim of liberty and law. The author of this
great chang(! was the new Archliishop [Lang-
ton] whom Innocent had set on the; throne of
Canterbury. ... In a private; nu'cting of the
barons at St. Patd's, lu; produced the Charier of
Henry I., and the enthusiasm with which it was
welcomed showed th<; sagacity with which the
Primate liad chosen his ground for the coming
struggle. Ali hope, however, hung on the for-
linies of the French campaign ; it was the victory
at Bouvines that broke the sjiell of terror, and
within a few days of the king's landing the bar-
ons again met at St. Edmund.sburv. ... At
Christmas they j)resentcd themselves \i\ arms be-
fore the king and preferred their claim. TIk; few
months that followed showed John that lie stood
alone in the land. ... At Easter the barons
again gathered in arms at Bracklej' and renewed
their claim. ' Why do they not ask for my
kingdomV cried John in a, burst of passion; but
the whole country rose; as one man at his refusal.
London threw open her gates to the army of the
barons, now organized under Robert Fitz-Walter,
'the marshal of the army of God and the holy
Church.' The example of the capital was at
once followed l)j' Exeter and Lincoln; promises
of aid came from Scotland and Wales; the north-
ern nobles marched hastily to join tlieir comrades
in London. With seven horsemen in his train
John found himself face to face with a nation in
arms. . . . Nursing wrath in his heart the tyrant
.l}()wed to nece.s.sity, and sununoned the barons to
a conference at Kunnymede. An island in the
Thames between Staines and Windsor had been
chosen as the i)lace of conference: the king en-
camjied on one bnidi, while the barons covered the
marshy flat, still known l)y the name of Runny-
mede, on the other. Their delegates met in
the island between them. . . . The Great Charter
was (ILscussed, agreed to, and signed in a single
day [July 15, A.^D. 1215]. One copy of it still
remains in the Britisli Museum, injured by age
and lire, but with the royal seal still hanging
from the brown, shrivelc"d parchment." — J. li.
Green, Short Hint. <if the Enylinh Peojie, ch. 3,
sect. 2-3. — 'As tiiis was the tir.st effort towards a
legal government, so is it beyond comparison the
most imjwrt snt event in our history, except that
Revolution without which its benefits would liave
been rapidly amiihilated. The constitution of
England has indeed no single date from vvhicli
its duration is to be reckoned. The institutions
of positive law, the far more important changes
which time has wrought in the order of society,
during six hundred years subsequent to the
Great Charter, have undoubtedly lessened its
diriH't application to our present circumstances.
But it is still the key-stone of English liberty.
All that has since been obtained is little more
than as confirmation or commentary. . . The es-
sential clauses of ^lagna Charta are those which
protect the personal liberty and property of all
802
ENGLAND, 1215.
Magna Carta.
P:N«LANI), 1-215.
frceiin'ii, by ^'iviiij .spciiritj* from arbitrary iiii-
l)risonincnt and tirtiitrury spoliatiou. 'No free-
man (says tlie 2l)th fhapter of Henry lll.'s
clmrter, wliich, as the exist in;; law. I quote in
preference to that of Joim, the variations not be-
intr very material) sliall be tai\en or imprisoned,
or l)e disseised of iiis freehold, or liberties, or free
vustoms, or be outlawed, or exiled, or any other-
wise destroj'ed; nor will we \y.\ss ujion him, nor
send ui)on, but by lawful judgment of his peers,
or by the law of the land. We will sell to no
man, we will not deny or delay to any man, jus-
tice or riitht.' It is obvious that these words,
interpreted by any honest court of law, convey
an ample seeuritv for the two main rights of civil
society."— II. Ilallan), T/ie MUhU,' Af/<K, eh. 8, pt.
2. — "The (Jreat Charter, although drawn up in
the form of a royal grant, was really a treaty be-
twe'Ui the king and his subjects. ... It is the
collective people who really form the other high
contracting party in the great capitulation, — the
three estates of tlie realm, not, it is true, arranged
la order according to their jirofession or rank,
but not the less certainly combined In one national
purpose, and securing by one bond the interests
and rights of each other, severally and all to-
gether. . . . The barons maintain and secure
the right of the whole peoph; as against them-
selves as well as against their master. Clause by
clause the rights of the commons aw, provided
for as well as the rights of the nobl'-s. . . . The
knight is protected against the compulsory exac-
tion of his services, and the horse and cart of the
freeman against the irregidar reriuisilion even of
the sheriff. . . . The Great Charter is the first
great public act of the nation, after it lias realised
Its own identity. . , . The whole of the consti-
tutional history of England is little more than a
commentary on Magna Carta." — W. Stubbs,
CoiiHtitationtd Hint, of En;/., ch. 12, mict. 155. — The
following is the text of Magna Carta: "John,
by the Grace of God, King of England, Lord of
Ireland, Duke of Normandy, Aquitaitie, and
Count of Anjou, to his Archbishops, Bishops,
Abbots, Earls, Barons, Justiciaries, Foresters,
Sheriffs, Governors, Officers, and to all Bailiffs,
and his faithful subjects, greeting. Know ye,
that we, in the presence of God, and for the sal-
vation of our .soul, and the souls of all our an-
cestors and heire, and unto the honour of God
and the advancement of Holy Church, and
amendment of our Realm, by advice of our ven-
erable Fathers, Stei)hen, Archbishop of Canter-
bury, Primate of all England and Cardinal of
the Holy Roman Church ; Henry, Archbisho]) of
Dublin; William, of London; Peter, of Winches-
ter; Jocclin, of Bath and Glastonbury; Hugh, of
Lincoln; Walter, of Worcester; William, of Cov-'
entry ; Benedict, of Rochester — Bishops : of blas-
ter Pandulplj, Sub-Deacon and Familiar of our
Lord the Pope ; Brother Aymeric, Master of the
Knights-Templars in England; and of the noble
Persons, William 3Iarescall, Earl of Pembroke;
William, Earl of Salisbury; William, Earl of
Warren; William, Earl of Arundel; Alan de
Galloway, Constable of Scotland; Warin Fitz-
Gerald, Peter FitzIIerbert, and Hubert de Burgh,
Seneschal of Poiton ; Hugh de Neville, Matthew
FitzIIerbert, Thomas Basset, Alan Basset, Philip
of Albiney, Robert de Roppell. John Mareschal,
John Fitzllugh, and others, our liegemen, have,
in the first place, granted to God, and by this our
present Clinrter contirmed, for us and our heirs
forever: — I. That the C'hurch of England shall
be free, and have her whole rights, and her liber-
ties inviolable; and we will have them so ob-
served, that it may appear thence that the free-
dom of elections, which is reckoned chief and
indisiH'iisable to the ICni^lisli Church, and which
we granted and conlirmed by our Charter, and
obtained the confirmation of the same; from our
Lord the Pope Innocent HI., before the disconl
between us and our barons, was granteil of mere
free will; which Charter we shall observe, and
we do will it to be faithfully observed by our
heirs for ever. 2. We also have granted to all
the fre(!nien of our kingdom, for us and for our
heirs for ever, all the underwritten lil)erties, to
be had and liolden by them and their heirs, of ua
and our heirs for ever: If any of our earls, or
barons, or others, who hold of us in chief by
military service, shall die, and at the time of his
death his heir shall be of full age, and owe a re-
lief, he shall have his inheritance by the ancient
relief — that is to say, the heir or heirs of an earl,
for a whole earldom, by a hundred pounds; the
heir or heirs of a baron, for a whole barony, by
a hundred pounds; the heir or heirs of a knight,
for a whole knight's fee, by a hundred shillings
at most ; and whoever oweth less shall give less,
according to the ancient custom of fees. 3. But
if the heir of any such shall be under age, and
shall be in ward, when he comes of age he shall
have his inheritance without relief and without
fine. 4. The keeper of the land of such an heir
being under age, shall take of tli(! land of the
heir none but reasonable issues, reasonable cus-
toms, and rea.sonable services, and that without
destruction and waste of his men and his goods;
and if we commit the custody of any such lands
to the sheriff, or any other who is answerable to
us for the issues of the land, and he shall make
destruction and waste of the lands which he hath
in cust(Kly, we will take of him amends, and the
land shall be committed to two lawful and dis-
creet men of that fee, who shall answer for the
issues to us, or to him to whom we shall assign
them; and if we sell or give to any one the cus-
tody of any such lands, and he therein make de-
struction or waste, he shall lose the same custody,
which shall be committed to two lawful and dis-
creet men of that fee, who shall in Mke manner
answer to us as aforesaid. 5. But the keeper, so
long as he shall have the custody of the land,
shall keep up the houses, parks, warrens, ponds,
mills, and other things pertaining to the land, out
of the i.ssues of the same land; and shall deliver
to the heir, when he comes v' full age, his whole
land, stocked with ploughs and carriages, accord-
ing as the time of wainage shall require, and the
i.ssues of the land can reasonably bear. 6. Heirs
shall be married without disparagement, and so
that before matrimony shall be contracted, those
who are near in blood to the heir shall have notice.
7. A widow, after the death of her husband,
shall forthwith and without dilliculty have her
marriage and inheritance; nor shall she give any-
thing lor her dower, or her marriage, or her in-
heritance, which her husband and she held at the
day of his death; and slie may remain in the
mansion house of her husband forty days after
his death, within which time her dower shall be
assigned. 8. No widow shall be distrained to
marry herself, so long as she has a mind to live
without a husband; but yet she shall give se-
curity that she will not marry without our assent,
803
EN(JI>AND. 1215.
Moffna Carta,
ENGLAND, 1215.
If sho hold of us; or without the ri.r<«rnt of the
lord of whom she liolds, if she hold ol .•uolhcr.
9. Ncithrr we nor our l)iiililTs sliiill wi/.c any land
(ir rent for iiuv dchl so loni; us tin- chutttls (jf the
dclilor lire suilicicnt to pay the dclit ; nor siiall
tiic sureties of tlie delii>r lie disliained so Ion/,'
fts tJK' i>riMeipal dclitcir has sullieieiit to Jiay the
delil ; and if Hie priuciiial delitor siiall fail in the
puvnieiit of thedelit. not havinir wherew itlial to
jiay it. tiien tlie sureties sh.ill answer the delit ;
and if tiiev will they shall have the lands and
rents of the delitor, iuitil lluy shall lie salisllcd
for the deliv, which they paid ior hini, uidess the
prineipal tlelilor can show himself acquitted
thereof ajrainsi the said suH'ties. 10. If anyone
iiave horrowed !inytiiin.i,' of th(! Jews, more or
less, and die liefore the dclit he s:ilislied, then;
shall tv- no interest paid for that delit. so loni; as
t!ic heir is under ai;e, of whomsoever he may
hold ; and if the dchi falls into our hands, we will
only tak(; the chattel mentioned in the deed. H.
.Vnil if any one shall die indclitt d to the Jews, his
wife shall have her dower and iiay nothini; of
that delit; and if the deceased left children under
aue, they shall hav(> necessaries provided for
I iiem. according to the tenement of the deceased;
and out of the residue the debt shall lii- paid,
savin;:, however, tin- service due !â– ( the lords, and
in like mainur shall it he done to\icliin;; deliis
dm; to olht rs than the .lews. 12. No seutaire or
aid shall lie imposed in our kin.iidoin, unless liy
thi' general conmil of oiirkini^dom; except for
ransoniini; our ]ierson, niakim: our eldest son a
knight, auil once for marrying our eldesi daugh-
ter; and for these (here shall lie ]>aid no more
than a reasonalile aid. In like manner it shall lie
concerning the aids of the City of L<indon. 13.
And the t-'ity of London shall have all it.s ancient
lihertie.s and free customs, as well by land as hv
water: furthermore, we will and grant that ail
other cities and boroughs, and t<iwns and ports,
shall have all their liberties and free customs. 14.
Ami for holding the general council of the king-
dom concerning the asses. ment of aids, except in
th(! three cases aforesaid, and for the assessing of
srwtages, we shall cau.si; t<i be sununoned the
archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, and greater
bariin.s of the realm, singly by our letters. And
furth.ermore, we shall cause to be summoned
generally, by our sherills and baililYs. all others
who hold of us in chief, for a certain (lay, that is
to say, forty days before their meeting "at least,
and to a certain place; and in all letters of such
stinnuonswe wili declare the cause of such sum-
mons. And s\immons being thus made, the busi-
ness shall proceed on the day appointed, accord-
ing to the advice of such as shall be present,
aUhough all that were sununoned come not. 15.
V J will not for thi> future grant to any one that
he may take aid of his own free tenants, unless
to ransom his body, and to make his ehlest son a
knight, and (mte to marry his eldest daughter;
and for this there shall be'oidy paid a reasonable
aid. 16. No man shall be dis'trained to perform
more service for a knight's fee, or other free tene-
ment, than is due from thence. 17. ("ommon
pleas shall not follow our court, but shall be
liolden in some place certain. 18. Trials upon
the Writs of Nov(l Disseisin, and of Mort d'an-
cestor. and of Darrein Presentment, shall not be
taken b\it in their imiper counties, and after this
manner : We, or if we sliould be out of the realm,
our chief justiciary, will send two justiciaries
through ovoTv' county fotir times a }'cnr, who,
with lour kidghts of each county, chosen by tho
county, shall bold the said assizes in the coiuity
on the diiy. and at the place appointed. 19.
Anil if any matters cannot lie determined on tho
day appointed for holding the assizes in each
county, so many of tlu! knights and freeholders
as hav(! been at the assizes aforesaid shall stay to
decide them as is necessary, according as there ift
more or Icaa business, ao. A freeman .shall not
be amerced for a small olTence, but oidy accord-
ing to the degree of the oirence; and for a great
crime according to the heinousness of it, saving
to him his contem'ment : and after the saiiK! man-
ner a merchant, s.iving to him his merchandise.
And a villein shall be amerced after the same
manner, saving to him his wainaire, if he falla
under our mercy; and nomi of the aforesaid
amerciaments shall be assessed but by the oath of
honest men in the neighbourhood. 21. i^arlsand
barons shall not be amerced but by their ])eers,
and after the degree of the olTencc. 22. No
ecclesiastical ]>erson shall bo amerced for his lay
tenement, but according to the ]iroportion of the
others aforesaid, and not according to the value
of his ecclesiastical benelice. 23. Neither a town
nor any tenant shall be distrained to make bridges
or cmlianknunts, unless that anciently and of
right they are bound to do it. 24. No sherilT,
constatile, coroner, or other our baililTs, shall hold
'• I'leas of the Crown." 25. All counties, hun-
dreds, wajientakes, and tretliings, shall stand at
the old rents, without any increa.se, except in (nir
demisne manors. 26, If any one holding of us
a lay fee die, and the sherill", or our bailills, show
our letters i)ateutof summons for debt which the
dead man did owe to us, it shall be lawful for the
sherilT or our baililf to attach and register the
chattels of the dead, found upon his lay fee, to
the amount of the debt, by the view of lawful
men, so as nothing be removed tmtil our whole
clear debt b(! paid; and the rest shall be left to
the executors to fulfil the testament of the dead;
and if there be nothing dua from him to us, all
the chattels shall go to the use of tho dead, sav-
ing to his wife and children their reasonable
shares. 27. If any freeman shall die intestate,
his chattels shall bo distrib\ited by the hands of
his nearest relations and friends, by view of the
Church, saving to every one his debts which the
decea,sed owed to him. 28. No constable or
baililT of ours shall take corn or other chattels of
any man unless he presently give him money for
it. or hath respite of paj'ment by the good-will
of the seller. 29. No constable shall distrain any
knight to give money for castle-guard, if he him-
self will do it in his person, or by another able
man, in case he cannot do it through any reason-
able cause;. And if we have carried or sent him
into the army, he shall be free from such guard
for the time lie shall be in the army by our com-
mand. 30. No sheriff or bailiff of ours, or any
other, shall take horses or carts of any freeman
for carriage, without the assent of the said free-
man. 31. Neither shall we nor our bailiffs take
any man's timber for our castles or other uses,
unless by the ccmsent of the owner of tho timber.
32. We will retain the lands of those convicted
of felony only one year and a dav, and then they
shall be "delivered t«") the lord of the fee. 33. All
kydells (wears) for the time to come shall be put
down in the rivers of Thames and ^ledway, and
throughout all England, except upon the sea-
804
ENGLAND. 12ir,.
Jfagnn Carta.
ENGLAND, 121.-..
1 oast. 34. Tlic writ wliich is railed yiraripc, for
I he fiiturc, shall nut ho made out to any one, of
any tt'neincnt, wluTchy a frt'cinan may losi- his
court. 35. Thcrt' shall Im* one nicasiirc of wine
and one of ale throuj,di our whole realm; and
one measure of corn, tliat is to say, the London
(piarter; and one breadth of dyed cloth, and rus-
sets, and haherjcets, that is to .say, two ells within
the lists; and it hIimII l)e of wei<;hts as it is of
measures. 36. Nothinjj from henceforth .shall lie
fliven or taken for a writ of inquisition of life or
limb, but it shall be granted freely, and not de-
nied. 37. If any do hold of us by fee-farni, or
by socaf^e, or by biirfraire, and Ik; hold also lands
of any other by knijj;iit's service, we will mX
have flic custody of the heir or land, which is
holden of another man's fet; by reason of tliat,
fee-farm, socatfe, or buriraire; neiliier will we
have the custody of the fee-farm, or soca,t,'i', or
burgaj^e, unless knitrht's service was due to us
out of the same fee-farm. Wo will not have the
custody of an heir, nor of any land which he
holds of another by kniplifs service, by reason
of any iietty serjcanty by which lie holds of us,
by the service of paying a knife, an arrow, ortlie
like. 38. No l)ailili' from liencefortli sliall put
any man to his law ui)on his own bare sayinj^,
without credibk' witnesses to jiroveit. 39. No
freeman sliall be taken or impiisoned, or disseised,
or outhiwed, or banisl'.e(l, or any w.-iys destroyed,
nor will we jiass upon him. nor will we send
upon him, unless i)y the lawful judi^iiient of his
peers, or Iiy the law of the land. 40. We will
sell to no man, we will not deny to any man,
cither justice! or rij^'it. 41, .\11 merchants shall
have safe and secure conduct, to f^o out of, and
to come into England, and to stay there and to
pa.ss as well by land as by water, for buj'ini:? and
selling by the ancient and allowed customs, with-
out any unjust tolls; except in tiini; of war, or
when they are of any nation at war with us.
And if there be fo\md any such in our land, in
the beginning of the war, they shall lie attached,
without damage to their bodies or goods, until it
be known unto us, or our chief justiciary, how
our merchants be treated in the nation at war
with us; and if ours be safe there, the others
shall be safe in our domiiuons. 42, It shall be
lawful, for the time to come, for any one to go
out of our kingdom, and return Siifely and se-
curely by land or by water, saving his allegiance
to us; unless in time of war, by some short space,
for the common benefit of the realm, except
prisoners and outlaws, according to the law of
the land, and people in war with us, and mer-
chants who shall be treated as is above mentioned.
43. If any man hold of any escheat, as of the
honour of Wallinsford, Nottingham, Boulogne,
Lancaster, or of other escheats w liicli be in our
hands, and are baronies, and die, his heir shall
give no other relief, and perform no other service
to us than he would to the baron, if it were in
the baron's hand; and we will hold it after the
same manner as the baron held it. 44. Those
men who dwell witho\it the forest from hence-
forth shall not come before our justiciaries of
the forest, upcju common sunnnons, but such as
are impleadeil, or are sureties for any that arc at-
tached for something concerning the forest. 45.
We will not make any justices, constables, sher-
ilTs, or baililTs. but of such as know the law of-
the realm and mean duly to observe it. 46. All
barons who have founded abbey's, which they
hold by charter from the kiuL'sof England, or by
ancient tenure, shall have the keeping of them,
when vacant, as they ought to have. 47, All
forests that have been made forests in oiir time
shall forthwith be disforested: and the same shall
be done with the water-banks that have been
fenced in by ns in f)nr time. 48. All evil <'us-
tonis concerning forests, warrens, foresters, and
warreners, sherilTs ami their ollicers, water-i)aidi.s
and their keein-rs, shall Htrthwilh be iiuniircd
into in each county, by twelve sworn knights of
the same county, chosen by creditalde persons of
the same county; and within forty days after the
.said incinest Ik; utterly abolished, so as never to be
restored: so as we are lirst ac(iiiainted therewith,
or our justiciary, if we should not be in Kiigland.
49. We will immediately give up all hostages
and charters (hdivered unto us by our Krigli>h
subjects, as securities for their keeping the peace,
and yielding us faithful service. 50. \V(! will
entirely remove from their liailiwiek-t the rda-
ti'iMsof (Jerard de Atheyes, so that for the future
tie y sh:dl have no bailiwick in luigland; we will
also remov(( Hngelanlde Cygony, .Vndrew, Peter,
and (Jyoii, from the Chancery ; Oyon de (,'yiii.iiy,
(fColTrey de .Martyn, and Ids brothers; riiili|)
Mark, and his brothers, and his nephew, (Jeolfrey,
and their whole retiniK," 5T- .Vs soon as pe;iee is
restored, we will setid out of the kingd<i;u all
foreign knights, cro.ss-bowmcu. and stipeiuMaiics,
w!io arc; come with horses and arms to the mol-
estation of our peo])le. 52. If any one has been
dispossessed or deprivc<l by us, without the law-
ful judgment of his peers, of his lands, castles,
liberties, or right, we will fortiiwith restore them
to him; and if any dispute aris(! upon this head,
let the matter lie decided by the five-and twenty
barons hereafter mentioned, for the i>reservation
of the peace. And for all tho.se things of which
aiij"^ ])er.son has, without the lawful judgment of
his peers, been disposses.sed or (k'prived, eit!ier by
our father King Henry, or our brother King
Hichard. and which we have in our hands, or are
])osse.sse(l by others, and we are bound to warrant
anil make good, we shall have a respite till the
term usually allowed the crusaders; excepting
those things about which there is 11 plea depenvl-
ing, or whereof an incpicst hath been made, by our
order before we undertook the crusade ; butas .soon
as we return from our expedition, or if perehanco
w'c tarry at home and do not make our expedi-
tion, we will immediately cause full justice to be
ndnunistered therein. 53. The same respite we
shall have, and in the same manner, about ad-
ministering justice, disairorcsting or letting con-
tinue the forests, which Henry our father, and
our brother Richard, have aiforested; and the
same concerning the wardship of the lands which
are in another's fee, but the wardship of which
we have hitherto had, by reason of a fee held of
us by knight's service ; and for the abbeys founded
in any other fee than our owti, in which the lord
of the fee says he has a right; and when we re-
turn from our expedition, or if we tarry at home,
and do not make our expedition, we will immedi-
ately do full justice to all the complainants in
this behalf. 54. No man shall b(( taken or im-
prisoned upon the ai)peal of a woman, for the
death of any other than her husliand. 55. All
unjust and illegal lines made by us. and allamer-
ciiiments impose<l mijustly and contrary to the
law of the land, shall be entirely given up. or
else be left to the decision of the five-and-twenty
80."
KNGLANI), 1215.
Jiaffna Carta.
ENGLAND, 1215.
liiiniiiH iKTciiflcT iiicntidiii'd fur flio prosorvatinn
of tlic pcHCf. nr of the Diajiir i>nrt of llicm. ti>-
p'tliir with the afoicMiid St<'|ilirii, Arclihi.sliop
of ('anttrtiiirv, if lu' can lie prcsciil. and others
whom he hhail liiiidi tit t<> inviii'; and if he cati-
iiot 1m" present, the liusiness.sjiali Hot wiiiistaiidinu'
^'(» on witlioiit liim; tint so lliat if one or more
of the aforesidd tlve and twenty i)arons Iw plain
tills in the same cause, they shall lie set aside
lis to what (oneerns this pi'irtienlar alTair, atid
<ithers lie chosen in their room, out of the said
tiveandt'.venty, and sworn liy the rest to decide
the matter. 56. If we have disseised or dis-
posses.sed the Welsh of any lands, liheilies, or
other thinirs, wiihoiit the leiral judgment of their
peers, either in Kii;rland or in Wales, they shall
he immediately restored to them; and if any dis-
pute jirl-e upon this head, the matter shall be
determined in the Marches by the judirment of
their peers; for tenements in Knuliind accordini;
to the law of Kngliind, for tenements in Wales
aceordinir to the law of Wales, for tenements of
till- .Marches aecordinuMo the law of the Marches:
the siime shall the Welsh do to us and our sub-
jects. 57. As for .all those thini:s of which a
Welshman hath, without the lawful j\idtrment of
his ]ieers, been disseised or deprived of by Kim:;
Jleiiry our father, or our brother Kini; Itichiird,
and which we either have in our bands or others
are jiossessed of, and we are obliged to warrant
it, we shall have ti n'spite till the time gener.ally
allowed the crusaders; excepting those things
about which a suit is depeiuling, or whereof an
inquest has been made by our order, before we
undertook the cru.sade: but when we return, or
if we stay at home without performing our cx-
l)edilion, we will immediately do them full jus-
tice, according to tlie laws of the Welsh and of
the jiarts before mentioned. 58. We will with-
out delay dismiss the son of Llewellin, and all
the Welsh hostages, and relciise them from the
engagements they have entered into with lis for
the jireservation of the peace. 59. We will treat
with Alexander, King of .Scots, concerning tin;
restoring his sisters and hostages, and his right
and liberties, in the same form and manner as we
shall do to the rest of our baronsof England ; un-
less by the charters which we have from bis
father, William, late King of Scot.s, it ought to
be otherwise; and this shall be left to the deter-
mination of his peers in our court. 60. All the
aforesaid i-tistoms and liberties, which we have
granti-d to be liolden in our kingdom, as much as
it belongs to us, all jieople of our kingdom, as
well clergy as laity, shall observe, as far as iiuy
are concerned, towards their dependents. 61.
Aud whereas, for the honour of (tod and the
amendment of our kingdom, and for the better
(piieting the discord thai has arisen between us
and our barons, we have granted all the.se things
aforesaid; willing to render them tirm and last-
ing, we do give anil grant our subjects the
underwritten security, namely that the barons
may choose live-aml-fwenty barons of the king-
<lom, whom Hiey think convenient; who shall
take call', with all their might, to hold and ob-
serve, and cause to he observed, tne peace aud
liberties we have gnmted them, and bv this our
present Charter cttntirmed in this manner; that.is
to sjiy, that if we, our justiciary, our bailiffs, or
any of our i)tlicers, shall in any circum.stance
have failed in the jierformanee ni them towards
any person, or shall have broken through any of
these articles of jieace and security, and the
olTcnci' be iiotilied to four barons chosen out of
the five iind twenty before mentioned, the said
four barons shall repair to us, or our justiciary,
if we are out of the realm, and, laying open tfic
grievance, shall jutitiim to have it redressed
without delay : and if it be not redressed by us,
or if we should chance to be out of the realm, if
it should not be redressed by our ju.stieiary within
forty days, reckoning from the tiiue it has been
notilicd to us, or to our justiciary (if we should
be out of the realm), the four barons aforesaid
shall lay the cause before the rest of tlu; live-and-
twcnty iiarons; and the said live-and-twenty bar-
ons, together with the comiiuinity of the whole
kingdom, shall distrain and distress us in all the
ways in which they shall la; able, by seizing our
castles, lanils, possessions, and in any other man-
ner they can, till the grievance is redressed, ac-
cording to tlieir pleasure; saving Immiless our
own jierson, and the ]ier.sons of our Queen and
children; and when it is redressed, they shall be-
have to us as before. And an.y i)ersoii whatsoever
in the kingdom may swear that he will obey the
orders of the live-and-twenty barons aforesaid in
the execution of the jircmises, and will distress
us, jointly with them, to the utmost of his power;
and we give juiblic and free liberty to any one
that shall i)lease to swear to this, and never will
hinder any person from taking the same oath.
62. As for all those of our subjects who will not,
of their own accord, swear to join the five-anil-
twenty barons in distraiinng and distressing us,
we will i.ssue orders to make them take the same
o.'.Vh as aforesaid. And if luiy one of the flve-
and-twenty barons dies, or goes out of the king-
<lom, oris hindered any other way from carrying
the things aforesaid into execu{ion, the rest of
the said five-and-twent.v barons may choose an
other in his roimi, at their discretion, who shall be
sworn in like maiuier as the rest. In all things
that are committed to the execution of these tiye-
and-twenty barons, if, when the}' are all assem-
liled together, they should happen to disagree
about any matter, and some of them, when sum-
moned, will iKjt or caimot come, whateyer is
agreed upon, or enjoineil, by the major part of
tiio.se that are jiresent shall' be reputed as firm
and valid as if all the flye-ami-twenty had given
their consent; and the aforesjiid flyc-and-twenty
shall swear that all the premises they shall faith-
fully observe, and cause with all their power to
be observed. And we will procure nothing from
any one, by ourselves nor by another, whereby
any of these concessions and liberties may be re-
voked or lessened; and if any such thing shall
have been o))tained, let it be null and void;
neither will we ever inaki; use of it either by
ourselves or any other. And all the ill-will, in-
dignations, and rancours that have arisen be-
tween us and our subjects, of the* clergy and
laity, from the first breaking out of the dissen-
sions between us, we do fully remit and forgive:
moreover, all trespasses occasioned bj' the said
dissensions, from Easter in the sixteenth year of
our reign till the restoration of peace and tran-
(piillity, we hereby entirely remit to all, both
clergy and laity, and as far as in us lies do fully
forgive We have, moreover, caused to be made
for them the letters patent testimonial of Stephen,
Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, Henry, Lord
Archbishop of Dublin, and the bishops aforesaid,
as also of Master Pandulph, for the security and
806
ENGLAND, 1215.
The Unrons' M'iti\
ENGLAND, 1210-1274.
«'()iK'cssii)ii.s nfun'.said. 63. Whcrcforr we will
anil (irmly enjoin, that tiic Cliurch of Knjrland
l)c free, and that all nun in our kin^'doni have
and hold all the aforesaid liberties, riirhts, and
(•onccssions, truly aii<l peaeeaMy, freely and
<iuietly, fully ami wholly to themselves juid »l.eir
heirs, of us and our heirs, in all thin;jsand pla(;es,
for ever, as is aforesaid. It is also sworn, as
well on our i>art us on the part of the barons,
that all the tliin>;s aforesaid sli.ill be observed in
irood lailh, and without evil subtilty. Given
under our hnnd, in th(^ jiresenec! of tin; witnessi'S
above nameil, and many others, in tlui meadow
ealled Hunin^^mede, between WinilsorandSt.nines,
the loth day of June, in the 17th year of our
reiLMi."— \V." Stubbs, M,rt ChurtvrH, pt. Tt.—()ld
Siitth Litijlttx, (Iriunil SfricH, no. .'».
Also in; E. F. Henderson, Sleet Jfi'xt. Di>e'n
of the Middle Affin, bk. 1, no. 7.— C. H. Pearson,
ilist. (if En>). duriiiq the Early (Utd Middle AgcH,
r. 2. r/,. ;{.
A. D. 1216-1274. — Character and reign of
Henry HL — The Barons' War. — Simon de
Montfort and the evolution of the English Par-
liament. — King John died October 17,121(5. 'His
Iciritimute successor was a child of nine years
of age. For the first time since the Conquest the
])ersoniil government was in the hands of a minor.
In that stormy time the great Earl of l'embrok(!
undertook the goveriunent, as Protector. . . . At
the Council of Bristol, with general approbation
and even with that of the papal legate, Magna
Cliarta was eonlirmed, though with the omission
of certain articles. . . . After some degree of
trancpiillity had been restored, a second confirma-
tion of the Great Charter took placi; in the autumn
of 1217, with the omission of the clauses referring
to the estates, but with the grunt of a newchartu
de forestu, introducing u vigorous administration
of the forest laws. In 9 Henry III. Magna Cliarta
was again confirmed, and this is the form in
which it afterwards took its place among the stat-
utes of the realm. Two years later, Henry III.
personally asi?iimes the reins of government ut
the Purliument of Oxford (1227), und begins his
rule without conlirming the two churters. At first
the tutorial government still continues, which hud
meanwhile, even after the death of the great Eurl
of Pembroke (1219), remained in a fuirly orderly
condition. The first epoch of si.xteen years of
this reign must tlierefore be regarded purely as
a government by the nobility under the name of
Henry HI. The regency had succeeded in remov-
ing the dominant influence of the Roman Curia
by the recall of the i)apal legate, Pandulf, to Home
(1221), and in getting rid of the dangerous foreign
mercenary soldiery (1224). . . . AVith the dis-
graceful dismissal of the chief justiciary, Hubert
do Burgh, there begins a second epoch of a per-
sonHl rule of Henry III. (1232-1252), which for
twenty continuous j'cars, presents the picture of
a confused and undecided struggle between the
king and his foreign favourites and personal ad-
herents on the one side, and the great barons, and
with them soon the prelates, on the other. . . .
In 21 Henry III. the King finds him.self, in con-
seipience of pressing money embarrassments,
again compelled to make a solemn confirmation
of the charter, in which once more the clauses re-
lating to the estates are omitted. Shortly after-
wards, as liad happened just one hundred years
previously in France, the name ' parliamenttmi '
occurs for the first time (Chron. Duust., 1244;
Miittb. Paris, 124(i), anil euritiusly enough, Henry
111. himself, in a writ uddrtss<'d tothe Sheriff of
Northumpt<ni, designates with this term the as-
sembly which oriiiinated the Magmi Cliarta. . . .
The name ' ji.irliainent,' now oc<'urs more fre-
(juently, but does not supplant the more definite
terms concilium, colliKiuiuni, etc. In the mean-
while the relations witli the Continent became
complicated, in coiis<'((iience of the family con-
nections of the mother und wife of the King, und
the greed of the papal envoys. . . . From the
year 1214 fniwurds, neither a chief justice nor a
chancellor, nor even u treusurer, is appointeil. but
the ailminislrution of the country is conducted at
the Court by the clerksof the otliees." — 1{. Giieist,
Hi.Ht. if the Eni/lixh Conxt.. 1: 1, }ip. :}i;)-;J21.—
" Nothing is so liard to realise us chaos; and notli-
ing nearer to chaos can be eonceiveil than the go v-
irnment of Heiiiy HI. Henry was, lik<' all Ww.
Plantagenets, clever; like very few of them, he
was devout ; and if the jiower of conceiving u greut
jiolicy would constitut(! a greut King, lie would
certainly have been one. . . . He aimed at mak-
ing the t'rown virtually independent of the barons.
. . . HisconiK'xioii Willi LouislX., whose brother-
in-law he became, was cert.iinly a misfortune to
him. In France the royal jiower had during the
lust fifty veurs been steudily (Jii the advunce; in
Englund it hud us sleadijy receded; and Henry
wasever hearing from the other sideof the Chan-
nel maxims of government and ideasof royal au-
thority which were utterly inapiilicabl(> to the
uctuui state of his own kingdom. This, like a
premature Stu.art, Henry was iiicu])uble of \wr-
ceiving; a King he wus, und a King he would be,
in his own sense of the word. It is evident tliut
with such a tusk before him, he needed for the
most shadowy '•liance of su<:cess, an iron strength
of will, singular self-control, great forethought
and care in collecting and liusbanding his re-
.sources, a rare talent for administration, tin; sa-
gacity to choose and the .self-reliance to trust his
counsellors. And not one of these various (niali-
ties did Henry jio.ssess. . . . Henry had imbiiied
from the events and the tutors of his curly cliild-
liood two maxims of state, ami two alone : to trust
Home, und to distru.st the buroiis of England.
. . . He filled 1 he placesof trust and power about
liimself with aliens, to whom the maintenance of
Papal influence wus like un instinct of self-pre-
servution. Thus were definitely formed the two
greut i)urties out of whose antagonism the War
()f the Barons arose, under whose influence the re-
laticms between the crown and people of England
were remodelled, and out of whose enduring con-
flict rose, indirectly, the iiolitical principles which
contributed so largely to bring about the Ke-
formuticmof the English Church. The few years
which followed the full of Hubert de Burgh were
the heyiluy of Papal triumph. Awl no triumph
could have been worse used. . . . Thus was the
whole country lying a prey to the ecclesiastical
aliens muintuined liy tlie Pope, and to the luy
aliens maintained bv the King,
when Simon
do Mont fort became . . . inseparably intermixed
with the course of our history. ... In the year
1258 oitened the first act of the great drama
which has made the name of Simcm de Mont-
fort immortal. . . . The Barons of England,
at Leicester's suggestion, had leagued for the
defence of their rights. They appeared armed
at the Great Council. . . '. Thoy required as the
condition of their assistance that the general
807
ENOLANI). 13ia-l27».
Sinum <U Mnnt/ort. ENGLAND, 1210-1374.
rrformntion of tlu- nvilin should J>o cntniHtcd
to II CoiiiiiiiHsioii iif twiiity four iiii'mlirrs. half
to Im' clinycii liv Ihr «ro\Mi, iiml lialf liy them-
wlvcH. For thf fliTilcii uf this liody, prima-
rily, an<l for a mm- explicit statiimnt of irrifv-
iinccH, till- (ircat Coumil was to meet ajjain at
<»\ford oil tlir' mil of .lime. I'.W. WIkii tin-
n.iroiis caiiii', tiny apjirand at ihi- head of tin ir
ntaiiurs. The iiiva^ioii of the Welsh was tin-
plea ; hut the real daiiL'er was nearer home. They
Hei/i^d oil the CilKiUc Torts; the lllireliewed t nice
with France was tin- excuse; they rellK'liihercd
tiMi vividly Kill:,' .Iciliii ami his foreitrn mercena-
ries. They ih( II prixiii'd their petition. This
w:i.s <lire<ied to the ridress of various ahuses.
. . . 'I'o each and every cl.iMse the Kini; fxave his
inevitaiile assent. ( )ne more reniark:iiile eiicroaeh-
intiil was made iijion the royal preroualive; the
clr-ciion ill I'arliament of a chief jiihliciar. . . .
The chi( f justiciar was the tirst olllcer of the
Crown. lie was not n iiure cliief justice, uftcr
the fashinii of the present day, inil the reiireseiila-
tive of the Cidwn in its liiLrh charaeler of the
fountain of jiislice. . . . Hut the point u]ioii
which the liarons laid the treatest stress, from the
heiriniiiii;: to the end of ilieir struiriile, was the
i|Ucstlon id' the ( inployineiit of aliens. That the
Ktronjrot castles and I lie fairest lands of Kiii;land
should he in tlie hands of funiifiiers, was an in-
sult to the iiatidiial spirit which no free ])eop!e
(â– ould fail to ics; nt. . . . llnirland for the Kiil,'-
lish. the irreat \.ar cry of the harons, went home
to the heart of the liiimlilesi, . . . The irreat
quest ion of the const it lit ion of Parli imeiit was not
heard at () ^foid ; It emer^red into imiiortance when
the stru;r,!rle jrrcw liercer, and the harons found
it necessary to jrather allies round tlK'iii. . . .
One other measure completed the proijrainmo of
the h.irons; namely, the ai>]>(iiiilmeiit, already re-
ferred to, of a committee of tweiilyl'our. . . .
It amounted to pl.icini,' the crown under the con-
trol of a temporary Council of Ucfcncy [see t)x-
K(iiii>, I'uovisio.Ns ok]. . . . Part of the harons'
work was simple enoULdi. The juslici;ir was
named, and the conimiltee of twenty-four. To
ex]iel till' foreiirners was less easy. Simon dc
.Monlfort, himself an alien hy hirtii, resiiriied the
two castles which he held, and called upon the
rest to f,ill()w. They simply refused. . . . I3ut
the harons were in arms, and prepared to use
them, 'i'lie aliens, with their few P2nglish sup-
porters, lied to Winchester, where the castle was
in the hands of the foreij^n hisliop Aymer. They
were liesiciied, hrouirht to terms, and exiled. The
Imrons were now masters of the situation. . . .
Ainonj^ the prerojiatives of the crown which
passed to the Oxford Commission not the least
Yiiluahle, for tli(! hold which it jhwq on the jren-
••ral irovernment of the c(ainfry, was the rif,dit to
nominate the sheriffs. In I'JGl the King, who
liiul procured a Papal hull to ahrogate the Pro-
visions of Oxford, and an army of inereeiiaricis
to give the hull elTect, proceeded to expel the
sherilTs who had hecn jilaced in olUce by the
barons. The rejily of the harons was most nicno-
riiMe; it was a diVect appeal to the order liehiw
their own. They suninKMied three knightselected
fnnn each county in Kngland to meet them at St.
Alhans to discuss the state cif the realm. It was
clear that the dav of the House of Commons
could not he far distant, when at such a crisis an
appeal to the knightsof the shire could he made,
andevidently made withsucces.s. Foru moment,
in this great move, the whole stn-ngth of the
harons was united ; hut dllTerencoH soon returned,
and auainst divideil counsels the crown steadilv
prevailed. In .lune, I'Jdi, we lliid peiK-erestoreii.
The more inoderaleof the harons hail aci|uicsced
in the terms olTercd hy Ileiiry; .Monlfort, who
refused them, was ahroad in voluntary exile. . . .
Suddenly, in duly, the Karl of (Jloucester died,
and the sole leadership of the liarons passed into
the hands of Monlfort. With this crilical event
opens the last act in the c.ireer of the great Karl.
InOetoher he ret urns privat(dy to Kiiglaiid. TIk;
whole winter is pjis^eil in the patient reorganising
of the parly, and the iireparation for u decisive
struggle. Montt'ort, fervent, elo(|Uent, and de-
voted, swayeil with despotic intlucnce the hearts
of the younger Hollies (and few in those days lived
to he grey), and taught them to feel that the I'ro-
visions of Oxford were to them what the Onat
Charter had hceii to their falhers. They wer;
drawn together with an unanimity unknown he-
fore. . . . They dcmaiiiled the restoration of the
(treat Provisions. The King refused, and in .May,
lifKt, the harons appealed to arms. . . . Henry,
with ii reluctant hand, suhscrihed once more to
the l'rovi>ioiis of Oxford, with a saving clause,
however, that they should he revised in the coming
ParlianicnI. On the !Jth of Septeniber. accord-
iiiudy. Parliament was assemhled. . . . The King
anil the harons agreed to sulmiit their dilferences
to the iirhilralioiiof I.ouisof France. . . . Louis
IX. had done more than any one king of France
to enlarge the royal iirerogalive; and Louis was
the hrolher in law of Henry. His award, given
at Amiens on the '2l>il of January, I'JfU, was, as
we should have expected, ah.solutely in favour
of the King. The whole I'rovisioiis of Oxford
were, in his view, an invasion of the royal jiower.
. . . The harons were astounded. . . . They nt
once said that the question of the enqiloynient
of aliens was never meant to b(! included. . . .
The appeal was made once again to the sword.
Success for a niouunt inclined to the royal side,
hut it was only for a moment; and on the meniora-
lile tielil of i.ewes the genius of Leicester pre-
vailed. . . . AVith the two kingsof England and
of the Komans prisoners in his hands, .Mont fort
dictated the terms of the so-called Miseof Lewes.
. . . Subject to the approval of Parliament, all
(lifTereiues were to be sulimitted once mor«! to
French arbitration. ... On the 23d of June the
Parliament met. It was no longer a Great Coun-
cil, after the fashion of previous a.ssemblies; it
includeil four knights, eleeted by each English
county. This Parliament gave such sanction as
it was able to the exceptional authority of Mont-
fort, and ordered that until the proposed arbitra-
tion could be carried out, the King's council should
consist of nine persons, to be named by the Bishop
of Chichester, and the Earls of Gloucester and
Leicester. The efTect was to give Simon for the
timedespotic jiower. . . . It was at length agreed
that all (iuestions whatever, the employment of
aliens alone excepted, should be referred to the
Bishop of London, the ju.sticinr Hugh le Despeu-
ser, Charlesof Anjou, and tlie Abbotof Bee. If on
any point they could not agree, the ArehUlsliop
of Rouen was to act as refereeJi . . It was . . .
not simply the expedient of arevolutifmary chief
in dilliciilties, but the e.xpressicm of a settled and
matured policy, when, in December 1264, [Mont-
fort] issued in the King's uaine the ever-nieniorn-
ble writs which summoned the tirst complete Par
808
ENGLAND, 1.'10-1,'74.
JCiiuuid J.
KNUI.AM). IJ;.-. IJl).-)
liiinicnt whlcli cvir met in KtiL'liind. The curU.
baroiiH, mill liiHlii)|)H rcccivnl tlii'ir kiihiiiioiis as
of CDiirsc; ami with lliciii tlic deans ol' catlicilral
cliiirchcH, an iiniircccilcntril niinilitr of ablxits
ami priDiN, two kni;:lils Inun cvfry sliirc, ami two
citi/cns or hur^'csscs I'roni every ('it y or borotiirli
in Kn;rlan(l. Of lliiir proeeedinns we Unow l)iit
lillle; l)iil lliey appear to liiue appointed Simon
de Montforl to tlu; otllecof .lustieiar of Kn^land.
and to have thus made 1dm in ranlv, what he had
liel'ore been in power, the lirsl subjcet in th(!
realm. . . . Mont fort . . . had now gone so far,
he had exercised siieh ••xiraordinary powers, he
had done so many thinirs whicii eoidd neverreally
be pardoned, that perhaps his only thanee of
safety lay in the jxjssession of some sueh olliee as
this.' It is certain, moreover, that something
which passed in this i'arliament, or almost exactly
at the tim(! of its mcetinir, did cause deep otTence
toa considerablesectiunof the l)arons. . . . Dilll-
culties wi-re visii)ly jiatherin;; thicUeruroiindhim,
and he wiis evidently conscious that disall'ection
was Hprcadin;:: fast. . . . Ne;rociations went for-
ward, not very smoothly, for the relcas(! of Prince
Edward. They were terminated in ^lay by his
cscai>e. It was the sii^nal for a royalist risin,:^.
Kdward took the conunand of the \Vclsli border;
before the udddlc of June he had made the l)or-
der his own. On the L'tith (Jloucester opened its
grates to him. He had many secret friends, lb;
pushed fearles.sly ca.stward, and surj)riscd the gar-
rison of Keinlw(jrth, commanded by Simon, the
lOarl's second son. The Earl himself lay at Eves-
ham, awaiting tlu! troops which Ids son was to
bring uj) from Kenilworth. . . . On the fatal
Held of Evesham, tightingsidc bysidctoihe last,
fell the Earl him.self, his oldest son Henry, I)e-
si)enser the late Justiciar, Lord IJasset of Dray-
ton, one of his lirmest friends, and a ho.st of ndnor
name. AVith them, to all ai)pearanee, fell the
cause for which thej* bad fought." — Simon dc
Miintfiirt (Quiirtfvln U,r., Jan., IHtiU). — Sec
I'AUij.v.MicNT, TiiK Enoi.isii: E.mu.y STA(ii:s ok
ITS EvoMrTiON. — "important as tiiis a.s.sembly
[the Parliament of 12(]4| is in the history of the
constitution, it was not i)rimarily and cs.sentially
a constittitional assembly. It was not a gene-
ral convention of the tenants in chief or of the
three estates, but a parliamentary assend)ly of the
sujjporters of the existing government." — W.
btubbs, t'onnt. Hint, of A'ltf/., c/i. H,ii<rt. lT7(/\ 2).
Also ix: The same, T/te Enrli/ P/dntiif/iiu'tx.
— G \V. I'rothero, Life of ISiiuun tic Mont /'m-t, ch.
11-1'.3.— II. IJIaauw, The Jhiroiix' llWr— C. II.
Pearson, J-Jii;/l<ind, Dirli/ and Middle Af/f.s, e. 2.
A, D. 1271. — Crusade of Prince Edward.
See ('urs.\i)i;s: A. D. 1270-1-271.
A. D. 1272.— Accession of King Edward I.
A. D. 1275-1295.— Development of Parlia-
mentary representation under Edward I. —
"Happily, Earl Simon [de .Montforl] found a
sucees.sor, and more than a successor, in the
king's [Henry III. 's] sou. . . . Edward I. stood
on the vantage ground of the throne. . . . He
ccmld do that easily and without clTort which
Simon could only do laboriously, and with the
certainty of rousing opjiositiou. Esjiecially was
this the ca.se with the encouragement given by
the two men to the growing^aspirations after
parliamentary representation. Earl Simon's as-
semblies were instruments of warfare. Edwaril's
assemblies were invitations to peace. . . . Barons
and prelates, knights and townsmen, came to-
gether ordy to support a king who took the
initiative sii wisely, and who. knowing what
was best for all, soiiirlil the g(M)d of his kingdou)
without tiiought of his own ease. Vet even so,
Edward wa-. too prudent at oni'e to gather to-
gether such a Ixtdy as that which I'.arl Simon
had planned. He sununoned, indeed, ail the
constilueni parts of Simon's parliament, tint he
seldom sununoned them to meet in one jilace or
at one time. Sometimes the barons and prelates
met apart from the townsmen or the knights,
sometimes one or the other class met iiitirely
alone. . . . In tins way, during the tirsi twenty
ve.irs of Edwaril's reign, the nation rapidly grew
in that consciousness of national imiiy which
would one day transfer I he function of regulation
from tile crown to the represi ntalives of the
people." — S. U. Gardiner and J. 11. .Miillinger,
/ill. Ill the Stnihi of Eiiij. Hint., eh. 4, uret. 17. —
" In I'itil Simon de Mont fort had called ui) from
both shires and boroughs re|)reseiitalives to aid
him in the new work of government. That jiart
of Earl Simon's work had not been 'asting. The
task was left for Edward I. to be advanced by
gradual safe steps, but to bi; tlioroiighly com-
pleted, as a part of a delinile and orderly arrange-
ment, according to which the English parliament
was to be the pi'rfect representation of the Three
Estates of the Kealm, assembled for purposes of
taxation, legislation and united ])olitical action.
. . . Edward's lirst parliament, in 127."», cnalilcd
him to pass a great statute of legal reform, called
the Statute of Westminster the First, and to
exact the new custom on wool; another assem-
bly, the same year, graiiti'd him a llftecnlh. . . .
There is no evidence that the commons of either
town or (ouiity were represenled. ... In rJ82,
when the expenses of the AVel.ih war were be-
coming heavy, Edward again tried the jihin of
obtaining money from the towns and counties by
separate negotiation; but as that did not jirovide
him with funds sullieieiil for his purpose, he
called to.gether, early in 1'28I5, two great a.ssem-
blies, i.:ic at York and another at Jsorthamiiton,
in whicli four knights from each shire and four
members from each city and borough were or-
dered to attend; the cathedral and conventual
clergy also of the two provinci'S were reiiresentcd
at tile .same ])laces by their elected proctors. At
tiiese assemblies then; was no attendance of the
barons; they were with the king in Wales; but
the commons iiinile a grant of one-thirtieth on
the understanding that the lords should do the
same. Aiiollier assembly was held atShrewslniry
the same year, 12s;}, to witness the trial of David
of Wales; to this the bishops and clergy were not
called, but twenty towns and all the counties
were ordered to send representatives. Another
step was taken in 121)0: knights of the shire
were again summoned; but still much remained
to J)e done before a .perfect ]>arliament was con-
stituted. C'oun.scl was wanted for h nislation,
consent was wanted for t;ixation. I he lords
were summoned in May, and did t' ir work in
June and July, granting a feudal ai ind passing
the statute 'Quia Emptores,' but the knights
only came to vote or to promisi; a tax, after a
law had been passed; and the towns wen; again
taxed by special commissions. In r2!(4, . . .
Imder the alarm of war with France an alarm
which led Edward into several breaches of con-
stitutional law, he went still further, assembling
the clergy by their repiesentutivcs in August,
801)
KN<n-ANI), 1275-1205.
hiriiitmmtin 1/
li'ilirtiMiitiiliiiH.
KN(JLANI), I27.V1205.
imil till- Hliln-H liv llii'ir n-pniu'iilntivc kiiklitf* in
iUioUr. Tin- iiixl yiiir, ViU't, wilmsHiil tin-
llrtt hiiiiiinoiiHiir II iicrfiM I ami iiumIcI |mrlluincnt ;
llir rl.rity npnscnicil nv lli'ir liishii|is, iIiiimm,
anlnliiMi'iH, iitnl (Ircicif iinxttirx; the liiinmH
Huiniimnnl hvi nillv in p<rj.<in Uy tin- l»inK''H
Hpcriul will, iiml tlic ((.nininfH Mi?niiu>n<il liy
wrIlH lulilrtsHcil t.» till' shcrilN. (liri'iiinv lli<in l<>
Hitul lip l\M'ilr( till kiik'lii-* fiiiiiii'K li shiri'. two
rliilcil cili/.cim Iruni iii< li <il y, ami I wo elected
liiirtrlient frum c.k li Imri'iit'li. Tin' writ liy
wlileli the prelates wereeiilleil In this pMrliilinellt
«'<illl;iine(l II filllliMl seiitehee lllkell frnlll the
|{.iiii;iii law, ''I'liil wliieli Ioik In h mII sIi<piiI(1 lie
iipimiM (I liy nil,' a inaxiin wlileli iiii;,'lit serve ih
Ik iiiuiii) fur llilwanrHeiinHliliitional Kclieme, Imw-
fVerKliiwIy it itrew iipnii hiiii, imw ])eriiiaiieiiily
iinii riilisistelitly (niiiplelrii," — \V. Slillilis, '/'Ac
k'irli/ I'liinliiii'i mix, «•//. 1((. — "('(impaling' the
liihliiry of the follnwiiii; ajies with that of tlu,'
punt, wiM-aii Hcarcely iloiilit that ivlwanl liaii ii
iletlliite iileii of froveminellt liefore his eyex, or
Hint llial iiiea waMHiiccessfiil Itecause it approved
itself to the genius and ^rew out of the lialiils of
the iMople. Kilward saw, in fact, what the
nation was capalile of, and adapted his coiistitii'
tioiial rel'orniH to that capacity. Hut altiioiiLdi
we may not refuse him I lie credit of desi^'ii, il
may still he (Hiestioned whether the dcsiu'ii Avas
altiV'clher voluntary, whether It was not forcr'd
upon him liy cinninstances and developed hy a
Heries of <'arefiil experiineiiis. , . . The desi'in.
iiH interpreted liy tin' result, was the creation of
II niitiotial parliamint, composed of the threi;
estates. . . . 'I'his desiu;!! was jierfecteil in I'J!).').
If was iiiit the result ot eompulsioii, hut the con-
Hiiinmation of a tjro'.viiij; policy. . . , Jliit the-
rloHo imion of PJit.*! was lollowed liy the compul-
sion of l',M»7: out of the organic coinitletcness of
the conslilulion spranj; the power of resistance,
and out of the resistance the victory of tlu; prin-
ciples, which Kdwaril ini;:lit /^iiide, hut which
he failed to coerce." — \V, Slulilis, CoiiMlitutioiKd
Hist, of h'lii/., fh. ir>, Hirt. 'J4t and eh. 14, hiH.
lH(MH-j._The same, Sihrt ('li<irtn-K, />(. 7.—
â– "riie llllh century was aliove all thini;s the aire
of the lawyer and the lei^islator. Tlic revived
Htudvof Uoinan law had lieeii om^of tlu; greatest
rcNsiids of the intellectual renaissance of the
twelfth century. 'I'he eii(iriuous jjrowth of tlu-
universities in the early part of the thirteenth
rentury was in no small measure due to the /eal,
ardour and success of theirl(%'-al facilities. From
IJoloUiia there llowed all over Kurope a j^reat
impulse towards the systematic and .scientilic
study of the Civil Law of Koine. . . . Tho
northern lawyers were inspired by their emula-
tion of the civilians and canonists to look at the
rude chaos of feudal custom with more critical
eyes. They Houirlit to ^rive it more system and
method, to elicit itsleadini,' principles,"aud to co-
ordinate its clashinjr rules into a h.irinonious
liody of doctrine worthy to lie put side by side
with the more pretentious editices of the Civil
and Canon Law. In this sjiirit Henry de IJrac-
toii wrote the lirst systematic exposition of Knj;-
lish law in the reiijii(if llcmy 111. The judges
and lawyers of the reii;n of'Kdward sought to
put the principles of Ikacton into jiiactice. Ed-
ward him.self strove with no small .success to
carry on the same great work liy new leirislation.
. . . His well-known title of the ' English .lus-
tiuiau ' is not so absiml us it uppears at lirst
sluht. lie did not inen'lv rcRi'inblo .Itistinlan In
Im liiu'ii irrcal lei;lslalor. Like the fainoUH<odlller
of the Koiiian law, Edward stood at the end of ii
ioii'.; peri'Hl of leiral development, and sought to
arrange and systematise what had gone before
him. Some of his great laws are almost in form
atlempts at the systeii>aticco<litlcatioii of various
bramhes of feudal custom. . . . Edward wa.s
greedy for jiower, and a constant object of ills
legislittioti was the exaltation of tlu! royal pre-
roirative. Mut he nearly always took a broad
and comprehensive vii'W of h)s authority, and
thoroughly grasped the truth that the best in-
terests of king and kingdom were identical. He
wished to rule Hie state, but was willing to take
his subjects into partiicrslii|i w ith him, if lliey in
return recognised his royal rights. . , . Tliesaniu
principles which inlliicnced Edward as a law-
giver slainl out clearly in his rclal ions to every
class of his subjects. ... It was the greatest
work of Edward's life to make ii iiermaneiit and
ordinary part of the niaihinery of English gov-
ernment, what in his father's time had Iwcn but
the temporary expedient of a needy taxgathercr
or the last despairing clTort of ii revolutionary
partisan. Edward I. is — so much as <iiie man
can be — the creator of the historical I'iiiglisli
<<instjtuli()n. It is true that tin; materials wero
ready to his hand. Hut bid'ore lie came to the
throne the parts of the constitiition, tliouLdi al-
ready roughly worked out, weris ill (lellned and
ill-understood. Meforc his death the national
council was no longer regarded ii.t complete! un-
less it contained a systematic reiiresentation of
the three estates. AH ov<'r Kuro,.c the thirteenth
century saw tlut establishment of a system of
estates. The various classes of tlio community,
which had a separati; social status and a comiiion
political interest, became organised communities,
and sent their representatives to sw<dl tlie council
of the nation. Hy Edward's time there liad
already grown up in England some rough an-
ticipation of the three estates of later history.
. . . It was with no intention of (limiiushing his
power, but rather with the object of enlarging
it, tliat Edward called the nation into some ifort
of itartnership with him. The sjjecial clue to
this aspect of his policy is his constant financial
embarrassment, lie found that he could get
larger and more cheerful subsidies if lie laid his
liiiancial condition before the representatives of
his people. . . . The really important thing was
that Edward, like .Montl'ort, brought shire and
borough re])rc.sentatives together iii a single es-
tate, and so taught the country gentry, the lesser
landowners, who, in a tinu; when direct partici-
pation in polities was iiu])ossible for a lower
class, were the real constituencies of Uiv shire
n)emliers, to look upon their inttirests as more in
common with the traders of lower social status
than with the greater landlords witit whom in
most continental countries the lesser gentry were
forced to associate their lot. The result strength-
ened the union of classes, prevented the growth
of the abnoinially numerous privileged nobility
of most foreign cotnitries, iind broadened and
deepened the main current of the national life."
— T. F. Tout, /■S'lirorift/ic Fimt, c/i. 7-8.— "There
was nothing in England which ans^vered to the
"third estate' in France — a class, that is to .say,
both isolated and close, composed exclusively of
townspeople, enjoying no commerce with the
rural population ^except such as consisted in the
810
ENGLAND. 1275-1^0.',.
I'ltlMil iirrlrniiiiiiu
mitlril.
KN(}|.ANI). i:(im;-i:i»;j.
n'<<-|>ll<inf)f fiiirltlvcN), and nt hikc dclcMlinif uml
(IrciKliiiK tl"' iiiiliility hy whom ii whs surnMiiulril.
Ill KmkIiiiiiI till' ciiiilniry was llii' casi-. Tlic
tiisviisfiilk ami the ntlirr daHscs in cadi ('(Hiiily
w'< re Mii'iiwii tDircllii'i' upon iiiiiiiiiirli'HsoccasiiiiiH;
u lout; |i)'rio(l of coiiinioii artiviiy cD'atcil a cor-
ill', I iiiiii('rslaii(liii< liclwri'ii tlii' liiii'LrlirrH on tiic
line liaiiil and lliclr nci^JiiilKiiirs the kni^lils and
l.ii'dow ni'i's on *iic otiirr. and linally prcpaii'd
lie way I'oitlir fiisioii of (lie two riasscs. "— ft.
Itiiiiliny, T/ii /:'ii!//iKk ('miiitihitidii, ih. \\.
A. D. 1279,— The Statute of Mortmain.—
•' l''or many years jmsl, tlic jrrcat danirir to the
liaiani'c of jiowcr appiaicd (o conic from tlic
rc^fular clcrj^y, who, favoured liy the suceess of
theiiicndlcant orders, wcrcaddiii!; house to house
and Held to Held. Ni" erdyin^oiit like families,
and rarely losinj; by forfi'ilures, the nionasleries
liii^lit well iiiirh caleiilale the time, when all the
soil of Kn^land should lie their own. . . . Ae-
(!ordiiij,dy, om- of the tirsl a( Is of the liarons
under licnry III. had lieen to enact, that, no fees
Hliould he aliened to religious pcr.sons or corpo-
rations. iCdward re cnacled and strcii;;tliciicd
this liy various provisions in the famous Statute
of .Mortmain. 'I he fee illeirally aliened was now
to he torfcilcd to tli(> chief lord under the Ivin;;;
and if, liy collusion or neglect, the lord omitted
to claim his ri^lit, tlu; crown mi;j;lit enter upon
il. N(!vcr was statute! more unpopular w ith the
class at whom it was aimed, more cea.selessly
eluded, or inori! clTcctual. . . . Once the clcrjjy
seem to have meditated open resistance, for, in
l'.iHI, \si\ tind the kini; warniiif; the bishops, who
were then in convocation at liambelh, as they
loved their baronies, to discuss nothinj; that, ap-
iiertaincd to the crown, or the kiiij^'s person, or
his council. 'l"he warning appears to have proved
cfrectual, and tlit' cler.u;y found less daii'.erou;-)
cmiilovment in elaborating siibth; evasions of tlu;
obno.xious law. At llrst fictitious recoveries were
practised; an abbey briiifjinj; a suit against a
would-be donor, who permitted judgment against
him to go by default. When this was prohibited,
tqii'cial charters of exemption were proeiired.
Once ail attempt was made to smuggle! a dispens-
ing bill through parliament. <Jne politic abbot
in the ir»th century encouraged his friends to
make bc(int'sts of land, sulTered them to escheat,
and then liegged them back of the <!rown, play-
ing on the religious feelings of Henry VI. Yet
it is .strong pro">f of the salutary terror which the
8tatut(! of .Slortinain inspired that even then the
abbot was not (luieted, and iirocurcd an Act of
Parliament to jmrge him frcmi any eonse(|ueiiees
of his illegal iiractic! s. In fact, tli(! fear, lest
astute crown lawyei-s should involve a rich
foiintlatiou in wholesale forfeitures, seems some-
times to have hampered its members in tin; exer-
cise of their undoubted rights as citizens." — C.
H. I'eai-son, Jliiit. of Kinjliind Uuriny the Early
iiiid Middle Af/e«, i'. 2, r/i. J).
Also in; E. F. Henderson, Scleri Hint. Docs.
— K. E. Digby, Lair of liinl {'ropcrti/ (Uh rd.).
A. D. 1282-1284.— Subjugation of Wales.
See Wams: A. 1). IV'HM-.'Sl.
A. D. 1290-1305. -Conquest of Scotland by
Edward I. Sec Scoti-and: A. 1), 12!»()- 1:50.1.
14th Century.— Immigration of Flemish ar-
tisans. — The founding of English manufac-
tures. Sec Fi.ANDK.us: A. 1). i;{;r>-i;5:!7.
A. D. 1306-1303.— Resistance to the Pope.
—" For one hundred uud lifty yeurs Huccecdiug
the ron(|UeHt, the right of nominating tlie arch-
bishops, bishops, and mitred aiibots had been
I laiiiied and exercised by the king. Thin right
had been specially conllrined by the Coistitu-
lions of Clarendnn, which also provided that tin*
ri'venues of vacant sees should beioiig In the
Crown. Kut -lohn admitted all tie I'apal claims,
surrendering even his kingdun ti' the I'ope, and
receiving il back as a llcf of tl. Holy See. Ily
the (Jieat Charter the Church n ,.)vered ils liber
ties; the right of free election being specially
conceded to the cathedral chapters and the re-
ligious houses. Every election was, however,
subject to the approval of the I'ope, who also
claimed a riirlit of veto on insiiiulions to the
smaller church beiiellees. . . . liider Henry 111.
the power thus vested in the I'ope and foreign
superiors of the monastic orders was greatly
abused, and soon degenerateil into a mere chan-
nel for draining money into the Koiiian exchei|-
uer. Kdwiird I. lirmly withstood the exaclion.H
of the l'ii|)e, and reasserted the indepeiidenee of
both Church and Crown. ... In the reign of
the great Edward began a series of statutes
passed to check the aggressions id' the I'ope and
restore the independence of the national cliiirch.
TIk! lirst of the series was jiassed in i;i()(i 7. . . .
This statute was conlirmed under Edward III.
in the -ith, and again in the Tith year of his reign ;
and in the ^.'itli of his reign | A. I). V\'A |, roii.sed
'by the grievous complaints of all the commons
of his realm,' the King and Parliament jiassed
the famous Statute of I'rovisors, aimed directly
at the I'ojte, and emphatically forbidding his
nominations to English beneliccs. . . . Three
years afterwards it was found uecessary to jiass
a statute forbidding citations to the court of
Home — |tlie prelmle to the Statute of I'ricinu-
iiire, described below]. ... In i:J8(), there was
an expectation that the I*op(! was about to at-
temjitto enforce his claims, by excommunicaling
those who rejected them. . . . The Parliament
at once passed a highly jienal statute. . . . Mat-
ters wen? shorti}' afterwards brought to a cri' is
by Honiface I.\., who after ileclaring the stat-
utes enacted by the Knglish Parliament null and
void, granted to an Italian cardinal a |irebendal
stall at Wells, to which the king had already
]U'eseiited. Cro.ss suits were lit once instituted
by the two claimants in the Papal and English
courts. A decision was giveti by tlit? latter, in
favour of the king's nominee, mid the bishops,
having agreed to support the Crown, were forth-
with excommuiiicaled by the Pope. The Com-
mons were now roused to the highest pitch of
indignation," — and the linal great Statute of
Pnuinunire was passed, A. I). llSiC!. "The linn
and resolute atfilude assumed by the country
caused Honiface to yield; 'and for the moment,'
observes .Mr. Fronde, 'and indeed forever under
this especial form, the wave of papal encroach-
ment was rolled back.'" — T. P. Taswell-Lang-
mcad, h'lif/. Vonxt. JfM., cli. 11. — "The gnat
Slatut(( of I'rovisors, passed in WVA, was a very
solemn expression of Ww National determinalioii
not to give way to the pope's usurpation of pat-
ronage. . . . All jicrsons procuring or accepting
jiapal promotions wen; to be arrested. ... In
lli.l'v the ])urclias«'rs of Provisions were declan-d
outlaws: in 13(5.') another act re]>eated the prohi-
bitionsand penalties; and in lUDO the parliament
of Hichard II. rehearsed and contlrmed the stat-
ute. By this act, forfeiture aad bauislimeut were
811
ENGLAND, miQ-l'Mi.
Eilwiirit HI.
KNGLAND, 1333-1380.
(Itcnicd npiinst future triiiisj;rcssf)rs," T!i<' Stiil-
lite of I'rifiimiiin- iis emu tctl tiii.illy in 13!i;J. pm-
vidi-d llial "all inrMins ]irii(iiriii>; in lliccomt (if
Kdiiic nr tlscwliiTc Mil li Iranslalioiis. jir(»<cs.scs,
wiiU'ii.rs "f txcoimnuiiicalioii, l)iills. instrii-
luciits (ir olliir tliiiiL's wiiicli loiicli llif Uiiiir. liis
urowii. regality nr n^aliii, should siilfcr the jmii-
altii-sof ipraiiiuiiirc'—wliicli included inii)ns(iM-
inent an<l f irfeiture of ^^>ods. "Tlie name pra'-
inunire wliidi marks this form of leirislation is
taken i'roni the openintr word of the writ liy
which tiic KherifT is ciiarK^ed to summon the de-
limiuent."~W. SHibbs, Cuimt. IIM. of L'n;/., c/i.
]'.). 1-,'i. 7 1 5-7 HI.
A. D. 1307.— Accession of King Edward II.
A. D. 1310-1311.- The Ordainers. — 'At the
iiarlianunl wliidi met in March i:ilO [rei.i,ni of
Kdward ll.|anc\v scIkiuc of reform was jiro-
mul.L''aied. vvhicli was framed on the moih'l of
that (if r,'">s and the Provisions of ().\ford. It
was determined that the task of rcirulatintr tlie
affairs of the realm and of the kinsr"s liou.sehold
hhould heconuuilted to an elected liody of I'vonty-
oni' ineinliers. or Ordainers, tlie chief of whom
WHS Archliishop AVinchelsey. . . . The Ordain-
ers were em]»owered to remain in olliee inilil
Mivhaelmas loll, and to make ordinances for the
frood of the realm, airreealile to the tenour of the
kinj^'s coronation oalli. The whole administra-
tion of tile kinirdom thus jia.ssed into tin ir hands.
. . . The Ordainers inunediately on their ai)i)oint-
nieiit issticd hix articles directinj^ the <)l)servance
of the charters, the careful collection of the cus-
toms, and the arrest of the foreiirn merchants;
but the great body of the ordinances was re-
served for the parliament which met in August
1311. The famous document or statute known
us the Ordinances of 1311 contained forty-
one clauses, all aimed at existing abuses.'' — \\'.
.Stiibbs, 77«' Knrhi I'liiiitniji tittn. rh. \'i.
A. D. 1314-1328.— Bannockburn and the re-
covery of Scottish independence. See .Scoi-
i.AMi: A. 1>. i:5H; i:il4-i:Ws.
A. D. 1327.— Accession of King Edward III.
A. D. 1328.— The Peace of Northampton
with Scotland. Stc S( oti.am): A. 1). i:iJN.
A. D. 1328-1360. — The pretensions and wars
of Edward III. i.n France. !-^ce Fi:.\N( i;: A. 1).
132S-i:!:j«j; and i;i:!7-i:!(!it.
A. D. 1332-1370.— The wars of Edward III.
with Scotland. See Scotland: A. D, KWJ-
i:'.:!:i. and i:i:!;i-l37(>.
A. D. 1333-1380.— The effects of the war in
France. — "A period of great wars is generally
favourable to the growth of a nobility. Jle'n
wl»o (Miuipped large bodies of troops' for the
(Scotch or French wars, or who had served with
distinction in them, naturally liad a claim for re-
ward at the hands of their .sovereign. . . . Tiie
Kith (enturj !iad broken up estates all over Eng-
land and multiplied families of the \ippi r chiss;
the lltli century was consolidating jiropeHics
again, and establishing a l)roail division between
a few powerful nol)les and the ma>;s of the com-
inunity. Hut if the gentry, as an order, lost a
little in n lative imitorlance" by the formation of
u class of gnat nobles, niore'distinct than had
e.xi.sted before, the middle classes of Kngland, its
nuTc'iantsand yeom"n, gained verv much in im-
portanee by the war. fnder the lirni rule of
the ' KitiL' of the Sea,' as liis subjects lovingly
("iillcil Kdward HI., our conunerce expanded".
Englishmen rose to an equalltv with the mer-
chants of the Jlanse Towns, the (lenoe.se, or the
]>ombar(ls. and lOngland for a \'mw overllowcd
with treasure. The first jieriod of war, ending
with the capture of Calais, secured our coasts;
the second, terminated by the peace of J5retigny,
lirought the jilunder oi' half France into tlie
IJiglish markets; and even when Edward's reign
bad closed oil defeat and bankrupti'y, and our
own shores were ra\aged by hostile fleets, it was
still jiossible for jirivate adventurers to retaliate
invasion upon the enemy. . . . The romance of
foreign coiKiuest, of fortunes lightly gained and
lightly lost, intlueuced Knglish enterprise for
many years to come. . . . The change to the lower
orders during the reign arose rather from the
fre(iuent ]iestileiices, which reduced the num-
ber of Working men and made labour valu-
alile, than from any immediate participation in
the war. In fact, English serfs, as u rule, did
not serve in IMward's armies. They could not
be men-at-arms or .-ircliers for want of training
and ('(luiiunent; and for tin; work of light-armed
troojis and for.igers, the Irish and Welsh seem to
have been iirei'errcd. 'i'he ojiportunity of the
serfs came with the Dlack Death, while districts
were depopulated, and everyw here then; was u
want of hands to till the fields and get in the
cr()i)s. The immediate cfTeet was unfortunate.
. . . The iiidillcreiice of late years, when men
were careless if their villans sta\ed on the prop-
erty or emigrated, was succeeded by a sharp in-
(piisition after fugitive serfs, and constant legis-
lation to bring them back to their masters. . . .
The leading idea of the legislator was that the
labourer, wIkwc work hail doubled or trebled iu
value, was to receive the same; wages as in years
past ; and it was enacted that he might be paid
in kind, and, at last, that in all ca.ses of cou-
tumacy he should be impri.soned without the op-
tion of a tine. . . . The French war contributed
in many w: -.s to heighten the feeling of English
nationality. Our trade, our language and our
Cliureh received anew and powerful influence.
In the early years of Edward III.'s reign, Italian
merchants were the great linanciers of England,
farming the taxes and advancing loans to the
Crown, (iiiidually the instinct of race, the intlu-
eiice of the Pope, and geographical jiosition.
contributed, Avilii the mistakes of Edward's
jiolicy, to make France! the head, as it Avere,
of a confederation of Latin nations. Genoese
ships served in the French licet, Genoese bow-
men fought at CrC'cy, and English privateers
retorted on Gi'iKH'se commerce throughout the
course of the reign. In 13r(> the Commons peti-
tioned that all iiombards might Ik; exiielled the
kingdom, bringing amongst other charges againsi
them that they were French spii'.s. The Floren-
tines do not seem to have been eiiually odiou.^,
but the failure of the great tirm of the Hardi in
13-1."), cliieily through its English engagements,
obliged Edward to seek assistance elsewhere ; and
he transferred the i)rivilege of lending to the
crown to the merchants of the rising llause
Towns." — C. II. Pearson, Knfi. llixt. in the Four-
ticiith ('ciitiiri/, ch. 9. — "We may trace tliedestruc-
•^ 'le notices
live nature of the war with F-
of adjoining parislies tlirdv
of sufiicient inhabitants, '• i
by freijuent ta.xation of <>
they had lied, of cliu:
ruin because there we
their walls, and of reli
' >v want
to WOloilip W ' '
"ises cxtiugulb .cv.
812
ENGLAND, 1333-13S0.
r/ic lilack l>iath.
KNGLAND, 13r.0-H0().
liccMiiso tlio monks and nuns had <li('(1. mul none
liad liccn I'oiinil Id swi>])ly tlu'ir jilaccs. . . . To
the ])ovcrty of the country and tlic conscinicnt
inability of tlic nation to maintain tlie costly
wars of Edwaul III., arc ullrilintcd the enact-
ments of sninptuary laws, whiih were ])assed
because men who spent inncli on their tabic and
dress were unable 'to liel]) their lie;;e lord' in
the battle lield."— "W, Denton, J'Jiig. in the 15th
Coit'in/, inf.. pt. 2.
A. D. 1348-1349. — The Black Death and its
effects. — "The i)la!:ue of l^-l!) . . . produced
ii\ every coimtry some marked social changes.
. . . In Knirland the ell'ects of the i)la!rue are
historically jirominent chieily among the lower
cla.sses of societ}'. The jjopulation was dimin-
ished to an extent to which it is imjiossible now
even to api>n)ximate, but which bewildered and
ajjpalled the writers of the time; whole districts
were thrown out of cnltivation, whok- parishes
depopulated, the luunber of labourers was .so
nuieli diminished that on the one hand the surviv-
ors demanded an extravairant rate of wages, and
even combined to enforce it, whilst on the other
liniid the landowners hud to re.sort to cver^- anti-
(]uated claim of service to get their estates culti-
vated at nil; the whole system of farming was
changed in consequence, the great landlonls and
the monastic corporations ceased to manage their
estates by farming stewards, and after a short
interval, during which the lands with the stock
on tliein were let to the cultivator on short leases,
the modern system of letting was introdiiced,
and the permanent distinction between the farmer
. and the labourer established. " — W. Stubbs, C<>ii8t.
Hist, of Eiiff., cJi. IG. nect. SoO.— "On the lirst of
August 1348 the disease appeared in the seajiort
towns of Dorsetshire, and travelled slowly west-
wards and northwards, through Devonshire and
Somersetshire to Bristol. In order, if jiossible,
to arrest its i)rogress, all intercourse with the
citizens of Bristol was prohibited by the authori-
ties of the county of Gloucester. These pre-
cautions were liowevcr taken in vain ; the Plague
continued to O.xford, and, travelling slowly in
the same measvn-ed way, reached London by the
lirst of November. It appeared in Norwich on
the first of January, and thence spread north-
wards. . . . The mortality was enormous. Per-
haps from one-third to one-half the pojuilation
fell victims to the disease. Adam of Moiunouth
says that only a tenth of the population survived.
Similar amplifications are found in all the chroni-
clers. AVe are told that 00,000 jiersons jH'rished
V Norwich between Jaiuiaiy and July 1349. No
diHibt Norwich was at that time the'second city
in the kingdom, l)»it the niunber is impossible.
... It is stated ihat in England the weight of
the calamity fell on the poor, and that the higher
classes were less severely allected. But Edward's
daugliter Joan fell a victim to it and tlnee arch-
bishops of Canterburj' perished in the same year.
. . . All contemporary writers inform us that the
inunediate consequence of the Plague was a
dearth of labotu-, and excessive enhancement of
wages, and thereupon a serious loss to the land-
owners. To meet this scarcity the king issued a
proclamation directed to the sheriffs of tlie several
comities, which forl-ad the j)ayment of 'ligher
than the customary wages, under the nciialtiesof
amercement. But the king's mniniate was every
where disobeyed. . . . Many of the labotirers
were thrown into prison; maiy to uvoid punish-
55 gj
ment fled to the forests, but were occasionally
captured and lined ; and all were (Dustraine d to
disavow under oath tiiat they would take higliir
than customary wages for the future." — .1. V). T.
Hoiiers, I/i.st. cf Ayricultiive nud Pnci'S in Eng.,
r. i,ch. 1.-).
Also i.n: F. A. (iasijuct, 'J'/k- (Ireat Pcntilnire.
— W. Longman, Hdimnl J 1 1., r. 1, <•//. l(i.— A.
Jessop, 'J'/ie Voiiiiiii "f the Eiiur.'i, dr., ch. A-h
A. D. 1350-1400.— Chaucer r\nd his relations
to English language and li; iture. — " At the
time when the contliet betwctn church and state
was most violent, and wiieii AVyelif was begin-
ning to draw upon himself the eyes of jiatriots,
there was considerable talk at the English court
about a young man named Geoffrey Chaucer,
who belonged to the king's household, and who
liiMh by his jxTsonality and his connections en-
â– joyed tlie favor of the royal family. . . . On
many occasions, even thus early, lie had ap-
])eared as a miracle of learning to those; about
liim — he read Latin as easily as Frencli ; he
spoke a more; select English than others; and
it was known that he had composed, or, as the
cxjire.ssion then was, 'madr.' many beautiful ICng-
lish verses. The yoting jioet lielonged to a well-
to-do middle-class family who Iiad many far-
reaching comiections, and even some intluence
with the court. . . . Even as a boy he maj- have
heard his fathei', John Chaucer, the vintner of
Thames Street, London, telling of thi; marvelous
vovage he liad made to Antwerp and ('ologne in
the brilliant suite of Edward III. in 1338. When
a youth of sixteen or seventeen, Geoffrey served
as a page or sepiire to Elizabeth, duchess of
Ulster, lirst wife of Lionel, duke of Clarence, and
daughter-in-law of the king. He bore arms
when about ninetein years of age, and went to
France in 1359, in the army commanded by
l^dward III. . . . This cpoth formed a sort of
'Indian summer' to the age of chiv.-ilry, and its
spirit fotuid expression in great deeds of war as
well as in the festivals and manners of the coiu't.
The ideal wliicli men strove to realize did not
(|uite correspond to the si)irit of the former age.
On the whole, j>eople had l)ecome more worldly
and practical, and were generally anxious to
lirotect the; real interests of life from the un-
warranted interference of romantic aspiiations.
The spirit of chivalry no longer formeil a fiuida-
mental element, but only an ornament of life —
an ornament, indeed, which was made much of,
and which was looked upon with a .sentiment
l)artaking of enthusiasm. ... In the midst of
this outside world of motley poni]) and throbbing
life Geoffrey could oljserve the doings of high
and low in various situations. lie was early
initiated into court intrigues, and even into many
political secrets, and found ojiportimities of
studying the human tyj'.e in numerous indi-
viduals and according to the varieties developed
by rank in life, education, age, and sex. . . .
Nothing has been preserved from his early writ-
ings. . . . The fact is very remarkal)le that from
llie lirst, or at least from a very early i)eriod,
Chaucer wrote in the English language — how-
ever natural this mav .seem to sueceedintr aires
in 'The Father of English Poetry.' The court
of Eihvard III. favored the language as well as
the litc'rature of France; a considerable nmnlKT
of French poets and 'menestrels' were in the
service and pay of the English king. Queen
Philippa, in particular, showing herself in this u
3
ENCJLANI), 1350-1400.
Chaucer.
ENOLAXD, 1360-1414.
tnic (lau^'htcr of lior nativf llainaiilt, formed
the (ciitrr of ik socifty cultivaliiii: tlic P'rcnch
liuii.Miaj.n' and poetry.' Slio hail in lur personal
wrvio- Ii'an Froissilrt. one of the iimst eminent
n-preseiitativesof that laiiLrnaire and poetry; like
lierself Ik' Ixlon.L'ed to one of the most northern
districts of the Fretieii spealiin;,' territory; he
liad made liiin^elf a ureaf name, as a prolific and
clever writer of erotic and allejjoric trilles, he-
fore he sketclied out in his famous chronicle the
motlev colored, vivid |)iciure of that eventful
uge. We alMj see in this ])eriod youni; Kn^rlish-
men of rank and educati(m trying their llij;ht on
the French rarnassiis. . . . To these An,<,'lo-
French pods tlicrc lieionired al.soa Kentisliman of
nolple family, named .John Cower. Thou.udi .some
tell years llie senior of Chaucer, he liad probably
met" him about this time. They were certainly
afterwards very intimately acquainted. Gower
. . . had re< civcd a very carefid education, and
loved to devote the time he could spare from the
niana.iiement of his states to study and poetry.
His Icarnini,' was in many respects irreater than
Cliiuicers. Me liad studied tla; Latin iioets .so
dili:;(ntly \\v.:\ he could ea.sily ex]iress him.self in
tluir lanirua:;!', and he wa.s eipially .nood at
writiiiLC Fn'iuh verses, which were able to jiass
muster, at least in England. . . . IJut Chaucer
did not let himself be led astray by examples
such as these. It is jtossiiile that bo would have
foimd writing in French no easy task, even if ho
had attemptid it. At any rate his bourgeois
origin, and the seriousness of his vocation as
|)oet, threw a determining weight into the scale
and secured his lidelity to the English language
with a commendable consistency." — li. Ten
JJrink, Ili'st. of KinjUxh Litcmtuvc, hk. 4, ch. 4
(r. 'i, ]it. 1). — "English was not taught in the
schools, but French only, until after the acces-
sion of Kichard II., or pnssilily the latter years
of Edward HI., and Latin was always studied
through the French. Up to this ])eriod, then, as
there were no standards of liteniry authority,
and iirobably no written collections of estab-
lished forms, or other granunatieal es.says, the
language had no lixedness or luiiformity, and
hardly deserved to Ik^ called a written speech.
. . . Fr(/ni this Babylonish confusion of speech,
the intluence nn<l example of Chaucer did more
to rescue hi.s native tongue than any other single
cause; and if we compare liis dialect with that
of any writer of an earlier date, we shall find
that in compass, flexibility, exi)rcssivcness, grace,
and all the higher qiudities of poetical diction,
he gave it at once the utmost perfection which
the materials at his hand v, ould permit of. The
English writers of the fourteenth century had an
advantage which was altogether peculiar to their
age and coimtry. At airi)revious periods, the
two languages liad co-existed, in a great legree
indeitendcntly of each other, with little tendency
to intermix; but in the earlii . part of that cea-
lury, they Ingan to coalesce, and this process
was going on with a r.ipidity that thwatened a
jiredominance of ti;e French' if not a total ex-
tin(tvin of the S.ixon element. . . . AVhen the
national spirit was aroused, and impelled to the
creation of a national literature, the poet or prose
writer, in selecting his diction, had almost tv-'>
whole vocabularies before him. That the svnlax
should 1h' English, national feelini; ilemanded;
but French was so faudliar and habitual to all
who were able to n-ad, that probably the scholar-
ship of the day would scarcely liavc been able tr>
determine, with respect to a large proportion of
the words in common use, from which of the
two great wells of speech they had proceeded.
Ilappily, a great arbiter arose ai the critical mo-
ment of severance of the two jieoples and dia-
lects, to preside over the division of the common
projierty, and to determine what share of the
contributions of ''mue should be permanently
aimexed to the ' ic inheritance of English-
men. Chaucer. iot introduce into the Eng-
lish language words which it had rejected asaliens
before, but out of those which had been already
received, ho invested tue better portion with the
rights of citizenship, and stamped them with
tlie mint-mark of Engli.sh coinage. In this way,
lie formed a vocabulary, which, with few ex-
ceptions, the taste and" opinion of succeeding
generations has ajiproved; and a literary diction
was thus established, which, in all the qualities
re(iuired for the ])oetic art, had at that time no
su])erior in the languages of modern Europe.
The soundness of Chaucer's judgment, the nicety
of his philological appreciation, and the delicacy
of his sense of adaptation to the actual wants of
the English people, are sutlicientlj' i)roved by
the fact that, of the Romance words f(mnd in his
writings, notnuich above one hundred have been
sulTered to become obsolete, while a nmch larger
number of Anglo-Saxon words employed by
him have passed altogether out of use. ... In
the three centuries which elapsed between the
Con(iue.-t and the noon-tide of Chaucer's life, a
large proportion of the Anglo-Saxon dialect of re-
ligion, of moral and intellectual discourse, and of
taste, had become utterly obsolete, and unknown.
The place of the lost words had been partly sup-
plied by the importation of Continental terms;
but the new words came without the organic
])ower of composition and derivation which be-
longed to those they had supplanted. Conse-
quently, they were incapable of those modifica-
tions of fonn and extensions of meainng which
the Anglo-Sa.xon roots cotdd so easily assume,
and which fitted them for the expression of the
new shades of thought and of sentiment born of
every hour in a mind and an age like those of
Chaucer." — G. P. Marsh, Origin and Hist, of the
En(j. I.dnr]., led. 9.
Also in : T. It. Lounsbury, Studiex in Chaucer.
—A. W. Ward, Chaucer.— W. Godwin, Life of
Geoffrey Cha ucer.
A. D. 1360-1414.— The Lollards.—" The Lol-
lards were the earliest 'Protestants' of England.
They were the followers of John Wyclif, but be-
fore his time the nickname of LoUanl had been
known on the continent. A little brotherhood of
pious pco]ile had sprung up in Holland, about
the year 1300, who lived in a half-monastii' fi^l 1
and devoted themselves to helping the pour i;i i ue
burial of their dead; and, from the low chants
they sang at the funerals — lollcn being the old
word for such singing — they were called Lol-
lards. Till- priests and friars hated them and
accused them of heresy, and a AValter Lollard,
probably one of them, was burnt in 1323 at Co-
logne as a heretic, and gradualh' the name became
a nickname for such people. So when AVyclif's
' simple jiriests ' were jireaching the new doctrines,
the name already familiar in Holland and Ger-
many, was given to them, and gradually became
the name for tha*; wiiolc movement of religious
reformation w hich grew up from the seed Wyclif
814
ENGLAND, 13C0-1414.
Wyclifff find the
LullanU.
ENGLAND, 1300-1414.
sowed." — B. ITcrfonl, SCori/oflidifjion in Eng.,ch.
16. — "A turning point arrivt'd in thf liisturyof
the reforming party at tlic ufcession (>f the Ikui.sc
of Lancaster. King Henry the i^'ourth w.is nut
only a devoted son of the C'iinrcji. hut lie owed
his'suecess in no slight measure to the assistance
of the Churchmen, and ahove all to thatof Arch-
Itishop Arundel. It was felt that the new dy-
nasty and the hierarchy stoud or f<'ll together.
A mi.xture of religious and political motives
led to the passing of the well-known statute
' l)e luerctico comhureiulo' in 1 tOl and thencefor-
ward Lollardj' was a cai)ital olfence." — li. L.
Poole, Wi/dijf'cdiid Moreiih'ntKfDr Ilifunii. ch. 8. —
"The abortive insurrection of the Lollards at the
conunenceinent of Henry V.'s reign, under the
leadership of Sir John Oldcastlc, had the effect
of adding to the ju-nal laws already in existence
against the sect." This gave to Lollanlya politital
character and made (hi' Lollar<ls enemies against
the State, as is evident from the king's [)roelama-
tion in which it was asserted "that the insurgents
intended to ' destroy him, his brothers and several
of the spiritual and temporal lords, to conliscate
the possessions of the Church, to secularize the
religious orders, to divide tiie re.ilm into confed-
erate districts, and to appoint Sir .lolm Old-
castle president of the conunonwealth.'" — T. P.
Tasweil-Langmead, Kinj. ('"hkI. lliM. {Ath al.),
ch. 11. — "The early life of WyclilTc is olxscure.
. . . He emerges into distinct notice in i;5(50,
ten j'eiirs subsequent to the i)assing of the lirst
Statute of l*rovisors, having then ac(piired a
great Oxford reputation as a lecturer in divinity.
. . . He was a man of most simide life; aus-
tere in appearance, with bare feet and russet
mantle. As a soldier of Christ, he saw in his
Great JIaster and his Apostles the patterns whom
he was bound to imitate. J5y the contagion of
example he gathered about him other men who
thought as he did; and gradually, under his cap-
taincy, these ' i)oor priests ' as they were called
— vowed to poverty because Christ was poor —
vowed to accept no benelice . . . spread out over
the country as an army of missionaries, to preach
the faith which they found in the Bible — to
I)reach, not of relics and of indidgences, but of
repentance and of the graco of God. They car-
ried with them copies of the Bible which Wyclilfe
had translated, . . . and they refused to reccgnize
the authority of the bishops, or their right to
silence them. If this had been all, and jierhaps
if Edward III. had been succeeded by a prince
less miserably incapable than his grandson Ilich-
ard, Wyclilfc might have made good his ground ;
the movement of the parliament against the pope
niigiit have united in a common stream with the
spiritual move against the church at home, anil
the Reformation liave been antedated by a cen-
tury. He was sununoned to answer for him.self
before the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1377.
He appt'ared in court supported ,>y the presence
of .John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the eldest
of Edward's surviving sons, and the authorities
were luiable to strike him behind so powerful a
shield. But the 'poor ]}riests' h;id other doc-
trines. . . . His [Wycliffe's] theory of property,
and his study of the character of Christ, had led
him to the near contincs of Anabaptism." The
rebellion of Wat Tyler, which occurred in 13H1,
cast odium upon all such opinions. " So long as
AVyclitfe lived, his own lofty character was a
guuniutee for the coniluct of his immediate dis-
ciples; and although liis favour had far declined,
a party in the state remained attached to him,
with sutHcient intluenee to prevent the adoption
of extreme measures against the ' jioor priests.'
. . . They were left unmolested for the next
tw( nty j'cars. . . . On the settlement of the coun-
trv ;uider Henry IV. they fell tuider the general
ban which struck down ail jiarties who had shared
in the late disturbances." — .J. A. Fronde, JIi.st.
of Eiifi., rh. 6. — " Wycliffe's translation of the
Bible itself created a new era, and gave birth to
what may be .said never to have existed till then
— a poi)ular theology. . . . It is dillicult in our
day to imagine the impression sucii a I)ook must
have produced in an age which had scarcely any-
thing in the way of pojtular literature, and which
hi'd been accustomed to regard the Scripttires as
the special property of the learned. It was wel-
comed with an enthusiasm which could not be
restrained, and read with avidity both by jiriests
and laymen. . . . The homely wisdom, blended
\s'it!i eternal truth, which has long since enriched
our vernacular speech with a multitude of jjtov-
erbs, could not thenceforth be restrained in its
circulation by mere pious awe or time-honoured
prejinlice. Divinity was discussed in ale-houses.
Popular preachers made war upon old iirejudiccs,
and did nuich to shock that sense of reverence
which belonged to an earlier generation. A new
school had arisen with a theology of its own, warn-
ing the peoi)le against the delusive preaching of
the friars, and asserting loudly its own claims to
be true and evangelical, on the ground that it
possessed the gosjjcl in the Englisli tongue. Ap-
pealing to such an authority in their favour, the
eloquence of the new teachers made a marvellous
impression. Their followers increased with ex-
traordinary rapidity. By the estimate of an op-
ponent they soon tiumbered half the population,
and you could hardly see two persons in the street
but one of them was a Wyclillite. . . . They
were supported by the jiowerf ul intluenee of John
of Gaunt, who shielded not only AVyclitTe him-
self, but even the most violent of the fanatics.
And, certainly, whatever nught have been Wy-
cliffe's own view, doctrines were promulgated by
his reputed followers that were distinctly sub-
versive of authority. John Ball fomented the in-
surrection of Wat Tyler, by preaching the natural
equality of men. . . . But the popularity of Lol-
larlly was short-lived. The extravagance to
which ^t led soon alienated the sympathies of the
people, and the sci^t fell off in numbers almost as
rapidly as it had risen." — J. Gairdner, Studies in
Hiif/. J IiKt.. 1-2. — " Wydif . . . was not without
innnerous followers, and the Lollardism which
sprang out of his teaching was a living force in
England for some time to come. But it was weak
through its connection with subversive social doc-
trines. He hii..self stood aloof from siu-h doc-
tiines, but he coidd not prevent his followers
from mingling in the social fray. It was perhaps
their merit that tiiey did so. The established con-
stitutional order was but another name for op-
])ression and wrong to the lower cla-sses. But as
yet the lower classes were not sulHciently ad-
vanced in niond and political training to make it
safe to entrust them with the task of righting
their own wrongs as they would have atti'nipteil
to right them if they had gained the mastery. It
had nevertheless become impossible to leave the
peasants to be ouvc more goaded by suffering into
rebellion. The attempt, if ithadbeen made, to
81i
ENGLAXn, i:5(M)-ini
Uivhiinl II ft nit
Wilt Tyler
ENGLAND, 1381.
cnforre n1)Sf)lnl<> liilmur rents was liuilly al)!iii-
(loiii il, siikI i;racliially diirintr tlic iicxi (cnliiry tlii'
mass of till- vill-iii^ passed iiiti) tlie juisilidii of
freemen. For the inonu'iil. iinliles and jjrelates,
landowners an<l eler;:y, lian<leil ii;eniselves to-
gether to fr)rni on( irreat parly of resistance. 'J'lie
cliureli came to lie lint an outwork of tlie l)aron-
Hire." — s. H. (Jardineraiid.I. iJ. Midlinuer, Iiiti",l.
til the Stnili/of Ki,f/. Jliyt., /it. J, r/i. T), mrt. 14-1. I.
Also in: J.. Serireant. ./"///) Wiiflif- — <•■Lecli-
ler, .A'//// Wiflif iiiul hi" l-'iiiiUfh /'/•((•'//*(/••■(.— See,
also, IJoiiKMrv; A. D. Ml»."i-1 11"). and IJcrniNKs.
A. D. 1377.— Accession of King Richard II.
A. D. 1377-1399.— The character and reign
of Richard II.--' IJiiliard II. was a far siii)erioi-
man to many of the weaker kinirs of Entdand ;
Ixii lieinj: self-willed and unwarlike, lie was un-
(itt*d for the work whi(li the times reiiuired.
Vet, on II closer inspection than the traditional
view of the reijrn has j;enerally eneonraired, we
cannot bnt oliservc that tlie liner inialities which
came ont in certain eri.>e.s of his iei;;ii appear
to have freiinenlly inliiuiiced his conduct: we
know that he was not an inuiiond man, that he
was an excellent husliand to an excellent wife,
and that he Inid devotecl friends, willinir to lay
tjown their lives for him when there was nothing
whatever left for them to ^'ain, . . . IJicIiard,
who had lieen brought up in the i)urple (juite as
nuiih as Edward 11.. was Ivcjit und'T restraint
by his uncles, and not being jinlieiously guided
ill the arts of government, fell, like his proto-
type, into tlie hand.< of favourites. Ills brilliant
behaviour in the insurrection of V^'t*^\ indicated
nuich more than mere jiossession of the Plantage-
net courage anil presence of mind. He showed
a real .symiiathy with the villeins who had un-
deiiiabli' grievances. . , , His instincts were un-
doubtedly for freedom and fortriveiiess, and there
is no proof, nor even )irotiabiliiy, that he in-
tended to Use the villeins against his enemies.
His early and happy marriage with Anno of
I^ohcTnia ought, one might think, to have siived
him from the vice of favouritism; but lie was at
least more fortunate than Edward ii. in not being
cast underthe spell of aCiaveston. ^Vhen weeon-
sider the elTect <d' such u galling government as
that of his tinele (Jloucester, and liiscousin Derby,
afterwards Henry I\'.. who seems to have been
jiushing Gloucester on from the tirst, we can
hardly be surprised that he should reipiire .some
friend to lean upon. The ri'ign is, in short, from
one. and ])erhai)s the truest, ))oint of view, a long
duel between tlie son of the Hlack Prince and the
son of .lohnof (Jaunt. Oneor other of them nuist
inevitably perish. A handsome and cultivated
ytmth. who showed himself at fifteen every inch
a king, who was married at si.xteen, and led his
own army to Scotland at eighteen recjuired n
dilVerent treatment from that which he received.
He was u man, and .should have been dealt with
as such. His laxish and reprehensible grants to
Ills favourites were made the excuse for Glou-
cester's viohnt interference in 1;}S6, but there is
goiHl ground for believing that the movement
was encouraged by the anti-Wiclillite party,
which had taken alarm at th.' symi)athy with the
Ueformers shown at this time by Hichurd and
Anne.' — M. Hurrows, toiniiHutarics on the Jlin-
toi'.V "f Kiit/ltiiiil, Ilk: 2, rh. 5.
Also in: J. R. Green, Hint, of the Enqlish
Pr,>i<l,; hk: 4, rli. 4 (r. 1).— C. H. Pearson, /uiijlixl,
Jlint. in the IWi i'eut'y, rh. 10-12.
81
A. D. 1381.— 'Wat Tyler's Rebellion.— • In
June i:!^! there broke out in England the for
midable insurreition known as Wat 'I'yler's He-
bellion. The movement seems to have begun
among the bondmen of Es.se.x and of Kent; but
it Spread at once to the counties of Su.sse.x,
llertford, Cambridge, Suffolk and Norfolk
The )iea.santry, armed with bludgeons and rusty
hW( rds, first Occupied the loads by which i)ii-
griins went to Canterbury, and made every one
swear that he would be true to king Hichard
and not atu'ci.t a king named .John. This, of
course, was aimed at the government of John of
(Jaunt |Duke of Lancaster], ... to whom the
))eo[)le attributed every grievance they had to
complain of. The iirincipal, or at least the im-
mediate cause of offence arose out of a poll-tax
which had been voted in the preceding year." —
J. i.i;\'m\uvr, Jloii.-<.s <if Jjiiiicitnttr (I lid Ynrk.ch. 2.
— The leaders of the insurgents were A\'at the
Tyler, who had been a soldier, .lohn Hall, a priest
and jireacher of democratic and .socialistic doc-
Irines, and (-ne known as Jack Straw. They made
their way to London, "It ought to have been
easy to kee]) them out of the city, as the only
approach to it was by London IJridge, and the
mayor and < iiief citi/cns iiroposed to defend it.
Ibit the f,oiiiloners generally, and even three of
the aldermen, were well inclined to the rebels,
and declared that lliey would not let the gates bo
shut against tlii'ir friends and neighbours, and
would kill the mayor himself if he attempted to
do it. So on the evening of Wednesday, June
1:3, the insiirgi iits be.gan to stream in across the
bridge, and n''Xi morning inarched their whole
body acro.ss the river, and jiroceeded at once to
the Savoy, the sjil-ndid i)a]ac;; of the Duke of
Lancaster. Proclamation was made that any
one found stealing the smallest article would be
belieade<l; and the jilace was then wrecked and
burned with all the formalities of a solemn act
of justiie. (.told and silver plate was shattcix'd
with battle-axes and thrown into the Thames;
rings and smaller jewels were brayed in mortars;
silk and embroidered dresses were trampled un-
der feet and torn u]>. Then the Temple was
liurned with all its muniments. The poet (iower
was among the lawyers who had to save their
lives by flight, and he pas.se(l several nights in
'.\w. woods of Essex, covered with grass and
leaves and living on acorns. Then the great
house of the IIosi)itallers at Clerkenwell was de-
stroyed, taking seven days to burn." The young
king (Hichard II.) and his court and council had
taken refuge in the Tower. The iir urgents now
threatened to .storm their .stronghoUl if the king
did not come out and speak to them. The king
consented and ai>pointed a rendezvous at ]\Iile
End. He kejit the aiipointment and nuit his
turbulent subjects with .so much courage and
tact anil so many iiromises, that he persuaded a
great number 10 disperse to their homes. But
while this jiacilic interview took place, "Wat
Tyler, John Ball, and some 400 of their followers
burst into the Tower, determined to find the
archbishoj) of Canterbury and the Lord Treas-
urer, Sir Uobert ([v Hales, who were the most
obnoxious ministers. ' ' So great was the generul
consternation that the soldiers dared not raise a
hand while thesi' rullians searched the different
rooms, not simring even the king's bedroom,
running sjiears into the beds, asked the king's
mother to kiss them, and played insoleut jokes
6
ENGLAND, 1381.
OppremiOin nf Hit
Penmintry.
ENGLAND, i;W«-1471.
on tlic chief olliccrs. I'liliiipiiily tlicv were not
lonj^ in linilinj^ the iir(!ili'''li'i!', wlio liad siiid
mass in tiic cimpd, iiml \v;i.-i kntcliiii!; at llic altar
in t'XiK'clatioii of lluir ai)iiroacli." The Lord
Treasurer was also found, and tiotii lie and tin;
arehljislio|) wen; summarily lidieaded l)y Ilie
mob. " Murder now iHcamc the ord( r of the
(lay, and foreijrners were anionu: tlu; chief vic-
tiii'is; thirteen Fleniinirs were draui^ed out of
one church and i)eheaded, seventeen out of
another, and altoijelhcr it is said \W) jM'ri^hed.
Many private enmities were reveiii^ed by tlio
London ral)l)le on this day." On the next da}-,
.June lo, the l<ing, with iin arnietl escort, went to
the camp of the ins'.irirents, at Smithlield, and
opened nei^otiations with Tyler, offering suc-
cessively tiiree forms of a new charter of jiopu-
lar rights and liberties, all of whidi were re-
jected. Finally, Tyler was invited to a jjcrsonal
conference, anil there, in the midst of tlie liing's
party, on some provocation or pretendeil provo-
cation in his words or bearing, the popular
leader was struck from his horse and killed.
King Richard Immediately rode out before the
ranks of the rebels, while tliey were still dazed
by the suddeimess and audacity of the treacher-
ous blow, crying " I will be your leader; follow
me." The thoughtless mob followed and soon
found itself surrounded by bodies of troops
whose courage had revived. The king now
commanded tlu; trembling peasants "to fall on
their knees, cut the strings of their bows, and
leave the city and its neiglibourhood, under pain
of death, i)efor(i nightfall. This command was
instantly obeyed." Meantime and afterwards
there were many lesser risings in various parts
of the country, all of whicli were suppressed,
with such rigorous prosecutions in the courts
that 1, ")()() persons are said to have suffered
judicially. — C. IL Pearson, Kii'j. llixt. in the
Fourteenth Century, ch. 10.— The Wat Tyler in-
surrection proved disastrous in its effect on the
work of Church reform which Wyclif was then
pursuing. "Not only was the jxiwer of the
Lancastrian party, on which Wyclif had re-
lied, for tlie moment aimihilated, but the <(Uarrel
between tlie Haronage and Church, on which his
action had hitherto been grounded, w-as hushed
in the presence of a common danger. .Aiiich of
the odium of tlu^ outl)re;dv, too, fell on the Re-
former lohn Rail, who hail figured in the
front rank of the revolt, was claimed as one of
hisadheri'uts. . . . AVhatever belief such charges
migiit gain, it is certain that from this moment
all plans for the reorganization of the Church
were confounded in the general odium which at-
tached to the projects of the socialist peasant
leaders." — J. R. Green, Sh'irt llixt. nf the En;/.
Peojile, eh. ."», s(et. ',]. — " When Rarlianient as-
sembled it jiroved itself as hostile as the crown
to the conceding any of the demands of the
people; both were faithful to all the records of
history in similar cases; they would have belied
all experience if, being victorious, they hail con-
sented to tlie least concession to the vantiuished.
The upper cla.sses repudiated the recognition of
the rights of the po<n' to a degree, which in our
time would be considered sheer insanity. The
king had annulled, by proclamation to the slier-
ill's, the charters of manumission which he had
grat ted to the insurgents, and this revocation
was warmly approved by ixith Lords and Com-
luous, who, not satisfied with saying that such
enfranchisement could not be made withotit their
consent, added, that they would iievi r give iliat
consent, even to «ave themselves from perisldng
altogether in one day. There was. it is true, a
vague rumour ai)out the pidpriety and wisdom
of abolisidng villanage; iiut the notion was
scouted, and the owners <if serfs showed that
they neither doubted tiie rigiit by wliich they
held their fellow-creatures in a state of slavery,
nor would hesitate to increase the severity of the
laws affecting them. They now passed a law
by whiih "all riots and rumours, and other such
things were turned into high treason '; this law
was most vaguely I'xpressed. and would proi)!i-
bly involve tliose who made it in inextricable
diiliculties. It was self-appari'iit, tliat this I'ar-
liament acted under the im])ulses of ]Kinic, and
of revenge for recent injuries. ... It might be
said that the citizens of tlie municipalities wrote
their charter'-, of enfranchisement with flu! very
blood of their lonls and bislio])s; yet, during
the worst days of ojipression, the "serfs of tlu;
cities had never suffered the cruel excesses of
tyranny endured by the country iieoph; till the
middle of the fifteenth century. And, neverthe-
less, the long struggles of the townsliips, despite
the bloodshed and cruelties of the citizens, are
ever considered and narrated as glorious revolu-
tions, wliilst tlie brief efforts of the jicasants for
vengeance, which were drowned in their own
blood, have remained as a stigma flung in the
face of the country i)opulations whenever they
utter a word claiming some amelioration in their
condition. Wlu'nie the injustice? The bour-
geoisie was victorious and successful. The
rural poinilatious were vaiuiuished and trami)leil
upon. The bourgeoisie, therefore, has had its
poets, historians, and flatterers, whilst the poor
peasant, rude, untutored, and ignorant, never
had a lyre nor a voice to bewail his lamentable
.sorrows and sulTerings." — Prof. De Verieour,
Wot Tii'er (lli'ijid Ifitit. S>je., TritnMietion', n. s.,
V. 2).
Ai.so IX: Cf. Lechlcr, John Wielif, eh. 9, seet.
3. — C. Knight, I'opnliir Hist. <>f Enejlaml, r. 2,
eh. 1.
A. D. 1383.— The Bishop of Norwich's Cru-
sade in Flanders. S( e Fi,am)i:us: .V. I). i:;s:!.
A. D. 1388. — The Merciless or Wonderful
Parliament. See Paulia.ment, Tiik Wondkii-
FlI,.
A. D. 1399. — Accession of King Henry IV.
A. D. 1399-1471. — House of Lancaster. —
This name is given in English history to the
family which became royal in the person of
Henry of Rolingliroke, Duke of Lancaster, who
deposed his eoiisin, Rieliard IL, or forced him to
abdicate tli(! throne, and who was crowned king
(Henry iV.), Oct. 11, i;m,witli what seemed to be
till! consent of the nation. He not only claimed
to be the next in succession to Richard, but he put
forward a claim of des<'eiit tlirough his niotlier,
more direct than Richard's had been, from Henry
III. " In jioint of fact Henry was not the ne.xt
in succession. His father, John of (iaunt [or
.lohn of Ghent, in which city lie was born], was
the fourth son of Edward HI., and there were
descendantsof that king's third son, Lionel Duke
of Clarence, living. ... At one time Richard
himself had designated as his successor the noble-
man who ri'ally stood next to him in the line of
descent. This was Roger Mortimer, Earl of
>'arch, the same who was killed by the rebels in
817
KNfJLANI). i:«»0-1471.
Ihilnpur
and Henry V.
ENGLAND, 1431-1453.
Inldiiil. Tliis Hnjicr hail left n son Edmund to
inlifiit 1ms title, liiil Kdniund was n mere child,
sind the inconvinifncc of anoihcr niiiiorily could
not have 1>< <ii endured."— .1. (Jairdner. Jloiimii of
Jjiiirast.r iii.il )'<>,■/.; r/i. 'J.— As tor Henry's pre-
tensions Ihronjrli his mother, thev were founded
upon what .Mr, (Jairdner calls an "idle story,"
that "the eldest son of Henry III, was not kinj;
Edward, lint his hrother Kcjinund Crouchback,
Earl of Lancaster, who w.is commonly reputetl
the second son; and that this Edmund had been
j)ur|M>sely set aside on a(<ount of his personal
deformity. The j>lain fact of the matter was
that Eilmund Crouchhack was six years youni^er
than his hrother Kdward I, ; and that his sur-
name Crouclitiack had not the smallest nd'erenee
to personal liefornnty, hut only implied that he
wore the cross upon his hack as a crusader," .Mr.
ANylie (ilixt. "f h'i>;/. multr J/ti<ri/ IV., r. 1, rfi. 1)
n presents that this latter claim was p\it forward
under the advice of the leadin,i; jurists of the
time, to ;:ive the iii)]iearancc of a leiritimate suc-
C'ession; whereas Henry took his leal title from
the will and as,sent of the nation. Henry IV. was
succi'cded hy his vi;rorous son, Henry \'. ami he
in turn by ;< feeble ,son. Henry VI,. dnrini: whose
rei;:n Entrland was torn by intriirues and f^>c-
tions, endinjr in the lamentable civil wars known
as the " Wars of the Uoses," the deposition of
Henry VI. and the aci|uisiiion of the throne by
the " House of York," in the persons of Edward
1\'. iind Uidianl III. It was a branch of the
House of L.'uicaster that reappeared, after the
death of Kiihard HI, in the royal family better
known as the 'I'udors.
A. D. 1400-1436.— Relations with Scotland.
See S((»T1..\M): .\. I), 14(M)-U;iti.
A. D. 1402-1413.— Owen Glendower's Rebel-
lion in Wales. See Walks: A. I). M0^'-14ia
A. D. i403.~-Hotspurs Rebellion. — The earl
of .Norihunilierlanil and his son. Henr\' I'ercy,
i'alled " Hotsjiur," had jierformed frreat services
for Henry IV., in establishiuir and maintaining
him ujionthe throne. "At the outset of his reign
their opposition would have been fatal to him;
their adhesion ensured his victory. He had re-
warded them with territory and high ollices of
trust, and they had by faithful services ever
since increased their claims to gratitude and con-
siileration, . . , IJoth father and son were high-
Kjiiriled, passionate, suspi<ious men, who enter-
tained an e.xalled sense of their ow n services and
could not endure the shadow of a slight. Up to
this time [early in 14(i:?] not a doid)t had been
cast on their lidelity. NorthunduTland was still
the king's chief agent in Parliament, his most
valueil eonnnander in the Held, his Mattathias.
It has been th()\ight that I lots))ur's grudire against
till' king began with the notion that the releasi>
of his brother-in-law, Ldnnnid .Mortimer [taken
jirisoner, the year before, by the Wel.shj, had
l)een neglected by the king, or was caused by
Henry's claim to deal with the jtri.soners taken
at HomiMon; the (hfenders of the IVrcies al-
leged that they had been deceived by Henry in
the first instance, and only needed "to be per-
suaded that Kichard lived in order to desiTt the
king. It is more probatile that thev suspected
Henry's friendship, and were I'Xaspefati'd bv his
i-ompidsory ecimomies. . . , Yet Henry .seems
to have conceived no suspicion, . . . Northum-
berland and Hotspur were writinir for increased
forces [for the war with Scotland]. . . . On the
lOth of July Henry had reached Northampton-
shire on his way iiorthwards; on the 17th he
heard that llotsjjur with his iincle the earl of
Worcester were in arms in Shropshire. They
raised nf» cry of jirivatc wrongs, but proclaimed
themselves the vindicators of national right: their
object was to correct the evils of the adminis-
tration, to enforce the emidoyment of wise coun-
sellors, and the jirojur expenditure of public
mcmey. . . . The report ran like wildfire tlirough
the west that Hichard was alive, and at Chester.
Hotspur's army m.se to 14, (KM) men, and not sus-
])ecting the strength and i)r(miptne.ss of the king,
lie sat down with his uncle and his i)ri.souer, the
earl of Douglas, before Shrewsbury. Henry
showed himself e(Hnd to the need. From Burton-
on-Trent, where on July 17 he summoned the
forces (jf the shires to join him, he inarched into
Shr()])shire, and olTered to parley with the in-
surgents. The earl of Worcester went between
the camps, but Jie was either an impolitic or a
treacherous envoy, and the negotiations ended in
mutual exasperation. On the 21.st the battle of
Shrewsbury was fought: Hotspur was slain;
Worcester' was taken and beheaded two days
after. The old earl, who may or may not have
been cognizant of hi.-, son's intentions from tiie
first, was now marcbing to his succour. The
earl of Westmoreland, his brother-in-law, met
him and drove him back to Warkwortb. But all
danger was over. On the 11th of August be
met the king at York, and subnutted to him."
— W. Stubbs, Cannt. JIM. of Eikj., ch. 18, sect.
632.
Also in: J. H. "Wylle, IIiKt. of Eng. tinder
Ihntji IV., T. 1, ch. 25. — W. Shakespeare, King
Ileiivji IV., jit. 1.
A. D. 1413. — Accession of King Henry V.
A. D. 1413-1422. — Parliamentary gains un-
der Henry 'V. — "What the sword had won the
sword should keep, said Henry V. on his acces-
sion; but what was meant by the saying has its
conuuent in the fact that, in the year w hicli wit-
nessed his victory at Agincourt, he yielded to the
House of Commons the most liberal measure of
legislation which until then it had obtained.
Tlie dazzling splendour of Ins conquests in
France had for the time cast into the shade every
doubt or (piestion of his title, but the very ex-
tent of those gains ui)on the French soil estab-
lished more decisively the worse than uselessness
of such acijuisiticms to the English throne. The
distinction of Henry's reign in constitutional his-
tory will always be, that from it dates that power,
indispensable to a free and limited monarchy,
called Privilege of Parliament; the shield and
buckler inider which all the battles of liberty
and good government were fought in the after
time. Not only were its leading safeguards now
obtained, ])ut at once so lirmly established, that
against the shock of incessant resistance in later
years they stood perfectly luunoved. Of the
awful right of imi)eachmeiit, too, the .same is to
be said. It was won in the same reign, and was
never afterwards lost." — J. Forster, Ifixt. and
Ih'oi/. Kmii//.'*. r. 1 , ;). 207,
A, D. 1415-1422.— Conquests of Henry 'V. in
France. See Fij.vxce: A". D. 1415; and 1417-
1422,
A. D. 1422.— Accession of King Henry 'VI.
A. D. 1431-1453.— Loss of English conquests
and possessions in France. See Fuanck : A. D.
1431-145;}, and AiiuiTAiNE: A. D. 1360-1453.
818
ENGLAND. 1450.
Effect* of
W'ata in France.
ENGLAND. UHri.
A. D. 1450.— Cade's Rebellion.— A formidu-
blc rc'liellioii Ih-oUimuii in Kent, iiiiiJiT tiic leader-
.siiip of oiK'JackCade. A. 1). ll.">0. Overtaxation,
the bad inaiiairemciit of tlRM'ouneil, tiie extortion
of the siil»ordinate ollicers, tl;(; injustice of tiie
king's bench, tiie aljuse of the ri;:lit of jiiirvey-
jiHce, tiio "tMKiuestes" and amercements, and tlie
illegitimate control of elections were the chief
causes of llu! rising of 14.")(>. "'I"he rising was
mainly political, only one comiilainl was econom-
ical, not iV single one was religious. AVe lind
not a single demand for iww legislation. . . .
Tlie movement was by no means of a di.stiuctly
jjlebeian ordisordcrly character, but was a general
and organized rising of the jjeoph; at large. It
was a political upheaval. We tind no trace of
.socialism or of democracy. . . . Tlieconuuonsin
1450 arose against Lancaster and in favor of York.
Their rising was the lirst great struggle in the
Wars of the Hoses." — Krielm, Rmii'j in 14r»0,
Ch. IV., VIL — Cade and his rebels took pos-
session of London; but they were beaten in a
battle and forced to quit the city. Cade an<l some
followers continued to be turbulent and so<jn
afterwards he was killed. — J. (jiairdner, Iluuncs of
Lancaster and York, ch. 7, »cct. 0.
Also in: C M. Vonge, Viuiiios from Kikj. Iliitt.,
8(Z licricK, c. 7.
A. D. 1455. — Demoralized state of the nation.
— Effects of the wars in France. — " Tiie wliole
pit'turc of the times is very depressing on the
moral if not on the material side. There are few
more i)itiful episodes in history than the whole
tale of the reign of Henry VI., the most unsellish
and well-intentioned king that ever sat upon the
English throne — a man of whom not even his
enemies and oppressors could lind an evil word
to say; the troubles came, as they confes.sed, ' all
because of his i'al.se lords, and never of him. ' We
feel that there must have been something wrong
with the heart of a nation that could see unmoved
the meek i>nd holy king torn from wife and child,
sent to wander in disguise up and down the king-
dom for which he had done his poor best, and
finally doomed to pine for live years a prisoner
in the fortress where he had so long held his royal
Court. Nor is our lirst impression concerning
the demoralisation of England wrong. Every
line that \\v read bears home to us more and more
the fact that the nation had lailen on evil times.
First and foremost among the causes of its moral
deterioration was the wretched French War. a
war begun in the pure spirit of greeil and ambi-
tion, — there was not even the jjoor excuse that
had existed in the time of Edward III. — carried
on by the aid of honles of debauched foreign
mercenaries . . . and persisted in long after it
had become hopeless, partly from niisplace<l na-
tional pride, partly because of the personal in-
terests of the ruling classes. Thirty-live years
of a war that was as unjust as it was unfortunate
had both soured and demoralised the nation. . . .
When the linal catastrophe came and the fights
of Formigny [orFourmigny] andC'hatillon [Cas-
tillon] ended the chapier of our disasters, the
nation l)egan to cast about for a scapegoat on
whom to lay the burden of its failures. . . . At
lirst the unfortunate Sulfolk and Somerset had
the responsibility laid upon them. A little later
tlje outcry became more bold and fixed upon the
Lancastrian dynastj' itself as being to J)lame not
only for disiister abroad, but for want of govern-
ance at home. If King Henry had understood
the charge, and pos.ses."5<'d the wit to answer it. ho
might fairly have replied that his sulijects must
lit Jie burden upon their own backs, not upon
his. The war had been weakly conducted, it was
true; but weakly because the men and money for
it were grudged. . . . At home, the bulwarks of
social order seenie<l crumi)ling away. Private
wars, riot, open highway robbery, nuirdcr, abduc-
tion, armed resistance to the law, prevailed on a
scide that had been imknown since the troublous
tiniesof Edward 11. — we might almost say since
the evil days of Stephen. Hut it was not the
Crown alone that should have been blamed for
the state of the realm. The nation had cho.sen to
impose over-stringentconstitutional checks on the
kingly power before it was ripe for self-govern-
ment, and the Lancastrian house sat on the throne
because it had agreed to submit to those checks.
If the result of the experiment was disastrous,
both i)arties to the contract had to bear their share
of the resi)onsibility. Hut a nation seldom allows
that it has bi'cn wrong; a!id Henry of Windsor
had to serv(! as a scapegoat for all the mis-
fortunes of the realm, because Henry of Holing-
broke had conunitted his descendants to the
unha])py compact Want of a strong central
government was undoubtedly the complaint under
which England was labouring in the middh^ of
the loth ci'ntury, and all the grievances against
which outcry was made were but symptoms of
one latent disease. . . . All these public troubles
would have been of compiiratively small impor-
tance if the heart of the nation had been sr.(uul.
The phenomenon which makes the time so de-
liressing is the terrible decay in private morals
since the previous century. . . . There is no class
or caste in England which comes well orit of the
serutin}'. The Church, which had served as the
conscience of the nation in better times, had be-
come dead to spiritual things. It no longer pro-
duced either men of saintly life orlearneil theolo-
gians or patriotic statesmen. . . . The baronage
of England had often been unruly, but it had
never before developed the two vices w liich ilis-
tinguished it in the times of the Two Hoses — a
taste for indiscriminate bloodshed and a turn for
IKjlitical a])0stacy. . . . Twenty years spent in
contact with French factions, and in command
of the godless mercenaries who formed the bulk
of the English armies, had taught our nobles
lessons of cruelty and faithlessness such as they
had not before imbibed. . . . The knights and
S(iuires showed on a smaller scale all the vices of
the nobility. Instead of holding together and
maintaining a united loyalty to the Crown, they
bound themselves by solenui .sealed bondsand the
reception of ' liveries' each to the baron whom
he preferred. This fatal system, by which the
smaller landholder agreed on behalf of him.self
and his tenants to follow his greater neighbour
in peace and war. had ruined tlie military .system
of England, ami was (juite as dangerous as the
ancient feudalism. . . . If the gjntrj' constituted
themselves the voluntary followers of the baron-
age, and aided their employers to keep England
unhappy, the class of citizens and burgesses took
a very (lilTerent line of conduct. If not actively
mischievous, they were solidly inert. They re-
fused to entangle themselves in politics at all.
The}' submitteil impassively to each ruler in turn,
when Ihey had ascertainedthat their own persons
and property were not endangeri-d by so doing.
A town, it has been remarked, seldom or never
819
ENGLAND. 1155.
U'dM <>/ Ihe lio»ea.
ENOLAM), 145.5-1471.
rUmmI ft Kicir<' <luriiiir the WafH f)f tin' IJo-^is. f(ir
iiDlovvii I'vcr rcfii^nl todpcii its irutrs to any roiii-
iiiaiiilrr with iiii ;iilci|ii:il(' fdrcc wlio u>ikcil for
nitniiKre. " — C. \V ((man, \\\inrick the Kinij-
iiiitki r. I"!'. 1.
A. D. 1455-1471.— The Wars of the Roses.
— IStifiiiiiiiij.' with a l)altli' fiJiiL'ht at .St. .MliaiLs
oil lii( i'M of May. 1 155. |;iil;1iiii<1 was ki'ifl in a
)iili.il>lf Htatc of civil war. witli sliort intervals of
Inmlili'il pcacf, durinjr thirty years. The iiii-
iiir'liatc cause of troiil)le was in the fcelilencss of
Kiiiir llcniy \'l.. who siicceeih'd to ihe throiu;
whili' an iufaiii. and whose mind, never stroii.!.',
^a\c way under the trials of his jiositiini wiieii
hecaiiieto inanlioixj. 'I'iie (imlrnl of tiie liov-
crimieiil, thus weakly coininandcd, i)ecaine a siili-
jecl of strife hetweeii successive factions. The
iiiial leaders iti such contests were (^iH'cii .Mar,u''a
ret of Anjoii, Iheenenretic consort of the hel[)-
less kini; (willi the kin;^ himself sometimes in a
conilition of mind to cooperate with her), on one
side, and, on Ihe other siiie, the I)iikeof York,
who traced his lincaiie to Kdward 111., and wlio
had stroll;; claims to the throne if Henry should
leave no heir. The l)attle at M. Albans w as a vic-
tory for the Yorkists and placed them in power
for the next two years, thi' Hiikeof York lieiiig
named I'roteetor. In 14.")(l the king recovered .so
far as to resume the reigns of government, and
ill II.")!) there was a new rupture hetween thi'
factions. The (pieen's adherents were Ijeatcii in
the hattle of Mloicheath, Sept. 'i'M of that year;
but defeciions in the raidis of tlie Yorkists soon
obliged the latter to disperse and their leaders,
York, Warwick and Salisbury, lied to Ireland
and to Calais. In.Iuiie, Utid. the earls of War-
wick, Salisi)ury ;ind .March (the latter beiiii; the
eldest son of tiie Duke of York) returned to Hng-
Imid and gathered an army six'cdily, the city of
London opening its gates to them. The king'.s
forces weri! deteated" at Xorthainpton (Jlily !•>)
and the king taken pri.soner. A parliament" was
Hummoned and a.ssembled in ()ctoI)er. Then the
Duke of York came over from Ireland, took pos-
se.s.sionof tlie royal pahice and laiil before parlia-
ment a solemn claim to th(( crown. After much
discussion a comi)romise was agreed ui)on. under
which Henry VI. should rei<j;n undisturbed dur-
ing his life and the Duke of York should be his
undisi)uted succes.sor. This was embodied in an
act of parliament and received tlie assent of the
king; but (jucen .Margaret wlio had retired into
the north, refu.s<'d to surrender the rights of her
inf-'.nt .son, and a strong jKirty su.stained her.
The Duke of York attacked the.se Lancastrian
forces rashly, at Wakelield, \)w, ;](», noo, ;i,ul
was slain on the lield of a disjistrous defciit. The
(jueens army, then, marching towards London,
defeated the Earl of Warwick at St. Albans, Feb!
17, 1161 (the .second batUe of the war at that
plaeeX and recovered po.ssession of the ])er.son of
the king. Hut Edward. Earl of March (now l»e-
ccmie Duke of York, by the death of his f;'tlier>,
who had just routed a I^metLstrian force at Mor-
timer's Cross, ill Wales, joined his forces with
tho.se of Warwick and succeeded in oecupviu"-
London, which steadily favored his cause. CalL
ingtogetlier a council of lords, Edward i)ersuaded
them to declare King Ilenrv deposed, on the
ground that he had broken the aijreement made
with th(> late Duke of York. The next step was
to elect E<lward king, und he assumed the royal
title aiid state at ouce. The new king lost no
time in inarching nortliwanls against the army
of the deposed sovereign, which lay near York.
Ontlie'J'th of .'^larcli the advanced division of
Ihe Lancastrians was defeated at Ferrybridge,
and, two days later, their main iiody was alinoHt
destroyed in the fearful battle of Towtoii, — Raid
to have been the bloodiest encounter that ever
took place on English soil. King Henry took
refuge in .Scotland ami (^ueen .Miirgaret repaired
to France. In Itfil Henry reapixarcd in tlio
north with a body of Scots and refugees and
there were risings in his favor in Norlliumi)er-
laiid, which the Yorkists crushed in the succes-
sive battles of Iledijeley .Moor and He.xham.
The Yorkist king (Edward IV.) now reigned
without much disturbance until 1 17(t, when ho
(luarreled with the powerful Earl of Warwick —
the- " kingmaker," whose strong hand had placed
him on the throne. Warwick then pa.s.sed to tlio
other side, ollV'ring his services to t^iieen Marga-
ret and K'ading an expedition which sailed from
Harlleur in Sei)teinber, convoyed by a French
lleet. P^dward found himself unprepared to re-
sist the Yorkist risings which welcomed War-
wick and he tied to Holland, seeking aid from
his brother-in-luw, the Duke of IJurguiidy. For
nearly six months, the kiiigilom was in the hands
of Warwick and the Lancastrians; the unfor-
tunate Henry VL, released from ea])tivity in
the Tower, was onc(! more seated on the throne.
15ut oil the lltli of .March, 1471, Edward reap-
peared in England, landing at Kavenspur, ju-o-
fessing that Ik; came only to recover his dukedom
of York. As he moved southwards he gathered
a large force of supitorters and soon reassunied
the royal titl(! and pretensions. London opened
its gates to him, and, on the I4th of April — ex-
actly one month after liis landing — he defeated
his oi)i)onents at iJurnet, where Warwick, " tho
king-maker " — the last of the great feiulal baroas
— was slain. Henry, again 11 captive, was sent
back to t he Tower, liut'l leury 's dauntless ([ueen,
who landed at Weymouth, wi"th a body of French
allies on the very day of tho disastrous IJarnet
fight, refused to sul)mit. Cornwall and Devon
were true to her cause and gave her an army
with which she fought the la.st battle of the war
at Tcwksbury on the 4tli of 3Iay. Defeated and
taken pris<mer, her young sou shiin — whether in
the l)atlle or .•li'ter it is unknown — the long con-
tenlioii of .Margaret of Anjou ended on that
bloody lield. A few days later, when the tri-
umphant Y'orkist King Edward entereil London,
his poor, demented Lancastrian rival died sud-
denly and suspiciously in the Tower. The two
parties in the hjng contention had each assumed
the badge of a rose — the Y'orkists a white rose,
the Lancastrians a red one. Hence the name of
tho Wa:s of the Hoses. "As early as the time of
John of Ghent, the ro.se was used as au heraldic
emblem, and when he married Blanche, tho
ilaughter of the Duke of Lancaster, he used the
red ro.se for a device. Edniuiul of Laiurlev, his
brother, the lifth son of Edward III., adopted
the white ro.se in opposition to Liiu; and their
followers afterw.ards maintained these distinc-
tions in the bloody wars of tlie lifteeiith century.
There is, however, no authentic account of the
precise period when these badges were Urst
adopted."— Mrs. Ilookham, Life and Times of
Margnret of Anjou, v. 2, ch. 1,
Also ix: J. Gairdner, Houses (f Laiimster and
Tor/c. — Sir J. l{;unsay, Lancaster and York.
820
ENOLAND, 1455-1471.
F.ffvvU (>/ Ihf
Want ((/ thv UimeH.
ENGLAND. 140I-14H5.
— ('. VV. ()in;iii, ir<//vr(V/,', llu; Kut;/-iiiii/,<r, rh-
5-17.— Sw, iilso, TowToN, lUitNKT, and Tkwks-
iiniv.
The effects of the Wars of the Roses. — " It.
iHiisloiiisliiiiir Id olisi rvc the liipidily willi which
it [till' Kntflisii imiiun] h.ul sctilcil (iowii to orilcr
ill tlic rciuii of Ik'iiiy VII. alter so innny years
of civil (lissi'iisioii. It would leail us to infer that
those wars were thenars of a class, and not of
tlu' nation; and that the clTectsof thciirhave heeii
irreatlv e.xai^gerated. With the sinirle exception
of Caile's rehcllioii, Ihcy had nothiim' in coininoii
with the revolutions of latiT or earlier times.
They were not wars a i;aiiist classes, airainst forms
of uovernmenf, a.L^ainst the order or the institu-
tions of the nation. It was the riv.-ilry of two
aristocratic factions stru;r,i-diim for superiority,
neither of them hopiii!:; ordesirinif, whichever ob-
tained tla; upper hand, to introduci; nionientous
chaiiL^es in tlic State or its administration. Tlu;
main hody of the p(!ople took littli; interest in the
strui;j;le; in the towns at least then; was no inter-
mission of employment. The war passed over
till' nation, riillliii]!' the surface, t()i)i)lini|; down
high clilfs here and there, washing away ancient
landmarks, attracting the imagination of tlu; spec-
tator liv th(! mightiness of its waves, and the
noise ot its thunders; hut the great body helow
the surface remained unmoved. No famines,
no plagues, conseiiuent on tla; intermittance of
labour caused Ijy civil war, are recorded; even
the i)rici!S of land and provisions scarcely varied
more than they have been known to do in times
of profoundest [)eace. Hut the indirect and silent
operation of these contlicts was imich inon; re-
markable. It reft into fragments the confeder-
ateil ranks of a jjowerful territorial aristocracy,
which had hitherto hid dethince to the King, how-
ever iiopiilar, however energetic. Henceforth
thc! position of the Sovereign in the time of the
Tudors, ill relation to all classes of the i)eople,
became very dilTercnt from what it had been:
the royal suiireniacy was no longer a theory, but
a fact. Another class had sprung up on the de-
cay of the ancit'iit nobility. The great towns
Lad enjoyed uninterrupted traiKiuility, and even
flourished, under the storm that was scourifing
the aristocracy and the rural districts. TlH'ir
poimlatioii had inereaseil 1)y numbers whom fear
or tiie horrors of war had induced to thid shelter
behind stone walls. The diminution of agricul-
tural labourers converted into .soldiers in' thc
folly of their lords had turned corn-lands into
pasture, re((uiriiig less skill, less capital, and less
labour." — J. S. Brewer, Thc lici'jauf llenri/VILL,
V. 1, ch. 'i. — "Those who would estimate the
coiKlitiun of England aright should remember
that till! War of the Koses was only a repetition
on a large scale of those private w:irs which dis-
tracted almost every county, and, indeed, by
taking away all sense of security, disturbed al-
most every manor and every class of .society
during the same century. . . . The lawless con-
dition of English society in the 15th century «e-
seinbled that of Irelanil in as recent a date as
the beginning of the litth century. ... In both
countries women were carried otf, sometimes at
night; they were tirst violated, then dragi;ed to
the altar in their night-dress and compelled to
marry their captors. . . . Cliildren were seized
and thrown into a dungeon until ransomed by
their parents."— W. Denton, Eiirjland in the, 15<A
Century, ch. 3.— "The Wars of the Koses wliich
tilled the second half of the l.'ith (cntury fur-
iiishi d the barons with an arena in which their
instinclsof violence had freer |ilay than ever; it
was they who, under the pretext of dynasiic in-
tei'ests which had cea.sed to exist, of their own
free choice prolonged the struggle. .Vltogether
unlike the Italian condotticri. the English lianais
showed no mercy to their own order; they
massacred and exterminated each other freely,
while they wenr careful to spare the common-
alty. Whole families were extinguished or sub-
merged in till' nameless mass of the nation, and
their estates by conll.scation or escheat helped
to swell the royal domain. When ilenry VII.
had stilled the last movements of rebellion and
had punished, throui;h the Star Chamber, those
nobles who were still suspected of maintaining
aiined bands, tlu; baronage was rediieed to a very
low ebb; not more than twenty-nine lay peers
were summoned by the king to his tirst Parlia-
ment. The old Norman feudal nobility existed
no longer; lla; heroic barons of the great ch.-irter
barely survived in the persons of a i'ew doubtful
descendants; their estates were sjilit up or had
bec'ii forfeited to the Crown. A new class came
forward to till the gaj), that rural middle class
which was formed ... by the fusion of the
knights with the free landowners. It had already
taken the lead in tlu; IIous(^ of Commons, and it
was from its ranks th.it Henry VII. chose nearly
all the new peers. A peerage renewed almost
throughout, ignorant of the haliits and traditions
of the earlier nobility, created in large batches,
closely dependent on the monarch who had raised
it from little or nothing and who had endowed it
with his bounty — this is the phenomenon which
confronts us at IIk; end of the lifteenth century."
— E. 15(nitiiiy, T/k; /■.'/i>//isk Ciiiixtitution, ch. 5.
A. D. 1461.— Accession of King Edward IV.
A. D. 1461-1485.— House of York.— Tlu;
House of York, which triiimiilied in the Wars of
the Hoses, attaining the throne in the ])(.'rson of
Edward IV. (A. I).' 14(jl), cU'rived its claim to the
crown Ihrougii descent, in the female line, from
Lionel, Duke of Clarence, the third son of Ed-
ward III. (the second son who lived to inaiihood
and left ihildren); while the House of Lancaster
traced its lineage to .lohii of (Jaunt, a younger
son of the .same king Edward III., but the liiKi
of Lancastrian succession was through males.
"Had the crown followed the course of heredi-
tary succession, it would have devolved on the
posterity of Lionel. . . . Hy the decease of that
l)riiice without male issue, his possessions and
pretensions fell to ids daughter Philippa, who
by a singular combination of circumstances had
niarried Hoger .Mortimer earl of ^larch, the male
representative of the powerful baron wlio was
attainted and executed for the murder of Ed-
ward II., the grandfather of the duke of Clar-
ence. The son of that potent delinquent had
been restored to his honours and estates at an ad-
vanced period in the reign of Edwjird III. . . .
Edmuiul, his grandson, had espoused I'hilijjpa
of Clarence. IJoger .Mortimer, the fourth in (le-
sceiit from the regicide, was lord lieutenant of
Ireland and was considered, or, according to
.some writers, declared to be. heir of the crown in
the early jiart of Hichard's reign. Edmund .Mor-
timer, earl of March, in whom the hereditary
claim to the crown was vested at the deposition
of Hichard, was then only an infant of ten years
of age. . . . Dying without issue, the preteu-
821
ENGLAND, 14«l-14a*i.
Rirhnnl III
ENGLAND. 1488-1185.
Kion« to tlip crown, which he inherited th^)U^h
the iliikc <if f 'liircrKi', devolved on Id-* sister Anne
Mortimer, wim es|>ons<d Kicliiini of Vorl\ eiirl
of Candiridtre, tlie i.'riindson of Kdwani III. Ii.v
Ids fuiirlli [llfllil son iOdinnnd of |,!ini.dey duixe
of York." Kilward IV. was the u'ratidsoii of tlds
Anne .Mortimer and Hicliard of York.— Sir .1.
Mackiiitosli, lltHt. i'fKiuj.. r. 1, /'/-. :t;{M-;(;)i».— The
lloiiMMif York o<'(ii|)iei| tiie throne lnit twenty-
four ye.'irs. On the death of Kdward IV.. in
I JKt, "the crown was secured liy ids hrollier,
Jtichunl, <luke of rJJoucester, wlio catised Kd-
wards two sons to he murdered in the Tower.
Tlie elder of tliese murdered iirinces is named in
the list of Kntrlish kint;s as EilwardV. ; liut he
intuiol he said to have reigned. Uidiard 111.
was overthrown and slain on lloswortli lield in
1 |H.-..
A. D. 1471-1485.— The New Monarchy.—
The rise of Absolutism and the decline of Par-
liamentary government. — " If we use the name
o| the New .Monarchy to express thi' character
of the Knjilish sovcreiirnty from the time of
IMward IV. to the time of Lli/.ahetli, it is hecause
tlie character of the monarchy durinirlhis jicriod
wassomethini; w liollv new in our history. TIktc
is u') kind of similarity hetwcen the kinjrship of
the Old Kii>rlisli, (d' the Norman, the Anirevin,
or the I'lantagenet sovercijrns, and the kingship
(if the Tudors. . . . "What the (Jreat Hehellion in
its final result actually did was to wipe away
every trace of the New Monarchy, and to take
up ajiain the thri'ad (d' our jiolitieid develo])nieiit
just where it had been snajipeil hy the Wars of
the Koses. . . . The founder of the New Mon-
archy was Kdward IV. . . . AVhile jesting with
aldermen, or dallying with his mistresses, or
idling over the new pages from the printing
press [Caxton's] at AVestminster, ICdward was
silently laying the foundations of an absolute
rule W'hich Henry VII. did little more th;iii de-
velop anil consolidate. The almost total discon-
tinuance of Parliamentary life was in itself a
revolution. Up to this moment the two Ilou.ses
had pl.'iyeil a part which liccame more and more
])roininenr in the government of the realm. . . .
I'nder Henry VI. .'in ini])ortant slej) in constitu-
tional progress had been niadi^ by abandoning
the old form of presenting the recpicsts of the
Parliament in the form of ]ietitions which were
sid)sei|uenlly moulded into statutes by the Hoyal
Councils; the statute itself, in its final form, was
now jiresented for the royal assent, and the
Crown was dei>rive<l of its former privilege of
nxxlifyiiig it. Not oidy does this progress cease,
but tlie legislative activitv of I'arliamcnt itself
comes abrui)tly to an end. . . . The necessity
for summoning the two Houses had, in fact, been
removed by the enormous tide of we.ilth which
the confiscation of the civil war jjoured into the
royal treasury. . . . It was said that nearly a tifth
of the land had passed into the royal possi'ssion at
one peril"! or another of the civil war. Edward
added to his resources by t riding on a vast scale.
. . . The enterprises he had planned against
France . . . enabled Edward not only to increase
his hoard, but to deal a (h'adly blow- at liberty.
Setting aside the usage of loans sanctioned bv
the authority of Parliament. Edward called be-
fore him the' merchants of the city and reciuested
from each a present or benevolence in i)ropor-
tion to the need. Their comidiunce with his
I)rayer was probably uitled by his popularity
with fho inerchiint class; but the Hystem of he
nevolcnce was soon to Im- developed into the
forced Kiaiis of Wolsiy and the ship money of
( harlcs I." — I. J{. Green, Shovl IliM. <•/ t/ic Kii;/.
I'liijilt , eh. (J, Mft. y.
Ai.so in: W. Stubbs, Comt. Jlitt. of Enn., vh.
A. D. 1474.— Treaty with the Hanseatic
League. See II.xnsa Towns.
A. D. 1476.— Introduction of Printing by
Caxton. See Phintini;, Ac: A. I). lITti ll'.tl.
A. D. 1483-1485.- Murder of the young king,
Edward v.— Accession of Richard IIL— The
battle of Bosworth and the fall of the House
of York.— On the death of Edward IV., in 1-IKl.
his crafty and unscrupulous brother, IJichard,
Duke of" (tlouccster, gathered (pdckly into his
hands the reins of power, proceeding with con-
summate audacitv and ruthlessucss to sweep
every strong rival out of liis path. Coiitentiiig
himself for a few weeks, only, with the tilU' of
Protector, he soon disimtcd the validity of his
brother Edward's nnirriagc. caused an obseipii-
ous Parliament to set aside the young sons whom
the latter had hd't. declaring them to bo illegiti-
mate, and pl.'iccd the crown on his own head.
Tile little princes (King Edward V., and Kich-
ard. Duke of Y'ork), imuiured in the Tower,
were murdered presently at their uncle's com-
mand, and Hichard III. appeared, for the time,
to liave triumphed in his ambitious villainy.
Hut, popular as he made himself in many cun-
ning ways, his deeds excited a horror which
united I.,ancastrians with the party of Y'ork in u
common iletestation. Friends of Henry, Earl of
Richmond, then in exile, were not slow to take
advantage of this feeling. Henry could claim
descent from the .same John of Gaunt, sou of
Edward III., to whom the House of Lancaster
traced its lineage; but his family — the Beau-
forts — sprang from the mistress, not the wife,
of the great Duke of Lancaster, and had only
been legitimated by act of Parliament. The
Lancastrians, however, -were sjitistied with the
royalty of liis blood, aiul the Y'orkists were
made content liy his promise to marry a daugh-
ter of Edward I'V. On this understanding being
arranged, Henry came over from Brittany to
England, landing at Milford Haven on the 7th
or 8th of August, 1485, and advancing through
Wales, being joined liy great numbers as he
move<l. Hichard, who had no lack of courage,
marched (piickly to meet him, and the two
forces joined battle on Bosworth Field, in Leices-
tershire, on Sunday, Aug. 21. At the outset of
the fighting Richard was deserted by a large
division of his army and saw that his fate was
sealed. He plunged, with desjiairing rage, into
the thicki'st of the struggle and was slain. His
crowned helmet, which lie liad worn, was found
by Sir Heginald Bray, battered and broken, under
a hawthorn bush, and placed on the head of his
rival, w ho soon attained a more solemn corona-
tion, as Henry Vn. — C. M. Yongc, Vfiimos from
Kidj. llixt., M. St'rien, c. 19-20. — "I must record
my impression that a minute study of the facts
of Uichard's life has tended more and more to
convince me of tlie geuenil fidelity of the por-
trait with which we have been made familiar by
Shakespeare .•ind Sir Thomas More. I feel quite
asliamed. at this day, to think how I mused over
this subject long ago, wasting a great deal of
time, ink and paper, in fruitless efforts to satisfy
822
ENGLAND. 148;j-148o.
The Tudtim.
ENGLAND, 14H7-1497.
t'ven my own mind that tnuiitionnl Mack was
real liistoriciil while, or at worst a kind of fjrcy.
, . . Hotii tiu' rliaraclcr and lursoiial ap|icaniM('i'
of Kicliard lU. Iiavc fnrnislicd mailer of coiitro-
versy. lliit witli re^rard to llie former the day
lias now jjoik; by wlieii it was possilde to doiilit
tiie t'videncc! at least of Ids iiriiuiiial crime; and
that lie was rcjj;ardcd as a tyrant liy his sid»jects
seems almost ci|tndly iiiilis|)uta))le. At the same
time h(! was not destitute of l)etter (iiialilles.
... As kinj; Ik; seems really to have stiidh'd
his country's welfare, passed goo<l laws, endeav-
oured to i)ut an end to extortion, de<'lined the
free irifts olfered to him by several towns, and
declared he would rather have the hearts of his
s\d)jects than their money. His muniticencc
was es|)eciall3' shown in rcli>;ious fotiiidations.
. . . llis hypocrisy was not of the vul/rar kind
which seeks to screen hal)itual baseness of motive
by habitual aflectalion of virtue. His best and
his worst deeds were alike too well known to bo
cither concealed or magnilUid; at lea.st, soon
after he became kiiij,', all doubt upon the subject
nuist have been removed. . . . llis iiiKialiating
manners, toj^ether with the liberality of his dis-
position, seem really to have nutigatcil to a con-
siderable extent the alarms created by his fitful
deeds of violence. The reader will not retiuire
to be reminded of Shakespeare's portrait of a
murderer who could cajoh; the woman whom he
had most exasperated and made a widow into
marrying himself. That Richard's ingenuity
was equal to this extraordinary feat we do not
venture to assert; but that he had ii wonderful
power of reassuring those whom he luid most in-
timidated and deceiving those who knew him
best there can bo very littlo doubt. . . . llis
ta.ste in building was magnificent and princely.
. . . There is scarcely any evidence of Richard's
[alleged] deformity to be derive;! from original
portraits. The number of portraits of Richard
which seem to bo contemporary is greater than
miglit have been expected. . . . The face in all
the portraits is a remarkable one, full of energy
and decision, yet gentle and sad-looking, sug-
gesting the idea not so much of a tyrant as of a
mind accustomed to unpleasant thoughts. No-
where do we find depicted the warlike hai'd-
favourcd visage attributed to him by Sir Thomas
More. . . . With such a one did the long reign of
the Plantagenets terminate. The fierce spirit
and the valour of the race never showed more
strongly than at tlie close. The Middle Ages,
too, as far as England was concerned, may be
said to have jiassed away with Richard III." —
J. Gairdner, History of the Life and lieign <f
Richard The Third, introd. and ch. C.
A. D. 1485.— Accession of King Henry VII.
A. D. 1485-1528.— The Sweating Sickness.
See SwKATiXG Sicknkss.
A. D. 1485-1603.— The Tudors.— The Tudor
family, which occupied the English throne from
tiie accession of Henry VII., 14b5, until the death
of Elizabeth, 1603, took its name, but not its
royal liueago, from Sir Owen Tudor, a handsome
Welsh chieftain, who won the lieart and the
hand of the young widow of Henry "V., Cather-
ine of France. The eldest son of that marriage,
made Eail of Richmond, married in his turn
^Margaret Beaufort, great-granddaughter to John
of Gaunt, or Ghent, who was one of the sons of
Edward III. From this latter union came Henry
of Riclimoud, as he was known, who disputed
the crown with Richard III. and made his claim
go(Ml on Hosworth Field, where the haled Rieh-
anl was killed. Henry's pretensions wen- bawd
on the royal descent r)f his mother — derived,
however, through .John of (Jaunt's mistress —
and llie dynasty which he founded was closely
related in origin to the Laiicasirian line. Henry
of Richmond strengthened his hold u|inn the
crown, though not his tith; to it, l)y marrying
Elizal)eth, daughter of Edward IV., thus join
ing the whil(! rose to the red. He ascended the
throne as Henry VII.. A. I). 148r»; was suc-
ceeded by bis son, Henry VIII., in l^O!), ami the
latter liy his three children, in order as follows:
Edwaril VI., ir)47; iMary, inriU; Elizai)eth, 1:mS
'I'he 'i'udor fanulv becamtj extinct on the death
oftiueen Elizabeth, in KiOlJ. "They [the Tudor.s]
reigned in England, wilhoul a successful rising
against them, for ui>wards of a huiulred years;
l)ut not more Ity a studied avoidance of what
nught so provoke thi; country, than by tin; most
resolute repression of every elTort, on the jiart of
what remained of tlu; peerage and great fanulies,
to make head against the throne. They gave
free indulgence to their tyranny only within the
circle! of the court, while tliey unceasingly
watclKid and conciliated the temper of liie peoi)le.
The work they had to do, and which by more
scrupulous means was not possible to be done,
was one of i)aramount necessity ; the dynasty
lunnterruptetlly endured for only so long as was
re(|iusit(! to its thorough completion; and to each
individual sovereign the particular task might
seem to have been specially assigned. It was
Henry's to spurn, renounce and utterly ca.st off,
the Pope's authority, without too suddeidy re-
volting the people's usages and habits; to arrive
at blessed results by ways that a better man
nught have held to be accursed; during the
momentous change in progress to keep in neces-
sary check both the parties it affected; to perse-
cute with an equal hand the Romanist and the
Luthenm ; to send the Protestant to the stake for
resisting Popery, and the Roman Catholic to the
scalfold for not admitting himself to be Pope;
while he meantime pliuulered the monasteries,
hunted down and rooted out the priests, alienated
the abbey lands, and glutted himself and his
creatures with that enormous spoil. It was
Edward's to become the ready and imdoubting
instrument of Crainner's design, and, with all
the inexperience and more than the oljstinacy of
youth, so to force upon the people hiscompro-
nuse of doctrine and observance, as to render
possible, even perhai)s unavoidable, his cider
sister's reign. It was Mary's to undo the effect
of that i)recipitate eagerness of the Reformers,
1)\' lighting the fires of Smithflcld ; and oppor-
tunely to arrest the waverers from Protestantism,
by exhibiting in their excess the very worst vices,
the cruel bigotry, the hateful intolerance, the
spiritual slavery, of Rome. It was Elizabeth's
finally and forever to ui)root that slavery from
amongst us, to champion all over the world a
new and nobler faith, and immovably to estab-
lish in England, the Protestant religion." — .1.
Forster, Hist, and J>io;/. Es»(i/s, pp. 231-'222.
Also in: S. R. Gardiner and J. IJ. Mullinger,
Iiitrod. to the Studi/ of Eiif/. Hist., ch. G.—C. E.
Jlolierly. The EtirJji i'udar.y.
A. D. 1487-1497.— The Rebellions of Lam-
bert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck. — Although
Henry VII., soon after he attained the throne,
82.*^
KNiW.ANI), l»H7-t407.
KN(JLANI). l.vriI-l«Tn f'KNTl IMKS
nmrri<-<| KH/uIm lli <'f Ynrk. (Imik'Jiti r of Kilwanl
IV , mill tliiH iiiilliMJ thf two riviil Iioiismh, tin-
YorkistH wire illscuiiiciilni wiili lii^nilc. " With
llif li(l|>iif MarL'iirtii.f Hurk'uiiilv, Kil\Miril IV. 's
hiMiir, Mini .luiiitH IV. <if Sctitliiiiij, tliiy ;i< liially
M't up two iiii|Mi^i( TH, dill' iifttr till' iitliir, i'
iliilmllif thniiir 'riicn- waia irnl luiriif tin-
llniiM' of Vnrk ^lill iilivc — Miiiii),' IMniinl. I'.tr]
»)f NVarvvirk Jhoiiiif Itli' IMlkruf ('Iiiitih r, lili.llirr
to Kihviiril lv.|. . . . aiiil lliun liml tiiktii tin-
prr<llUlii>ll til kcrp lliiil ill I 111' TavcI'. Hut. Ill
1 H7 ii ^ll:lm Kail nf Warwirk aiipcaiiii in Ire
lanil.aiiil iM'iiifjMipportid liy tlii' Kailnf Kildarr,
wa.'4 I tiially crnwiiril in Dnltliii Callicilral.
Ill iiry Huiiii put iliiwii till' iiiiiMisiiiri' liy sliiiwini;
tlic rial carl to tlic pcuplr I'l' i.iaitluii, ami ilcfcat
iiiir tlif ar:nv of tin; piclciHlrii rail at .Slnkr,
near Newark, .liiiic. \i>*7. Ilo iiniviii ti» Im
a lail naiiii'il i.aiiilii-rt Siiiiiii'l, tlu' smi of a
Jiiinrr at Oxroni, ami lie lii'raiiic a sriillinii in
llio kliit'H kitcIi'M." In 1 llfJ aiiiitlur pn ii'iulcr
of liki' ( luirM.'tcr was limutrlit furwanl. "A
ydiiiiK mail, callcil I'crkin Warlicck, wliu proved
afliTWanU to tie a native of 'rniiriiay, preleiideil
that he wan Uieharil, DiiUeof ^'ork, the ymiiiifer
of tli)^ two little ]iriiiees in the 'I'liwer, ami that
ho had cseiiped when lii>4 hrother Kilwanl \. was
innrilered. lie persuaded the kiii^ of France
and Murgarei of llur^nmly to ackiiowlidiie him,
and wiiH not only received at the forciirn conrt.s,
hut, after failing in Ireland, he went to Scot laud,
where .laincM IV'. married him to hi-* own co'isin
('atliarine (tordoii, and helped him to invade
Kn^laiiil ill MUll. 'I'lie invasion was del'eated
however, hy the Karl of Sumy, and then I'lrkin
went, liack to Ireland, where the pcopli' had re-
Vdlted a^ain.Ht the heavy ta\i s. There hv raised
nn army and marched to K.veter, hut nieetiiiir the
king's troops at 'raiinlon, he lost couraj^c, and
lied to the Ahhey of Heaulieii, when; lie was
taken prisoner, and .sent to the Tower in 1107."
In l.jid hoth I'erkiii Warlncli and tla^ young
Karl of Warw ick were executed. — A. IJ. Buckley,
J/ist. I'f h'lii/. for 1)1 (ji II litis, ell. 1:1.
Also I.N: .1. (Jairdner, >/"/•// "/" I'lihin War-
l>u-k (HjiiK to l.ifi' «f liirfi.inl ///.).'—('. .M, Vonge,
t'limioH friHii t'lifi. Ilixf., Wd SI ricn, c, 21 mid 2t.
— J. (hiirdner, Ihiiri/ ]'//.. c//. ■\iiiiil7.
I5th-i6th Centuries. — The Renaissance.- -
Life in "Merry England." Preludes to the
Elizabethan Age of literature.— "Toward the
clost' of the titleiiilli century . . . comnierci' and
the woollen I rademade.-isiiddi'ii advance, and such
an cnormoii.s one that conilields were changed
into iiasture lands, ' wherchy the inhahitants of
the said town (.Manchester) have gotten and coiiii!
into riches and wealthy livings,' so that in {'t'y'.i,
•10,I)(M) pieces of «li)th were e.xporlcd in Knglish
ship.s. It W11.H already the Kngland which we see
to-(hiy, a land of meadows, green, intersected hy
hedgerows, crowded with caltle, aliouiiding in
ships, a manufacturing, opulent land, with a
people of hecf-cating toilers, who enrich it whih
they <'nrich tliemselvcs. They improved agricul-
ture to such an extent, that in half a century the
l)ro(iuce of an acre was doiihled. Thev grew so
rich, that at the heginning of the reign of Charles
I. the Coinmoiis represented three limes the
wealth of the Upiier House. The ruin of Ant-
werp hy the Duke of I'arnia .sent to Kni;laiid
'the third part of the merchants and manufac-
turers, who made silk, damask, stockings, taf-
fetas, and stTges.' The defeat of the Armada
and the decadence of Spain opened the hciis to
their merchants. The toiling hi\e, who would
dare, attempt, cx|>lore, act in iinisoii, and always
with profit, was alioiit to reap its advantages
and set out or Its voyages, l)U/./.ing over the
univcrHc. At the liase and on the suininit of
society, in all ranks of life, in all gradesof human
condiiion, this new \velfaii' hecaiiie visilile. . . .
It is no! when all is good, hut when all ishctter,
that they see the lirkdit side of life, and are
tempted to make a holiday of it. This is why at
this period llii'v did inakea holiday of it, a splen-
did show, so like a picture that it fostered paint-
ing in Italy, so like a representation, tiiat it
produced the drama in I'jigland. Now that tlio
iiiillle axe and sword of the civil wars had lie.'iten
down the independent iioliilily, and the aliolitioii
of the law of niaintenaiiceliad destroyed the petty
royally of each great feudal haron, the lords
(piilled their soiiihre castles, liattlemented for-
liisses, surrounded hy stagnant water, pierced
with iiai'i'ow windows, a sort of stone hreast-
plales of no us(! hut to preserve the life of their
masters. They Hock into new palaces, with
vaulted roofs and turrets, covered with fantastic
and manifold ornaments, adon.ed with terraces
and vast staircases, with gardens, fountains, stat-
ues, such as Were the pahu'cs of Henry VIII. and
Kli/.alietii, half Ootliic and half Italian, whose
cKiivenience. grandeur, and lieaiity announci'd
already h.'ihils of society and the taste for pleas-
ure. They came to court and ahandoned their
old nianners; the four meals which scar<'ily suf-
liced their former voracity were reduu'd to two;
genllemeii soon liecame rellned, placing their
glory in till elegance and singularity of their
amu.sements and their clothes. . . . To vent tho
feelings, to satisfy the heart and eyes, to set free.
Iioldly on all the roads of existence the pack of
appetites and instincts, this was the craving
which the manners of t lit; time het rayed. It was
' merry Ijiglaml,' as they called it llien. It was
not yet stern and constrained. It expanded
widely, freely, and rejoiced to liiid itself so ex-
jiaiidi'd. No longer at court only was the ilramii
found liiit ill the village. Strolling companies he
took themselves thither, and the country folk
supplied any deliciencies wlien necessary. Sliak-
speare siiw, hefore he depicted them, stupid fel-
lows, carpenters, joiners, licllow-ineiiders, play
I'yramiis and Tliishe, represent, the; lion roaring
as gently as jiossilile, and tlu; Wiill, hy stretching
out their hands. Every holiday wasii pageant, in
which townspeople, workmen, anil children bore
their parts. . . , A few .sectarians, chielly in tho
towns and of the people, clung gloomily to tho
Millie. Ihit the court and the men of the worhl
sought their teachers and their heroes from pagan
(irceceand Uoiiie. Ahoiit 1 1!)0 they hegaii to
read the classics; one after the other they trans-
lated iheni; it was .soon the fashion to read them
in the original. Kli/alieth, ,Iane (.irey, the Duch-
ess of Norfolk, the (.'ouiUess of Arundel, many
other ladies, were conversant with Plato, Xeno-
phnii, and Cicero in the original, and appreciated
them. (Jr.'iilually, hy an iiiseiisihle change, men
were raised to the level of llie great and healthy
minds who had freely handled ideas of all kinds
lifleen centuries ago. They comprehended not
only their language, but their thought; they did
m)t repeat lessons from, hut held conversations
with them; they were their equals, and found
in them intellects as manly as their own. . . .
824
KNOLAND, lOTII CKNTUUV. IUnai,^ince. KX(}LAM>, ItlTlI CKNTIUV.
A<T()HH the triiin of luMxlcd nrliouliucn mid Rordlil
tavillcrs till' Iwii mliill iiiiil iJiiiikini; iiurs wti'i'
iiiiitril, mill the iiiMilrriis, siliiiciiiir lln' iiifiiiitinc
(ir smitllinu' mijcch of iIh' inidillc iii;f, ciindc-
hi'flldnl iiiily In ((iiivi'l'Hi' willi the IKililr iiliciriil-*.
'i'lli'V accepted llieir^iids. at leiist tliey llliderstaiid
tliein, iiiid keep llieiii li\ their side. Ill pix'iiis,
IVstiviiN, tiipi'stricM, iiIiiiiinI all ceretiioiiieH llicy
appear, lint |•e^t^^ed liy pedaiiti'V merely, Imt
kept alive liy sympathy, and j^duritied liy the
arts ol' all iiu;e as tlniirisliiiii; and almost as pro-
fiiiiiid as that (if their <ailiest liirili. After the
trrrilile ni;;lit id' the iiiidille a/e, and the doloniiis
le;,'eiids of spirits and the damned, it was a de-
liirlit to sec au'aiii Olympus shiiiinu: upon us from
( ireecc ; i*s lieroi(^ and lii-aiitifiil deities once more
ravishini; tlie heart of men, they raised and in-
striicli'il thisyoiiiii? world liy speaking.' to it the
liini,'iiaLre of passion and L'eniiis; iiml the a^e of
siroiiu; deeds, free sensuality, hold invention, had
only to follow its own heiit, in order to discover
ill them thi! eternal |iroinoters of lilierty and
lieaiit V. Nearer still was another pa.i:anism, that
of Italy; the more .seductive because more mod-
ern, and beeuiise it. <ircu1ates fresh sap in an
iiiieiciit stock; the more attractive, lieeause nion-
sensuous and present, with its worship of force
and freniiis, of ])leasiiremid voliiptiioiisne.ss. . . .
At that liiiK! Italy clearly led inevery thiim:, and
civilisation was to be drawn thence as from its
sjiriii.!;. What is this civilisation wliich is lliiis
iiniiosed on the wdiole of l^irope, wdieiice every
.science and every eleu'ance comes, who.se laws
are obeyed in every court, in \vliich Surrey, Sid-
ney, Sjiciiser, Shakspeare .soui;lil. their models
iiiid till irmaterials V It. was |ia,i;an in its elements
and its birth; in its lanj;ua;;e, which is but
slightly diiferent from Latin; in its Latin tr.idi-
tiiiiis and recollections, which no f;ap has come
to interrupt; in its constitution. whose old munic-
ipal life first led and absorbed the feudal life;
ill the i;enius of its race, in which energy and en-
JDvmenl always hbounded." — II. A. Taiiie, Hint,
of Kiif/lisfi JJt,-r,itinr, ///•. 2, r/i. 1 (r. 1). — "Tiic
intellectual movenicnl, to which we give tiie
name of Henais.saiice, expressed itself in England
mainly through the Drama. Other Kices in that
era of iiuickened activity, when modern man re-
gained the consciousness of his own strength and
goodliness after centuries of mental stagnation
and .social dejiression, threw their energies into
the ])lasUc arts and scholarship. The English
found jv similar outlet for their pent-up foici s in
tlic Drama. The arts and literature of (treece
and l{ome bad been revealeil by Italy to Europe.
Humanism had placed the present once more in
ft vital relation to the jiast. Tlie navies of I'or-
tiigal and Spain had discovered new continents
beyond the ocean; the merchants of Venice and
Genoa had explored the farthest East, ("operni-
cus had revolutionised astronomy, and the tele-
scope was revealing fresh worlds beyond the s\in.
Till! Bible had been rescued from tiie mortmain
of the Church ; .scholars studied it in the language
of its authors, and the jieople read it in their own
tongue. In this iiipid development of art, litera-
ture, science, and discovery, the English had
hitherto taken but little part. But they were
ready to reap what other men hiid sown. Unfa-
tigued by the labours of the pioneer, un.sophisti-
cuted V)y the peilantries and sophistries of th(!
schools, in the freshness of their youth and vig-
our, they surveyed the world uufolded to them.
Tor more than half a century they freely enjoyed
I'c splendour of Ihisspei tacle, until the strugtrle
h'r |iolitii :d and reiiginiis lilieriy repliinLred them
ill the hard realities of life. i>iiring that event
fill period of spiritual disetigagenienl from ab
sorbiiitr cares, the race was fully conscious of it.s
national iinportance. It had shaken olf the sliack-
les of oppressive feudalism, the trammels i>{
ecclesiastiial tyranny. It had not yet piissed
under tlie I'uriiaii yoke, or felt theencroachmentH
of despotic monarchy. It was justly proud of
tlie Virgin liueeii, with whose idealised person-
ality the |)eiiple ideiitilied their newly acipiired
sense of gre.itness. . . . What in those llfty years
they saw with the (liiirvoyaiit ey<'S of artists, tlu!
])oets wrote. And what they wrote, remains im-
perishable. It is the pnrtrait of their age, the
portrait, of an age in which liiimatiity stood self-
revealiil, a miracle and marvel to its own adiiiir-
iiig curiosity. Eiij;laiid was in a state of transi-
tion when the Drama came to |ierfection. That
was one of those rare jieriods when the past and
the future are both coloiin I by imaLriiiation. and
liolh shed a glory on the ju'cseiit. The medieval
order was in dissoliiiiuii ; thi- modern order was
in process of formation. Vet the old slate of
things had not faded from memory and usage;
the new had not assumed despotic, sway. jMeii
stood then, as it wi're, between two dreams — ii
dream of thi" past, thronged with sinister mid
splendid reminisceiices; a dream of the future,
bright with unlimited aspir.ttions and iiideHnile
hopes. Neither the retreating forces of the Mid-
dle Ages nor the advani'ing forces of the modern
era jin d upon tliein with the; iron weight of
actualii \ . The brutalities of leiidalism had been
softeneii; but the chivalrous sentiment remained
to inspire the Surreys and the Sidneys of a milder
epoch. . . . What distinguished the English at
this cjioch from the nations of the South wa.l
not reliiiement of manners, sobriety, or self-con-
trol. On the contrary they retained an unenvi-
able character for more than common .savagery.
. . . I')rasmus describes the tilth of their houses,
and the sicfviiesses engi'iidered in their cities liy
bad ventilation. What rendered the jicoplf
superior to Italians and Spaniards was the lirm-
ness of their moral libre, the sweetness of their
humanity, a more niasculiue tenii)er, less vitiated
instincts and so])histicated intellects, a law-abid-
ing and religious conscience, contempt for tre.ich-
cry and baseness, intolcnnce of jiolitieal or
ecclesiastical despotism combined with fervent
love of home and country. They wcn^ coarse,
but Tiol, vicious; ]ileasure-loving, but not licen-
tious; violent, but not cruel ; luxurious but not
etfeminate. Machiavelli was a name of loathing
to them. Sidney, Essex, Raleigh, More, and
Drake were pojiular heroes; and whatever may
be thought of these men, they certainly counted
no Marquis of I'escara, no Duke of Valentino, no
^lalatesta IJaglioni, no Cosiino de' jVIedici among
them. The Southern ICurojiean type betrayed it-
self but faintly in jioliticians like Uichard ("rom-
well and Holiert Dudley. . . . Affectations of
foreign vi(;es were only a varnish on the surface
of society. The core of the nation remained
sound and wholesome. Nor was the ciiltun;
which the English borrowed from less unsophisti-
cated nations, mi -e than superficial. The inci-
dents of Court gossip show liow savage was the
life beneath, (^ueen Elizabeth spat, in the pres-
ence of her nobles, ut a gentleman who had dis-
825
KNOLAM). lOTII CKNTrUY. Wenrj, I'll.
ENGLAND, 1513.
plffiwd lirr; stnifl: Kssix on the check: drove
lliirlciirh liliililMriiiii from Iwr apiirtiiiitit. Laws
in niirry Kn^rlimd were cxcculfd witli un('(>m-
proinisinir sivcrilv. Kvcry townsliij) liad its
jiiillows; ivcry viliiiirc its stixks, \viiipi>ing -post
and pillory. Here and tlicrc. litTctics were
burned upon llii' niiirk<t place: and tlic block
upon Tower Mill was seldom dry. . . . Men and
women who ri'ad I'lalo. or discussed the eleffun-
dcHof I'elrarcli, sidTered brutal practical jokes,
relished the obscenities of jesters, used the gross-
est laiiL'uau'e of the people. Carrying,' farms
andaenson their liaeks in the shape of costly
silks jind laces, they lay ui)on rushes filthy with
the vonnt of old banrjuets. (Jlitteriiig in suits
of fziU and jewelled mail, they jostled with
town port! rs in the stench of the bear gardens,
or the bloody bull-pit. The church itself was
not respected". The nave of old .*<. Paul's became
a rendezvous for tldeves and i)rostitutes. ... It
is dillicult, even l)y noiinic an iidinity of su< h
eliaracleristics, to piiint the many-coloureil incon-
jrruitiesof I'.nirlaiid at that epoch. Yet in the
midst of this confusion rose cavaliers like Sid-
ney, philosophers like Uacon, poets like SjienstT;
men in whom all that is pure, ehvate<l, subtle,
tender, stronir, wise, delicate and learned in our
modern civilisation dis|)l,'iye(l itself. Ami the
masses (<{ the i>eo|)le were still in harmony with
these hiLrli strains. They formed the audience of
Shakspere. They wept for Desdemona, adoreil
Imogen, listened with Jessica to music in the
moon-liiiht at Helmont, wandered with i{osalind
thronirh woodliind ulades of Arden. Such v. as
the s(Hiety of which our theidre became the mir-
ror. " — J. A. Symonds, S/iii/kK/yrc'^ PrcdfCtnitors
ill the Kii'ilish JJriiiiiii. rh. '2, *'•/. 1, 2, (iiid ?i.
A. D. 1497.— Cabot's discovery of the North
American Continent. Se AiiintKA: A. 1).
14!t7.
A. D. 1498. — Voyage and discoveries of
Sebastian Cabot. — Ground of English claims
in the New World. SccAmiuka: A.]). 1 4it8.
A. D. 1502. —The marriage which brought
the Stuarts to the English throne. See Scot-
land: A. 1). \rm.
A. D. 1509. — The character and reign of
Henry VII. — "As a kin.i:. Hai'on tells us that he
was ' a wonder for wise men. ' Few indeed witc
the councillors that shared his confidence, but
the wise men, competent to form i;n estimate of
his statesmanshii , had but one opinion of his
consununate wis<loin. Foreitrners were greatly
struck with the success that attended his poHey.
Andiassatlors were astonished at the intimate
knowledire he disidayed of the alTairs of their
own countries. From the mo.st inipropitio\is
Ix'gimnntrs. a proscrilied man and an exile, he
had won his way in evil times to a throne beset
witlMlangcrs; he hud pacilied his own e<mntry,
cherished commerce, formed strong .".llianeesov'er
Kiiroi)e, and made his jxTsonal intluenee felt by
the rulers of France, Spain, Italy, and the Nether-
lands as that of a man who could turn the scale
in matters of the hiirln .st importiinee to their own
tlomestie welfare. . . . From first to last 'lis
jMilicy was essentially his own; for thoue.ii , .
knew well how tochooM' the ablest councdlors, he
asked or took their advice only to such an extent
as he himself deemed expedient. ... No one
can understand his reii^'n, or that of his son. or,
we ndght add. of "...s Kfanddauirhter Queen
ElizalHlh, without appreciating the fact that,
however well served with councillors, the sover-
eign was in tho.se days always his own Prime
Minister. . . . Even the legishition of the reign
must be regarded as in large measure due to
Henry himself. We have no means, it is true,
of knowing how muc' of it originated in his own
mind; but that it was all discussed with him in
Council and approved before it was passed we
have every reason to believe. For he never
appears to have put the royal veto upon any Hill,
as constitutional u.sage bcith before and after his
days allowed. lie gave his assent to all the
enactments sent up to him for ajjproval, though
he sometimes added to them provisos of his
own. And Haeon, who knew th(^ traditions of
those times, distinctly attributes the good legis-
lation of his days to the king himself. 'In that
jiart, both of justice and policy, which .s the most
durable i^art, and cut, as it were, in biass or
marble, the making of good laws, he did excel.'
This statement, with but slight variations in the
wording, appears again and again tiiroiighout
the History; and ehsewherc; it is said that he
was the best lawgiver to this nation after Edward
I. . . . The ])arliaments, indeed, that Henry
summoned were only seven in mnnber, and sel-
dom did any one of tliem last over a year, :io that
during a reign of nearly twenty-four j'cars many
years passetl awaj' without a Parliament at all.
But even in those scanty sittings many Acts
were passed to meet evils that were general sub-
jects of c(. >-l:iint.
He could scarcely be
called a learned man, vet he was a lover of learn-
ing, and gave his children an excellent educa-
tion. His Court was open to scholars. . . . He
was certainly religious after the fashion of his
day. . . . His religious foundations and becjuests
perhaps do not necessarily imply anything more
than conventional feeling. But we must not
eveiiook the curious circumstance that he once
argued with a heretic at the stake at Canterbury
and got him to renounce his heresy. It is melan-
choly to add that he did not thereupon release
him from the punishment to which he had been
sentenced ; but the fact seems to show that he
was afraid of encouraging insincere conversions
by such leiuency. During the last two or three
years of the 15th century there was a good deal
of procedure against lieretics, but on the whole,
we are told, rather by penances than by fire.
Henry had no desire to see the old foundations
of the faith disturbed. His zeal for the Church
was recognised by no less than three Popes in his
time, who each sent him a sword and a cap of
maintenance. ... To commerce and adventure
he was always a good friend. By his encounige-
ment Sebastian Cabot sailed from Bristol and dis-
covered Newfoundland — The New Isle, as it
at first was called. Four years earlier Columbus
had first set fool on the great western continent,
and had not his brother been taken b)- pirates at
sea, it is supposed that he too might have made
his great discovery under Henry's patronage." —
Jas. Gairduer, Jlciiri/ the Seventh, ch. 13.
At.so in : Lord Bacon, Hist, of the lieign of King
Hiin-n Vn.
A. D. 1509.— Accession of King Henry VIII.
A. D. 151 1-1513.— Enlisted in the Holy
League of Pope Julius II. against France. See
Italy: A. 1). irilo- l.'iia
A. D. 1513.— Henry's invasion of France. —
The victory of the Battle of the Spurs. See
Fii.vNCK- A. 1). 13ia-ir)15.
820
ENGLAND, 1513-1539.
Wnt^y. Henry Vltl.
(iHil the Divorce.
ENGLAND, 1527-1534.
A. D. 1513-1529. — The ministry of Cardinal
Wolsey.— From 1513 to 1529, Tlioiuas Wolscy,
who beciiinc Archbishop of York iii 1514, and
Cunlinal in 1515, was the iiiiiiistcr who Kiii<lt'il
the policy of Henry VIII., so far as that head-
strong and absolute monarch could lie guided at
all. "England Avas going through a crisis po-
litically, socially, and intellectually, when Wol-
sey undertook the management of nlfairs. . . .
We must regret that he put foreign policy in tlie
first place, ond reserved his constructive meas-
ures for don.estic affairs. . . . Yet even here we
may doubt if the measures of the English Uefor-
niation woidd have been possible if Wolsey's
mind had not inspired the kir.g and the nation
wilh a heightened consciousness of England's
power and dignity. Wolsey's diplomsu'v at least
tore away all illusions about I'ope and Emperor,
and the ojunion of Europe, and taMi_dit Henry
VIII. the measure of his own strength. It was
impossible that Wolsey's powerful hand should
not leave its imiiressiou upon everything wliich
it touched. If Henry VIII. inherited a strong
monarchy, Wolsey made the basis of monarch-
ical i)ower still stronger. . . . AVolsc}' saw in
the royal power the only possible means of hold-
ing.Iuigland together and guiding it through the
dangci^s of impending change. . . . Wolsey was
in no .sense a constitutional minister, nor did he
pay much heed to constitutional forms. I'arlia-
ment was only summoned once durin;^ the time
that he was in ollice, and then he trie<l to brow-
beat Parliament and set aside its privileges. In
his view the oidy function of Parliament was to
grant money for the king's needs. The king
shotdd siiy liow much he needed, and Parliament
ought only to advise how this sum might be
most conveniently rai.sed. . . . He was unwi.se
in his attempt to force the king's will upon Par-
liament as an unchangeable law of its action.
Ilcnr}' VIII. looked and learned from Wolsey's
failure, and Avhen he took the managemer,t"of
Parliament into his own hands he showed him-
self a consumniiae master of that craft. ... He
was so skilfid that Parliament at last gave lum
even the power over the purse, and Henry, with-
out raising a murmur, imposed ta.xes which
Wolsey would not have dared to suggest. . . .
Where Wolsey would have ma<lc the Crown in-
dependent of Parliament, Henry VIII. reduced
Parliament to be a willing instrument of the
royal will. . . . Henry . . . clothed his despot-
ism with the appearance of paternal solicitude.
He made the people think that he lived for them,
and that their interests were his, whereas Wolsey
endeavoured to convince the people that the king
alone could guard their interests, and that their
only course was to put entire confidence in him.
Henry saw that men were easier to cajole tlian
to convince. ... In spite of the disjidvantage
of a royal education, Henry was a more thorough
Englishman than AVolsey, though Wolsey sj^raiig
from the people. It "was Wolsey's teaciiing,
however, that prepared Henry for liis task. The
king who could use a minister like Wolsey and
then throw him away when he was no longer
useful, felt that there was no linntation to "his
sclf-sulliciency. . . . For politics in the largest
sense, ccmipri.sing all the relations of the nation
at home and abroad, Wolsey had a capacity
which amounted to genius, and it is doiilitful if
this can be said of any otluT Englishman. . . .
Taking England as he found her, he aimed at de-
veloping all her latent possibilities, and leading
Euro|)(! to follow in her train. . . . He made
England for a time the centre of European jioli-
tics, and gave her an intluencr far higher than
she coidd claim on material grounds. . . . He
was indeed a political artist, who worked with a
fret! hand and a certain touch. . . . He was,
though he knew it not, fitted to serve England,
but not to serve the English king. He had the
aims of a national statesman, not of a royal ser-
vant. Wolsey's misfortuiu! was that his lot was
cast on days when the career of a statesman was
not distinct from that of a royal servant." — 31.
Creigbtoii, Conliiuil Wuhii/, eh. 8 <'//(/ 11.
Also i\: J. S. Hrew<>r, The [!<ii/n of Iftiin/
VII f. — ]. A. Froude, llixt. »f Kwj. from the. Fall
of Woh<!i,rli. \-l. — (',. Cavendish, Life of Wo/sri/.
A. D. 1514. — Marriage of the king's sister
with Louis XII. of France. St e FitvNci;: A. 1).
15i:!-ir,l.5.
A. D. 1516-1517. — Intrigues against France.
See Fuanck: A. I). 151(1-1517.
A. D. 1519.- Candidacy of Henry VIII. for
the imperial crown. See Gkhmanv: A. 1). 151i).
A, D. 1520-1521.— Rivalry of the Emperor
and the French King for the English alliance.
See Fu.wck: A. D. 1.5','0-l.5',';5.
A. D. 1525. — The king changes sides in
European politics and breaks his alliance with
the Emperor. Sec Fi!.\.n(i;: A. D. 1.5'25-1.5"i(J.
A. D. 1527. — New alliance with France and
Venice against Charles V. — Formal renuncia-
tion of the claim of the English kings to the
crown of France. See It.vi.y: A.I). 1527-15'.;!).
A. D. 1527-1534.— Henry VIII. and the Di-
vorce question. — The rupture with Rome. —
Henry VIII. "owed his crown to the early death
of his brother Arthur, whose widow, Catharine
of Aragon, the daughter of Ferdinand, and con-
.secpicntly the aunt of Charles V. [emperor],
Henry was enabled to marry through a dispen-
sation obtained by Henr^- VII. from Pope Julius
II. , — marriage with the wife of a deceased brother
being forbidden b}' the laws of the Church.
Henry was in his twelfth year when the marriage
was concluded, but it was not consummated until
the death of his father. . . . The question of
Henry's divorce from Catharine soon became a
subject of discussion, and the effort to procure
the annulling of the marriage from the pope was
prosecuted for a number of years. Henry pro-
fessed, and perhaps with sincerity, that he had
long been troubled with doubts of the validity of
the m.irriage, as being contrary to the divine
law, and therefore not within the limit of the
pope's dispensing power. The death of a num-
ber of his children, leaving only a single daugh-
ter, 3iary, had been interpreted by some as a
mark of the displeasure of God. At the same
time the English people, in the fresh recollection
of the long dynastic struggle, were an.vious on
account of the lack of a male heir to the throne.
On the (lueen's side it was asserted that it was
competent for thi; jiope to autliori/.e a marriage
with a brother's widow, and that no doubt <'ould
possibly exist in the present case, since, accord-
ing to iier tcstimopv, her marriage with Arthur
had never been completed. The eagerness of
Henry to ])r<)c\ire the divorce increased wilh his
growing i)assion for Anne IJoleyn. The negotia-
tions with Home drairgi'd slowly on, Catii.-iriiK?
was six years older tlian himself, and had lost
her charms. He was enamored of this vcung
827
ENOI-ANI), in'JT-l.W.
Sir Thomat More.
ENGLAND. 1529-1535.
English pirl, frcHli from 11k i <>f France. Uv
rcsdlvcil fo liiciik llic nmi. 'mnd willi llic
Spiiiiisli i)riiir(>s who liiul !m'i . (.litliliil will'
for iirjirlv twctily yc'irs. It w.is not witlniiil
reason iliiit tlic ki'iiir" liciMine more ami nKm- in-
censed at the dilatory and vacillatinjr course of
the pope. . . . Henry dclerniined to lay the
(lueslion of the v.ilidily of his iiianiairc lieforeihe
universities of Europe, and this lie did, niakiiii,'
a free use of hriliery aliioad and of menaces at
home. Meal 'if '. lie took measures to cripide
the authority or the po|)e ami of the clerjrv in
En^'land. In these ])roeeediiii:s he was sustained
by a jxijiular feelinir, the urowih of centuries,
nifaiiist foreiirii ecclesiastical interference and
clerical control in civil allairs. The fall of AVol-
sey was the elTect of his failure to jirocure the
divorce, and of the ciuiiity of Anne lioleyii and
her family. ... In order to convict of treason
this minister, whom he had raised to the hiirhest
liinnacle of jxiwer, the kiiii; did not .scrui)le to
avail himself of the ancient statute of pra'inunire,
which W'olsey was licensed of liavinix trans-
pressed by actinir as the iiojie's letrate in Eiiirland
— it wa.s"dishonestly alle.ired, without the royal
license. Early in 15:U the kin.i; char.L'ed the
whole body of the deriry with havini? incurred
the penalties of the same law by siihmittini: to
AVolsey in I'is leiratine character. Assembled in
convocation, they were obliged to implore his
pardon, and obtained it only in return for a larpe
sum of money. In their petition he was styled,
in olK'dienee to liis dictation, ' The Protector and
Huiireme Head of the ("linreh and Clerirv of Eni,'-
land,' to which was a<lded, after loiiir debate, at
the sugirestioii of Archbishoji Warhain — 'as far
as is permitted by the law of Christ.' The
Church, jirostrate thouirh it was at the feet of
the despotic kin.ir, showed some degrei of self-
respect in inserting this amendment. Parliament
foriiade the introdu<tion of jtiipal bulls into Eng-
land. The king was authorizecl if he saw lit, to
withdraw the annals — lirst-fruits of benefices —
from the jioju'. Apj)eals to Home were forliid-
den. The retaliatory measures of Henrv did not
niovi! the iiojie to recede horn his jiositiou. On
or alM>ut January 25. 1583, the king was privately
niarriid to Anne lioleyn. ... In 1584 Henry
â– was conditionally oxcommunicated by Clement
VH. The papal decree deposing him from the
throne, ami absolving his subjects from their
allegiance, did not follow until 15;iS, and'was
issmd bv Paul IIT. Clement's bull was sent
forth on the 28 of March. On the 28 of Novem-
Iwr I'arliament ])assed the Act of Siijiremacy,
without tiie (lualifying claus<> which the clergy
liad attached to their vote. The king was, moie-
ove.-, clothed with full jiower and authority to
n'press and amend all such errors, heri'sies, and
abuses as ' by any manner of spiritual authority
or jurisdiction ought or may lawfully be re-
formed.' Thus a visitatorial function of vast ex-
tent was recognized as belonging to him. In
1582 convocation was driven to engage not 'to
enact or iiromulge or jiiil in execution' any
measures without the royal license, and to jiromi'^e
to change or to abrogate anv of the 'provincial
constitutions ' which he should judge inconsistent
with his jirerogative. The clergy were thus
Ktrip|)ed of all power to make laws. A mixed
commission, which Parliaineni orduineil for the
revision of the whole canon law. was not ap-
pointed ill this reign. Thi' dissolution of the
king's marringc thus dis.solved the tmionof Eng-
land with th(! papacy."-— (i. P. Fisher, Jlintory of
tin- VhrUtitiii Clnin-h, prriodH. c/i. (!.
Also in: J. S. Ibcwer, y/ii: U<i<j)i of Ifmn/
VIII., r. 2, ch. 27-85.— J. A. Froude, ' //('.•</. vf
Kii'i., r. 1, rh. 2. — S. H. Hiirke, Hid. PurtntiU
of till I'liihir Di/iiiiKty.r. 1, ch. 8-25. — J. Lingard,
'lUxt. of KiKj.,' r. (J,V//. 3.— T. E. Hriilgett.'/.^Je
mill Wrltiiif/n of Sir T. M<>re.
A. D. 1529-1535. — The execution of Sir
Thomas More.— On the 25th of Octolxr, 15'2!).
the king, by delivering the grei^t seal to Sir
'i'liomas Slore, constituted him Lord Chancellor.
In making this appointment. Henry "lu^peil to
dispose hischancell(>rto lend his authority to the
projects of divorce and second marriage, which
now agitated tiie king's mind, and were the main
objects of his jKilicy. . . . To pursue this subject
through the long negotiations and discussions
which it occasioned during six years, would i)u
to lead us far from the life of sir Thomas ^lore.
. . . All these i)rocee('ings terminated in the sen-
tence of nullity ill the case of Henry's marriage
with Catherine, i)ronouneed by Cranmer, the es-
jiou.ial of Aime IJoleyn by the king, and the re
jectionof the jiajial jurisdiction by the kingdom,
which still, however, adhered to the doctrines ot
the Koman catholic church. The situation of
More during a great part of these memorable
events was embarrassing. The great ollices to
which he was raised by the king, the personal
favour hitherto constantly shown to him, and the
natural tendency of his gentle and quiet disposi-
tion, comliined to disincline liiin to resistance
a.irainst thi .vishes of his friendly master. On
tiie other hand, his growing dread and horror of
heresy, witii its train of disorders; his belief that
nnivi.'rsal ai„i-cliy would be the inevitable result
of religion' dissension, and the ojieration of seven
years' con roversy for the Catliolic church, in
heating his iiind on all subjects involving the ex-
tent of her uthority, macie him recoil from de-
signs which were visibly tending towards dis-
union, wi. ihe Koman jjontiir. . . . Henry used
every r.eans of i)rocuring an ojiinion favourable
to 1 :., wishes from his chancellor, who excused
hiiii.'.lf as unmeet forsuch matters, having never
professed the study of divinity. . . . But when
the jn'ogress towards the marriage was so far ad-
vanced that he saw how soon the active; co-opera-
tion of a chancellor must be recpiircd, he made
suit to 'his singular dear friend,' the duke of
Norfolk, to lU'ocure his discharge from thisollice.
The duke, often solicited by More, thee obtained,
l)y im])ortunate suit, a clear discharge for the
chancellor. . . . The king directed Norfolk, when
he installed his successor, to declare! i)iiblicly,
that his majesty had witli paiu yielded to the
l^rayers of sir Thomas More, by the removal of
sucii a ma.gistrate. ... It must be owned that
Henry felt the weight of this great man's opinion,
and tried every ]t >ssible means to obtain at least
the apiiearance of his spontaneous ajjprobation.
. . . The king . . . sent the archbishop of Can-
terbury, the chancellor, the duke of Norfolk, and
Cromwell, to attempt the conversion of More.
Audley reminded More of the king's special favour
and many benefits. More admitted them; but
modestly added, that his highness had most
graciously declared that ou this matter Mviv
should be molested no more. When in the end
they .s;i\y that no persuasion could move him, they
then saiil, 'that the king's highness had give'u
828
ENGLAND, 1529-1 5a5.
(li-iieith of thf
Church uf linylnnd.
ENGLAND, 1531-1563.
them in comnmntlinent, if tlicj' could by n<> gen-
tk'iies." win him, in tlio king's name with ingrati-
tu(h' to charge him, that never was servant to his
master so villainous, nor subject to his ju-ince so
traitorous as he.' . . . By a tyrannical edic^t, mis-
called a law, in the same session of 1533-4, it
was made high treason, after the 1st of 3Iay, 1534,
by writing, print, deed, or act, to do or to i)ro-
cure, or cause to l)e done or procured, anything
to the prejudice, slander, disturbance, or dCrog.-i-
tion of the king's lawful matrimony with (lueeii
Anne. If the same olTences were connnitted by
words, they were oidy nusprision. Th<' same act
enjoined ail per.soiis "to take an oath to maintain
the whoU^ conK-nts o*^ the statute, and an obsti-
nate refusal to make such oath was subjected to
the penalties of misprision. . . . Sir T. More was
sununoned to appear before these commissioners
tit Lambeth, on Monday the 13th of April, 1534.
. . . After having read the statute anil the form
of the oath, he declanMl his readiness to swear
that he woidd maintain and defend the order of
succession to the crown as estal)lished by parlia-
ment. He disclaimed all censure of those who
had imposed, or on those who had taken, the
oath, but declared it to bo impossible that he
should swear to the whole contents of it, without
offending against his own conscience. . . . lie
never more reiurned to his house, being comnut-
ted to the custody of the abbot of Westminster,
in which he continued four days; and at the end
of that time lie was conveyed to the Tower on
Friday the 17th of April, 1534. ... On the 6fh
of May, 1535, almost immediately after the defeat
of every attempt to practise on his tirnmess, More
was brought to trial at Westminster, and it will
scarcely be doubted, that no such culprit stood
at any European bar for a thousand years. . . .
It is lamentable that the records of the proceed-
ings against such a man should be scanty. We
do not certainly know the specific offence of
which he was convicted. . . . On Tuesday, the
6th of July (St. Thomas's eve), 1535, sir Thomas
Pope, 'his singular good friend,' came to him
early with a message from the king and council,
to say that he should die before nine o'clock of
the same morning. . . . The lieutenant brought
him to the scaffold, which was so weak that it
was ready to fall, on which he said, merrily,
' Master lieutenant, I pray you se(! mc safe up,
and for my coming down let me shift for myself. '
When he laid his head on the l)lock he desired
the executioner to wait till he had removed his
beard, for that had never offended his highness."
— Sir J. lyiackintosh, Sh- Thon. More (Cabinet
Cyclop. : Eminent Brifinh Statesmen, v. 1).
Also in: S. R. Gardiner, Iligtorical liiogra-
phiett, eh. 3. — T. E. Bridgctt, Life and Writinqa
of Sir Thomas More, eh. 12-34.— S. II. Burke,
Jlint. Portraits of the Tudor Dynasty, r. 1, eh. 2!).
A. D. 1531-1563.— The genesis of the Church
of England. — "Henry VIII. attempted to con-
stitute an Anglican Church differing from the
Roman Catholic Church on the point of the
su])remacy, and on that point alone. His success
in this attempt was extraordinary. The force of
his (!haracter, the singularly favorable situation
in which he stood with respect to foreign jiowers,
the immense wealth which the spoliation of th<!
abb?"ys placed at his disposal, and the support of
thatclass which still halteil between two opinions,
enabled him to bid defiance to l)oth the extn^mc;
parties, to burn us heretics those who avowed
56 g2
the tencN of the Informers, and to hang as
traitors those who o ned the aniliority of the
Pope. '.Jut Henry's ystemdied with him. Had
his life been i>rolonged, he wotdd have found it
dillicult to maintain a position assinled with equal
fury by all who were zealous either for the new
or for the old oi)inions. The mini.stcrs who held
the royal prerogatives in trust for his inf;int son
could not venture to persist in so hazardous a
jiolicy ; nor could Elizabeth venture to return to
it. It was necessary to make a choice. The
govermnent must either submit to Rome, or
must obtain the aid of the Protestants. The
government and the Protestants had only oni;
tiling in common, hatred of tin; Papal power.
The English reformers were eager to go as far as
their brethren on the Continent. They unani-
mously coudemned as Antichristian numerous
dogmas and iiractices to which Henry had stub-
bornly adhered, and which Elizalieth reluctantly
abandoned. Many felt a strong repugnance even
to things indifferent which had formed part
of the |iolity or ritual of the mystical Babylon.
Thus IJishop Hooper, who died manfully at
Gloucester for his ndigion, long refused to wear
the episcopal vestments. Bishop Ridley, a mar-
tyr of still greater renown, pulled down the
ancient altars of his diocese, and ordered the
Eucharist to be administered in the middle of
churches, at tallies which the Papists irreverently
termed oyster boards. Bishop Jewel pronounced
the clerical garb to be a stage dress, a . ool's coat,
a reliipie of the Amorites, and pronii.sed that he
would spare no labour to extirpate such degrad-
ing absurdities. Archbishop (irindal long hesi-
tated about accepting a mitre from dislike of
what he regarded as the mummery of consecra-
tion. Bishop Parkhurst uttered a fervent prayer
that the Church of England would propose to
herself the Church of Zurich as the absolute
jiattern of a Christian community. Bishop
Ponet was of o])inion that the word Bishop should
be abandoned to tiw. Pajii.st, and that tlie chief
oflieers of the jiuriiied church should be called
Superintendents. When it is considered that
none of these prelates belonged to the extreme
section of the Protestant party, it cannot be
doubted that, if the general .sense of that party
had been followed, the work of reform would
have been carried on as unsparingly in England
as in Scotland. But, as the government needed i
the support of the Protestants, so the Protestants I
needed the protection of the government. Much I
was theicfore given up on both sides: an union
was effected ; anil the fruit of that union was the
Church of England." — Lord ISIacaulay, Jlist. of
EiKj.. eh. 1. — "The Reformation in England was
singular amongst the great religious movements
of tilt; sixteenth century. It was the least heroic
of them all — the least swayed by religious pas-
sion, or moulded and governed by spiritual and
thi'ologicd necessities. From a general point of
view, it looks at first little more than a great
political change. The exigencies of royal pas-
sion, and the dubious impulses of statecraft,
seem its moving and really powerful springs.
But. regarded more closely, we recognise a sig-
nificant train both of religious and critical forces
at work. The lust and avarice of Henry, the
policy of Cromwell, and the vacillations of the
leading clergy, attract prominent notice; but
there may be traced beneath the surface a wide-
spread evangelical fervour amongst the people,
ENGLAND. 1531-1503.
TOe Monutteries.
ENGLAND, 153r)-1539.
I
«|i<l%«^ ^l<M
and, above all, a genuine Ri)iritual earnestness
and exritement of tliouiflit at the universiiies.
TheM! liiulicr iii(lii(iires preside at the tirst birth
of the niovcnieiit. Tliey are .see|i in aetive r.per-
atioii lonff li-font the re'forniin.ir liisli was talien
up by tiie Court and the lii.-lioiw."— .T. Tuiloeli,
Jiittioml Tluoli'ii) (lud Cliristi.tn I'ldhitophii in
Eitij. in the \it/i Cfidurii. r. 1, r/i. 2.— "Tlie
miserable fate of Anne IJoleyn wins our eom-
pashion, and the ^rreatness to whicii lierdauirhter
attained has been in some (h.u'rce rellected Itaek
ujKin lierself. Had s he died a natural death, and
had she not been tlie niotlierof (iui'cn EJizalx'tli.
we should liave eslinialed lier eiianieler at a very
low value indi.eil. Protestantism ndglit still,
with its usual unliislorieal ji.irti/.insidp, liave
gilded over lier inunoralities; l)Ut tlie Cliureli (>f
England must, ever loolv upon Anne Holeyn with
downeast eyes full of sorrow and shanu-. I5y
the inlluenee of her charms, Henry was indueed
to talie those steps winch ended'in setting the
Church of England free from an uncatholic yoke:
but that s\ich a result should b(! produced by
such an inlluenee is a fact whicli must constrain
us to think that the land was guilty of many
sius, and tliat it was these national sins which
prevented better instruments from being raised
up for so righteous an object." — J. H. 151unt,
27//; liefoniKitionof the Church of Kn(jliin<i, pp.
197-198. — "Cranmer's work niiglit never have
been carried out, there might have been no Eng-
lish Bible, no Ten Articles or 'Institunon,' no
ntfonning I'rimers, nor Proclaniati<'ns against
Ceremonies, had it not been for the tact, bold-
ness and skill of Thomas Crumwell, wlio intlu-
eneed the King more directly and constantly'
than CVanmer, and who knew how to make his
Influence aceeptid)le by an unprincii)led confisca-
tion and an absurd exaggeration of the royal
supremacy. Crumwell knew that in his masters
he rt there was a dislike and coutemi)t of the
cli y. . . . ItisprobablethatCrumwell'spoliey
was simply irreligious, and only directed towards
preserving his inlluenee with the King; but as
the support of the reforming part of the nalioti
was a useful factor in it, he was thus od to push
forward religious information in conjunction
with Crannier. It has been before siud tliat
purity and disinterestedness are not to be looked
for in a]l the actors in the English Reformation.
To this'it may be added that neither in the move-
ment itself nor in those who took part in it is to
be found complete consistency. Tins, indeed, is
not to be wondered at. Men were feeling tlieir
Avay along untrodden paths, without any very
clear perception of the end at which they were
aiming, or any perfect imderstanding of the
situation. The King had altogether nnsappre-
hended the meaning of his 8ui)remacy. A host
of divines whose views as to tlie distmction be-
tween the secular and the spiritual had been con-
fusi'd by the action of the Popes, helped to mis-
lead him. The clergy, accustomed to be crushed
and humiliated by the Popes, submitted to be
crushed and humiliated by the King; and as tlie
tide of his autocratic temjier ebbed and flowed,
yielded to each change, lience tliere was action
and reaction throughout the reiga. But in tliis
there were obvious advantages for the Church.
The gradual process aecustometl men's thoughts
to a reformation which should not be drastic or
iconiK-laslic, but nither conservative and deliber-
ate."— G. G. Perry, lli»t. of the Reformation in
Kiiij., ch. '). — "With regard to the Church of
Kngland, its foundations rest u])on the rock of
Sciijiture, not upon the character of the King by
wiioiu tliey were laid. Tiiis, however, must be
allirin((l in justice to Henry, that mixed as the
motive's were wiiieh lirst induced Idiu to disclaim
the Pope's aulliority, in all the subseqiienl nieas
ures he acted sincerely, knowing the importance
of the work in wliich he had eiigagetl, and prose-
cuting' it sedulously and conscientiously, even
when most erroneous. That religion should
have had so little inlluenee upon his moral con-
duct will not ajipear strange, if we consider
what the religion was wherein he was trained
up; — nor if we look at the generality of men
even now, under ( Ircumstances imme.isurably
more fort unaU- than tiiose in wliicli he was placed.
Undeniable proofs remain of the learning, ability,
and diligence, willi v.'hich he applied himself to
the great business of weeding out superstition,
and yet preserving what he believed to be the
essi'Utials of Christianity untouched. This ])raise
(and it is no light one) is his due : and it is our
jiart to be thankful to tliat all-ruling Providence,
which rendered even his passions and his vices
subservient to this importantend." — H. Southey,
The Hook of the Chureh, eh. Vi.
A. D. 1535-1539. — The suppression of the
Monasteries. — "The enormous, and in a great
measure ill-gotten, opulence of the regular clergy
had long since excited jealousy in every jiart of
Europe. ... A writer much inclined to pai-
tiality towards the monasteries says that they
held [in EnglaudJ one-lifth part of the kingdom;
no insignilicant patrimony. . . . As they were
in general exempted from episcopal visitation,
and intrusted with the care of their own disci-
pline, such abuses had gradually prevailed and
gained strength by connivance as we may natu-
rall}' expect in corporate bodies of men leading
almost of necessity useless and indolent lives,
and in whom very indistinct views of moral ob-
ligaticjus were combined with a great facility of
violating them. The vices that for many ages
had been supposed to haunt the monasteries, had
certainly not left their jirecincts in that of Henry
VHL Wolsey, as papal legate, at the in.stiga-
tion of Fox, bishop of Hereford, a favourer of
the Beformation, commenced a visitation of the
profes,sed as well as seculr.r clergy ia 1523, in
consequence of the general comijlaint against
their manners. . . . Full of anxious zeal for
promoting education, the noblest part of his
character, lie obtained bulls from Rome sup-
pressing many convents (among which was that
of St. Fridesvvide at Oxford), in order to erect
and endow a new college in that university, his
favourite work, which after his fall was more
completely established by the name of Christ
Church. A few more were afterwards extin-
guished through his instigation; and thus the
prejudice against interference with this species
of property was somewhat worn off, and men's
minds gradually prepared for the sweeping con-
flseations of Cromwell [Thomas Cromwell, who
succeeded AVolsey as chief minister of Henry
VHI.]. The king indeed was abunda? 'ly willing
to replenish his exchequer by violei t means,
and to avenge himself on those who g tinsayed
his supremacy ; but it was this able s. desitian
who, prompted both by the natural aj^, etite of
ministers for the subjects' money and by i secret
partiality towards the Reformation, de> .sed and
830
ENGLAND, 1535-1339.
.4niiP Rolei/n
and hey Succvanors.
ENGLAND. 1536-1543.
carried on with complotp succps.s, if not witli tlio
utmost iinidcncc, a nicasnrc of no inconsidovaMc
hazard iid dilliculty. . . . It was ni'ci's.sary. In-
exposing tlic gross corrni)ti()ns of monasteries,
botii to intimidate tlie reirnlar eiergj-, and to
exeite popular indignation against tlieni. It
is not to l)e doubted that in the visitation of
these foundations, under the direetion of Cnmi-
well, ns lord vice-gercut of tht! king's eeele.sias-
tical supreniaey, many tlungs were done in an
arbitrary maimer, and mueh was unfairly repre-
sented. Y(!t the rejtorts of these \isitorsare so
minute and specifie that it is rather a prepos-
teroirs degree of ineredulity to rejeet their testi-
mony whenever it bears liard on the regulars.
. . . The dread of these /isitoi-s soon iuilueed a
number of abbots to make surrenders to tlic
king; a step of very (piestionable legality. Hut
in the next session the smaller eonvents, wliose
revenues were less than £2W) a year, wen; sup-
pressed by aet of i)arliament, to the number of
370, and their estates vested in the erown. This
summary spoliation led to the great nortliern re-
l)ellion soon afterwards," headed by Kot)ert
Ask, a gentleman of Yorkshire, and assuming
the title of a Pik'rimage of Graee. — II. Ilallam,
Conxt. Hist, of £'i)f/., ch. 2.— "Far from l)eiie(it-
ing the cause of the monastic liouses, tlie im-
mediate elfeet of the Pilgrimage of Grace was to
bring ruin on those monasteries whieli had as
yet been spared. For tlieir comi)licity or alleged
complicity in it, twelve abbots were hanged,
drawn and quartered, and their houses were
seized by the Crown. Every means was em-
ployed by a new set of Commissicmera to bring
about the surrender of others of the greater ab-
beys. The liouses were visited, and their pre-
tended relics and various tricks to encourage the
devotion of tlie people were exposed. Sur-
renders went rapidly on during the years 1537
and 1538, and it became necessary to obtain a
new Act of Parliament to vest tlie property of
the later surrenders in the Crown. . . . Nothing,
indeed, can be more tragical than the way in
which the greater abbeys were destroyed on
manufactured charges and for imaginary crimes.
These houses had been descril)ed in the tirst Act
of Parliament as ' great and honourable,' wherein
'religion was right well kept and observed.'
Yet now they were pitilessly destroyed. A rcve-
nne of about £131,607 is comjiuted to have
thus come to the Crown, while the movables are
valued at £400,000. How was this vast sum of
money expended? (1) By the Act for the sup-
pression of the greater monasteries the King was
empowered to erect six new sees, with their
deans and chapters, namely, AVestminster, Ox-
ford, Chester, Gloucester, Bristol and Peterbor-
ougli. ... (2) Some monasteries were turned
into collegiate churches, and many of the ab-
bey churches . . . were assigned as parish
churches. (3) Some grammar schools were
erected. (4) A considerable sum is said to have
been spent in making roads and in fortifying the
coasts of the Channel. (5) But by far the greater
part of the monastic property passed into the
hands, of the nobility and gentry, cither by pur-
chase at very easy rates, or by direct gift from
the Crown. . . . The monks and nuns ejected
from the monasteries liad small pensions assigned
to them, which are said to have been regularly
!)aid ; but to many of them the sudden return
nto a w^orld with which they had become utterly
unactpiainted, and in which they had no jiart to
play, was a icrril)li' hardship, . . . greatly in-
creased by the Six. Article Law. 'viiicii . . .
made the marriage of the .'secularize- 1 ' rcliirious'
illegal under heavy jieiialties." — G. (i. Perry,
Jlint. of the Ihfonihitidii in h'li/j., ch. 4. — "The
religious Ijodies, instead of uniting in their com-
mon defence, seem to havi; awaited singly their
fate with the ajiatliy of desjiair. A few houses
only, through tlie agency of Iheir friends, sought
to iiurchase tiu^ loyal favour with oilers of
money and lamls; but the rapacity of the king
refused to a<eept a part wIk ii the whole was at
his mercy." — ,1. Lingard, lliM. of Hiaj., r. (J,
(7/. 4. — Some of th(> social results of the sujjpri's-
siou " may be summed up in a few words. Tiu;
iTeatioii of a large class of poor to whose jiovcrty
was attached the stigma of crime; the division
of class from class, the rich mounting up to
jdaee and power, tin; jioor sinking to lower
depths; destruction of custom as a elieek upon
the exactions of landlords; the loss by tlie poor
of those foun(latioi:s at schools aud universities
intended for their children, and the passing. a way
of ecclesiastical tithes into the liands of lay
owners." — F. A. Gas'iuet, JLiiri/ Vllf. aid the
Eii'jlish ^fiiiniMcriiK, c. 2, />. 523.
A. D. 1536-1543. — Trial and execution of
Anne Boleyn.— Her successors, the later wives
of Henry VIII. — Anne Boleyn had been .secretly
married'to the king in January, 1533, and had
been crowned on "Whitsunday of that year.
"The princess Elizabeth, the only surviving
child, was born on the 7th of September following.
. . . The death of Catherine, which ha])pene(l at
Kimliolion on the 2'Jth of January, 1530, seemed
to leave (pieen Anne in undisturbed possession
of her splendid seat." But the tickle king had
now "cast his alleetions on Jane Seymour, the
daughter of Sir Jolin Seymour, a young lady
then of the Queen's bed-chamber, as Anne her-
self hail been in that of Catherine." Having
lost her charms in the eyes of the lustful despot
wlio had wedded her, her iulluence was gone —
and her safety. Charges were soon brought
against the unfortunate woman, a commission
(her own father included in it) appointed to iii-
(piire into her alleged misdeeds, and "on the
lOlli of ;May an indictment for high treason
was found by the grand jury of Westminster
against the Lady Anne, Queen of England ;
lienry Norris, groom of the stole; Sir Francis
Weston and WilUam Brereton, gentlemen of
the privy chamber; and Mark Snieaton, a pt r-
fornier on musical instruments, and a person of
low degree,' promoted to be a groom of the cliam-
berfor his skill in the tine art wliijh lie profes.sed.
It charges the (pieen with having, by all sorts of
l)rii)es, gifts, caresses, and ini])ure blandishments,
which are deseriiied with unblushing coarseness
in the barbarous Latinity of the indictment,
allured these members of the royal household
into a course of criminal connection with her,
which had lieen carried on for three years. It
included also George Boleyn viscount Uochford,
the brother of Anne, as enticed by the same lures
and snares with the rest of the accused, so as to
have become the accomplice of his sister, by
sharing her treachery and infldelity to the king.
It is hard to believe that Anne could have dared
to lead a life so unnaturally dissolute, witliout
such vices being more early and very generally
known in a watchful and adverse court. It is
881
ENGLAND. irj3fl-ir>43.
The Six Article*.
P:N GLAND, 1547-1553.
Btill more iiuprDbalilo tlmt she sJioiild in every
instaiKc tie tlie seducer. . . . Norris. Weston.
IJrcretdii, uiid .Snieuton were tried l-cfore a eom-
inissinii (if over iiiid terminer at Westniinsler.
on III!' l-'tli'of May, two days after tlie liill
uLNiinst tlieni was foniKl. They all, exeejit Sinea-
lon, lirndy denied their izuUl U> tlii' hist moment.
On Snieaton's eonf(Ssion it must heoliservcd tliat
we l<ii(iw not how it was olitained. liow far it cx-
1eiici(d. or wliat were tlie conditions of it. . . .
On the Vl\U of May, the four commoners were
condemned to die. " Their setitence was carried
intoelfect amid.sl the plaints of tlie bystanders.
. . On the l.")th of May, (|ueen Anne and her
brother Hochford w.Te "tried." The jilaee of
trial was in the Tower, "which concealed fron:
the public eye whatever misrht be wantin;; in
justice." ('(indemnatii n duly followed, and the
unhapiiy ()Ueen was executed May 10, l."):!(). The
kiiii: lost littl(! tim(! in weddinu^ .bine Seymour.
'• .Slie died in childbed of Edward VI. on the loth
of October, l.'^iT. Tin; next choice- m;uU' by or
for Henry, who remained a widower for the
period of more than twoyears," wastlie " princess
Anne, sister of the diiko of ("leves, a considerable
prince on the lower Uliine. . . . The pencil of
Jlolbein was emi)loyed to paint this lady for the
kinir, who, pleased by the execution, pive the
flattering artist credit for a faithful likeness. He
met her at Dover, and almost immediately be-
trayed his disa])pointment. Without descending
into disgusting particulars, it is necessiiry to slate
that, though the marriage was solemnised, the
king treated tin; iirincess of ("leves as a frie.nd."
At ien-rth, by common action of an obsecjuious
parliament and a more obse(|uious convocation
of the church, the marriage was declared to be
annullt d. for reasons not specilled. The consent
of the repudiated wif{.' was "insured by a lilieral
income of .t"J,((00 a year, and she lived for IC
years in Kngland with the title of jirincess Anne
nfCIeves, . . . This annulment once more dis-
played the triumph of an English lady over a
foreign princess." The lady who now ca])tivated
the brutally amorous monarch was lady C'atlieriiu!
Howard, niece to the duke of Norfolk, who be-
came queen on the Hth of August, ir)4((. In the
following Novemb..'r, the king received such in-
formation of lady Catherine's di;!soluto life before
marriage "as immediately cause(' a rigid inquiry
into her behaviour. . . . Tlu confe.ssions <)f
Catherine and of lady Itochford, upon which
they were attainted in parliament, and execited
in tlie Tower on the Hth of February, are not
xM to have been at anv time ijuestioned. . . .
On the lUth of .Inly, 154";), Henry wedded Cathe-
rine Parr, the w idow of Lord Latimer, a lady of
mature aiie," who survived him. — Sir J. ^lackin-
tosh. JliKl. of Ehf;. (/,. r. v.). r. 3, rh. 7-8.
Auso IN: P. Friedmann, Anne IMti/n. — II. W.
Herbert. Memoirs of Henry VIIT. and UU Six
117 /'<■.•(.
A. D. 1539.— The Reformation checked. —
The Six Articles.—" Yielding to the lur.ssure
of circumstances, he [Henry VllL] had allowed
the Keformers to go further than he really ap-
proved. The sejiaration from the Church of
Home, the absorption by the Crown of the jiowers
of the Pai)acy, the unity of authority over Iwth
Church and State centred in himself, had been
liis objects. In doctrinal matters lie clung to the
Church of wi-.ieh he had once been the champion.
He had gained Lis objects because he had the
feeling of the nation with him. In his eagerness
he had even countenanced some steps of dcx^tritial
reform. Hut circumstances had changi'd. . . .
Without de'rinicntto his ])osition he could follow
his natural indination.s. He listened, therefore,
to the advice of the reactionary party, of which
Norfolk was the head. They were full of bitter-
ness against th(,' U])start Cromwell, gnd Ic.iged to
overthrow him .as they had overthrow!- Wolsey.
The llrst step in their triumph was the bill of the
:x Articles, carried in the Parliament of 153!).
1 hese laid down and fenced round with extra-
ordinary severity the chief points of the Catholic
religion at that time (juestioned by tin; Protest-
ants. The bill enacted, lirst, 'that the natural
body and blood of Jesus Christ were present in
the IJlessed Sacrament,' iuid that ' after consecra-
tion there remained no stdistaiiee of bread and
wine, nor any oilier but the substance of Christ ';
whoever, by "word or writing, d(;nied this article
was a heretic, and to be burned. Secondly, the
C'ommunion in both kinds was not necessarj', both
l)ody and blood being ])vesent in eacli element;
thirilly, priests might not marry; fcnirthly, vows
(jf chastity by man or woman ought to be ob-
served; tifthly, i)rivate masses ought to be con-
tinued; sixthly, auricular confession must be re-
tained. Whoever wrote or sjioke against these
. . . Articles, on the first oirence his property was
f )rfeited; on the second ofTcncie he was a felon,
ind was put to death. I'nder this ' whip with
â– si.v strings' the kingdom continued for the rest
of the reign. The Bishops at lirst made wild
work with it. Five hundred persons are said to
have been arrested in a fortnight; the Ling had
twice to interfere and grant pardons. It is be-
lieved that only twenty-eight jiersons actually
sullered death under it." — J. F. Bright, Hist, of
Eng., V. 2, p. 411.
Also IN: J. II. Blunt, llcformation of the Ch.
of Eiif/., V. 1, rh. 8-!). — S. II. Burke, ^fcn and
WtniK n (f t/ie Eu;/. J!( formation, r. 2, pp. 17-24.
A. D. 1542-1547.— Alliance with Charles V.
against Francis I. — Capture and restoration of
Boulogne.— Treaty of Guines. See Fh.ynce;
A. I). lo:32-l,-)47.
A. D. 1544-1548.— The vooing of Mary
Queen of Scots. See Scotl..ad: A. 1). 1544-
154S.
A. D. 1547. — Accession of King Edward VI.
A. D. 1547-1553.— The completing of the
Reformation. — Tienry VIlL, dying on the 2Sth
of January, 1.>I7, was succeeded by Ids son Ed-
ward. — ciiild of Jane Seymour. — then only nine
years old. By the will of his father, the yoimg
king (Edward YI.) was to attain his majority at
eighteen, and the government of his kingdom, in
the meantime, was entrusted to a body of sixteen
executoi-s, with a second body of twelve coun-
cillors to assist with their advice. "But the first,
act of the executors and counsellors was to de-
part from the destination of the late king in a
mati'rial article. No sooner were they met, than
it was suggested that the government would lose
its dignity for want of some head who might
represent the royal majesty." The suggestion
was opposed by none except tlie chancellor,
Wriothesley, — .soon afterwards raised to the
peonige as Earl of Southampton. "It being
thereiore agreed to name a protector, the choice
fell of Cv^urse ou the Earl of Hertfonl [afterwards
Uuke of Somerset], who, as he was the king's
nmterual uncle, was strongly interested in his
832
ENGLAND, 1547-1553.
Kdwarrl VI. nud
the Ke/ormed Church.
ENGLAND, 1553.
safety." The protector soon manifested an am-
bition to exercise his almost royal authority with-
out any constraint, and, having found means to
remove his principal opponent, Southampton,
from the chancellorsliip, anil to send him into
disgrace, he procured a ])atcnt from the infant
king wiiicli gave him unbounded power. With
this power iu liis liand lie speedily undertook to
carry the work of churcli reform far beyond the
intentions of Henry V'lll. "The extensive au-
thority and imperious character of Henry had
retained the partisans of both religions in sul)-
iection; but upon his demise, the hopes of thi;
'rotestants, and the fears of the Catholics began
to revive, and the zeal of these jiarties ])roduce(l
every where disputes and animosities, the usual
preludes to more fatal divisions. The protector
had long b rn regarded as a secret jiartisan of the
reformers; and being now freed from restraint,
he scrupled not to discover his intention of cor-
recting all abuses iu the ancient religion, and of
adopting still more of the Protestant innovations.
He took care that all jier.sons intrusted with the
king's eduealion should be attached to the same
Iiriuciples; and as the young jjrince discovered
a zeal for every kind of literature, especially the
theological, far beyond his tender years, all men
foresaw, in the course of his reign, the total abo-
lition of liie Catholic faith in J2ngland; and they
early began to declan; themselves in favour of
those tenets which were likely to become in the
end entirely prevalent. After Southhampton's
fall, few members of the council seemed to retain
any attachment to the Romish conununion ; and
most of the counsellors aijpcared even sanguine
in forwarding the progress of the reformation.
I The riches which most of them had acriuired
I from the spoils of the clergy, induced them to
widen the breach between England and Rome;
and by establishing a contrariety of speculative
tenets, as well as of discipline and worship, to
render a coalition with the mother church alto-
gether impracticable. Their rapacity, also, the
chief source of their reforndng spirit, was excited
by the prospect of pillaging the secular, as they
had already done the regular clergy; and they
knew, that while any share of the old principles
remained, or any regard to the ecclesiastics they
could never hope to succeed in that enter irise.
The numerous and burdensome Superst.tions
with which the Romish church was loaded had
thrown many of the reformers, by the spirii of
opposition, into an enthusiastic strain of devo
tion; and all rites, ceremonies, pomp, order, and
extreme observances were zealously proscribed
by them, as hindrances to their spiritual contem-
plations, and obstructions to their innnediate con-
verse with heaven." — D. Hume, Hist, of Enrj.,
V. 3, ch. 34. — " 'This year' [1547] says a con-
temporary, 'the Archbishop of Canterbury [Cran-
mer] did eat meat openly in Lent in the hall of
Lambeth, the like of which was never sxen since
England was a Christian countrj'.' iliis sigiii'l-
cant act was followed by a rapid succession of
sweei)ing changes. The legal prohibitions of
LoUarelry were removed; the Six Articles were
repealed; a royal injunction removed all pictures
and images from the churches; priests were per-
mitted to marry ; the new commuuu;!i which had
taken the place of the mass was ordered to be
administered in both kind.j, and in the English
tongue; an English Book of Common Prayer,
the Liturgy, which wiih slight alterations is still
used in the Church of England, replaced the
missal and breviary, from which its contents are
maiidy drawn; a new catechism embodied the
doctrines of Craiuuerand his friends; and a Hook
of Homilies com[)iled in \hv same sense was ap-
pointed to be read in churches. . . .Thcpowerof
l)reaching was restrieti'd by the issue of licenses
only to the friends of the Primate. . . . The
assent of the nobles about the Court was won by
the suppression of chantries and religious guilds,
and by irlutting their greeii with the last spoils
of the Church, t' rnian and Italian mercenaries
were introduce<l to stanij) out th(- wider popular
discontent which brok(! out in the East, in the
West, and iu the Midland <'(iunties. . . . The
rule of the upstart nobk'S who formeil the C^oun-
cil of Regency heeame sinqily a rule of terror.
'The greater part of the people,' one of their
c c-atures, Cecil, avowed, 'is not in favour of
defending this cause, I it of aiiiing its adversa-
ries, Mie greater part of the nobles who absent
Ihcmsv'Ives from eourt, all the bishops save three
or fou", almost all the Judges an<l lawyers,
almost all the justices of the [leace, the priests
who can move their thicks any way; for the
whole of tl ! conunonalty is in such a state
of irritiUion that it will easily follow any stir
towards change.' But with their triump'i over
the revolt, Cranmer and his colleagues advanced
yet more boldly in thecareer of imiovation. . . .
The Forty-two Articles of Religion, which were
now [lo5'2] introduced, though since rf.'dueed by
onnssions to thirty -i.Mic, have remained to this
day the forinal standard of doctrine in the
Engli.sh Church. '—J. H. Green, /Short Hist, of
the Eiif/. People, ch. 7, sect. 1.
Also IN: J. Strype, Memorials of Cranmer, bk.
2.— G. Burnet. Hist, of the lief of Ch. ofEnf/., v.
3, W-. 1.— L. Von Rankc, Hist, of Eng., bk. 2,
ch. C.
A. D. 1548. — First Act for encouragement
of Newfoundland fisheries. Sec Newkound-
l.vnd: a. 1). 1';Gi-loT8.
A. D. iSEi' — The right of succession to the
throne, o-i the death of Edward VL — "If
Henry V/I. be considered as t.'j stock of a new
dynasty, it is clear that on mere principles of
hereditary right, the crown would descend, first,
to the issue of Ilenry VIII. ; secondly, to those
of [his elder sister] Mar^ ret Tudor, queen of
Scots; thirdly, to those ot [his younger sister]
Mary Tudor, queen of Frai.ce. The title of Ed-
ward, was on all principles equally undisputed;
out Ulary and Elizabeth might be considered as
k. . iudcd by the sentence of nullity, Avhich had
been pronounced in the case of Catharine and in
that of Anne Boleyn, both which sentences had
been contirmed in parliament. They had been
expressl}'^ pronounce 1 to be illegitimate children.
Their hereditary right of succession seemed thus
to be taken away and their pretensions rested
solely on the conditional settlement of the crown
on them, made by their father's will, in pursu-
ance V ' authci'ity granted to him by act of par-
liament. Vfter Elizabeth Henry had placed the
descendant, if 3Iary. (jucen of France, passing
by the pr</gi v of his eldest sister Margaret.
Mary of Fra^ice, by her second marriage with
Charles Brajilon, duke of Suffolk, had two
daughters, — lady Frances, who weddeil Henry
Grey, manpiis of Dorset, created duke of Suf-
folk; and lady Elinor, who espoused Henry
Clifford, earl of Cumberland. Henry afterwards
838
E!?GLAND. l.VW.
Quern Mary.
ENGLAND, 1555-1558.
Hfltlcii llu! rrown bv h\n will on tin; liclm of these
two ladii'H siucessivt'ly, imHwiiii; ovrr his nieces
UieiiiHclvcsin tiilenre. N.)rtin^Milierliinii oliluineil
tlie Imn.i of ladv .Iiine (Jrev, liic eliit'Nt (liuifrliter
of Orev <liJke of SiilTulk. by lady Frances Hran-
don, for lord (Juilford Dudlev, the admiriirH sou.
The inurriat'e was Holeninised in May, Kt^i'i, and
the fatal rii,'lit of Hiiccessiou claimed by the
houwof SiilTolk devolved on the excellent and
unfortunate lady .lane."— Sir J. Mackintosh, //(*-
ton/ i>t fui'/l'inil. r. L*, rh. ».
A. D. 1553.— Accession of Queen Mary.
A. D. 1553.— The doubtful conflict of relig-
ions.- "(Jreal a.x was the nunihtrof those whom
conviction or self interest enlisted under the Prot-
estant Imimcr, it apjwars i)lain tliat the I{ef<M--
ination moved on with too precipitate a itci) for
the majority. The r.ew doctrines prevai'.'d in
I^nidon, in "many lar^re towns, and in the eastern
counties. ]5ut in the north and west of Eng-
land, the Ixxly of the people were strictly Catho-
lics. The clergy, though not very .scrupulous
uhoul ••onforminu to the iimovatiohs, were jjen-
crally averse to most of them. And, in spite of
the church lands, 1 imagint; that most of the
iiohility, if not the >,'entry, inclined to the simc
pi'rsuasion. ... An historian, whose l)''is was
certainly not unfavourable to i)rotestantisni
[Ilurnet, iii. 190, li«5) confesses that all endeav-
ours wert! too weak to overcome the aversion of
tlu! jx'ople towards reformation, and even inti-
mates that (ierman troops were sent for from
Calais on account of the i)igotry with which tlic
btilk of the nation adhered to the old supersti-
tion. This is somewhat an humiliatinir admis-
sion, that the protcstant faith was imposed upon
our ancestors by a foreign army. ... It is cer-
tain that the re-establishment of jjopt'ry on
M'lry's accession must have been acceptable to 11
large part, or perhaps to the majority, of the na-
tion."— H. Hallam, Count. Hist, of En;/., r. 1, ch.
2. — "Eight weeks and tipwurds passed between
the proclaiming of Mary (lueeii and the Parlia-
nu'nt by her assembled ; during which time two
religions were together set on foot, Protestant-
ism and Popery; the former hoping to be con-
tinued, the hitter labouring to be restored. . . .
No small justling was there betwixt the zealous
promoters of these contrary religions. The Prot-
estants had possession on their side, and the pro-
tection of the laws lately' made by King Edward,
and still sUmding in free and full force imrepeaU.'d.
. . . The I'jipists put their c(!remonies iu execu-
tion, presmning on the (jueen's j)rivate practice
and p\iblic countenance. . . . Jlany which were
neuters before, (-onceiving to which side the
(jueeii inclined, wouUl not expect, but jirevent
her authority iu alteration: so that superstition
generally got ground in the kingdom. Thus it
is in the evening twilight, wherein light and
darkness at tirst nuiy seem very equally matched,
but the latter within little time doth solely pre-
vail."— T. Fuller, Church llist. of Britain, hk. 8,
ttect. 1, •- 5.
Also in : J. II. Blunt, lieformation of the Ch.
of Kii(!., r. \, ch. 8-i).
A. D. 1554.— Wyat's Insurrection.— Queen
Mary's marriage with Philip of Spain was op-
posed with gR'at bitterness of j)opular feeling,
08i)ecially in London and its neighborhood. Ris-
ings were undertaken in Kent.' Devonshire, and
the Midlaud counties, iutuuded for the frustra-
tiou of the marriage scheme ; but they were ill-
phmncd and soon suppressed. That in Kent,
led by .Sir Thomas Wyat, threatened to be for-
miilablc at lirst, and the (Juecn's troops retreated
before it. Wyat, however, li>st his opportunity
fur .securing London, by delays, and his followei-s
disj)er.s«'d. lie was taken prLsimernnd cxccutt'd.
"Four hundred persons arc .said to have suf
fered for this rebellion."— I). Hume, Hist, of
h'lif/., ch. :in.
A. D. 1555-1558. — The restoration of Roman-
ism. — The persecution of Protestants by
Queen Mary. — " .\n attemjit was made, by au
thority of King l^dward's will, to set aside both
his sisters from the succession, ami raise Lady
.lan(( CJrcy to the throne, who had lately been
married to one of Northumberland's sons. This
was Northumberland's doing; Iu; was actuated
by ambition, and the other members of the gov-
ernment assented to it, believing, like tlu; late
young King, that it was neccs.sary for the pre-
servation oil' the Protestant faith. Cnininer op-
posed the measure, but yielded. . . . But the
principles of succession were iu fact well ascer-
tained at that time and, what was of more con-
se(|uencc, they were established iu public opinion.
Nor could the intended change be supported on
the ground of religion, for pojjvdar feeling was
decidedly against the Ueformation. Qui'cn Mar}'
obtained possession of her rightful throne with-
out the loss of a single life, so comph'telv did the
naticm acknowledge her claim; and „>: *'ter in-
siuTcction, rashly planned and won,( •■• i'lcted,
served onl}' to hasten the dcstructio )i tlie Lady
.lane and her husband. ... If an^ tt- . ,un nmy
be excused for hating the Reformi.tioTi, it was
,Mary. She regarded it as L .ving arisei. iu tliis
<'ountry from her mother's wnmgs, and enabled
the Kiiig to complete an inicpiitous and cruel
divorce. It had exposed her to inconvenience,
and even danger, under her father's reign, to
vexation and restraint imder lier brother; and,
after having been bastardized iu consetpience of
it, . . . an attempt had been made to deprive her
of the inheritance, l)ecause she continued to pro-
fess the Uoman Catholic faith. . . . Had the re-
ligion of the country been settled, she might
have proved a good and benelicent, as well as
conscientious, queen. But she delivered her con-
science to the direction of cruel men; and, be-
lieving it her duty to act up to the worst prin-
ciples of a i)ersecuting Church, boasted that she
was a virgin sent by God to ride and tame the
jicople of England. . . . The people did not
wait till the laws of King Edward were repealed;
the Romish doctrines were preached, and in some
places the Romish clergy took iK)sses.si(m of the
churches, turned out the incumbents, and per-
formed mass in jubilant anticipation of their ap-
proaching t riumi)h. What course the new Queen
would pursue had never been doubtful ; and as
one of her first acts had been to make Gardiner
Chancellor, it was evident that a tiery persecu-
tion was at hand. 3Iany wlio were obnoxious
withdrew in time, some into Scotland, and more
into Switzerland and the Protestiiut parts of
Germany. Cranmer advjsed others to fly; but
when his friends entreated him to preserve him-
self by the like precaution, he replied, that it was
not fitting for him to desert his post. . . . The
Protestant Bisiiops were soon disiwssesscd of
their sees; the marriages which the Clergy and
Religioners had contracted were declared unlaw-
ful, and their children bastardized. The heads
834
1;
ENGLAND. in-Wl^SH.
Queen Elizabeth.
ENOLAND. m.W-l.lHS.
of the n-forincd Clorpy, Imvinjj been brouiilit,
forth to liold (lispntaliuns, fortlic imrpoHc nithir
of iiitiiiiiihitiiii; Ihiin of coiivinciiiLr tliciu, hud
been ('()iiiiiiitt('(| to dilVcrcnt ])iisoii«, and after
tli«'S(' iircjiaratorics tlic licrv iirnccsH bciraii." — H.
J^oiitluT, lic'ik iif till' Chinrh, rh. 14. — "Tho total
iiumlicr of t'losc who siilTcrcd in this persecution,
from tlie martyrdom of Jtotrers. in Feliniary,
IT).");"), to Se,)teml)er, ITmH, wlien its hist ravages
were feh, is variously related, in a inann4T suf-
liciently dilTerent to assurt; us that the rehiters
were indein'ndent witnesses, who did not horrow
from each other, and yet sufVieiently near tout-
test the jreneral ae<'uraey of their distinct state-
ments. IJy Cooper they arc estimiited iit ai)out
'J!)(». AccoVdinifto liiiriiettliey were 284. Wpccd
calculates thcni at i2T4. TIk? most arcurat(i ac-
count is probaldy that of l>ord Burleigh, who,
in his treatise called 'The Kxecution of Justice
in Knj^land," reckons the number of those who
died in that rcigii by imprisonment, torments,
famine and fire, to be near 400, of which those
who were burnt alive amounted to 290. From
Burnet's Tables of the separate years, it is ap-
f)arent that th(! persecution reached its full force
n its earliest year. " — Sir J. .Mackintosh, llixt. of
En;/., V. 2, r'/i. 11. — "'!'hou<rh Pole and Mary
could have laid their hands on earl and baron,
knifrht and ^'entleman, whose heresy was no-
torious, nlthouifh, in the (|ueen'.s own guard,
there were many who never listened to ii mass,
theydur.st not strike where there was danger that
they woidd be struck in return. . . . They took
the weaver from his loom, the carpenter from
his workshop, the husbaiximan from his ]ilough;
they laid hands on maidens and boys 'who liad
never heard of any other religion than that which
they were called on to abjure'; old men totter-
ing into the grave, and chiidren whose lips could
but just lisp the articles of their creed; and of
these they made their burnt-oirerings; with these
they crowded their jirisons, and wlien tilth and
famine killed them, they Hung them out to rot."
—J. A. Fnmde, Jlist. of En<i., rh. 24. — Queen
Mary's marriage with Philip of Spain and his
arbitrarj' disposition, " while it thoroughly alien-
ated the kingdom from ^lary, createtl a prejudice
against tlu; religion which the Spanish court so
steadily favoured. . . . Many arc said to hav.e
become Protestants under Mary who, at her
coming to the throne, had retained the contrary
pers\iasion. " — II. Ilallam, Const. Hist, of Eiiq.,
V. 1, ch. 2.
Also in : J. Collier, EeclcMmticnl Hint, of Gt.
R, pt. 2, hk. 5.— .1. Lingard, Jftst. of Eiifj., r. 7,
ch. 2-3.— J. Fox, J}ook of Martiirs.—W llcylyn,
Ecclemi litittnumta, v. 2. — J. Strype, 'Memorials
of Vriinmc)\ hk. 'A.
A. D. 1557-1559.— Involved by the Spanish
husband of Queen Mary in war with France.
— Loss of Calais. See Fr.vn'ce: A. I). 1547-
ir,,-)!>.
A. D. 1558. — Accession of Queen Elizabeth.
A. D. 1558-1588.— The Age of Elizabeth :
Recovery of Protestantism.— " The education
of Elizabeth, as well as her interest, led her to
favour the reformation; and she remained not
long in stispense with regard to the party which
she should embrace. But though determined in
her own mind, she resolved to proceed by gradual
and secure steps, and not to imitate the example
of Mary, in encouraging the bigots of her party
to make immediately a violent invasion on the
established religion. She thought it re(nusit(>,
however, to discover such .symptoms of her in-
tentions as might give encouragi'inent to the
Protestants, so much depressed by ihe late \ iolent
perseciitions. She imme(li!it<'ly recalled all the
exiles, and gave liberty to the prisoners who were
conlined on account of reliuion. . . . Elizabeth
also i)roce<'ded to exert, in favour of the reform-
ers, some acts of ])o\ver, which were authorized
by the extent of royal jirerogative durini; thai,
age. Finding that the Protestant tea<h<'rs, irri-
tated by persecution, broke out in a furious at-
ta<!k on the ancient superstition, and that the
Romanists replied with no less zeal and acrimony,
she jtublished a ])roclamation, by which she in-
hibited all iireaclnng withovit a special licence;
and though she dispensed with these orders in
favoiH' of SOUK! ])reaehers of her own sect, she
took care that they shoidd be the most (•.•ilm and
moderate of the party. She also suspemled the
laws, .HO far as to order a great part of th.e serv-
ice, the litany, the Lord's prayer, the crei'd, and
the gospels, "to be read in Engli.sh. And, having
lirst published injunctions that all churches
shoidd conform themselves to the practice of her
own chaix'l, she; forbad the host to be any more
elevated in her presence: an imiovation wLich,
however frivolous it may appear, imjilied the
most material conse(iuences. These declaration.s
of her intentions, concurring wifh jireceding sus-
picions, made the bishops foresee, with certainty,
a revolution in religion. They therefore refused
to olliciate at her coronation; and it was with
some ditticultv that the Hisho]) of Carlish; was at
last prevailed on to jierform the ceremony. . . .
Elizabeth, though she threw out such hints as
encouraged the Protestants, delaj'cd the entire
change of religion till the meeting of the Parlia-
ment, which was sununoned to assemble. The
elections had gone entirely against the; Catholics,
who .seem not indeed to have made any great
struggle for the superiority; and the Houses
met, in a disposition of gratifying the (lueen in
every particular which she could desire of them.
. . . The first bill brought into Parliament, with
a view of trying their disposition on the head of
religion, was that for s\ipi)ressing tlu^ monasteries
lately erected, and for restoring the tenths and
first-fruits to the f|ueen. This point being gained
without much (lilliculty, a bill was next intro-
duced, annexing the supremacy to the crown;
and though the fiueen was there denominated
governess, not head, of the church, it conveyed
the same extensive power, which, under the
latter title, had been exercised by her father and
brother. . . . By this act, the crown, without th'!
concurrence either of the Parliament or even of
the convocation, was vested with the whole
spiritual power; might repress all heresies, might
establish or repeal all canons, might alter every
point of discipline, and nught ordain or abolish
any religious rite or ceremony. ... A law was
passed, confirming all the statutes enacted in
King E<lward's time with regard to religion; the
nomination of bishops was given to the crown
without any election of the chapters. ... A
solemn and public dis])utation was held during
this session, in presence of Lonl Keeper Bacon,
between the divines of the Protestant and those
of the Catholic commimicm. The champions ap-
pointed to defend the religion of the sovereign
were, as in all former instances, entirely tri-
umphant ; and the popish disputants, being pro-
835
ENdl.AND, 15ft8-lW8. <>"*"» RUtahrih ENGLAND. ir)r)8-1603.
noiinrnl rffmctnry nntl ob»tiiiiito, wrrovcn ptin-
Islidl l)y in>|)riw>nnunt. KnilMpldcncd liy this
victory, "tin- I'rnt(".t!Uit!< vciitiinil mi the lust and
most ini|i<irtiiiit Kirp, and hriMiu'lil into I'arli.i-
ninit ti hill for iilMilishiii!: tlic mass, and rc-cslali-
lisliini,' the litiiri:yof Kini: Kihv:ird. I'.iialtifs
were ciiaclid as \vi II au'ainst tlii»c \vln> dipartcd
fiDiii tills iiiihIi- iif \vnrslii|>, as a.iraiiist llmsc wild
iilisciitid tliciiisclvcs fntiii the <lnir<li and the
siicramcnts. And lliiis, in one session, witlumt
liny violcnrc. Iiiniult, <ir r laniour, was the whole
Hy.stcniof rrliu'loii alli red, on the very coniini'iicc-
uicnt of a ninii, and l)y the will of a yoiinir
woman, wlio^c title to the crown was hy many
tlioiijrlit lialile to ^Tcat otijcctiiiiis." — I), liiime,
///»/. of Kmil.inil, rh. IW. /-yi. iHo-HSO {i\ ;}).—
'• Kli/a'lMlli ascended the throne iniich more in
the character of a I'rotestunt champion than her
own convictions and inclinations would have dic-
tated. She was, indeed, the dawi;htcr of Ann
Holeyii, whom liy this time the Protestants were
iM'^riiiiiini: to retrard as a martyr of the faith; hut
hIic was also the child of Henry VIII., and the
heiress of his iiii]>erioii.s will. Soon, however,
she foiiiiil herself Protestant almost in her own
despite. The Papacy, in the lirst jiride of suc-
cessful reaction, olTeiVd her only the alternative
of Kuhmission or excoiimiunicatioii, and she did
not for a moment hesitate to choose the latter.
Then commenced that lonj; and close alliance lie-
tweeii Catholicism .aiid domestic treason which is
so dilTenntly judi;ed as it is approjichcd from
the rdicloiis 'I'r the political side. These semi-
nary '.riests, \\\\i, ill every various disiruise come
to f'.iijrland, movin^r . "<'retly about from nianor-
Imiisc to manor-house, ecu 1 ••atinir \\w. rites of the
(Miiircli, contirmiiiLr the wave.tu.ir, consoling the
<Iyini:, winiiinir ItacU the lajiscd to the fold, too
well ac(|uainted with Klizaheth'.s prisons, and
often linding their way to her sealV )lds, — what
are they liut the intrepid missionaries, the self-
devoted heroes, of a proscrilied faith '.' On the
other hand, the (^ueeii is excommunicate, a;; evil
woman, with whiun it is not necessary to kcip
faith, to depose w hom would be the triumph of
the Church, whose death, however compassed,
its occasion: how easy to weave plots under the
cloak of reliirious intercourse, and to make the
unity of the faith a consi)irac}' of rebellion! The
next heir to the throne, Mary of Scotland, was a
Catholic, an<I, as long as she lived, a perpetual
centre of domestic anil European intrigue: i)l()t
Bueceeded plot, in which the traitorous subtlety
was all Catholic — the keenness of discovery, the
watchfulness of defence, all I'rotestant. Then,
too, the shadow of Spanish supremacy began to
cast itsi'lf broadly over Europe: the iineciual
struggle with Holland was still jirolongcd: it
was known that Philip's dearest wish was to re-
cover to his empire and the Churcli the island
kingdom which had once unwillingly accepted
his rule. It was thus the instinct of self-defence
whii'h placed Elizabeth at the head of the Protest-
ant interest in Europe; she setit Philip Sidney
to die at Zutphen ; her sailor buccaneers, whether
there were peace at home or not, bit and tore at
everything Spanish upon the southern main; till
at last, l.jeM, Philip gathered up all his naval
strength and hurled the Armada at our shores.
' Attlavit Dens, et dissipati sunt.' The valour
of England did much; the storms of heaven the
rest. Alary of Scotland had gone to her death
the year before, and her sou had been trained to
hate his mother's faith. There could be no ques-
tion any more of the lixed Protestantism of the
EiiLrlish people." — C. IJcard, llibbert fActurm,
lMs,'t: 77if lltfoniiiiti»ii. Itrf.
A. D. I558-I598.--The Age of Elizabeth :
The Queen's chief councillors. — "Sir William
Cecil, afterwards Lord Hurleigh, already olllcially
e.\])ericn( ed during three reigns, though still
young, was the (|Ueen's chief advi.scr from lirst to
la.st —that is to .say, till he died in l.liW. Philip
II., who also dic("l in that year, was thus his
e.xact contemporary; for he mounted the .Span-
ish throne just when Elizabeth and her minister
began their work together. He was not long in
discovering that there was one man, possessed of
the most lial.uiced judgment ever brought t<>
the iiead of English alfairs, who was cai)able of
unwinding all his utost secret intrigues; and. in
fact, the two arch-enemies, the one in London
and the other in Madrid, were pitted against each
other for folly years. Elizalieth had also the
good sense to select the wisest and most learned
ecclesiastic of his day, .Matthew Parker, for her
Primate ard chief adviser in Church all'airs. It
should be noted that lioth of these siigcs, as well
asthe(|uecn herself, had been Conformists to the
Papal obetiiciice under .M.iry — a position far from
heroic, but not for a moment to be confused with
th;it of nicii whose philosophical indilTerence to
the (piestions which exercisecl all the highest
minds enabled them to join in the juTsecution of
Koinanists and Anglicans at ditrerent times with
a sublime imp;irtialitv. ... It was under the
advice of Cecil and I'arker that Elizabeth, on
coniing to the throne, matle her famous settle-
ment or Establishment f)f religion. " — M. Burrow.':.
ComnifiitdrhKon. the IIM. of England, W\ 2, eh. 17.
A. D. 1558-1603.— The Age of Elizabeth;
Parliament. — " The house of Comuions. upon a
review of Elizabeth's reign, was very far. on the
one hand, from exercising those constitutional
rights which have long since belonged to it, or
even those which by ancient precedent they might
have claimed as their own; yet, on the other
hand, was not (juite so servile ancl submissive an
assembly as an artful historian has represented
it. If many of its members were but creatures
of power, . . . there was still a considerable
party, sometimes carrying the house along with
them, who with patient resolution and intlexiblc
aim recurred in every session to the assertion of
that one great privilege which their sovereign
contested, the right of parliament to inquire into
and suggest a remedy for every public mischief
or danger. It may be remarked that the minis-
ters, such as Knollys, Ilatton, and Robert Cecil,
not otdy sat among the commons, but took a very
leading part in their discussions; a i)roof that the
inrtuence of argument could no more be dispensed
with than that of power. This, as I conceive,
will ne .er be the case in any kingdom where the
assembly of the estates is quite subservient to the
crown. Xor should we put out of consideration
the manner in which the commons were com-
posed. Si.xty-two members were added at dilfer-
ent times by Elizabeth to the representation ; as
well from ]daces w Inch had in earlier times dis-
continued their franchise, as from those to w hich
it was first granted ; a very large proportion of
them petty borouglis. evidently under the in-
fluence of the cro^vn or peerage. The ministry
took much pains with elections, of which many
proofs remain. The house accordingly was
836
ENQLANI), M.-W-lOOn.
3V Btiiahfthnn
Age in Literature.
ENGLAND, 1558-1603
filled witli |)luromen, civiliiins, and common liiw-
ycrs ^^nispinjj at preferment. The sliivish toiK!
of tlicHc persons, as we collect, from the mimites
of D'Kwes, is strikiiii,'ly contrasted by tiie miin-
lincss of iiuh'pendent f,'cnllemcii. And as the
house was by no means very fully attended, tlu!
divisions, a few of which are recorded, running
from liOO to '2')0 in the atri^rcf^ate, it may hi' per-
ceived tliul. the court, whosi; followers were at
hand, would maintain a fornudahh! inlluence.
Hut this intliMiice, however pernicious tu the in-
tegrity of parliament, is disliniruishahle from
that exertion of almost absolute prerogative
which Hume has assumed as the sole spriiiir of
Eli/abelh's government, and would never b(! em-
ployed till some delicieney of strength was c.\-
perienceil in theotlier. " — II. llallum, (,'f>i>ii(. Hint,
of h'lii/., eh. .'â– >.
A. D. 1558-1603.— The A^e of Elizabeth:
Literature. — "The age of IJi/alH'lh was dis-
tinguishe(l bi'yond, perhaps, any other in our
history by a mimber of great men, famous in
diirerent ways, and whose names have come down
to us with unblemished honcjurs: statesmen,
warriors, divines, scholars, noets, and philoso-
phers; Kaleigh, Drake, Coke. Hooker, and — high
and more sounding still, and still more frcciuent
in our mouths — Shakesjiear, Spenser, Sidney,
Bacon, .lonson. Beaumont, and Fletclier, men
whom fame lias eternised in her long and last-
ing scroll, and who, by their words and acts,
were benefactors of their country, and ornaments
of human nature. Theirattainmeiitsof dilferent
kinds t)ore the .same general stamp, and it was
sterling; what they did had the mark of their
age and country upon it. Perhaps the genius of
Great Britain (if I may so sjieak without olfence
or flattery) never shone out fuller or brighter, or
looked more like itself, than at thisperio<l. Our
writers and great men hail something in them
that savoured of the scnl from which they grew :
they were not French; they were not Dutch, or
German, or Greek, or Latin; they were truly
English. They did not look out of themselves
to see what they should be; they sought for
truth and nature, and found it in themselves.
There was no tinsel, and but little art; they were
not the spoilt children of affectation and rclhie-
mcnt, but a bold, vigorous, independent race of
thinkers, with prodigious strength and energy,
with none but natural grace, and heartfelt, un-
obtrusive delicacy. . . . For such an extraor-
dinary combination and development of fancy
and genius many causes may be assigned ; and
wo may seek for the chief of them in religion,
in politics, in the circumstances of the time, the
recent diffusion of letters, in local situation, and
in the character of the men who adorned that
period, and availed themselves so nobly of the
advantages placed within their rca(;h. .' . . The
first cause I shall mention, as contributing to
this general effect, was the Reformation, which
had just then taken place. This event gave a
mighty impulse and increased activity to thought
and inijuiiy, and agitated the inert mass of ac-
cumulatet' prejudices throughout Europe. . . .
The translation of the Bible was the chief engine
in the great work. It threw open, by a secret
spring, the rich treasures of religion and juoral-
ity, which had been there locked up as in a shrine.
It revealed the visions of the propliets. and con-
veyed the lessons of inspired teachers (such they
were thought) to the meanest of the people. It
gave them ft common interest in tho common
(•ause. Their hearts burnt within them as they
read. It gave a mind to the people, l>y udving
them common subjects of thought and feelitig.
. . . The imme(liat(Mise or application that was
made of religion to sid)je('ts of imaginntion and
fiction was not (from an obvious ground of sep-
aration) .so direct or frequent as that which was
made of the classical and romantic literature.
For much about the .same time, tlu; rich and fas-
cinating stores of the Greek and Hoiuan mythol-
ogy, and thost! of the romantic jtoetry of Spain
and Italy, were eagerly explored by the curious,
luid thrown open in translations to tlic admiring
ga/e of th(' ^•ulgar. . . . What also gave an un-
usual impetus to the mind of man at this period,
was the discovery of the New World, lad the
reading of voyages and travels. (Jreen islands
and golden sands seemed to arise, as by enehant-
ment, out of tlic! bosom of the watery waste, and
invite the cupidity, or wing the imagination of
the dreaming speculator. Fairyland was realised
in new anil unknown worlds Vsiain. the
heroic an<l martial spirit which breath<s in our
eltler writers, was yet in considi'rable activity in
the reign of Lli/.abeth. The .vj:^: of chivalry was
not then ([uite gone, nor tlu; glory of Kuropi' ex-
tinguished forever. . . . Lastly, to conclude this
accoiml: What gjive a unity aiid conunou direc-
tion to all these; causes, was tla; natural gcsiius
of the country, which was strong in thc.se writers
in proportion to their strength. We art; a nation
of islanders, and we cannot help it, nor mend
ourselves if we would. We are something in
ourselves, nothing when we try to apo others.
Music and painting are not our forte: for what
we have done in that way has been little, and
that borrowed from others with great dilliculty.
But we may boast of our poets and philosoithers.
That's something. We have had strong heads
and soimd hearts among tis. Thrown on one
side of the world, and left to bustle for ourselves,
we have fought out many a battle for truth and
freedom. That is our natural style ; and it were
to bo wished we had in no instance departed
from it. Our situation has given tis a certain
cast of thought and character; and our liberty
has enabled us to make the most of it. We are
of a stiff clay, not moulded into every fashion,
with stubborn joints not easily bent. We arc
slow to think, and therefore imi)ression3 do not
work upon us till they act in masses. . . . We
may be accused of gro.ssness, but not of flimsi-
ness; of extravagance, but not of affectation; of
want of art and relinement, but not of a want of
truth and nature. Our literature, in a word, is
Gothic and grotes(iue; unequal and irregular;
not cast in a i)revious mould, nor of one uniform
texture, but of great weight in the whole, ami of
incomparable value in tlie best parts. It aims
at an excess of beauty or power, hits or misses,
and is either very good indeed, or absolutely
good for nothing. This character applies in par-
ticular to our literature in the age of Elizabeth,
which is its best period, before the introduction
of a rage for French rules and French models." —
W. Ilazlitt, Lectures 011 the Liteiuitare of the Age
of Eliziiheth, kct. 1. — " Hiunanism, before it
moulded the mind of the Eng'ish, had already
permeated Italian and French liteniture. ("l.issi-
cal erudition had been adapted to the neeils of
modern thought. Antitjue authors had been col-
lected, printed, annotated, and translated. They
887
ENGLAND. LVTH-l «():».
Suvrrtniicu
anil Ini/ijimtly.
ENGLAND. tW9,
wore fftirly mimfcnd in tlic Hoiitli, nnrl oMlmllnU'd
l(. till- sivli- iif till' vfTimciiliir Uy iIkhc iih'iiiis
riimli rif' till' Iciiriiinj: |M(|iiiliiriMC(l liy <nir ikhMh,
«'Hsiiyi>ts, mill ilniiimliHls cniiic ti> us iil scciikI-
imnil mill lion iIh' sIiiiii|i of (■•iiitfiiiporary
KciiluK. In liUf iimiiiiiT. till- liiHt works of
Ituliiin, KniK'li, Spuiiisli. ami ({ininiii liliraliiii!
were Introiliiccil intoOnat Urilain loiiillirr with
till- ( lahsiiM. Tlic UK"' fiivuuiril Iniiislation, anil
KriKlish riiulirs bcfcirn tho closf of llic Mixtiiiilli
«;cnttirv. wtTc in iioHHcs.sion of a cnsniopoiitan
illirary in llii'ir nioihcr tniitrni'. inclinlinjr clioict!
Bi)c<inirns of anritiil ami nioili'm nmsti-rpiiTi's,
Tiii'sc (irciiniHtaniTS Hullicii-ntly niioiint for tin-
richness ami varirly of lllizaix'tlian lilrraMirc.
Tlii-y also lull) lo rxplain two points wlilcli must
Htriiio cvrry hliulcnlof tliat liliratiirc — itsn;itiv(,'
frisliiH-Hs, ami its inarkcii unity of styli'. I'.lizii-
iiclhan litcralurc was fri'sh ami native, hccauscit
was the uttrrancc of a youthful race, iiroiiscil
to vi^'orouH wlf-conHi'ioiiKncss umlir cnnilitlons
which (lid not depress or exhaust its cnerj^ies.
The Knfflish oiieneil frank eyes upon the ilis-
»'ovc>-y of llie worlil ami man, wliiiii hail lieen
elTectid liy the l{c!iai>sance. 'I'hey w« re imt.
wearicil witii collect ini;, collating.', correcliiif;,
transmitting,' to the jiress. All the lianl work of
assimilatini; the humanities hail hieii done for
Ihiin. 'I'hey had only to survey and to enjoy, to
feel and to CxiircHS, "to lay themselves open to
(lelijjhtful inlluences, to edn the iiohh" lessons of
the jiast, lo thrill lieneath the iH'auty am! the
awe of an a\itlientie revelation. Criticism had
not laid its cold, <lry linjrer on the hlossoms of
the fancy. The new learnini; was .still younj?
«'nou);li to he a tiling of woiichT and ontrancin!^
Joy." — .1. A. Symonds, A ('otiijuiriHim of Hlizn-
Ix'thiin irith Vktorinn I'mtry {Fortnif/fitlff Iter.,
r. 45, ;.. r,(i).
A. D. 1559.— The Act of Supremacy, the
Act of Uniformity, and the Court of High Com-
mission. — "When Kli/ahcth's lirst Parliament
mel in .January li'htU, I'onvocaliini, of course;,
met too. It at()nc(! claimed that theclcnry alone
had authorily in matters of faith, and proceeded
to pass resolutions in favour of Transuhstantia-
tion, the Mass, and the I'ap.'il Huiiremaey. The
bishops mill the rnivcrsitles sii^ned a formal
agreement to thisetTect. Tliat in theeonstitution
of the iMi^lish ("liureh, Convocation, us Convo-
c^ition, has no sucii power as this, was proved by
the steps now taken. The Crown, advised by
the Clouncil and Parliament, took tlie matter in
hand. As every element, except the Koman, had
been excluded from the clerical bodies, 11 consul-
tation was ordered between the representatives
of both sides, and all jin aehin,!^ was sus|)cnded
till a settlement had been arrived at between the
queen and the Three Estates of the realm. The
consultation broke up on the refusal of *' c Koman-
ist chamiiioTis to keep to the terms a^ d upon ;
but even before it look place Parliament restored
the Royal .Supremacy, repealed the laws of .Mary
alTectinjr reliirion, and tave the queen by her
own desire, nut the title of ' Supreme Head,' but
'Supreme Governor,' of the(;hureh of Enjilnnd."
— M. B\irrows, ('mnnii ntnririKmtfic Jlt'gt. ofEiiff.,
hk. a. ch. 17.— This first Padiameut of Elizabeth
passed two inemonible acts of great importanec
in English history,— the Act of Supremiicy and
the Act of Uniformity of Common I'raycr. "The
former is entitled 'An act for restoring to the
crown the antient juris<lictiou over tlio State
Krcli'HinHliral and H|iirifual; and for nboliHhing
foreign power.' It is the same ' ir HiihHtance
with the 'J.-ith of Henry VIII. . . . out the com-
mons incorporated several other bills into it; for
besides the title of 'Supreme Governor in all
caus<s Ecclesiastical and Tcinpoiil.' which iu
restored to the (^ueen, the act n vivi s those laws
of King Henry VIII. I King Edward VI.
which had been rei>ealeil in the late reign. It
forliids all a]>pcals to Home, nitd exonerates the
subjects from all exactions ami impositions here-
tofore paid to that court; and as it revives King
Ivlward's laws, it repials a Kovcre act made in the
late reig.i lor punishing her y. . . . ' Moreover,
all |>ersons in any jmlilic cinoloyH, whether civil
or eeelesiiLstical. are obliged to take an oath In
recognition of the (Queen's right to the crown,
and of her supremacy in all causes cccIesiaHtical
and civil, on penalty of forfeiting all their pro-
motions in the <'hurch, and of being dcclareil in-
capable of holding any |)ublic otllce.' . . . Fur-
ther, 'The act i'orbiis all writing, iirinting,
teaclilng. or pri .idling, and all other deeds or
acts whereb/ any foreign jurisdiction over these
realms is defended, upon pain that they and their
abettors, being thereof convicted, shall for the
llrstolTeiice forfeit their goods and chattels; . . .
spiritual persons Kli:tll lose their benefices, and
all ecclesiastical iirefcrments; for the second
offence they shall incur the penalties of a iiriemu-
nire; and the third oll'ence shall be deemed high
treason.' There is a remarkable clause; in tills
act, which gave! rise to a new court, ciilled 'The
( 'oiirt of I Hgh Commission. ' Tlie words are the.so,
' The Queen ami her successors shall have power,
by their letters jiiitent under the great seal, to
assign, name, and authori/e, as often as they
shall think meet, and fur as long a time as they
shall please, jiersons being natural-born subje(;ts,
to use, occupy, and exerci.se, under herand them,
all manner of jurisdiction, jirivilege's, and jire-
enunences, touching any 8i)iritual or ecelesias-
ti(;al jurisdiction within the realms of England
and Ireland, A:c., to visit, reform, redress, order,
correct and amend all errors, heresies, schisms,
abuses, contempts, olTences and enormities what-
soever. Provided, that they have no power to
deterndne anything to be heresy, but what has
been adjudged to be so by the authority of the
canonical .scripture, or by the iir.st four general
councils, or any of them; or by any other general
council wherein the same; was declared heresy by
the express and Jilaln words of canonical scrip-
ture; or such as shall hereafter be dcndared to be
heresy by the high court of parliament, with the
a.ssenl of the clergy iu convocation.' Upon the
authority of this clause the (^ueeii aiiiiointed a
certain nundier of 'Commissioners' for ecclesl-
asti(!al causes, whocxercised the same power that
had been lodged In the hands of one vicegerent
in the reign of King Henry VIII. And how
sadly they abused their power In this and the
two next reigns will appear In the seejuel of this
history. They did not trouble themselves much
with the express words of scripture, or the four
first general councils, but entangled their prison-
ers with oaths ex-ofllclo, and the inc.vtrieablo
mazes of the popish canon law. . . . The papists
being .'anquished, the next point w.as to unite
the reformed among themselves. . . .Though all
the reformers were of one faith, yet they were far
from agreeing about discipluu; and ceremonies,
each party being for settling the church accord-
838
KNOLANI), ir,r,9.
I'liritiiuimH.
ENCILANI), mOO-t.VJfl.
Inp to their own imxlcl. . . . Tin- Queen . . .
Ilierr'fore ujipoiiited ii (oinniittee of divines Id
review KiriL; Kilwunl's lilur;j:y, inul (n see if in
iiny iJiirticiiJMr it wiih fit, to i)e cliaiiifed ; tliiir
niinicH were Dr. i'liriicr, (Jrindal, Cox, l'ill\inKlon,
Mny. Kill. Wliileluud, and Sir 'riioniiis Sndtli,
doctor id' tlie ciNil liiw. Tlieirin 'ruetionw were,
to Htrilie out all olTensive piissapH ajiaiiiHt tlie
pope, and to mulu' jieople easy about llie lieli.f
of (111! corporal presence of ("lirisi in the sacra-
ments; l)iil not a word in fav<iur of llu> stricter
proteslants. Her Majesty was afraid of rcforni-
iun too far; she was (lesirous to retain iinajres in
eliurclies, crucilixesand crosses, vocal and instru-
mental music, witli all the old jiopisli ^'arments;
it is not therefore to Ik; wondered, that in review-
inj; the liturfiy of Kinjj ivhvard, no alterations
were made in favour of tliose who now l)ej;an to
he called Puritans, from thiirattemptinij a purer
form of worship and (liscij)liii(^ than liailyi't been
«'stal)lishe(l. . . . The Ixiok was i)reHent('d to the
two houses and jwssed into a law. . . . Tlie title
of the act is ' Ai\ act for the rniformily of Com
mon I'raye; and Service in the ("hur<''i, and ad-
ministration of tlie Sarrametits.' It was hroutcht
into the House of (.'ommoiis Ajtril IHth, and was
read a third timo Ajiril 2()th. It pas <'d tlie
House of Lords Ajiril 2Hth, and took place from
tho2Uh of .Imie lO.IO."— I). Ncnl, Jlixt. of the
PuntaiiH, V. 1, ch. 4.
Also IN; (}. IJurnel, Hint, of the Ileforiiintiini
of the Ch. rf J'Jiif/., V. 2, /d: ',].—('. Ileylyn, Eeclenin
lieMnniutta : KUzixhdh, AnnoX.
A. D. 1559-1566. — Puritanism takinc: form.
— "The Cliureh of Eiifrland was a latitudinarian
experiment, a contrivance; to enable men of op-
posinff creeds to live to/^etlier witliout Hhedilinij
cadi others' bloorl. It was not intended, jiiul it
was not possible, that ('atholics or Protestants
should find in its fornuilasall tliat theyrecpiired.
The services were deliberately made elastic;
compr('h(!n<lin,!j; in the form of jiositive statement
only what all Christians agreed in l)elievinp,
â– whil 
